..and so it was that we spent much of the hottest and most humid day of the season at that point (20th July) on cleaning and packing! This trip was a masterpiece of logistics and economy necessitated by Chloe's graduation, Yvette's MOT, property visit, family meals to celebrate the big birthdays, then extended to include the Cropredy festival, visiting Le Queroy and with the added benefit of getting us away from Paleo over the Assumption holiday when it can be rather unpleasant! So a full month on the road (or sea or in the air)!First we managed to slip down for a quick "Welcome Back" drink with newly-returned Duke, then onto the 3.30 bus to Chania. It had to be so early in order to get the 2100 ferry, which we might have missed from the last bus. Then we paused at the bus station and then went by bus to the port. We were expecting to see the Elyros docked and to be allowed onboard by 7 for the 9pm departure. No ship! Since we booked they have started day sailings so ours was not to leave until 10pm, and we would have to wait for it to arrive and for disembarkation before we could settle into our comfy cabin. Grrr! Still, it was a good crossing and the delay resulted in a slightly more civilised arrival time of 6am in Piraeus! The port had an eerie feel with the taxis on strike, but we watched life and used the free WiFi before going to get the airport bus (from the shelter that doubles as a public urinal and featured in Athens News the previous week as a pickpocketing hub!). With no taxis there was huge pressure on the buses, and it was not a relaxing ride. We were anticipating a long wait at the airport, but we were then told of a delay of at least an hour in take-off, which turned into two hours of extra tedium. The planned schedule for onwards was now in tatters as we would not make the last bus from Barcelona to Girona airport. Nor had we any documentation about the rail alternative! There was further frustration at the Barcelona airport train station when the only member of staff was out of her booth and wouldn't help with the Girona bit telling us to change at Sants. Then followed the closest shave for a very long time!
It is four or five stops from the airport to Sants and the carriage was fairly empty. We stowed our main wheelie bags close to us on the floor and then put down the rucksack with the laptop (and other valuables). A group of three men and a woman got on, stood strangely close to us, and then started asking questions about the stops. When we pulled into a station one engaged Ruth in a contorted conversation and Bob saw that the two men were running off the train with the rucksack. He shouted as he ran after them and the other man ran too. As they neared the end of the platform they dropped the bag and Bob retrieved it. Phew!!!
We were in mild shock for the rest of the evening, which entailed getting to Sants and trying to find a train, getting one that was only slow (as opposed to a previous very, very slow one) seeing a good proportion of Catalonia, and realising we were going to be late into Girona whence we had no information about onwards buses other than a vague memory that 10pm was the last one. We pulled into Girona at 9.57 and followed some others in a mad dash across to the bus station. Bob flung his bag over a barrier and jumped. Ruth ran sedately on the long route and we made it. (Although in fact there are buses at 11pm and midnight!) By asking the driver to drop us at a spceial stop we manged to run into our hotel at 10.25, with the self-service restaurant due to close at 10.30. Another Phew :- we shared a menu del dia and turned in heaving large sighs of relief, and wondering if we might have been a shade too mean in our planning!
Next day the blessed Punt Central lady collected us, and the boss went to get Yvette and shook our hands with vigour. We set off on our own Tour de France (just under 1000 miles). Leg1: Diesel (just cheaper in Spain), liqueur for Josiane, over the Pyrenees, skirt Toulouse and up to Brive. Brive has a strong industrial history, has lovely countryside and towns nearby and is on the rail network. That makes it similar to Swindon, and it has about as much charm! (We saw a British car pass us 5 times trying to get out or get a bed on a busy weekend - they looked increasingly cross). We had booked so were OK at a B&B chain hotel and with a RestauMarche meal.
Leg 2. This was a Rouge Saturday! Bison Fute classifies the traffic conditions for France. "Black" would be the next weekend but this day got the red, meaning some headaches. We were fortunately going largely against the holiday flow, but still had to do the dreaded Limoges-Poitiers National (not Autoroute) bit. We saw some ghastly queues and had our own moments (20 minute waits) at toll booths and junctions, but made it to Alencon, and once again no walkable choice for eating :- it had to be the infamous Buffalo Grill, where we dined on Charolais steaks.
Leg 3 A silly day! We do - of course - know about (and have some support for) Sundays in France. We needed cheap fuel and the wine supplies for three weeks in UK. We thought there would be something open for the mornong in Alencon. We failed to find it. We diverted from the autoroute just before likely closing time and failed to find it. Then we thought that Cité Europe might be open for tourists, but it wasn't, and when we got to Dunkerque we couldn't even find an open bar for a much-needed beer!Grrr! Still we had a comfortable room and then the famous Campanile dinner, before an early night, and the 10am ferry loaded with absolutely no French wine - a historic moment!!!
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