Now we have experienced it all! I forgot to mention yesterday that Fréjus is surrounded by numerous army camps. At precisely 5 am. we were awakened by a terrific barrage of rifle shots followed by bursts of machine gun fire. Recruits under training! We were used to being awakened by trains or lorries, but certainly not by a small war! As I write I can hear a bugle blowing in the distance.
For once, it is a beautiful day, chilly but cloudless. Behind us are the Esterel mountains over which we drove yesterday. They should be the last we shall see for a while. It is a relief to me for although they are all very pretty, they are a curse to a car of this size. I have seen enough of them to last me for some time.
9.45 am. Bowling along on a good, fast modern road we were able to keep to a constant 50 mph. without much trouble. Allan is driving while I write – as usual.
The surrounding countryside holds nothing of interest. But if my memory serves me right we shall be passing through the gorges of the Tarn country before reaching Lyon. I am looking forward to seeing the famous bridge of Avignon, some hundred miles further on. It is a lovely day.
I have just noticed a sign painted on a roadside electrical station. “Poujade” it states. Pierre Poujade, onetime candidate for president, tax abolitionist, now just another small piece of history in French politics.
It is good to be back again on the straight French roads, but they are useless for writing. My script looks like that of a hundred year old man. Not so pleasant to meet again are the lorry drivers who drive much too fast considering their heavy loads – and my peace of mind! Another thing which is now preventing peace of mind is yet again a split tyre. It will be touch and go whether or not it holds. Fingers are tightly crossed.
We’re back in the land of bread gourmets too. Housewives can be seen walking the street with two or three great loaves clutched in their arms. I say arms because the loaves are about two feet long.
We have just encountered a strange phenomenon. We have just left the clear sunlight, and entered a zone of mist which we could see long before we got to it. On either side of the road, rise crags to a height of possibly two hundred, feet. The road itself seems to be following the path of an ancient river bed. There seems no end to the mist. Twenty miles to Avignon, then suddenly we are in sunlight again. Just as suddenly we are back into the mist.
We have just passed a big lorry that has skidded off the road and would likely have turned over had it not hit one of the many trees lining the roadside.
1 pm. Avignon. We didn’t even see the bridge – must have by passed the town. On to Lyon.
The road is a brand new stretch of highway. Our average speed is high – 44 mph. so we should knock up three hundred miles today without much effort. One thing I will say about – the French and the Italians is that they never seem to be content with their roads. They are always working on them.
This is a very old and historic part of France – actually the old province of Languedoc. Old walls and castles abound. I imagine that this region must have produced a lot of the “flower of French chivalry” which fought England and King Harry at Agincourt.
The good weather is leaving us now. The sky is clouding over and there is a noticeable drop in temperature. Almost two o’clock and time for my four hour spell of driving. Later. Did I say four hours? It turned out to be more like six! We got to Lyon just before five, and decided to push on to Roanne, fifty-five miles away. We were now driving over the mountains known as the Massif Central. The idea in continuing on was simply to give us a good start in the morning. If I had known what was in store for us I don’t think I would have been so keen on the idea. Fog – in huge amounts!
Although the mountain roads are not as dangerous as some, of the roads we have encountered, they are bad enough. But in the dark and with the additional hazard of fog!! It was just as well we couldn’t see the drops at the left side of the road; thank God we were driving on the right with only the mountainside to crash into! I think I must have driven about thirty miles until finally we emerged from the fog shortly before Roanne.
An official camp-site was marked on the map. It was closed!
A decision was made to drive out of town and look for a site off the main road. No such luck! Mile after mile went by – still nothing. Again we ran into the fog on another hilly stretch. This fog had really started way back before Lyon when we followed the River Rhône for miles, getting our first taste of the notorious Mistral, the bone chilling wind which sweeps up the Rhône valley.
This second bout with the fog was just too much. We came to the conclusion that it was useless searching for a site in those conditions, so we drove on to the next small town by the name of La Palisse, which was also the next official camp-site. Was I relieved when we finally got there. Night driving is not to my taste at the best of times but in this lot!
We are camped in the municipal sports ground. Outside the heavy fog is still clamped down. I was extremely tired. But now, after a good meal I feel – well, just tired! Still, there are less than four hundred miles to Cherbourg. Nothing should prevent us from getting there under the time limit but, never count your chickens…!
Today’s run was the second longest we have ever done, three hundred and sixty-nine miles – quite a distance by anyone’s standards. It is very cold now and damp. Every effort has been made to ensure a warm night’s sleep. To look at us, anyone would thing we are preparing to venture out into the Arctic wastes – not going to bed! Goodnight.
Speedo reading: 18043. 369 mls. (4499)