Space: It goes on and on.
and on and on...
These are the continuing voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Its continuing mission: erm, who knows...
Chapter 14: Honfleur Part 1
We had to leave Loches in a hurry. Not because the monsters wanted to keep us in the Keep, not because Joan d'Arc wanted to make me king, not because Agnes beckoned with breast exposed (you really do have to keep up with my blog), but because we had a train to catch.
Hmmm. Not quite as exciting...
We looked to find somewhere not too far from Calais but away from the madding crowd. Ok, there are almost no madding crowds now (because of the virus that shall not be named) unless you want to kill yourself and your antecedents at a Trump rally. In Europe our version is anti-mask rallies. Fine. At least they will be less likely to reproduce.
Evolution in action.
And thus, after all this cogitation, we arrived in Honfleur. We were too late to do the tourist stuff, so we opted to stop in a carpark with a corner put over to cheapskates like us.
First: Convert van into comfortable lounge/kitchen.
Second: Cook.
Third: Eat, drink, and approach merriment.
Fourth: Convert to sleeping accommodation.
Fifth: Sleep, perchance to dream.
...
Sixth: Have a pee...
We awoke the next morning, as one does after you've spent the night sleeping, then went through the normal routine:
First: Wake up
Second: Irritate your partner by waking her up.
Third: Transmogrify the Gnome.
Fourth: Coffee
Fifth: Gourge on a yoghurt.
Sixth: Coffee.
Seventh: Take all appropriate medication.
Eighth: Clean all appropriate bits.
Ninth: Do tourist stuff.
So there we were, in Honfleur. A beautiful place despite the fact that I'm not a great fan of the sea, although I suspect that the sea doesn't really care about my opinion either. I kinda get that.
The sea itself is utterly boring, I mean, it's wet and it's flat (barring life-ending weather patterns), but it does bring out the details of the coastline quite nicely.
The major problem is people. There is always too many of them.
Oooh... Hang on...
Clearly the pandemic has its up-side. Now was the time to go wandering around the tourist spots of France.
The shitty weather probably didn't help either.
The centre piece of this beautiful town is the Port. Despite it being full of water, I have to accept that it looked pretty damned good.
This port guards the estuary of the Seine. It was from here that Samuel de Champlain founded Quebec. He must have been well lost at the time.
Many of these buildings are covered all over with slates, not just the roofs, as if an overzealous shingler had been let loose from the local psychotic roofer asylum.
And bright colours everywhere, except maybe the sky, which was a kind of dull grey.
For some strange reason, the further north we came, the less the weather met with our approval. Call us fussy but has anyone else noticed this?
Despite our need for haste, we allotted ourselves a little time to look around the port and discover its history, almost none of which will be detailed in the next exciting episode of... er ... whatever...
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