Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 9

Europe, the Final Front and Rear.. 

These are the never-ending voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Nope...

Chapter 9: Loches Pt 1.

After yesterday's slightly depressing blog (you know, covid 'n stuff) several of you have put in official complaints, so I need to make this chapter more upbeat. Hmmm... Nothing about viruses, nothing about imbecilic government leaders, nothing about impoverishing an entire nation. Um... 

Well, I could talk about the amazing things we saw on our trip north through France. How would that do? The whole trip was wrapped in stress, so stopping off in various 'places of interest' was actually a good way of us ignoring the realities of life, and going to the Loire Valley was one good example. With more to come.

Visiting the Loire Valley has always been high up on my Bucket List. Yes, it's true, I have a list of buckets. I wanted to see if this region lived up to all its hype, and look towards planning a future gnome-trek here to visit more sites in more detail. 

We had only just arrived in the area when we came across Loches. I had never heard of it before, but then my knowledge of France is not exactly world-renowned, and, let's be fair, they have probably never heard of me either.

It turned out to be a beautiful fortified citadel town, unfortunately hidden by the encroaching gloom. A gloom driven by gathering clouds, the coming night and by the news. (Uh-oh, stay with the story Phil...)

We stopped near the centre of town, next to its huge outer ramparts. Although, disappointingly few parts of rams could actually be seen. 

It was, by that time, too late to visit the town's central chateau, and its giant walls prevented us from getting much of a view. This photo is all we could see of St Ours church, an impressive romanesque building unfortunately mostly covered with impressive non-romanesque tarpaulin. 

We decided to rest the gnome for the night so went in search of a gnome-home.

We settled for staying overnight in a small parking area put aside for camper-vans. These no-fee areas are to be found all over France, although some are better placed than others, as we shall find out in future much-anticipated chapters. This turned out to be a peaceful site next to a canal. For us it was simply somewhere to eat, drink and sleep, ready for another hectic day. 

These sites usually have few if any facilities. Which brings us to one gnome-deficient problem. It's small exterior size has many advantages, plus its four wheel drive powerful motor can get us pretty much anywhere. Being magically bigger on its inside than on its outside makes for an incredible machine, but its inner hugeness is not enough to allow separate toilet facilities. When researching this vehicle it was remarkably difficult to find any reference to how you take a leak in the middle of the night. And you will probably be relieved (pun intended) to hear that I'll not go into details here either...

Meanwhile...

The Elf still had no results to her covid test, despite all the moon-shot promises made by King Boris. Hopefully 'no news is good news', although 'no virus' would have been better news. Due to these worries and more, it took me at least ten minutes to get to sleep...

Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 8

Europe, the Penultimate Frontier. 

These are the continuing voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Er... it's not actually a real gnome...

Chapter 8: Winter is Here

And so, as I write this, we enter the second week of the second lockdown in France due to this pandemic. On the surface, nothing much appears to have changed. We already had a curfew in place, this was just a further tightening of our freedoms. 

This time all appears calmer. The same sense of fear is not there. The roads are less busy than normal, but not empty as in the first lockdown. The supermarkets are quieter, most people seem to use the now more efficient online ordering systems. 

However, we no longer can we see our family nor our friends at all, whether local or otherwise. Even seeing our nearby offspring edges up higher on the difficulty ladder. 

There are no riots and no obvious police presence. There is a strange atmosphere of general acceptance of a life forced into a new normal. 

Below the surface, however, is a different and much more perturbing story. This apparently graceful swan is paddling like shit.

Our local hospital is full. And when I say that it is full, I mean it is FULL. Full of covid sufferers. The staff are falling sick, some with stress and some with covid itself. The curve is forever upwards and it will inevitably get far worse. Many other hospitals in France are also full, so what happens to new cases whether covid or otherwise is anyone's guess.

And most worrying of all, most of these patients are in their 40's or 50's. Read that again. 

This infection is only just reaching us older farts. At least two local retirement homes now have cases. This is not good. This was predicted but most of us appear to have stuck our heads in the sand. If us old farts get ill then hospital may no longer be a choice. Now that really is scary.

This wave is set to be far worse than the first wave. This time it is more like a wave goodbye.

Winter may technically be two months away, but I'm sorry, winter is already knocking on the door.

For the two of us wild adventurers, back on our north-bound adventure, (I bet you'd forgotten about that already) this was just an oncoming prospect, a distant worry, oft decried by those on social networks who prefer to spout their hopes in lieu of facts. 

We knew this was coming, we just did not realise how soon it was to arrive.

What should we do in our comfortable state of ignorance? Do we give up and return home? How do we balance the risks when the risks are invisible? 

As one of our most important goals was to fetch our eldest, and as there would be absolutely no other chance to see our kids in the next several months, we kept on with our original plan. Or was it our second plan? Third maybe?

After five hours of driving, plus an hour of dormant siesta, and a further hour of coffee consumption, we arrived in the Loire Valley, blissfully ignorant of what the future would bring...

The future was to bring chapter 9. Hopefully it will be more lighthearted than this depressing crap. And I haven't even started on the American elections yet. Or Brexit.

Hand me that bottle of wine...

Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 7

Europe, the Final Frontier. 

These are the voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. A camping-car on caffeine....

Chapter 7: Winter is Still Coming.

The future was certainly looking more and more apocryphal. We were heading into winter both literally and metaphorically. The signs were all around us. 

Somehow, roads littered with dead leaves are so much more alluring that roads littered with dead people.

Despite all this depth of despondency, we had a crossing booked on the Eurostar, and we were going to use it, even if it meant turning straight back to escape the oncoming lockdown, confinement and doom combined. 

With Wales locking down, would we still be able to see our loved ones? If the Elf has not received her results would we be able to see the Bristol contingent? If England was to shutdown could we escape its evil clutches? If artichoke wine is a thing would my stomach seek psychiatric help?

Some of these questions may or may not be answered in future chapters of - Gnome-Trek....

Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 6

Europe, the Final Frontier. 

These are the voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. A miniature home on wheels...

Chapter 6: Winter is Coming.

After experiencing my usual haute petite cuisine in the belly of the Gnome, it was time to leave the Lot.

We were to head north towards the Loire Valley, an area renowned for its castles, its wine and its artichokes. I was hoping that artichoke wine wasn't a thing...

The news that Wales was soon to lock down, independently of England, was potentially a severe blow to us. Two of my three UK-resident offspring (plus one smaller sized sprogg) lived in Wales, and we were desperate to see them. It's all in the genes you know.

This shutdown came as no surprise, it was a matter of when, not if. The fact that it was to start on the day of our arrival probably did not come into their deliberations. It was also as clear as day that England would have to go the same way. Their King of the Dis-United Kingdom, Emperor Boris, son of Stanley, son of John, had to decide how many old people could be thrown under the bus before the inevitable U-turn. Sadly it would prove to be quite a few thousand but, as is often pointed out, we are all going to die someday anyway. Yeah, thanks for that.

Not that the UK was on its own in this mess. We also knew that France was heading the same way, we only awaited President Manual Mach-One to make the same decision, after spending some time with pointless curfews and such. These milder sanctions simply do not work against this highly contagious agent. There are several theories as to why this should be, but we were soon to find out ourselves, upon our return from the UK. We would see first hand how the best laid plans can fail utterly. 

A bit like ours really...

Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 5

Europe, the Schengen Frontier. 

These are the continuing voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. It's a van with a coffee machine...

Chapter 5: Lacave Part 2.

My mission: More Espresso...

A thousand years ago, someone obviously thought that building this monument to their narcissism would be a good idea. "Look at me, I've got lots of money and you haven't". However, to control the peasants (who were, after all, the poor bastards who built the bloody thing) they needed more than huge impenetrable stone walls, they also needed to control their souls. To this end, a church was built even higher than the castle itself, thus proving its worth to the subjugated masses below.

It was later rebuilt in the fourteenth century to prove, yet again, that it was much better having money than just living off the soil. 

They had a point...

All this effort was expended to control the masses, and yet, if they had waited for only about four hundred years, for the Knights of St John, then the coffee that they brought with them from the Great Siege of Malta (another little known fact) would have worked just as well.

Coffee. Better than building churches. A catchy slogan I think.

___

Back in the Gnome, my morning coffee was beginning to have its profound effect, slowing my spouting of philosophy...

This stop-over was but a quick break.  To get to our next stop involved a long drive and we needed to set off early. We were to head for the Loire Valley, to see how castles really should be built, to see how the masses really should be repressed. (Aarghhh! Give him another coffee!)

Meanwhile, back in abnormal land, the Elf had been tested for the dreaded plague on mankind. And Elfkind. We awaited the result. If negative then our cunning plan could continue. If positive our cunning plan was wrecked. If no result came, then our plan was but a dog's breakfast. 

If this was not enough to knock us off course, news then arrived of another nail in the coffin of our not-so cunning plan. Wales was to lockdown completely in three days time. The very day that we were due to arrive in the UK. Failing a direct asteroid hit, what else could possibly go wrong?

Quite a lot actually...

Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 4

Europe, the Final Frontier. 

These are the voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Alternatively, it's a bloody camper van...

Chapter 4: Lacave Part 1

My mission: Espresso...

We had arrived at our first overnight stop. Our first opportunity to try out our newly upgraded starship campervan. Yes; we had heating that actually warmed the van without bursting our eardrums during the small hours of the night. Yes; we had solar panels that could recharge our on-board quantum energy system (batteries). Yes; I had parked under a sodding tree so that the solar panels were pretty much useless. 

But the most important thing, above all others, was the new espresso machine. This was run from a newly installed converter. It's very clever. It converts electricity to ... electricity.

Espresso. Coffee for those non-europeans amongst you (and that, of course, now includes us Brits). It is the liquor of life. It is the energy that maintains our soul. It stimulates and arouses. Thankfully, it tastes pretty damn good too.

Talking of souls, we had parked under the watchful gaze of the Chateau de Belcastel, (not, it should be noticed, that of the same name near Rodez). 

This is an absolutely classic example of how the local populace was (and still is) controlled by the rich and the powerful. This stunning castle (now a private residence) was built suspended 55 metres above the river below, making fishing somewhat awkward and diving a one-off event. 

First, build your castle on a nearly unassailable mountain top. Then, higher still, build the real suppressor of the masses, a church. 

There must be a better way... 

Let me think...

Gnome-Trek: Episode 7. Into the Plague: Chapter 3

Europe, the Final Frontier. 

These are the voyages of the Flying-Brick ‘Gnome’. Its continuing blah blah blah. You get the message...

Chapter 3: The first leg. 

Our mission: To head into winter...

The day had finally arrived. We were to leave our home in the care of our brave family, to head north towards .... er ... the north.

Annick's family had arrived, against all the odds, to care for our menagerie. Instructions had been left (don't forget to feed the dog, cat, fish, ducks, peacocks, cranes, poultry and, oh yes, maman). The Gnome was packed to its eyeballs with food, drink, clothing and... more drink.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, here's a thing. Quite a lot actually.

Our plan was to travel north in several stages. You know. Take it easy. Relax. We would take a few days to get to the tunnel, then stay at my long unseen youngest son's home. Fine. No problem. Except, well, we'd be stuck in quarantine for fourteen days, forced to stay there. We were not even allowed to take our dog for a walk! This was lucky considering we didn't have her with us.

We didn't have far to go that day as we left in the afternoon from home. However, we had a bad feeling...

The world is changed

I feel it in the water.

I feel it in the earth.

Much that once was is lost.

For the time will soon come when Covid will shape the fortunes of all.

A distant rumour, a sense of concern, a problem.

 My young sons better half (hereon-in called the Elf) was not well. Feverishness. Stiffness.

Gulp. 

Our plan was starting to unravel... 

We arrived near Rocamadour in a small village called Lacave...

Here, under the eye of a distant hill-top edifice of sorcery and indoctrination (a church) we awaited news of what is and what should never be...

Coming next: The next bit...