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Soissons, Vic sur Aisne to Jaulzy – Saturday 22nd and Sunday 23rd September


Ow. Again. A slow start to the day, but then freezing cold inhospitable swimming pool sorts us all out. Jon nearly breaks his coccyx on the slide, but all is well with the world. We arrange to convene after lunch and go and have a wander round Soissons. There is some talk about going Karting, but on arrival we find that the track is being dominated by a mini Schumacher, whose got a massive zoom on and refuses to stop (mind the last bend!), so we abandon that plan.

Soissons is small and pretty, we can’t go into the Cathedral as there’s a wedding on the go. Amelia sees the bride in all her finery and asks if this is a princess castle? Sweet. It did all look very fairy tale.

Spot the teeny bride

We have a brief mooch around (most of the town is closed due to a fire) and nip to a bar for the most expensive pint of Heineken ever. 4 drinks were nearly €20. The Bar was absolutely packed. Recession anyone?

Sunday sees us leave the campsite and travel the grand distance of 5kms to Jaulzy. Jon knows the area from a previous fishing trip. The week of fishing, (which has gone down in local legend with the lake owner and local bar) was 2 years ago and unbelievably is situated in the next village down the road from the campsite. Fate is definitely on side in this instance. The lake owner (Matt) has kindly agreed to spend some time with us to educate us in the intricacies that make up French bureaucracy and the pitfalls of buying a business in France. We spend a very pleasant hour with him and come away armed with much useful information. We adjourn to the local bar, La Rose de Sables (with which Jon is astonishingly familiar) for some thinking time. The local brew Bavik is somewhat savage and should only be consumed in small and manageable amounts. This was not factored into the equation on Jon’s previous fishing trip here and the results where somewhat catastrophic. Let’s just say that four collapses into the lake, a broken leg, broken ribs and one wheel chair accounted for a somewhat legendary status amongst the locals. Jon pleads innocence which is borne out by the welcome we receive upon entering the bar.

Momma, la patron, greets Jon like a long lost son. Food and beer are produced, plus the kind offer of parking in the car park at the back of the Bar. French hospitality knows no bounds it would appear. Thankfully all limbs remained unbroken and we steered clear of the lake.

Moma and her Grand Garcon...


After much attempting to chat with Momma at 100mph French we retire to Onzo, all happy and looked after. Tomorrow sees us heading further north towards the Normandy coast. A week of hard work lies ahead as we embark on the the next phase of this journey.