We
awake to grey skies under the watchful and slightly sinister gaze of the
Chateau, which towers above us. This is a lovely spot for an aire (take note
Italian Tourist People), even with the questionable weather.
We
head into town to do some admin tasks and take advantage of free wi-fi. We
trudge up the endless steep steps that run alongside the Chateau, well-worn
steps seem like they almost reach for the sky. It makes you wonder about the
history those steps have witnessed over the years. Once you get to the top the
view is incredible. Well worth the near heart attack.
Town
tasks complete and fuelled by an overdose of nuclear French coffee we set sail
for Chartres. Our first task after navigating the centre ville was to fill with
fuel. This is normally an easy task in France as in built up areas gas stations
are two a penny. Not so today. With the rain hammering down we search in vain
for somewhere to fill up, whilst running on veritable fumes. After a few laps
of the town we find an Intermarche, relief. Actually no. There is a height
limit of 3.2 metres and Onzo is 3.2 and besides, the pump is out of order.
Eventually we find a pump with no height limit where the Lorries can fill; this
will do the job nicely. Sadly the gods of petrol distribution step in again.
This particular pump is one those self-service ones which are common in France,
so your card has to be authorised by the machine beforehand. We insert card
after card, Visa, MasterCard, Debit, Credit. We even try the House of Fraser
store card and the AA breakdown card. None of them were to be accepted.
Computer says no – period. What card do you need FFS! For everything else in
life there’s MasterCard my arse.
We
eventually manage to eek €25 out of a Total garage at vastly over inflated cost
per litre, but still, Total Hero, saviour of the moment. Finally we can set off
towards Chartres. Bearing in mind that it’s only up the road, the fact that
we’ve covered about 20 miles in an hour so far and are only about a mile
further away from the Chateau is not ideal. Heading towards Chartres isn’t that
fun either, the weather is windy and torrential, but eventually we hit the
outskirts. A quick getting lost in the city centre results in a phone call to
the campsite to get some directions, remarkably this works a treat and we find
the place without incident, but we do decide to go and get some provisions on
board before we stop as there doesn’t look like there’s a shop nearby. An hour
of fruitless searching later having followed the signs towards an Intermarche
that simply doesn’t exist (hating Intermarche today), we give up and retreat to
the campsite. The barrier is closed and there’s no one there to let us in. This
despite the fact that we called and asked them if we could arrive at any time
and they said yes. We decide to park up and wait after some dude under an
umbrella informs us reception will re-open at 3pm. This also turns out to be
fiction as they in fact open at 2pm. It’s like being in a slightly different
dimension to everyone else today. Nothing is quite working as it should.
Eventually we check in.
Then
French bloke behind the counter reminds us (physically) of Toady, from Wind In
the Willows, but without the impish sense of humour. A squat, pompous,
dismissive, sour git frankly. As a rule we have found the French to be helpful,
polite and utterly charming. This guy was none of those and for whatever reason
must have taken an instant dislike to us. When we had paid, which involved zero
eye contact, instead dismissive grunts, we waited outside the barrier to let
through. It’s still throwing it down at this point and Onzo is sat in a giant
puddle in front of the still-oh-so-static barrier. With a sigh Noush jumps out
of the van (into the puddle) and trots over to squat piggy eyed French man. As
soon as she steps into the office the barrier opens, manned by French dude his
piggy eyes glinting with sly malice. With a glare that could have levelled
cities and should have left him flensed and shredded, Noush turns on her heel
and stalks back to the Van. The air turns from a steady rainy grey to a rather
alarming shade of blue. There then proceeds the fight to find somewhere we can
park, being as this is a campsite you wouldn’t think it would be too difficult,
however the ground is totally waterlogged. Getting onto a pitch would be an
achievement in itself, getting off unlikely if not impossible. We opt for a
stretch of gravel, accessible after a fight with some overhanging branches,
which we win. Finally ensconced and utterly exhausted by the fight that France
has given us today we go to bed. It’s 3pm. Two hours later and much restored we
awake to find that the weather has lifted somewhat, we decide to make an
attempt at Chartres.
Thankfully
this turns out to be a good decision and the rewards of Chartres go a long way
to soothing the hurts of the day. The city is riddled with churches and ancient
buildings. There are beautiful spires peeking over roof tops every way you turn.
The streets are thronged with people and the shops are of the “50% off and you
still can’t afford it” breed. Recession?? Ahem. Oddly there are a
disproportionate number of opticians, perhaps one every four shops. Is this
because people get myopia from all the double takes at the wildly high prices? We
spot the most traditional butcher either of us have ever seen, a butchers block
the size off the whole shop and a white haired old man, in his white apron,
cleaver in hand. It’s like a vignette of the butchers of old. Shamelessly we
have to take a photo, it’s just awesome!
We
both need some more appropriate footwear, flip flops just aren’t getting it
done anymore, but a quick look in a shoe shop results in mild palpitations and
a sharp exit. Jon claims that it was because it was too “leathery” (???!), but
we both know it’s because shoes shouldn’t cost €400.
We
duck into the cathedral and catch a mass in progress. The cathedral is up there
with some of the most beautiful that we’ve seen. The sound of the sermon echoing
off the stone and the ringing clarity of a female soloist is all very moving.
Chartes
is clearly a prosperous city and very beautiful with it, however darkness is
falling and after a quick beer in a rather unlikely jungle themed bar we fumble
our way back in the dark, along the treacherous river path, to the campsite. The day has definitely been redeemed, against
all the odds, thank you Chartres.