We arrive
at Aurillac and the weather has abandoned us. It is most definitely raining.
However Aurillac is where the Umbrella was invented, so we should be in safe –
and hopefully dry- hands.
The aire is
tricky to find and looks absolutely nothing like the photo in the book, but
it’s acceptable and so we park up. We are parked opposite the most bird shit
covered car the world has ever seen. And later we realise that we are parked
under the same tree. Not clever. We both decide we can’t be arsed to move. His
poo looks old anyway, all the birds have definitely left. (4am in the morning,
AMAZING how loud bird shit can sound landing less than a foot above your head
on a metal roof. Splat, splat, SPLAT, splat. Sigh. Shit. As it were). If we’d have asked for a Dalmatian effect
paint job on the van it was definitely job(s) done, as it were.
Aurillac
itself while being completely and utterly closed for Easter Monday seems like
it would be a really cool and vibey place, if anything at all were to be open.
The architecture is amazing and there are stoney old hotels and antiques
everywhere, really pretty. The book of all parking knowledge mentioned that it
close to a rather loud bar. From what we heard it wasn’t the bar, but the whole
town. All night, through to the early hours all we could hear were the screams
and shriekings of the inebriated. Quite why people have to drink so much we
just don’t know. Ahem.
Hardly surprising nothing was open in the morning on the
bread run then. Jon goes out foraging early doors and manages to find one
lonely hunchbacked greying hermit, emerging from the morning mist, clutching a
baguette to his pigeon chest. Retracing hermit man’s steps, Jon returns
successfully laden to Valerie. We get set to zoom.
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