Where have the last eight and a half weeks gone? Perhaps Marge can answer that! As we left the excellent campsite at Bayeax we embarked on the last long drive for Marge. Not that long really, just an hour and a half. But first the Intermarche supermarket to buy wine. Sparkling Cremant and reds from Bordeaux. Not cheap plonk, but half decent stuff for Christmas. Just twenty bottles in total, and two wine boxes. That should do it. Obviously, it wasn't all for Christmas time.
Our stop for tonight was Barfleur. A pretty little fishing village about twenty miles from Cherbourg.
The drive there along many miles of dual carriageway gave John the chance to open Marge up. Risky you might think. But no, she performed well. A blizzard of falling leaves showered Marge, like confetti. Our ferry home tomorrow doesn't leave until six o' clock in the evening, so from now on we can just chill. All three of us. We wont leave Barfleur until mid afternoon as we do not want to park up in Cherbourg and leave Marge unattended. It's too risky with the migrants about. If we are stopped at border control when we reach Poole, which we nearly always are, whether in a van or on bicycles, they will ask where have you travelled, and have you left the vehicle unattended today on your way to the port? There is enough clearance under Marge for one of these people to hide, and we have a large roof box, albeit with four security locks. So there's a very good chance Marge will be pulled over. The van drivers are advised to remove the cover off of their bike rack, as this is the latest hiding place for these opportunists. This afternoon a walk along the shore, right in front of the Aire, for John to collect sea glass.
Then a stop in the town for coffee with musical accompaniment Les Emplumes (click to visit their website and music). By six, darkness had almost fallen, the sky dramatic, orange and red like burning embers. This time tomorrow we will be on the ferry to Poole. Time to plan another trip away we think.
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