Bayeux, Normandy, France

It feels sad to know after tomorrow, we will be returning home. Yes, it will be nice to see our family, but homecoming also brings normality. Flu and covid jabs. Marge's MOT. Marge's repair. A fence to fix at one of our rentals. And hopefully a buyer for our house, from the viewing conducted today. This morning most of the vans left fairly early, as did we. But not before John cooked his omelette using the outside kitchen, this time with our French neighbour sat watching him in his underpants. The Frenchman, not John. A little unnerving, when you're trying to  break a couple of eggs. Soon Marge was powering along the fast road that led to the ports. Village after village flashed by with small stone churches, set on lush green grassland, and water logged fields of claggy soil. We have noticed a change in the weather these last couple of  days and yesterday evening we'd had our diesel heater running for the first time this trip, as we ventured north the weather had become a little cooler. Probably not a bad thing, we needed re-acclimatising for our return to England. Our early departure meant we'd be at Bayeux before twelve. The campsite receptions close at twelve, and don't reopen until around two, so if you don't make it in time you've lost the best part of the day.

Marge parked, in a rather nice spot near the facilities, we marvelled at the smart campsite with its manicured grass and neat borders. It was like staying in a park. And this was a three star municipal campsite. Municipal campsites are great value for money, but you never know what they will be like. This one was exceptional. Set on the outskirts of the town, a fifteen minute walk alongside the river delivered us right into the centre.

Where we had a walk around the city centre and cathedral.

We stopped for lunch at a little pizzeria, then had a walk around, visiting the cathedral and paying, yes paying to see the famous Bayeux tapestry.

Then Angela had to take what would probably be the last chance to have a gaufre, or goffer, as John calls them. That's a waffle by the way.

Ever since we used to sit outside the tourist office at La Flotte, on the Ile de Re watching people buying them from the kiosk opposite, she'd hankered after one. Today was the day. warm, sweet and sickly, but delicious. We are very close to Cherbourg now, and tomorrow morning will stop at the nearby supermarket to buy wine. And probably lots of it. Why not, a decent bottle of red will set you back around £3.50 and with Christmas not too far away it's an opportunity to splash out on a few really nice bottles.