Pont L’Eveque to Lisieux – Strange Days Indeed

Thanks John, but nights can be even stranger. I checked out the nearest lav, which was surrounded by dozens of kids in tents, and of the only two working toilets one had got a kid’s vanity case down it and the other had a kid’s electric toothbrush. I decided not to release my doo dah.

Back in the tent it began to go dark and I tried to get comfortable for a good night’s kip. Suddenly something landed on my head – it was a frog! It must have got in whilst I was FaceTiming Maggie outside the tent, and waited until I was least expecting it to land on my baldy bonce. It made me jump I can tell you. I turfed him out.

Then through the night it rained quite heavily. In casinos there are mirrors which people stand behind and can look through to spot any rotters who might be cheating. My tent works in a similar way. When it rains heavily it let’s water in but then it becomes waterproof inside and doesn’t let it out.

When I took the tent down I found I had pitched partly on a pile of pooch poo and partly on a slab of concrete. I’d been too anxious to get it up before any rain might come. I should have taken my time, the sun shone for another hour.

I was tired and set off in a huff. It was overcast and I only had a swig of water for breakfast. Silly old ninny. Walking round the lake things got a little more psychedelic. A couple were stood at the top of a boat launching ramp and they clearly hadn’t understood the basic premise that you reverse your vehicle, with the boat on a trailer, and keep the van dry and the boat afloat. They had somehow gone in van first, and it had sunk, dragging the boat with it! Fair play to the van, its top brake light was still working!

The couple were a bit damp, clearly in shock and laying out some retrieved valuables to dry out.

Then, as I slunk away without offering to try pulling the van out, two fire engines, two police cars full of coppers and two unnamed security vehicles with impressive flashing lights arrived on scene. I was tired and didn’t want to forget events so I videoed myself.

The route was direct, straight up the valley by the side of the River Auge. Quite busy initially but then easing off. These road walks are a mixed blessing. You can get places fast on a flat surface, but it’s not always picturesque, like country footpaths always are. A chalk cliff, but it was quite hard, almost limestoney. There’s a Neanderthal cave lurking in that greenery somewhere, I’ll be bound. A lot of me being bound on this trip. We don’t have that kind of thing in Yorkshire.

This was a fabulous house, with a lake to the left just out of view which was boiling with carp. Just by the tree to the left, near the house, is a remote lawn mower. It just roamed about until it hit something and then changed direction.

Then breakfast. Most blackberries are green and dry but I came on a few that were fully ripe. Fantastico!

This is a memorial to a family, but I couldn’t work out what was originally inscribed on it. There is a sad story here.

And now the benevolent side of water. Adding beauty and purpose!

I had set off well before 9am and although I was knackered I was making good time. By 12.30 I was on the outskirts of Lisieux. I think I’ve underestimated the distances I can cover in a day; particularly here where oxygen is 100% that at sea level, there are no crippling climbs, no avalanches and the weather at the moment is mercifully cool. And no leeches. They were creepy. You couldn’t even feel them because they inject you with anaesthetic.

There was a Super U supermarket on the edge of town with a cafe in the corner and I had lunch there, feeling very full of myself. Just over 4 hours and I’d covered 11 miles. Just two and a half to go. Lunch was great, and cheap. Three courses, including veal, for £12. Then I reset off and came upon a bike race in the centre. The French are big on this kind of thing. Don’t get it personally.

At 3pm I checked in to my Airbnb place, showered, washed my clothes, hung the sleeping bag and tent up with my dripping clobber and phoned our lass.

Lisieux is ok, but it’s crumbling, the roads are shocking, some buildings are bricked up and the young population cover their faces with scarves and stagger about. Drugs at the centre of it I think. But every generation throws a hero up the pop charts. The boy in the bubble and the baby with a baboon heart. There’s much more to La belle France than this. Let’s find it!

Night night.