Le Mans to Ecommoy – An Ordinary Walk

Nearly 16 miles on offer today. Any takers? Urban, then flat, agricultural, featureless land. I’m not expecting anything special. It had rained substantially in the night and would douse my fire on and off through the day. The biggest issue was the wind that was developing up to storm force later on. But firstly I walked down to the city centre.

I had to wait for this bloke, and his son. The first and last. Nothing to be done. Let’s go!

An appropriately grim looking cafe showed up along the way, with a frying pan, eggs and hot plate clearly on view from outside. I entered the establishment, in the wind and the rain and the backstreets. Thanks Ivan. I got a coffee but the bone idle bloke behind’t bar said he couldn’t fry me two eggs. In fact no food at all available for an hour and a half, pronounced ‘haff’ when one is moving into a possible grump situation.

If you want a proper ‘half’ pronunciation my disobliging friend, then you can stick this one up your ‘harse’. Along with the two eggs you won’t fry me. The sky is clearing a bit. Time to walk.

This is probably the best war related memorial, in terms of sculpture, that I have ever seen. It’s stunning. Sadly the shot from behind is out of focus. Still amazing.

It doesn’t relate to WW1 or WW2, but to a previous invasion 34 years before the start of the Great War. By the Germans, obviously, in the Franco-Prussian war of 1870. They were the only ones with the hatred to invade France three times. Four if you count the Franco-German war in the 10th century. Well, we did too, in fairness. Many times. But the French started it in 1066.

I think, because 1870 – 71 was such a resounding victory, the Germans thought it was ok to do it again later. After losing this next one they clearly couldn’t believe that this should happen. A bit like 1966 and the present women’s World Cup exit. So they tried it again a short time later, going for the best of three. Lost and lost overall 2-1.

Don’t yet rejoice in his defeat, you men! Although the world stood up and stopped the bastard, The bitch that bore him is in heat again. Thanks Eugen.

Anyway Le Mans ended well with a Big Mac brunch. For me, not the French defenders. They got shot, surrendered or deserted. Poor lads. Really poorly led.

There are some gems in this town.

And a lot of the outer roads are converted into racetrack for the famous 24 hours race. This is a bit of track brought into play only for the 24 hours, to join two sections of road,

Talking about daft displays.

But these are refreshingly real!

The rain became more persistent, and the wind got stronger. By the time I made it to Ecommoy campsite fairly hefty branches were becoming dislodged. The site manager suggested that I put my tent under the strong wooden roof of his games area to protect it. And me. Top man!

I spotted an ancient London bus parked up overnight with 6 blokes kipping in it. I’ll tell you its fascinating story tomorrow.

Night night.