Our last few days in France.

Monday.

Apart from the traffic jam around Milan, we had a lovely incident-free, but costly (because of the tolls) drive to Chevillard. We did get to see Mont Blanc- it’s so tall- and drive through the Mont Blanc tunnel, which was a bonus. We pulled into what we thought was a petrol station but was actually a SuperU. The checkout girl very kindly let us use their toilet, and so we bought a six-pack of Heineken.

WE arrived at our lovely French farmhouse b&b, which I only booked yesterday, to be welcomed by Patricia, our hostess for the next 2 days, and when I say welcomed, I really mean it. We were greeted with the kiss on both cheeks, and we immediately felt comfortable. She doesn’t speak English, so I had to use my halting, very bad, word-by-word French, but Patricia was so patient with me, we had some lovely conversations.  The speech was so slow Keeley was picking it up too.

We had been driving all day with nothing to eat so thought we’d go out to dinner. Patricia gave us two business cards so we headed to the closest one in Nantua. Wouldn’t you know it? Of course it was closed-it is Monday! We parked in their carpark and wandered down the street until we found a bistro open.

It looked pretty posh, so Keeley just ordered a vegetarian pizza, while I was more daring and ordered the four-course set menu- I was very hungry. First the salad- I don’t know what was in it but it was delicious, then the mains Quenelle au Sauce Nantua. I only ordered this because it was obviously a local specialty, but it was so scrumptious I not only went back for lunch the following day but got the recipe as well!

I can’t even describe the taste- but imagine scrambled eggs but mostly whites in a cheesy creamy shrimp sauce and you might be close to it. This local delight was followed by a platter of five different cheeses, and then dessert; crème brulee.  Keeley was tempted by the chocolate mousse, and we wonder why we’ve put on weight! My beverage of choice was the “ vin rouge de la maison” and Keeley’s was a “biere.”

We could see the lights reflecting in the lake as we walked back to our car and decided we’d come back tomorrow to see it in the daylight. Back to La Haie Fleurie for a good night’s sleep.

Tuesday 

We awoke late to a delicious homemade breakfast. Everything, except the butter and juice, was made by Patricia. Baguettes, croissants, pains aux chocolat, even the jams- “confitures” were all made in her country kitchen. There were 6 choices of jams- I couldn’t knock back the rhubarb- I think my favourite all-time jam.

Then off to Bourg-en-Bresse to see the cathedral, but alas it was closed for lunch, so we headed back to Nantua, parked the car and walked along the lake. We found the memorial to the 44 children who were captured by the SS in World War 2 and sent to concentration camps. Keeley wanted to visit the Museum of the Resistance and Deportation after learning the story. It was closed on Tuesdays, so she decided to visit at 10am tomorrow before heading off to Troyes.

Back to our favourite bistro for lunch. I chose the 3 course menu and so did Keeley. We both had a delicious salad with eggs and prawns, followed by Quenelle, and dessert; crème caramel for me this time.

We called into the Intermarche to stock up on a few essentials – one of which was a bottle of red to share with Patricia- and a beautiful poinsettia in a pot as a thank you for Patricia. She had outdone her duties as a b&b hostess. She was touched by the gift, and put it in pride of place in the window of the kitchen. We drank the red and chatted- when I say chatted, I mean word-by-word. She spoke slowly so I could understand and I spoke slowly because that’s all I could do!

Dinner tonight was breakfast cereal for me, and cup of noodles for Keeley. We were not very hungry after that delicious lunch! We emptied the car and packed our bags ready for our flights, as we may not be able to do it at our hotel tomorrow. We played a couple of games of  “Ticket to Ride” of which Keeley is the champion, no matter which country we play.

Wednesday

We woke up to a misty, drizzly day but managed to load the car without getting too wet. I wrote in Patricia’s guest book and she took our photo in front of her house. She was genuinely sad to see us go and we were just as sad to leave! We both loved it here. This was the experience we had been looking for at all our airbnb houses! As we drove off, she flung open the windows, and was hanging out waving “au revoir”. We were all crying.

We headed into Nantua again to visit “la musee de la resistance et la deportation” only to find it closed. It closes at the end of September! So off we went to Troyes. Another uneventful drive ensued. We passed 126 trucks before I became bored and stopped counting, saw 6 other cars, one bus and one motorhome, so I think we were on the truck highway!

For a change, our GPS had allowed us to actually enter the address of the hotel so we thought we’d have no problems locating it. By this time, it was raining and darkening, so we really wanted to get there. GPS “ turn left”, sign “no left turn”; GPS again “turn left”, sign”no left turn”! After this kept repeating again and again at different intersections, Keeley gave up in frustration and parked the car. We grabbed our backpacks and started to walk to the hotel asking directions along the way. We had actually parked not too far away from it. We arrived at the hotel wet and disheveled, to be greated by the concierge, ”Where is your car?” “Parked in a street.”  “Do you want to use the hotel carpark?” “No, it’s fine.” “Why did you not park in the hotel carpark? The address is right here on your booking form.” Typical! I hadn’t even seen it!

We reconsidered parking the car in the hotel carpark- we needed to get an early start in the morning so it may be 8 euro well spent. The concierge offered to drive as Keeley was all out of “calm and assertive”. Might I add, for only the second time this whole trip- the other time being when she locked herself in the toilet in the truckstop in Slovenia. I meanwhile went up to our “comfort room”- we had been upgraded- to dry off.

When Keeley returned, she related the tale of his driving being the scariest thing she had encountered this trip, and that included driving down the tram-only street in Zurich! Thank God I didn’t accompany her! As it turned out, he had never driven an automatic so was hitting the brake so hard every time he stopped, Keeley thought she was going to fly through the windscreen.

Once again, we had eaten nothing all day, so thought we’d head out for a last dinner together. Our hotel was in the centre of the old town and a stone’s throw from the town square where a few Christmas market stalls were set up, as well as a carousel, and lights and music- very pretty. (see Keeley’s video)

We chose one of the many restaurants surrounding the square simply because it advertised an English menu. We entered but were told they didn’t take meal orders till 7, so we ordered a champagne (real one) with kir royale –just a glass- you should have seen the price of the bottle!

At 7, our English menus were brought to us to peruse. Some things obviously can’t be translated so I handed my menu across to Keeley to use her “translate lens” to figure out what one particular item was. I wanted to order it, as it was the local Troyes dish.

I had forgotten about the little oil lamp on the side of the table, and the next thing I know, I was holding a flaming torch. In my attempt to put it out, I burnt the tablecloth, and made a mess with the ashes. Not only did our waiter not offer me another menu, he never came back! A much older man took over our service.

I settled on “les moules marinieres” from Mont St Michel, which were the best mussels I have ever had, small, soft and tasty and a huge pot full- at least 80 of them. Chips were served as a side. Keeley had fish and chips, during which time I told her all my terrible fish bone stories- most of which she doesn’t believe! We really were quite full, but shared a dessert platter with tiny crème brulee, chocolate mousse, millefeuille, pannacotta and macaroon.

We were planning on an early night so went to our car to get my suitcase to repack it. As we were walking down to the hotel carpark, we smelt a familiar smell, and I remembered the reason I had booked this hotel-it had a hot tub! We located it only to find it completely covered, but Keeley lifted the cover a tiny bit and I felt the temperature of the water- it was warm! So I went to reception to ask could we use it tonight. Yes, we could book it for an hour! They would call our room when it was ready. We could hardly wait. We really didn’t want to get our togs wet, as we had to carry them on flights tomorrow, so we went down, locked the door and stripped. We luxuriated in the 35-degree water, thinking what a fitting end to our trip together. When the hour was almost up, I showered and put on my pyjamas, thinking no-one would see me as we hadn’t seen anyone in the lift since our arrival this afternoon. Famous last words!

Thursday

Up early, a sumptuous breakfast at 6.30, and on the road by 7.30. Finally, it’s dawned on me- this is our last day together. Keeley’s been feeling sad for the past couple of days, but I’ve been ok. I couldn’t enjoy my breakfast and ate very little. Keeley, however, made the most of it. Only 2 hours back to Paris, well, that’s if there’s no traffic!

The last part of our trip was bumper-to-bumper traffic. At this stage, I was becoming very anxious to get the car back in one piece.  We managed to get back in the rental car drop off zone by following the signs, and were greeted by a young guy who inspected the car. Oh no! One of the hubcaps on the passenger side was scraped beyond recognition.  This happened on the first day driving through our first village, where the street wasn’t wide enough for two cars! When I mentioned that it was either hit the gutter or the oncoming car, he said he wouldn’t note it down. Keeley’s smile may have helped!

We found where Keeley had to check in for her flight to Heathrow, but since it was so packed you couldn’t even see where the lines started and ended, we decided to get me to the bus stop for my trip to Orly first.  I asked at information how could I get to Terminal 3, and when I was told, I mentioned as an afterthought I had to catch the Les Cars Air France bus to Orly.  Oh no! They leave from this terminal just downstairs between 2 E and 2F. Thank God I’d asked and not blindly believed the information I’d read on their site. Keeley grabbed me a trolley and we walked out to the bus stop, where we said our goodbyes as non-demonstrably as we could. God, I’m going to miss her!