We are staying in a hotel in this little village for two nights purely because we had a two day gap to fill in the itinerary. It was a good 4 hours drive from Ruoms with a hour traffic jam getting through Lyon. We checked the car navigation with google which said there was a 14 min delay on the road we were on but the other option was just as long, so we didn’t stray from the set path. Silly us.
The temperature has dropped remarkably and we have had to get our jerseys’ out for the first time since leaving home. Just as we pulled up to our hotel, which is tiny and doesn’t have one of those lean too things, it barely has a veranda, the skies opened and as we counted the distance between the lightening and thunder we wondered if we would be in the car for days.
When eventually its subsided to a dull roar we made a run for it. As I am nifty thinking traveller I had just put two days worth of clothes into a small carry on and we leave the rest in the car. This is just as well as we are literally in the attic, up three flights of windy stairs. No lift.
The next morning the weather map says we have until early afternoon before the thunder storms are back so we decided to rent bikes. Electric ones of course.
There is a bike path along a canal but we fail to find it and instead navigate ourselves out back country lanes where as we stop to look at our map outside a farm house a man, with a hammer, comes out and starts approaching us. Uh oh. Perhaps we are not meant to be here? But he talks to us in French and we nod a lot and we point on the map where we want to go and he says , Oui, Oui. He then speaks some more French, this time with lots of brilliant hand gestures, waving the hammer around and we nod a lot again and say merci, merci beacoup, au revouir and bike off none the wiser as to where we are or where we are going.
We manage to get ourselves back to town and waggle around the streets. They are very narrow. I can tell WH is concerned about my biking abilities in the town centre. Not so much my abilities but more my likelihood of getting run over by not staying on my side of the road. I can tell by his tone when I stop to take a photo. Which does make a pretty shot.
“You know you are on the wrong side of the road eh?” He says. “Yep, just taking a picture” I say, but actually I didn’t. I get distracted you see and then revert to what feels home, which is the left side of the road. He has untold suggestions “when you get down there just turn right”, Or “just just hop off and push across the pedestrian crossing”. Again as we exit a one way onto a two lane “you know which side of the road you are to go on, eh?” I know he is concerned but I don’t know if these suggestions are helpful or not as I sort of don’t like the tone, it feels a bit like in his head after each sentence it might sort of go like this
“You know you are on the wrong side of the road eh?” Are you kidding me you crazy woman.
“When you get down there just turn right” because you are not to be trusted to turn left
“You know what side of the road you are to go on?” FFS just get on the right side of the road – literally.
Anyway we make it back all intact and without any injuries to myself or others. I am very sure now though he will not be asking me to share the driving. Although I am sure I would be fine as I wouldn’t have my camera around my neck, although I still go to get in the drivers seat every time we go somewhere.
We are skipping lunch today as we are going to a Michelin star restaurant. Just because. I see it has stuffed frog legs on the menu.
Can’t wait…