Day 2, Mardi, Audinghen to Wimeroux, 3rd May
The said Cycle-away returning from Wimeroux.
Our first proper Bonjour! In France. Its feels good apart from the interrupted sleep caused by the water pump in the caravan making strange noises in the night. Whilst drowsy I was convinced that a small animal or snake!?! Had crept in during the night and had got stuck, thankfully it was just the missed switching off of a switch that made the lurking, stuck predator type murmur.
Our first proper Bonjour! In France. Its feels good apart from the interrupted sleep caused by the water pump in the caravan making strange noises in the night. Whilst drowsy I was convinced that a small animal or snake!?! Had crept in during the night and had got stuck, thankfully it was just the missed switching off of a switch that made the lurking, stuck predator type murmur.
We decided to cycle, on our town bikes, to Wimeroux a village or two away. The manager of the campsite told us of a market there and we thought we would give it a little visit. The road to Wimeroux is very windy and however beautiful, painful. This leads to me being left on the route to Wimeroux while Bob cycled faster and faster away into the windy landscape. I have never seen anybody on 12” wheels move so swiftly. The scenery was one to be admired, fields and fields of swaying growing stuff I cant quite distinguish, although being in France I am sure it may be garlic?
There are sand dunes, more cows, camper vans just parked in the free camping spots on the side of the road with the people enjoying the sun, then there is me, chuffing my way up and down hills, sometimes cycling, most of the time, walking, trying to enjoy my splendid surroundings, lonesome, hoping to see the Cycle-away Bob sat waiting for me on a grassy verge. About an hour later, rather red faced and wind swept I meet the said Cycle-away returning from Wimeroux. I am mad. Really quite angry and upset. We had set off in search of cooking oil, butter, loo role and cheap wine, and I hadn’t even made it to the market before he was cycling back on his way to meet me. Maybe he felt a slight pang of guilt that I was strayed on the windy roads somewhere? Or maybe he realised that I was the laden down donkey carrying everything including the purse? Who knows? After a slow make up we make our way, my first way, into Wimeroux.
The market is slightly disappointing, or maybe I am still steaming a bit? There are Legume (vegetables), Fromage (cheese), Pan (bread), a whole pile of second hand clothes I am unusually not drawn to and some musty looking cheap second hand shoes. Damn. This is a world away from what I had imagined, acrobats, clowns, accordion players along with the odd bit of fromage being sold for less than 1 euro. Oh well, never mind, France is still great, and it is a local market not a circus after all. We buy some pan (a long one but it is not a baguette) four onions, a lettuce (salade) and two MASSIVE apples. I chose the hugest I could find on purpose, the French would win hands down in a giant vegetable competition, Aller Francais!
Still no oil, butter, loo role or cheap wine. We look around the town for a while, there are the usual shops, a cafe tabac, a phamacie, boulangerie’s and a mouth watering chocolate shop. We cycle down to the sea front where there are lines of beach huts, all painted with nautical beings like dolphins, boats and men in swim suits with moustaches.
There is no sand, it is rocky, and the sea sprays up like mini geezers when it hits them, which I like. On the return home we search for a super market, non open, it must be barely 2pm, whats going on? I lose the 12” Cycle away again when I think I have found an open shop. It wasn’t open but the kind lady let me in and shows me her local produce of caramel, cider and fish seasoning. I tell her in part French that I am in search of butter, she looks promising when she produces a block from the fridge in the back, but then points me in the direction of ‘Shopi’ which we had already visited only to find the shutters down. I spend the journey back alone. Taking cycle breaks to take in my surroundings and photograph it. Returning to the campsite Bb is waiting for me, all laid out on the grass at the gates, I get my own back on him by cycling right past him, Ha!
There is no sand, it is rocky, and the sea sprays up like mini geezers when it hits them, which I like. On the return home we search for a super market, non open, it must be barely 2pm, whats going on? I lose the 12” Cycle away again when I think I have found an open shop. It wasn’t open but the kind lady let me in and shows me her local produce of caramel, cider and fish seasoning. I tell her in part French that I am in search of butter, she looks promising when she produces a block from the fridge in the back, but then points me in the direction of ‘Shopi’ which we had already visited only to find the shutters down. I spend the journey back alone. Taking cycle breaks to take in my surroundings and photograph it. Returning to the campsite Bb is waiting for me, all laid out on the grass at the gates, I get my own back on him by cycling right past him, Ha!
We still have none of the items we set out for. I remember seeing a sign for Aldi when entering Wimeroux, not fancying the 5-7 mile chuff back, I decide to drive. Bob comes avec moi as I think he wants to hep. Aldi turns out to be the answer to traveller budgeting and we aquire wine, the least expensive being just 85 cents and the most 1 euro 29 cents, beer at 22 cents a can, bargain! Just what we need. We also bought the biggest lettuce in the world for 49 cents and I do believe you cant buy a larger lettuce. After spending just 21 euro we are stocked up for quite some time, and even remembered the loo role.
On returning I wanted to take one of our bargain wines to the beach, but Bob got a Karma issue in his knee and needed to rest.
On returning I wanted to take one of our bargain wines to the beach, but Bob got a Karma issue in his knee and needed to rest.
As I write we enjoy our bargainous Vin et Beer and discuss further travelling and budgeting and how the awning on the caravan is wonky in one corner. Tomorrow I will drink wine on the beach and visit the donkeys up the road even if it means the karma knee hobbles its way there next to me. I am cruel, but not without reason.
I forgot to mention the Moules et Prawns! How could I? Being ‘je suis vegetarian’ I wasn’t subjected to this. Being by the sea and all, Bob decided to treat himself to moules and prawns for tea, we had stopped at a poissonerie at the top of a hill and bought some.
The shop was cute and when you walked in a bell rang and a man appeared from his sofa in the back where he had been watching tv. You bought moules by the litre and prawns by whatever the man put in the bag. Whilst enjoying his tres French supper Bob crunched on a moule, a bit unusual? It turned out to be a miniature crab! Shudder. This put him right off and whole lot went into the bin. It was a shame. Crisps and pan will have to do then.
The shop was cute and when you walked in a bell rang and a man appeared from his sofa in the back where he had been watching tv. You bought moules by the litre and prawns by whatever the man put in the bag. Whilst enjoying his tres French supper Bob crunched on a moule, a bit unusual? It turned out to be a miniature crab! Shudder. This put him right off and whole lot went into the bin. It was a shame. Crisps and pan will have to do then.
Oh well, another tomorrow, another view,
Bon nuit, x.
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