My lament as Al swings that massive van around tortuous, precipitous narrow roads in the Alsace region of France.
Gears! Change down! Edge! I'm going to be sick!
Still, pretty amazing views.
Have tried to train myself to look at the vista, according to Al's instructions. But I can't cos I've got special combo altitude/travel sickness.
Mind you, I'm so lucky to be doing this amazing journey.
Mcdonalds in France: well, on this Sunday morning in Colmar, we were the only customers. Free, unlimited wifi, great coffee and clean toilets with music playing. Just what the doctor ordered.
Munster: beautiful village on the way to Langres. Like so many French villages. Picturesque. Think Grimm's fairytales and more. Cobbled narrow lanes barely wide enough for our van. Arches, steeples, medieval. Windows full of quaint pottery, clothes, patisserie. (Just had a 30 g of carb bite of an eclair. BG will possibly ring the bell on that one.)
Spent last night in a Colmar camping ground on the river Ill. Balmy. Slice of moon & stars peeking through but not til 9-ish. Al beat me at Scrabble. No biggie. As I've said, anyone can. No advantage to be an English teacher. Better off as a finance analyst.
BTW. Props to the French & Germans for taking Sundays off and donning the leathers or lycra for some steep mountain riding. Sundays are siesta quiet. Will be eating in the restaurant tonight. Couldn't top up the supplies with no supermarches open. Bit low on diesel too. If we run out, I'm divorcing Monsieur No Worries on our return home. He suffers from over-relaxed syndrome.
Tip: when you've done your five hours driving and you're waiting in a queue behind a woman of a certain age (Judi Dench?) in a menopausal too tight skirt & 'scuffs' while she plays with her remote control to back her caravan into the spot that you had dibs on on your first reccy of the camp, pour yourself a chardy. Prevents fighting with your spouse who was just trying to find the right spot. (Story of his life.)