What’s keeping Godot?

Going home is such a ride…

Our night at Le Pre de Modestine, just outside St Jean du Gard, was probably the best of the trip. The welcome was warm, the accommodation clean and attractive, the food excellent and all was as near perfect as one has any right to expect. Breakfast was equally impressive and Madame offered to take our big bags to the town to save us carrying them, refusing even to take petrol money. She was determined to make what is the last night of the trek for most people memorable, right down to providing 10 types of home-made jam and two honeys at breakfast!

Today has really been a long wait: we had two and a half hours to kill in St J du G, then – after an hour’s bus ride (1Euro each) – three and a half at Ales railway station. There is a relatively comfortable 30 minutes change over at Nimes, where we get a TGV to CDG. See how at ease I am with all the initials us world travellers use!

In Le Recantou in St J de C, we had met two chaps – I think I referred to a twisted ankle one was suffering from. They ate with us last night and we said our goodbyes, only to bump into them again in Ales. But that’ll definitely be the last time as the were waiting for a train to Clermond Ferrand.

Even the weather has been on our side: as with several mornings, it seemed to have rained overnight and still looked threatening at times. However, not until we were on the bus to Ales did the rain start and it stopped before we had to get off again.

The train journey to CDG was OK, though running a bit late. CDG was a bit of a nightmare as the signage was a bit dodgy, unlike RLS trail. Eventually we found the shuttle to our IBIS Budget Hotel. Unfortunately, apart from a handful of other normal people, there was also a group of 40 French holiday-makers, and the one fairly disinterested check-in clerk was totally swamped. While waiting to be “welcomed”, I noticed the next shuttle had 5 people on it. Just our luck: how we laughed! Let’s hope a disagreeable wind doesn’t delay our flight.

For those puzzled by laughing and winds: my late mother woul say “how we laughed’ as a sort of verbal equivalent of “!!!LOL:)” and Sonia’s still extant mother frequently complains of a “disagreeable wind”. Mothers! Who’d have’em!

Over and out, until next time.

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