Down France

Writing from our friend’s house just outside Geneva, Gwen is resting after an exhausting trip over the Jura Mountains, proper switch backs and steep drops.  The whole area exudes a sense of longing, for the white stuff.  The snow has not yet arrived and all the villages we passed through seemed to be eagerly anticipating the Euros it brings.  The ski jump looked naked and slightly embarrassed.

We had previously spent a night at a free camper spot, basically a car park with a toilet, in the little town of Conliege.  Proper French town with a town hall and houses of decaying grandeur.  A reminder of the not so distant history was the sobering plague on the town hall wall commemorating the 17 local members of the French Residence who were taken to a concentration camp.

The night before was a lovely campsite in Bannes, North East of Langres in the Annes, Haute-Marne, region. We reached there after spending a great 20 odd hours in Nancy, a city succinct in content and attractive in outlook.  The aquarium was very special for H who liked the fish who looked like fish as opposed to Cat and my favourites that looked like a Notting hill carnival float and a drag queen.

Luxembourg was the only other place we have not commented on.  Very cheap petrol and consistently the 3^rd of 4^th richest country in the world per capita.  Lovely city with walls that tower up from the gorge below containing casements or caves that have been used in the past from everything from bakeries to armouries.

Geneva is a strange place, very functional, with little grace.  There are a couple of pockets of charm, particularly the botanical gardens which were a good run around for the H.

Off now to the supermarche for some food.