Where's Bertie? He's in an Aire (that is really a campsite) in Troyes at a cost of €15 per night including electricity. Exact location: 48.312185, 4.096685.
Weather: Sunny intervals, Friday 15 degrees, Saturday 17.
Troyes is about 2.5 hours from Étival-Clairefontaine, where we had languished for three nights. We broke that journey up, although not very evenly. After 3 minutes we stocked up at an Aldi. After 20 minutes it was a small detour to a laundrette.
Every time I do laundry, I stand in the middle of Bertie and contemplate what items I have forgotten (because it's seldom just the contents of the laundry bag), and every time (or so it seems) I forget something. Last week it was pyjamas, and if it hadn't been for that, we probably could have got away without doing another wash on this trip. Of course, having made the diversion and needing to pay for the machines, I made the most of it and did a full load (€6.50 for a 6kg wash and a 16 minute dry, so pretty good value).
Then to Troyes. At the time of publication of our Rough Guide to France, this Aire was the municipal campsite (and apparently 5km out of town; I've checked the address, it's definitely the same place). It's now a motorhome Aire and the old reception/toilets/showers/laundry building is closed. The fact that it used to be a campsite is, however, relevant as, to my eyes, it is still a campsite. The pitches, each bordered by hedges, are huge. You could fit 3 Bertie's on ours, and some are even bigger. All very nice; far nicer than we need.
We did nothing out of doors for hours after we arrived here, which was fine by me as it turns out my trip and subsequent sudden and close examination of the pavement in Nancy had more of an impact than just skinning my hands and knees. I can only assume that I landed with my elbow between tarmac and ribs, as my ribs are decidedly bruised. I'm fine as long as I don't breathe deeply, laugh, cough or look over my left shoulder. Despite that discomfort, after tea we decided we'd been indoors too long and took a leg-stretch.
This morning we walked into Troyes. Contrary to the guidebook's '5km out of town' claim, we reached the edge of the old town after just over 1km, and were at the cathedral in 2km. It was still early, and everywhere was quiet as we looked around the cathedral and poked around some of the streets.
Cathedral
So much stained glass
It took a while to work out why they were all left hands
More wandering ensued, greatly enjoying the wonky half-timbered buildings, even though we've seen more than our fair share of half-timbered towns across both Germany and France over the last few years.
Probably not the best framed snaps
We then discovered that it's market day, and around the market the streets were far from quiet. What a huge market it was too, spreading around three sides of the indoor market. We took a walk through the market hall too, and got completely disorientated upon emerging on a different side.
Weather: Sunny intervals, Friday 15 degrees, Saturday 17.
Troyes is about 2.5 hours from Étival-Clairefontaine, where we had languished for three nights. We broke that journey up, although not very evenly. After 3 minutes we stocked up at an Aldi. After 20 minutes it was a small detour to a laundrette.
Every time I do laundry, I stand in the middle of Bertie and contemplate what items I have forgotten (because it's seldom just the contents of the laundry bag), and every time (or so it seems) I forget something. Last week it was pyjamas, and if it hadn't been for that, we probably could have got away without doing another wash on this trip. Of course, having made the diversion and needing to pay for the machines, I made the most of it and did a full load (€6.50 for a 6kg wash and a 16 minute dry, so pretty good value).
Then to Troyes. At the time of publication of our Rough Guide to France, this Aire was the municipal campsite (and apparently 5km out of town; I've checked the address, it's definitely the same place). It's now a motorhome Aire and the old reception/toilets/showers/laundry building is closed. The fact that it used to be a campsite is, however, relevant as, to my eyes, it is still a campsite. The pitches, each bordered by hedges, are huge. You could fit 3 Bertie's on ours, and some are even bigger. All very nice; far nicer than we need.
We did nothing out of doors for hours after we arrived here, which was fine by me as it turns out my trip and subsequent sudden and close examination of the pavement in Nancy had more of an impact than just skinning my hands and knees. I can only assume that I landed with my elbow between tarmac and ribs, as my ribs are decidedly bruised. I'm fine as long as I don't breathe deeply, laugh, cough or look over my left shoulder. Despite that discomfort, after tea we decided we'd been indoors too long and took a leg-stretch.
This morning we walked into Troyes. Contrary to the guidebook's '5km out of town' claim, we reached the edge of the old town after just over 1km, and were at the cathedral in 2km. It was still early, and everywhere was quiet as we looked around the cathedral and poked around some of the streets.
More wandering ensued, greatly enjoying the wonky half-timbered buildings, even though we've seen more than our fair share of half-timbered towns across both Germany and France over the last few years.
We then discovered that it's market day, and around the market the streets were far from quiet. What a huge market it was too, spreading around three sides of the indoor market. We took a walk through the market hall too, and got completely disorientated upon emerging on a different side.
The range of wares at the market was extensive, from mattresses through dozens of clothes stalls, pans and utensils and the standard French fruit, veg, meat and cheese stands. The only photo I took was of this array of peppers.
Our mission was then to find somewhere for a drink and snack. This is not usually a problem. France has bakeries (with tables) all over the place, except, it seems, in Troyes. In fact, at this point, we'd not spotted a single boulangerie, with tables or otherwise.
That resulted in us seeing much more of the old town, and a bit of the main shopping area, before we settled on a bar in the main square.
Forgot to the take the obligatory snap until after significant progress had been made on the croissant.
We did vaguely contemplate nipping into the Tourist Office to get a map or leaflet, but just continued wandering, reading information signs as we spotted them (all bar one that we found were bilingual).
We'd gone prepared with sandwiches, which we ate in a park, whilst I looked up information on the museums. We likely would have visited one of them, if it hadn't been for the fact that they'd all just closed for lunch themselves.
So, more wandering and reading of signs.
It's certainly an attractive and interesting town for wandering.
That resulted in us seeing much more of the old town, and a bit of the main shopping area, before we settled on a bar in the main square.
We did vaguely contemplate nipping into the Tourist Office to get a map or leaflet, but just continued wandering, reading information signs as we spotted them (all bar one that we found were bilingual).
We'd gone prepared with sandwiches, which we ate in a park, whilst I looked up information on the museums. We likely would have visited one of them, if it hadn't been for the fact that they'd all just closed for lunch themselves.
So, more wandering and reading of signs.
It's certainly an attractive and interesting town for wandering.
As we arrived back at the Aire we spotted a table right by the entrace/exit on which there were various leaflets and a pad of tourist maps, complete with all the main sights highlighted and a suggested route around the town. By luck, rather than by design, an inspection told us we had managed to hit most of the sights.
"Looking over my left shoulder..."
ReplyDeleteBrings back memories of my much missed Springer Spaniel, Barney. When he romped ahead off the lead and did something naughty he had a way of giving you that glance back over the shoulder with a comical, quizzical expression that said something like "How about that then?"
I can picture exactly that sort of dog look, but can also clarify that I hadn't been naughty when I looked over my left shoulder!
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