Abbeville to Amiens.
Heading out of Abbeville along the towpath( halage ), passing beneath a disused girder box bridge, on the canalised Somme, to my left, it's silent except for the crunching march of my sandaled feet, the morning calls of the birds, a distant cockerel, a train passing into Abbeville on my right hand side and a gentle rain falls: it's green. In the distance to my right hills: so south of Amiens. To my left dense woodland. From the insanity of Tuesday to the annoyance of Thursday: horseflies biting me at every opportunity. And mosquitoes adding to the desperation. Hustling down the GR800 from Long, via L'Etoile to Flixecourt and an American Diner (French Diner) with the full playlist of RCA Elvis 56 playing out and with a tear in my eye I eat a Betty Burger, fries and sauce American. Such a strange serendipity. Thinking of a night in with my girl soon with my sister being away from Saturday and I am dog/house/fish sitting until she returns and then I turn my attenti...