coming to Deauville.
Mosquito in the dorm! The last thing I expected, but then again those Asiatic bastards can find a niche almost anywhere that there is a little water... Next they'll cross the channel and chaos will reine!
So it rain and rain for the final several kilometres before I saw a bar with the mention of friends(amis) and popped inside to get off the sodden clothes. In a campsite I enquired about the chance of a chalet for the evening, but my luck was put. Finally, with the help of a pretty arrogant NC yank and the barmaid I hauled my heavy self over the pont and into, dreaded, Deauville. It's up there with Chantilly as a foolish place to spend any time, but unlike there I couldn't ask the priest because I am no Chemin Saint-Jacques. 20 plus kilometres since I left Honfleur and I kept thinking I was in Cornwall, with it's coves, coming down, wet as it was, in Trouville-sur-Mer which reminded me of Mevagissey...
On this truly haphazard trip I tried Steak Tartare last night, which was surprisingly tasty, but I can't tell if it that or the linseed heads I plucked and ate which are causing me complaint in the bowels this morrow.
The weather has truly changed and there is a gale flying in from La Manche. Yesterday in my haste and anxiety I tried to get out of the Hostel, perfectly fine minus the mosquito, and back onto the yacht.
***
There is a bus at 9 so I am heading west into the unknown of Normandy - Calvados. Caen is it's destination. From there I feel drawn south towards Le Man's...
On the bus heading over to Honfleur via Pont de Normandie, where I will climb off, to continue on foot awhile longer. The GR223 goes through Calvados.
Impossible I know, but I pray the PIP issue is resolved by October at the latest! I don't want to left clinging on with mounting debts, which I was in the position to clear prior to 30th June when the governments dole declined by two thirds.
Windfall plums on the Route to Bois du Breuil.
Walking along the shoreline of La Manche it's reminding me of Cornwall, Rock Polzeath Padstow etc, and the weather is similar, but you rarely see gun emplacements or pillboxes?
So it rain and rain for the final several kilometres before I saw a bar with the mention of friends(amis) and popped inside to get off the sodden clothes. In a campsite I enquired about the chance of a chalet for the evening, but my luck was put. Finally, with the help of a pretty arrogant NC yank and the barmaid I hauled my heavy self over the pont and into, dreaded, Deauville. It's up there with Chantilly as a foolish place to spend any time, but unlike there I couldn't ask the priest because I am no Chemin Saint-Jacques. 20 plus kilometres since I left Honfleur and I kept thinking I was in Cornwall, with it's coves, coming down, wet as it was, in Trouville-sur-Mer which reminded me of Mevagissey...
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