The road to Beaune

I tried to get Caron to write up todays blog but she refuses to put here literary skills on show so this will be a short day; nothing of interest happened!

We hopped on the highway and 300km later we hopped off the highway, set up camp and then went into town. I was feeling out of sorts and just wanted to sit quietly and read a book but instead we went to the wine museum (in the duc de Burgundy House) which was interesting even though it was all in french. We did a bit of shopping (bought a loaf of bread called a 'pain boule' - it looks like small rolls stuck together) before retiring to the campsite where I retreated to my corner of the campsite and demolished copious amounts of cheese and wine.

I felt better after a couple of hours but by then it was supper time so that was it, the end of another day.

Caron has reminded me that I missed out the part about going through the valley of Doubs and crossing the river of Doubs as well as passing the town of Dole. We looked hard for the fields of marijuana in the val de Doub but was unable to spot any, nor were we able to spot any inhabitants of Dole smoking the stuff since they haven't got anything else to do. Caron also reminded me, again, that I was a misery to live with today.

Crossing from Germany into France is quite a contrast, Germany feels very well to do and the houses and buildings and roads are all clean and in good repair; not so France. France is more like an artists study in elegant decay but not in the same way that Italy is; in Italy it really is just decay!