driving the backroads in northern france

Yesterday we drove out with out little rental Opel car, it’s about the size of a child’s toy, along the winding mountain country roads. Some are very narrow, and you probably know, that you take your half out of the middle in those cases. Jan and I looked at each other as we drove out the driveway with a childish excitement realizing we could barely read the signs let alone communicate meaningfully with anyone. That’s how adventures start.

The highways are fine and well marked, and the local roads use traffic circles instead of stop signs as long as you follow the advice of “What ever you do, don’t stop in the traffic circle, keep looping around until you make up your mind.” It’s the back country mountain roads that are so slight and narrow, often relying on periodic pullouts to let faster traffic by or let oncoming traffic pass.

Well, I can tell you that when other drivers come along these roads that are little more than goat tracks one moves a bit to the side, holds their breath and squeezes their shoulders in as if to make both cars fit. Some how they always do.

Our Tom-Tom took us back along tiny narrow roads through the mountains and we were so thrilled make it back. Our Tom-Tom seems to have the soul ( and accent ) of an Irish Girl.

Tomorrow we will share a working-man’s lunch in the village, but we have a long adventurous drive to Dijon.

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