WEDNESDAY, 16th August 2006 – Bernay all day

After a good sleep, without any dreams of propane gas poisoning, we woke at 7.30. Showers were taken, and the bread man arrived, bearing gifts of baguettes and croissants and “roules chocolate” – a pastry wheel with custardy stuff and chocolate bits. A yummy breakfast, although probably not that good for my waistline.

Norman came over, toolbox in hand, and set about the gas manifold. It turns out there was a major leak from the cooker outlet (which we knew about), and a more minor leak from the manifold inlet. Both of which he’d suffered on his Pollensa. This was strange indeed. Both were fixed of two spanners and some weak washing up liquid mixture.

Tour de Bernay

Many thanks, Norman, and we swapped addresses and phone numbers. They left to continue their journey home, and we cycled off towards town. Down the big steep hill, a quick wander around some shops, and a foray into Intermarche to get some vital bits, and then it was the steep climb back up again. One of our purchases was a mains kettle – something we’d thought about, but dismissed. But when you might be living off two bottles of British gas, with no chance of exchange, you learn that you should conserve this precious commodity if at all possible.

Then – how do we plug a French plug into a UK socket? All the adapters we had went ‘the other way’. I tried a shaver adapter, which worked mechanically, and electrically for probably about half a second, before the 1amp fuse blew. Merde!

Time for a spot of lunch, and a bit of a chill out, until it was ‘time to do something.’ I chose a walk into town, which enabled me to visit the newsagent, and purchase a copy of “Le Monde Du Cammping Car” – full of glossy pictures of the latest models. Which is a strange thing. All of the brief overviews of the motorhomes included an almost obligatory damsel, draped over a settee, lounging on a fixed double bed, or helpfully opening a cupboard in the kitchen. I looked in vain for a picture of her emptying the cassette toilet, or winding in the hookup cable in the rain, when it’s covered in mud. Perhaps it’s not important to these people – better to show a kitchen cupboard, or what a fixed bed looks like.

We wandered around the town, and walked up the hill overlooking the town centre, and then down again, pausing to take pictures of two cats on a windowsill, thus allowing some ne’er do well to fire pellets of some kind at us. Plus ca change, and all that.

Back to the campsite, and it was time for tea. Whilst Annie cooked, I messed around with the bikes. In their previous arrangement, the kitchen window couldn’t be opened, because the bikes, and bits of the Fiamma rack, got in the way. Well, actually, they allowed the window to be opened, but didn’t allow it to open further to release the stays so it could be closed again, thus necessitating the unscrewing of the stays from the window frame. Needless to say, I struggled and adjusted and fiddled and faffed with the various lumps of bike and rack, until the window could be opened, and more importantly, shut again afterwards.