Whatever that means
Another day of driving just to cool down. Drove into Orbey in search of markets to be told that there was one now in Kaysersberg and one in Orbey tomorrow in place of the usual Wednesday market because Wednesday is Bastille day. And another in Orbey on Wednesday evening (on Bastille day?). Anyway, too late for Kaysersberg so we drove up through the hills to Trois Epis and down into Munster where, just to prove that the world is small, we bumped into the Moores who had set out on their own in the opposite direction. Munster is famous for its cheese and storks (and also for being a cheap two-bit rip-off of the Addams Family). After some Ice Tea and Orangina in Munster we just missed the getting caught in the rain as we drove out, via a farm shop where we picked up some cheese (Barikas), some ill-advised beer and trinkets for children and parents. Set off again for a picnic up a hill then a walk around one of France’s national war cemeteries at Le Linge. The sight of these cemeteries is always sobering and although this isn’t on the scale of somewhere like Arlington, which is still the abiding memory of a trip to Washington 30 years ago, the effect is the same – the waste. It’s impossible to explain to six year olds.
From Le Linge the plan had been to take the kids to Kaysersberg for a swim. We drove straight there but luckily the Moores went via the camp site to find the tents being lashed by a thunderstorm that hadn’t yet reached Kaysersberg and Graeme stayed behind pegging things down. It had largely passed after a couple of hours so we were still able to cook and eat under a reconfigured tarpaulin. By bedtime it was gone.