Not the greatest start, when our shuttle was cancelled, and we had to wait an extra half hour - when we'd got there in time for both of the preceding departures. Oh well, the rest of it went well enough, thundery showers notwithstanding. We were glad we weren't heading north, however - after two weeks with public holidays in them, the leave-saving tendency was heading reluctantly home to the Île de France. The approaches to SW Paris were clogged for miles, as was the motorway stretch south of Vierzon.
It's the first time we've made the journey with help from GPS, and it's a good job we knew where we were going, since Dotty, our GPS helper, certainly had different ideas. I think her plan was to take us right down to the Périph, which we prefer to avoid, either using the Quais from Asnières to Boulogne, or taking the A86 north-about, including the curious duplex tunnel. That said, having chosen the latter, which involves a tangle to rejoin the N118 that would challenge the most experienced boy scout knot expert, she was actually helpful. Her French pronunciation Needs Work, however: Bourges, near where we are spending the night comes out as Burgezz, and I couldn't begin to reproduce her pronunciation of Rue Joseph-Aristide Auxenfans. I dread Millau and Béziers, and will positively grit my teeth when we reach Lézignan-Corbières.
She also helpfully alerted us to dangerous road segments, recommending a maximum speed. Oddly enough, the Republican authorities seemed to regard said segments similarly, demonstrating the fact by installing radar speed traps. Quite coincidentally, I understand that it's unlawful in France to alert drivers by GPS to the presence of speed traps. Isn't that a funny coincidence?
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