One of the problems with blogging daily is that some days there just isn't too much to say. Once again Tomtom helped us find the road less travelled and the journey down through rural France was pleasant enough, just nothing worthwhile to comment on. The campsite too was ho-hum; back

There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked sixpence a__gainst a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together in a little crooked house _ _ Well, he certainly could have hailed from Troyes. What

Our next planned stop was the municapl campsite in Troyes, 150k SE of Paris and over 180 miles away from our site on the Somme. Two choices, the quick route (3hr 5 min) down the peage (toll) motorways or the slower route avoiding tolls (4hr 25 mins). Like Robert Frost

You'd have thought owning a brand-new Romahome R20, carefully selected after dozens of other models had been dismissed, that I would be exempt from van-envy. But, no, there it was as we crossed the bridge in St-Quentin, coming toward us - a brand new Romahome R20 with the numberplate R20

Maybe it's the maudling effect of the strong local beer, maybe it's reading 'Birdsong', maybe it's just being on the Somme.... but, everyone should come here and weep.

... and other poorly remember schoolboy French phrases. We knew that night one (nuit un) was always going to be the most fraught. Having carefully researched a municipal campsite not to far from the centre of Bethune (90 mins from the ferry) we discovered an internet post the day before we