I’m having a lovely time in France traipsing around the Gascon countryside, visiting incredible markets, eating delicious food that is imbued with the soil, sunlight and water of the hills, meeting wonderful people and learning so much.
Driving here was not something that I expected I would be doing, but with our ten person group plus 3 instructing, (me, Kate Hill and Tim Clinch), I was drafted into driving three of our participants each day in a little Renaud for field trips and outings.
Now, this may sound harmless enough but you haven’t driven with me. If you say left, I undoubtedly will go right. Last month after getting lost going to SeaTac to pick up a friend, a drive I have done atleast one hundred time, I finally purchased a GPS unit. Best decision I ever made!
So in France, Kate, Tim and I drive in a caravan together with me in the middle. They know the area here well and to be sandwiched in between them gives me a great sense of security.I had gotten to know the back of Kate’s little white car as she is always in the lead and Tim’s red van in the rear view mirror or so I thought.
Yesterday my merry little band of trustworthy bakers had an unexpected adventure.
There are lots of roundabouts and as we were driving from Condom to Fourcès and apparently I had do-si-do’d when I should have done a round-a-about. The car in front of me was no longer white.
White, light grey, dark grey…hmmmm…all these little French cars look alike to me. I had lost Kate for a bit…well maybe for about 10 kilometers of a bit… but I didn’t know it yet.
Now up on my left flank passes Tim, trying to wave me down.
“Kate, where ARE you going?” He had been flashing his lights, trying to get my attention for 30 minutes and since the roads are so narrow here, he couldn’t pass me to get me righted. He said I had been “driving like a total lunatic”.
But, this lunatic was just just enjoying the beautiful Gascon countryside. I had taken the scenic route…a very scenic route on the day of the full moon.