Day 2 - Frankly flippin bonkers

Myrtle outside the hotel in Loches today

I have to say to drive 300 miles in frankly crazy driving conditions in a small mini with one excited co-pilot and a nervous wreck of a passenger was hardly the start I needed to the day.  Picture the scene a fairly comfortable if not cold night in a rather shabby French hotel was preceded by Crepes of the finest quality washed down with a few tour Cidres.  The room one I would imagine would be turned down by a German officer if they stayed here in the war as not being up their usual standard of cow shed it can only be described as “in need of some renovation and a heater that could do more than make an apology for the heating industry” 

Waking at 7 and considering a bath before breakfast as most Englishmen abroad would do  pulled back the curtains with horror only to reveal 4 inches of snow laying deep and crisp and even.  Hackers was awoken and it was like all her Christmas had come at once as she scuttled along from her room, her window in her cell would only achieve a view if you had a step ladder and an external telescopic ladder.

The view from the window was frankly beautiful but scary.  The first two days of the trip are the long hauls.  My thinking being that 2 long days early on would give the chance to relax later in the week and break the back of the journey, if not mine.  Will we get out the Village? If so how far? and if so would the roads be open.

I had heard from the French lorries drivers that snow clearance is frankly piss poor so much so it makes the English Highways Authorities best practice experts when we have had 1cm of snow last year.  

Myrtle was covered in snow fortunately outside the Boulangerie which was open, the roads  cannot be cleared but as least you can get a fresh some fresh bread!  She started first time and with front wheel drive plonked her outside the front of the Hotel.  

As one wag suggested that I strap the french loafs from the bakers to Myrtle and use her as a motorised sled.

The next 30 mins can only be described of french farce as passenger known as dig could not make up her mind whether my mind whether she wanted to die just yet at the hands of Isambard.  I can understand her thought patterns had thought gone completely barking proposing to drive 250 miles in a small mini in falling snow, with 5 inches on the ground and piss poor snow clearance on the roads.

I packed the car and frankly ready to go as prevarication reigned.  I am not totally bonkers so decided the motorway route although less scenic guaranteed a measure say 45% chance of survival at the end of the day.  I was proved right.

Somewhat clearer conditions further South

It took us over an hour to drive the 25 kms to the motorway.  No snow clearance and a bunch of French Sunday slow drivers that would put a London cabbie to shame.  At times the road was 5 inches deep in snow and the only route when not sliding around was to get into the tracks of the car in front.  

The arrival at the motorway was not much better, the toll booths were closed and deep in Snow - too deep to drive into - that was my excuse i was sticking to it (only to have a very long winded conversation with the border guards, opps Toll booth operator at Clermont about why I did not come Paris today - either way it cost me 36 euros!)  

The next 2 hours was the most painful driving experience i have ever had - 30 mph on a single track through the snow on the motorway - in effective salting and gritting and only at the end snow ploughs tested Myrtle to her limits.  I stopped twice in the middle of the empty motorway to defrost the windscreen wipers - a dangerous activity at the best of times but in falling snow frankly a must do - the road was empty.

It was a tad hairy and any slight relaxing of the grip of the wheel you felt Myrtle slip left or right on the packed snow.  She was also very sluggish - as she was packed with ice underneath and her underbelly skirting the top of the snow.  At 30 mph control was easy but I was wary that any slight mistake could have been fatal.  

I am pleased to say that I am typing this as we head south of Clermont towards Le Puy on a clear motorway - agent dig is driving and Hackers is asleep in the back - the road is void of any road snow. Travelling through the beautiful Volcanic region of the Massif Central - my A level Geography days remind me of the stacks and French rift valley.  This is Rugby country and as we travel through I am following the ireland v Wales match on twitter.

We have had many a French rugby fan at various service stations come up to us and admire Myrtle and discuss Rugby.  I am really proud to be part of this great sport.  Even if Matt Dawson on twitter seems to think that the English Ref, Dave Pearson was not up to the mark today,  Wales win 23-21.

Fundraising has been slow today but I see another 60 quid added online today (Thank you)  we are doing very well with 6 days to go before the match :)  

Whatever happens today we are thinking of little James and Ruby back in Exeter.

The motto of my rugby club Wessex RFC is Semper Audex “ever daring”  today was daring enough thanks very much! 

Wing Commander.

PS: Just arrived at Hotel 12 hours after setting off !!!! Time for a cider!!!!!!