Clermont-Ferrand: Not so "oo-full"

The long journey back from London to Monte Pego started on wednesday as we headed towards our first destination of Clermont-Ferrand.

I chose C-F on the grounds that, at 6-7 hours drive from the Eurotunnel terminal, it is as far as we could reasonably expect to get in a day. Just over halfway through France, it was described by a Parisian couple that we had dinner with in Ecuador as "oo-full" (awful). They recommended a nearby chateau instead whose rooms start at €600, so we thought we would risk C-F for one night. And we were pleasantly surprised to find a big town square with bars and brasseries and an old town with plenty of restaurants. It even has trams. Red ones too. You can't ask for more.

The day's drive was enlivened only by Maria, the spanish sat-nav voice, directing us onto the Paris ring-road, the dreaded peripherique, which didn't impress Suzanne who was driving at the time. After some terse words between Su and Maria we got out of Paris. I tried to stay out of it and sat quietly in the passenger seat next to Al, the 3 inch high woollen llama that we acquired on Lake Titicaca and who is the official mascot for this trip. He didn't want to get involved in the row either. He has seen a lot in his three weeks with us - six different countries in less than three weeks.

On day 2 the impressive scenery to the south of C-F kept us interested in the morning. There were ranges of extinct volcanoes (a lot more visible than the much-vaunted ones we couldn't see in Ecuador for cloud)  and great views from 1000m high as the motorway weaves its way towards the Med, which we finally glimpsed around lunchtime between Beziers and Perpignan after crossing the impressive Millau viaduct.

Soon the snow-covered Pyrenees loomed on the horizon and we crossed the border at La Jonquera back into Spain, the country we left more than a month before. Glad to be back!

Motoring

We have driven the entire length of France over the course of two days. We are probably biased but the journey didn't seem as interesting as driving through Spain. The western side of the country seems fairly flat and there is enough room for the motorways to pass by towns without being able to see them. In general therefore 1000km can pass without witnessing more than a subtle change of scenery. A medieval pilgrim on his way to London would no doubt have encountered all sorts of strange happenings on the way through France but if the modern day traveller puts his head down and foot on the gas it is pretty much possible to pass through without incident. So we have very little to report about the country that has brought the world some very good wine and cheese, turned frogs legs and snails into food, turned strikes into an art form and given birth to Napoleon, popular revolutions, William the Conqueror, Joan of Arc, General de Gaulle and of course Thierry Henry.

The highlight of the journey was a very fine evening spent with Suzanne's great friend from school, Fran, her husband Laurent and their boys, Julien and Tom near Nantes.  They live in a nice village house with a big garden and we sat outside drinking wine and barbecuing dinner while we caught up with the events of the previous five years since we last saw them.

Suzanne & Fran reunited

Maria the Spanish Tom-Tom woman guided us pretty well, although we weren't expecting to spend so much time in an industrial estate on the edge of Rouen. Nevertheless we arrived on time for our eurotunnel shuttle to Folkestone.

The other side of the Channel Tunnel went well too as we drove in bright sunshine up the M20 to London but after 2250kms with zero traffic hold ups our luck was bound to run out somewhere. And of course that somewhere was just the wrong side of the Blackwall Tunnel. After a lengthy delay we made it through the last few miles to our London home, which I last saw more than eight months ago. It was a good reminder of what we have been missing. The infrastructure can't cope, everyone is in too much of a hurry, the cyclists are living on borrowed time and the pedestrians in Hackney still think they have right of way over cars. There were various road closures and detours as we relied on local knowledge instead of Maria who is probably sobbing inside the Tom-Tom and pining for Valencia.

But we've made it all the way back by road and we have a week to reacquaint ourselves with the flat, friends and family and the office.  I wonder what we will make of it all. After visiting Africa and Latin America in the last few months this could be the biggest culture shock of our year away!