We're back! We're still exhausted, but very happy with our new car, which took nearly 3000 teabags with plenty of room to spare...
One of the nice things about travel from England is the Channel Tunnel. If you have a reservation, when you arrive at the check-in booth, some gadget reads your car number plate, your name appears on the screen, you touch the screen to confirm everything they ask and a ticket appears with the letter corresponding to your crossing (in our case it was "N"), you hang the ticket on the mirror, have a cup of coffee (or tea) and wait for your crossing to be called. When that happens, you proceed to loading area, queue for a few minutes, then drive into the train, sit there doing all the bits they ask you to do, in another few minutes the thing starts moving and half an hour later you're in France! [Reverse the process if you're going from France to England, of course.]
The not so nice thing about travel from England to our neck of the woods is finding your way. I printed driving directions from Google maps and they were useless. All we need to do is get on the A20 and it's plain sailing from there. So I got directions from Calais to Vierzon, where the A20 starts. The big problem is the Paris bit. We followed all the instructions to the letter and it all went very well until we had to get on the "peripherique," which by-passes the centre on Paris, a place ONLY Parisians can negotiate by car. The sign we were waiting for never materialised and we were thrown off course, ending up on the A6 going to Lyon. As soon as we realised that we weren't where we were supposed to be, we stopped at a service station, asked for directions and had a couple of the several cups of coffee we consumed during this trip. It all went well after that and here we are, no thanks to Google maps!
All we need now is to obtain all the documents necessary to register the car in France. It's a laborious process, but very doable... if you're patient. When we registered our old Volvo, we met the local dragon, a very "charming" lady who deals with registrations at the prefecture in Tulle. She barks, she throws your papers back at you, things fall on the floor, she tells you you need stuff you don't, so you go back home to get whatever she asked for, return, "Why did you bring me this, it's not necessary." You have a nervous breakdown and count yourself lucky for barely surviving the experience, but you get your registration and new plates in the end.
We heard that she went a bit too far with the wrong person. She barked and threw the documents at some chap, he wasn't impressed and asked to see her supervisor. She tried to bark a bit more, hoping to intimidate him, but he identified himself as the captain of the local gendarmerie and she had no choice. Apparently, she's now in a back office, where she has no contact with members of the public.
It's been an eventful couple of days, with more to come with the registration and all that.
I think I'll make a cup of tea...
Oh, and happy 4th of July!
