Thursday, July 25:
Up cold and early for a small breakfast while Rose finishes her book. Assisted by a gentle gendarme, we race to Besancon making one stop along a pleasant river to stock up on postcards. I also have to buy Rose some (precautionary) Kotex as well as pills for bladder - ( "ce sac qui contient l'urine") infection. Drink coffee with some "sapeurs" and Rose breaks a cup for good luck.
Near Besançon, we pick up our next hiker, Peter, an actor with long black hair, who speaks French but was born in Cologne and now lives in Freiburg: he is also on the way to Avignon, and is a fine conversationalist and good singer who shares his cheese sharing our beer.
The scenery is fine with high chalk cliffs
and the wide and turbid river Doubs
(I recall: Rhone met Saone met Doubs) known for its witch Jehane (right) who resembles Rose
in 40 year-retrospect
Next comes Lyon which was disappointing, possibly because of the heavy rain and the absence of Rhone-"aaks"
on the wide river Rhone (the Delta of which was studied by Bill Menard, just so you know!). Peter's joke: "This is from Goethe." "From where?"
We are all tired and glad to stop at Valence where we find a restaurant which would only serve snails (escargauts) and omelettes at 19:00 - sorry, since it is only 18:30, we make do with ham washed away with Peter's wine.
It is crepiscule (?) or half-dark while we drive through the flattish Provence - apparently Peter's favorite region, and worthy of an auspicated visit, till we reach one of my favorites: Orange. (remember the Dutch national Anthem: "Wilhelm of Orange am I of German ancestry .....and the King of Spain I have always faithfully served")
It is rather late in the night when we are lucky enough to find a 4p bedroom in Terminus for Frs.15. Before tumbling into our beds, we appropriately drink ORANGE Juice generously laced with rhum . . .