le Cheat

The rain had delayed us at the Triel Sur Seine campsite and so we spent just five minutes at the Arc before heading straight along Rue de Friedland to Gare St. Lazare. We got a 15.27 train to Gisors, avoiding the rush hour, for 11.90 euros each. The train had two compartments that each had two vertical bike slots.
From Gisors we went north on the D14 - a white road parallel with the D915. This was a beautiful country ride - the afternoon sun was out to stay and apart from the school bus dropping off sprogs there was little traffic. I'd called ahead to the campsite at Le Coudray Sr Germerjust to make sure it was still there - a necessity these days. We stocked up on the vitals in Serifontaine and rode over the plateau passing fields of green wheat, peas, triffids and so on. More tiny villages and expansive views until we reached the village and it campsite behind the supermarche. This site, is next to a living farm where the cows are brought in each evening and spend the night ramming the steel walls of their confinement. But, the pitches were beautiful - soft earth beneath mowed lush grass. The plot was huge and sheltered by trees and a hedge. The man said 12 euros and we expected that meant each but that was it. The showers were 1 euro and included a free frog that squatted in the corner of the shower tray telling jokes.
It was the perfect evening. None of us put our tents up inside out. All showered up, the food bubbled and steamed, beer swilled over dry buds, the olives collapsed under greedy molars. Crap foreign lager only tastes crap when it is brewed in the UK. The beer companies know we only drink lager to get pissed so any semblance of flavour or purity is unnecessary waste so they just brew shit here. Honeykin tastes completely different in Europe - though any crap would taste wonderful after an assfull of saddle all day.
And after the haute cousin, the fine 1.85 a bottle wine and the blazing sky.

Oh, yes - the train ride was a little cheat but time was short, honest.