Another good night’s sleep, though I awoke with The Pup laying across my legs, looking out of the back window. It was so cute, but my legs had gone numb.
We had pre-ordered pain au raisins and some fresh bread yesterday for breakfast (going to have to nip this habit in the bud or we’ll become a pair of blimps) so we went and picked them up. I went for a shower and endured (in my opinion) a tepid pouring of water with one of those wretched automatic buttons you need to press constantly. We weren’t the earliest people today to be honest, so presume all the other lady campers had beaten me to it and pinched all the hot water. Anyway, it did the job and I sauntered back to The Van.
Today, we were heading south to the little town of Neuilly St Front where my grandfather’s brother is buried. He fought in the early days of World War One and died of his wounds in September 1914 aged just 26. He left a pregnant wife back home in England. He is buried in the town’s communal cemetery together with two other British servicemen – we think that he died before he could be evacuated and possibly buried on a temporary basis, but ultimately never moved.
We left our campsite and headed out – we ended up on a toll road which saw me leaning out of the passenger window to retrieve a ticket at one toll booth and lean out again when we exited the motorway, hoping I wouldn’t drop said ticket or my debit card. We are also learning how close we can get with the new van, so these situations are a touch tense. Anyway, it worked and with a sigh of relief we stayed on A roads for the rest of the journey.
The countryside was a bit like yesterday. We were now in the Aisne Departmente, another arena of World War One. Big harvested wheat fields across a flat and featureless landscape apart from distance woodlands. There were no hedgerows or stone walls. Wind turbines were abundant here and for good reason – there was nothing to stop the wind! Then suddenly we would drop into a valley where pretty villages and towns nestled, surrounded by woods before heaving back up onto the sprawling plateaus of fields. Here, you could clearly imagine the trench warfare of World War One and how both sides spent months shelling each other to gain a few feet of territory or to secure a piece of woodland. Total madness.
After nearly two hours, we dropped into Neuilly St Front passing another military cemetery on the outskirts. We found the cemetery easily and parked up nearby. It was the town’s cemetery, still being used and full of headstones of various sizes and grandeur. I had a vague idea of where Franklin was, down the far end on the left, but as I got nearer to the bottom, I was beginning to lose faith. There was a young man tending a grave and asked if he spoke English. “Non” was the resounding reply and my heart sank. How do I ask about Franklin. Somehow in very broken French, I mentioned “trois Anglais” “premiere guerre” and an “ici?” – bless him, he launched into conversation, all in French, leading me to the three headstones, less than 20 foot away. I could of kissed him.
I spent many minutes, like yesterday, staring at Franklin’s headstone and wondering about his last few days and what was his wartime experiences were like. I wondered who else visited his graveside – I was pleased that all three were tidy and looked after. I felt a lump in my throat again as I thought about him and Ernest losing their young lives like they did. And for what?
I patted his headstone and left the little cemetery, full of local French people and three Englishmen and headed back to the Van. Hubby went to have a look at the gravestone and then we had a cup of tea. Neuilly St Front was very quiet, hardly anybody around and it didn’t seem to have shops, or at least opened ones. So we decided to head to Soissons where we had booked a campsite, some 20km north.
We came into the outskirts of Soissons, needing a supermarket to stock up on some food. We pulled into one large car park thinking it was a supermarket, but it turned out to be a large bed showroom, but next door was a Lidl. We managed to slip across into their car park, but it was a bit shabby and there seemed to be homeless people hanging around. We found it a bit unsettling, so abandoned that plan and continued onto our campsite – we passed by the town centre which looked lovely, full of outdoor seating and lots of people. As we approached our campsite, we realised there was another Lidl just up the road, so we took a quick diversion and did a quick shop. We retraced our steps back to the campsite, asking ourselves why we always shopped in Lidl while abroad, but never at home (we tend to shop locally). Maybe it was knowing what we were dealing with a well known and familiar brand name and it was quick and convenient. We promised ourselves to try and shop more locally for the rest of the trip.
We found our campsite easily, the Camping Municipale Soissons and set up home. It was quite warm, so we had some lunch outside and chilled for the afternoon.
After feeding The Pup, we walked into town along the River Aisne under the shade of trees. It was very pleasant with parkland across the street with people playing tennis. We came up to a bridge and looking right, there was the street we saw, full of street tables, eateries and a woman singing under a gazebo. We decided to have a wander around town, up to the magnificent cathedral and through the shopping area. All the shops were shut, so we dived down a side street and came to the front of the cathedral where an Indian wedding was just coming out. Guests in all their refinery and ladies in their colourful saris, taking photos of each other. They soon jumped into their cars and headed to carry on with their celebrations. We wandered up to the huge double doors of the cathedral and peered inside, the warden telling us broken English that they do tours tomorrow, but now it was shut.
There was another tall spire of a church in the distance, surrounded by scaffolding and we headed towards that, but after a while of wandering quiet residential streets, we dropped that idea and headed back towards the centre.
We found the busy eating area and found a place offering wine and tapas. We sat outside in the warm evening and enjoyed our meal, people watching and listening to the singer.
Supping the last of our wine and with darkness fallen, we wandered back towards the Van and got ready for bed. Tomorrow we were heading to Rouen and the west coast of France.
apathtosomewhere 