Legends from our own lunchtimes

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Finding somewhere to sleep -
Montceau-les-Mines to Génelard

Who would have thought, that after being at the wretched nightclub for two nights in a row anyone would have volunteered for a third?   We certainly didn’t.  Yet there it was sometime before four; the now familiar thump-thump-clack-clack of music played too loud for human habitation within a structure obviously too small for the comfort of said humans. 

It was of course also accompanied by the sorts of discussions held in streets outside when patrons, seeking fresh air and desperately trying to fall in love whisper sweet nothings at a volume sufficient to be heard over the music for relentless hours on end.

Dawn eventually thump thumped its way across the carpark, and by the time the locks were opened for business the nightclub was closed and it mattered no more.  We were off in search of silence.

In the village of Génelard, there is a quiet little harbour with a beautiful modern museum right beside it.  The “Museum of Demarcation” is dedicated to the demarcation line drawn across France in World War II.  We had tried to visit seven years ago, but as we later came to expect it was closed when we were there.   Determined not to leave it unvisited, we decided that it would be our destination at least for the day, or possibly until the museum opened if it was going to play those silly games that museums play as we pass.

When we arrived, the lights were out.   A sign stuck in the window said “finitely closed” suggesting that perhaps it wouldn’t be smart for us to hold our breath until something happened.

So we lazed around under clear sunny skies, accompanied only by the sound of our washing machine, and wondered if they are going to turn the building into a nightclub any time soon.


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