We keep telling each other that we aren’t in a hurry now that our little road trip has been shelved for the time being, but we’ve sort of fallen in with this little band of boats, and if they want to keep moving on, well who are we to deny them the pleasure of our company?
With that in mind we arrived in Bar-le-Duc sometime between the morning and afternoon, where we thought a little lying around would be in order, perhaps to the accompaniment of the humming and whirring of the washing machine. The management of the little port had other ideas though, blocking access to the water and power supply until too late to wash o’clock.
The management of Team Teutonic had other ideas too, so we soon found ourselves wandering over hill and dale, acting as tour guide through the completely deserted byways and alleyways of Bar-le-Duc that by now we know so well. We did note with just a tinge of envy as we wandered, that on this Sunday afternoon everyone in town had managed to have the snooze that we had not. For a moment gave thought to staying on for a day or two, but we prevailed to pressure from our accompaniment, and tomorrow will once again take our place at the head of our little procession.