In the quest to show Les a bit of everything, we stopped to visit the monster supermarket that hides innocuously at the top of the hill at Choisey, way out of sight of the quaint little village itself, before continuing after lunch into the heart of Dole.
We have emotional ties to this place. It is of course where we were when we found the advertisement for our “Joyeux”, where we got hopelessly lost in a car returning from the purchase trip and ended up driving the wrong way in lanes so narrow we had to put bricks against steps jutting out of front doors in order to continue. Where while washing clothes by hand in zero degree temperatures we began to appreciate how harsh life was just a few decades ago and where we made the decision to buy a washing machine for our boat.
Oh and it’s also beautiful. It’s where Louis Pasteur was born, has a market, a cathedral and a network of underground streams which were once the centre of a massive leather industry. It’s a place where one could show off one’s intimate knowledge of its little alleys and and services and of course one’s ever improving language skills. That is of course until one had to actually communicate with the nice lady in the port office.
“Can you speak in English please? My first language is German and I’m getting very confused with your accents,” was her lovely way of telling us that despite our best efforts, we remain unintelligible when it counts.
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