Except for the minor and quite reasonable cost of requiring a two Euro coin from time to time to feed the little green boxes which control our water and electricity supply, incredibly there are no other direct costs associated with navigation on the Somme.
Those little boxes are at the cause of a bit of a paradox. Electricity and water are supplied concurrently, so when we insert a coin with the intention of topping up our water, electricity is also available. The thought of that connection is enough to send one of us into a washing frenzy as load after load of slightly soiled or maybe even soon to be soiled items are dealt with by our electro-mechanical marvel. This is all well and good, but it also ensures that by the time our allotted electricity supply has expired, we are about run out of water.
It’s not easy to understand why it is so difficult to find the required coins, but it is one of our greatest challenges. For instance in asking in one town, we were directed to a post office in a village six kilometres away as a possible source. When we arrive somewhere, our first task is to seek out a business that is actually open, the next to find something to buy which is worth preferably a few cents more than five Euros. Then we offer a Ten in payment, ever hopeful that we won’t be handed a fistful of twenty cent pieces in change.
In Picquigny we hit the jackpot, leaving the bakery at the far end of town clutching FIVE of the elusive coins in addition to our bakery treats, which should be sufficient to allow us to hang up our walking shoes for a few days at least.
1 comment
Oh, what a conundrum! What comes first the washing or the water? Still, finding somewhere open is even more of a conundrum, isn’t it?
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