Our sneaking plan, genius as it was, could of been made into a heist movie.
We awoke in Madrid a little worse for wear. It didn’t matter too much as the jaunt down to Granada was barely a few hundred miles. A cinch on the distances we had been covering before. It would have been a whole lot easier if European town planners had the good grace to put there cities within easy driving distance from each other.
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We thought we would embrace the chaos that was on offer. After the blast through from Bordeaux to Madrid we decided to rest for a while. That was over 400 miles in a single day. We spent the afternoon in our hotel room; Out of the burning sun and doing literally nothing to try and get our minds back to normal. That took roughly two hours. After then we were well up for seeing what this city had in store for us. But first we needed fuel. Human fuel.
Caught up in the current of rubber and steel; We just had to hold on. A longer we drove, the less desolate Spain became. We we now heading directly for the country’s capital, Madrid. From miles away we could see the start of a much more populated area. We could also see the start of a much more populated road.
We were doing this in a four-wheel drive rally car and we thought we were brave. We arose from the dark gulley that was France into the warm leafy cliff tops of the beginnings of Spain. It was a quick transition from one country to the next but the change was immediately noticeable. The buildings in the French forest all stood out as if they didn’t belong. The few fleeting structures that we passed now all looked like they were part of the ecosystem. The road cling to the hillside instead of carving through it. The fall to our left was jaw dropping yet we kept climbing. Up and up around the hairpins of the mountainous road.
With us, we had a lot more crisps, a sandwich that had quilted bread, and a whole load of cheap wine. Morning broke and the sunlight came through the very flimsy curtains that hung over the windows. We woke in a mess of a room. Last night hadn’t been the crazy free for all that an Irish bar might promise but the morning brought the same results. The room was strewn with our belongings and our heads we strewn somewhere else. A lot of cheap wine and expensive beer had been consumed and there was more waiting for us in the car.
It was handy having Maddicks as a sort of vanguard, running into embarrassing situations before me After drinking an awful lot of head and wasting some very good beer, we took a stroll into old Bordeaux. The centre of the city is completely pedestrianized. It harks back to the days when cars didn’t exist and neither did city planning. The twists and turns of the tight narrow streets are a magical labyrinth and the sense is only briefly interrupted by the passing space trams that carry the citizens of Bordeaux about their business. Walking through at night adds another layer to the texture of the city. The shadows cast by the medieval architecture do much to both excite with wonder and terrify with hidden drug addicts.
This was just one of those everyday things in France that we thought was amazing! Walking back to the hotel, we checked our pockets. So far on the trip we had been eating in restaurants and sleeping in hotels. Even with finding the cheapest places possible this lavish lifestyle wasn’t helping our minimal budget at all. This combined with the extortionate amount for a half pint led us to very quickly rethink our spending strategy.
a stand out contestant for the most bizarre hotel award. We woke in our budget beds. Our budget room had seen the night through and our budget selves were ready. We’d once again head to our budget car and hit the budget road. We squeezed our way out of the car park past where a coach driver had decided this entrance road was the perfect place to park. Tours was relatively easy to navigate in. We were in the newer built up area of the town where building in straight lines made sense. Back through the avenue we arrived in and we were out. We needed to be on the other side of the city but we figured it would be easier to leave the way we came in a loop around. There was one road that looped around the city. It was a motorway. Motorways were bad. They were not budget.
France has some pretty weird things in it. The sun started the set. The temperature fell. We left our day of comfort as the day left us. Coming out of the green lush of our time travel into the grey industrialism of another major city. The single lane road that we had swept down the river on had soon become a motorway. Tours soon arrived upon us. We drove down the main boulevard. High buildings separated with a median of trees. It was as if the country was trying to swallow the city once again. A foreigner in its territory. Not like the other cities we had been through. There was a certain grace in the isolation of Tours. It wasn’t so taken over with industry, society, people.
This was not a high-tech trip and sat in this village, in the sun, with paper in hand, we knew we had made the right choice. Back on the road we were forced to resort to our super economy multi pack of crisps for sustenance. With the sunroof open, we were probably running more on photosynthesis than anything else. The weather only kept getting better and better as we traveled further south which hid our aching bellies from our mind. We hit the open road towards Orleans, the capital of the Loiret deparment. We were away from the mountains of the east and given long rolling hills and green pastures to cruise by. After the events of that morning, the relaxing ride was nothing but good for our already wearing bodies.
What we found was not necessarily what we expected. We were flying. The sun was shining. We were on our merry way. The next point of interest in the Journey was Bordeaux. Even though it was on the other side of the country, we were pretty optimistic that we’d make it in one day. We’d done our research on Google maps and it was apparently only 500 miles. Our journey to Lille was 350 and that included crossing over water. There was also nothing we really wanted to see in middle France. It would be a long but fairly easy slog through the countryside on a warm Sunday.
We’re not sure whether it was deserted because of a poor economy or because it was just Sunday. Up the next day. Bright and early. Maddicks was in the shower by 7.30. I was in bed. Maddicks was out of the shower by 8 o’clock. I was in bed. The day had begun and another day of traveling beckoned. We picked up our bags and made it out into the freezing morning. The streets were completely empty. Were we really up that early? Before the rest of the city? When we got to the shopping centre that the car slept beneath, we realized we were. It was Sunday. Nothing open. No one around. We inspected the metal shutters covering the way to the car. We looked at each other. No way in meant no way out. Stuck in the city.
We were doing quite well at completely ignoring the existence of another nationality. We arrived into the Franco/Belgian border town with no plans what-so-ever. That was all part of the trip. Just get in the car and see how far we’d get. We’d gotten to Lille, with no idea of what to expect from here or anywhere else on the journey. Despite not having any inclination of what to expect, we were still shocked at what we found. Within the ancient buildings of the city, was a very modern event going on. Something these buildings would never of seen when they were first erected.
Is there life after death or is there just France? Watching the digital display from the car park, we saw our letter appear. The letter given to us as we arrived that signaled it was time to disembark. We followed the train of warily moving cars towards the big silver building of a machine that was going to take us under ground and underwater. Initially being careful to get the car through the tight opening in the side of the train, the stainless steel pipes let out a roar as I put my foot down. I don't know what the land speed record is for driving inside a train but we had a go at it. The innards of the train echoed as we made our presence known to the other passengers.
The sun was shining and our hearts were filled with youthful enthusiasm. With a starting time of 7am, we left home at precisely 8:23. The trip was already off to a great start. I had bought a GoPro action camera and attached it to the dashboard with the hopes of getting amazing documentary style footage of the road and hearty quip dialogue from the us in the cabin. It sat in front of us like a tiny excited robot child. Peering into the future with its electric eye; ready to capture the goings on for all to see. I just had to fill the car with petrol and Maddicks, I, and our tiny companion would be on the road.
I was never meant to go traveling. I was never meant to go traveling. I was happy. Contented. Sat in my home in rural England where 95% of the population called themselves white British. I didn’t see culture and I didn’t need it. A recent graduate, I like everyone else my age was struggling to find work. But that was normal. I didn’t help myself by trying to work in media of course but that was my own choice and I was sticking to it. I didn’t help myself by trying to work in the media in the South West of England of course but that was my own choice and I was sticking to that too.
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AuthorAdam White. Film, Travel, and Copy writer. The Accidental Traveler. Chapters
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