Back the way we came, again.

The young German couple on the next pitch down were packing up at the same,time as us. Their two year old son was having a great time giving Ralfi small sticks then falling about with laughter as the dog made off with them, his long tail wagging furiously. He is very gentle with small children and only becomes barking mad when faced with pooches six times his size,.

In between dog and toddler watching we chatted about our respective homeward journeys, the Germans to Weimar in the east of the Bundersrepublik, ours to Northern Angryland. Impressively the young Germans were planning to make the 1400km trip with only one stop. Even in our most manic moments, when for a decade or so it became the norm for us to dash to the Med every Easter, we always needed at least two stops to drive a similar distance. These days, in the moho we tend to give it a week. No rushing about. We also seem to have become somewhat stuck in our ways in terms of our route home staying in the same places for the last three sojourns along the A75 autoroute. Though we are happy to meander south, once we decide to go home for some reason we are seized by an imperative to head back as quickly as possible.

So, once more, two days at Loupian and Meze...

North, by-passing Millau by the bridge - a photo is compulsory...

Next, an overnight stop at Massiac - nice free aire by the river, great cheese shop, typical Cantal town, handy for the A75 autoroute... what more can you ask?

Ever northwards, the Massif Central is France's Pennines, complete with dull weather and drizzle...

Next, squeezed on to the ever popular Aire at St Pourcain sur Sioule.

The French do love their appalling public sculpture - sometimes so bad it's good....

A longish drive to Sully sur Loire, we conspired to arrive on market day. The cheese and olives were good, we passed on the horse meat..

We stayed two nights and managed a very pleasant cycle up the 'Loire en velo' track...

Next day, an even longer journey to to Neufchatel en Bray; big clouds over wheatfields near Chartres presaging the stormy weather to come. As on the way south the aire at Neufchatel was full and we squeezed onto the last place in the one nearby in nearby Mesiniere en Bray.

An over relaxed start the following day meant we were last people onto the 12.30pm ferry from Dieppe, the last minute dash made even more tricky by a convoy of trucks carrying giant bits for a wind-turbine.

The crossing was very lumpy-bumpy, I am not a good sailor; I never actually throw-up, I just go very lethargic and feel like death. Homecoming always feels a bit odd, right now perhaps 'dreadful' is the best way of describing it.