Day 8: Paris
Welcome
Yesterday we left Calais to play a show in the city of lights and love, Paris, France.
We had a fairly gentle start to our day and left the hotel mid-morning, passing the Tunnel Boring Machine Virginie one last time before getting on the autoroute des Anglais, the A26 motorway that leaves Calais and trails Southwest through the Hauts-de-France region. After an hour of pleasant high-speed driving we transitioned onto autoroute A1 that put us on a Southerly heading. The breakfast was accomplished at a rest stop where I enjoyed what is considered fast-food in France but is in fact generations more advanced then anything that passes for a road-side snack in New Zealand, a baguette with preserved meat and butter.
The highways in France are extremely well maintained and pleasant to drive on. You do pay handsomely for the experience however with the 285km journey costing us €35 in tolls. It was one of the windiest days we’ve every experienced in our time van touring and even the smooth and spacious roads didn’t prevent us getting buffeted around by the unrelenting crosswinds that kick up on these flat, open landscapes. The countryside was incredibly beautiful though and we never tired of seeing the endless acres of green cropland punctuated by towering wind turbines, and the odd high speed train.
We’re never upset to get overtaken by a TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse).
Autoroute A1 heading South as seen from the overpass. Three lanes each way with a hard shoulder.
The beautiful and windy fields of Northern France.
Driving in Paris is quite a different story from driving on the broad, open motorways however. It is more like driving back at home except without the lanes, and with a million more pedestrians and cyclists, and some of the road rules are different but you don’t know which ones. The traffic is less orderly but more forgiving which is good for as when you inevitably make a mistake the other drivers just accommodate you. We made it into Paris largely mistake-free though with the only major hitch being that I hadn’t kept an eye on the fuel gauge and almost ran the tank dry before we reached the venue. Tristan had to do some quick google maps searching but he navigated us to a petrol station and all was well.
The ‘petrol station’ Tristan navigated us to, a single pump on the side of the road manned by a gentleman who filled us up pit-stop style without us having to get off the van or even turn the engine off.
The show was held right next to the Saint-Martin Canal in a venue named Point Éphémère. The venue shares the building with a gallery space, several studios and offices, and the Sapeurs Pompiers de Paris (Fire Brigade). Cherym had made it across the English Channel unscathed and we were happy to see them again when they rolled up in their camper. The show went off without a hitch and somehow Liz’s banter landed even better than it did at all the UK shows. The Paris crowd were fun and a bit wild and seemed thrilled that we had finally made it back.
The Saint-Martin Canal, Cherym’s camper is visible in front of the venue.