As a sucker for punishment, I cycled thru the Paris morning rush hour to Saint Lazare Station. As far as I can determine, a Red traffic light means go and a Green Traffic light means create a stand still in the middle of the intersection. Also there are rules and there are rules. If you are a motor bike/electric scooter/Moped there are no rules. If you have a expensive car, again there are no rules. If you drive a truck or lorry, park in the bike lane and put your flashers on. If you are a cyclist – you’re mad.
Anyway, I hopped on board the train to Vernon and glided away from all of this. It did mean I’d be able to ascertain whether Giverny was less crowded than when I went thru it on Sunday. Nope. The same number of people were making their pilgrimage to Monet’s home. This time I noticed that there were even some Haystacks carefully prepared in one of the spaces and clustered by them were a group of camera clicking tourists.
Soon all was left behind and I, once again, had the countryside to myself as I gently headed north towards Dieppe so I could met a good old band of showers and winds gusting to 55 mph. But by then I was in camp and ready for it with a cup of tea.