This is Easter Monday. This is a motorway. This is a Bank Holiday. In France. Where is everybody?
Not on this road, that’s for sure. Himself was driving on the way home from his brother’s place in Poitou Charente and loving every minute of it. It’s a great feeling having the road to yourself, he says. By the time we’d travelled further south, back towards home, there was more traffic, but mostly heading north.
We played the what’s the percentage of foreign cars in France? game. Himself counts French makes as we overtake or are overtaken and I count everything else. It always goes something like this: Peugeot, Peugeot, Renault, VW, Peugeot, Renault, Citroen, VW, BMW, Peugeot, Peugeot, Mercedes, Citroen, Renault, Peugeot, Nissan. Anyway, it works out at well over 75% of cars on French roads are French made. Not a rigorous survey in a scientific way, I know, but what can’t speak can’t lie, as mother used to say.
Travelling is a joy on roads like these. France is a big country compared with the UK, so you always feel as if you have more space and this photo speaks for itself. I can’t imagine any major road back in dear old Blighty looking like this on Easter Monday.
We like to come the slightly longer way back just to take in the scenery – and to have another chance to see the Millau viaduct. We love it.
When we cross, we know we’re nearly home.