Day 9 or something is not right here.

I can not classify the sound properly ……….

Stop. All right, everything in the green area. I always wanted to install a “teaser” that reminds me of old Jerry Cotton times. It sounded like this:
The dull “Plopp” from a 45er finished his life lightning fast.
And further:
As Phil fished out a camel from the pack, I peeled off the red leather seats of my Jaguar.
And if I’ve succeeded with the teaser, the disposed readers are now more than alert. But now back to the real life. That makes me wake up relaxed this morning, because I do not want to go out so early today. Having been here before, it would be downright pissing off the swine, if I did not make a quick detour to the Le Mans circuit, to see where the legendary 24-hour race took place a few days ago.
It is only about 45 minutes drive, and the museum opens at 10 clock, so no hurry. So I pack in peace and set off at 9 o’clock on the way, through the big city, which is at this time but comfortable to cross. Shortly before 10 I stand in front of the museum. Fits. I think for a moment whether I would like to take a look at the circuit next to the museum. Since the museum costs a good 1 hour, according to the internet, and the tours are well guided, the time required is too long for me. So I only take the museum, and as you can see in the gallery below, there is a lot to see.
If you want to take a look yourself, here’s it (unfortunately only in fr or en). I decided to go for a en. After 45 minutes I finish the tour in the attached cafe, which actually consists only of machines of recent date and motorcycles of older date. Nevertheless, charming, a breakfast with a view. The sandwich I drew, but corresponded to the date of the vending machine, the coffee was also warm. So from there, all right. Back on the bike, I plan the rest of the journey and set as a destination point Orleans. Also a French toponym that “triggers” something in me. I strive honestly until I have set the route with all the options you want and drive off. I’m always excited about the TomTom, but sometimes …… .. hiding the settings deep in the menu jungle.
The ride is pleasantly lively and contemplative, until I, because of continuous messages, I would like to turn around unnerved turn on the bird’s eye view (here, the word suggestion, among other things “bird’s eye view” offered) and must realize that I have not been heading east for some time, as planned, but towards the west. I, with the mental entry level of 10 meters Romanian garden fence in sweltering heat and fingers like steam ramming must have accidentally touched the screen and have made about 45 km west of Le Mans a stopover. Of course, I realize this only at the apex of this round trip. Well, if stupid, but then Right. The short but intense discussions that I have with me then, I wouldn´t like to reproduce here in the wording. This is only for me and me. Only so much, I’ve quite nicely said the opinion …….So back, march, march, to Le Mans. There I first of all take fuel, because the driver, this anal amoeba with driver’s license has just painted nearly 90 kilometers on the map, for nothing and nothing. Of course, the coachman knows the way. A shit he knows …… .. one moment, I discuss it again just with me through …… ..So, where was I? Yes, exactly, with the fuel. It’s almost 160 kilometers to Orleans, which could be scarce. Then to McPuke, because it’s noon and I am hungry and thirsty.
The scheduled arrival time shows me the TomTom at 16:30 clock. And I’m starting to wonder if, after 8 days of camping, I will not just put the aging body on white fresh linen instead of on gray polyester fabric. I find the Ibis chain in my research and decide that an arrival at 17 clock is actually too late for a campsite. In addition, all electronic devices (and yes, the older gentleman too) have to be loaded at the same time. If I think about it, the older man does not. He is already loaded. So off to Orleans. The drive there is as I imagined the drive through the French inland. Right because I had set the fastest route, and somewhat inconsequential, although the landscape repeatedly tried to gloss over this circumstance. But you do not always succeed. At 16:30, I’m just before Orleans and type in the address of the Ibis hotel. And ……. there are only .. 10 kilometers through the city center, at a perceived 30 degrees, in the rush hour! “Yes, the gentleman tracker, this Trapper and hunter for the unfortunate would not have his unwashed forefinger this morning ……… ..”I’m single. That must also have advantages! So shut up!
“Okay I got it.”
So another tormenting 25 minutes until I finally stand in front of the hotel lobby, book my room (by the way, in the evening 60 €, in the morning it would have been 48 €, the prices seem to be traded on the stock market), bring the most necessary to the room and then finally under the well-deserved shower.Feels good and tomorrow there is even breakfast from the buffet. What a luxury. Yes, that was the day.
Actually not as bad as you expected in the beginning right? And then I close with the good feeling. Besides, the Pastis is calling.
I’ll go see what he wants.
Stay tuned …….

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