
The sleepless nights were redundant. It could have been so different… but it was a no-tears exit from our pitch at Allevarde. No-one had parked next to us – so it was straight out over the two adjacent pitches and on our way!
We followed the glacial blue River Isère as we meandered down through the mountains. The steep-sided valleys widened, until they were able to cocoon Grenoble in a soaring, green amphitheatre, crowned with a halo of bright, white limestone.
We knew that we were in a city; pedestrians rushed along pavements, phones glued to their ears; impatient drivers cut in front of us or hooted impatiently when we didn’t move forward to block the intersections completely with our caravan, even though doing so would only add to the gridlock and chaos!Continue reading “A Trip Down Memory Lane”

