Camping alone

The next day, after breakfast of coffee, bread, Mirabelle plums and homemade jams (peach, rhubarb, orange marmalade, confiture de mures and fleur de pissenlit) I’d changed my mind and decided that I would kick myself later on if I didn’t find a bed to sleep in which was actually in the town of Xertigny.

Joel drove me to the only hotel available. “Completement, full,” he said.

He dropped me at the tourist office (yes, there is actually one) to see if they knew of somewhere I could stay for the night. I said goodbye to Joel, not before he reminded me with a grin that “Rasey is Xertigny.”

Beatrice was at a loss. She made a few phone calls but none was successful.

“Pastor? Cure?” I asked, thinking that maybe the local priest would have a place for me to stay. Nothing.

“Gandamare?” Beatrice suggested. It was worth a shot. Maybe I could crash in one of the cells for the night.

After a demonstration with handcuffs I managed to figure out that it was against the law to place innocent tourists behind bars. But the police officer I spoke with, Jerome, did call the mayor for me to see if there were any other options for me. 

“There is utt,” Jerome said. “No key, but…” he used arm gestures to tell me that there was a roof. Great! That would be fine. It was one kilometer away. We set off in Jerome’s car but a barrier across the pathway through the trees prevented us from getting very far on four wheels. I put on my backpack and Jerome pointed me in the right direction to La Faisonderie.

So having no key is okay but what Jerome forgot to mention was the fact that my shelter for the evening didn’t have four walls, either. All of the doors to the inside were locked. I’d have to sleep outside in the patio area. Never mind, after my recent expeditions with Bernd, it’d be a piece of cake. At least there was an outhouse I could use instead of squatting in the bushes getting my butt stung or scratch by goodness knows what.

I hid my bags behind a tree and walked back down the pathway to the supermarket. In addition to wine, cheese, bread and ham, I picked up 40 tea lights. Back at the utt I lit a fire in one of the barbeque troughs available for picnickers, laid out my sleeping bag and waited for nightfall to close in.

The fire hissed, grasshoppers chirped, and around 0230 hours a creature with a really scarey screech woke me.

Camping out with a crazy friend is one thing but sleeping out under the stars by myself is another matter entirely. I did it, which is great, but not sure it’s something I want to do on a regular basis.

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