Verdun to Labry and then Metz

I awoke this morning in the most dilapidated surroundings I have seen since I foolishly booked my family into a Communist-era holiday cabin in Mazuria in 1993. I shall spare you the details, gentle reader, and simply remember how grateful I was to have somewhere to be last night after a stressful day. My room was, in hotel industry jargon, “tired” (I might say exhausted). It was a third floor (US fourth floor) walk up, but had a magnificent view of a town hall far too grand for a little town with no taxis. 

The AA was scheduled to call me by 1030 to report what the workshop had to say about Speranza. After coffee and croissants, I spoke to Babička in Prague to let her know my situation then waited as patiently as my natural disposition permits for a call I did not expect to receive. I called them when they didn’t call me and after holding for 15 minutes eventually spoke to a nice young Frenchman who said he would call the garage.

It’s as well I didn’t manage to get there yesterday to pick up my bags as it turned out the car was not even there yet. It’s expected by 3pm and then they will look at it. Realistically this means there’s no chance of a fix until Monday, so I asked them to book me an hotel near the garage to be at hand to pick her up when she’s ready. I was clearly in for a weekend in rural France. Worse things have happened to a chap. All this was eating into my planned week in Prague but I could still hope to rendezvous with Babička and continue with the tour from there  

The issue with taxis remained the same this morning. Uber failed. A local taxi with online reservations said its site was undergoing maintenance and referred me to Uber. So I resorted to asking my hotel to call a cab the old-fashioned way. Finally this worked and by noon I was en route to the village of Labry, which made sleepy Verdun seem a metropolis.

The garage was closed for lunch and there was no sign of Speranza. I adjourned to a nearby bar-tabac to wait. This was real old school. No food and lots of tobacco smoke to mask my dressed-yesterday scent. It might almost be 1970 where I sat and waited, were it not for the price of the biere! To be honest, I don’t remember what I was paying for beer in 1970, but by London standards the two I had were cheap at €5 the pair! 

As I nursed my beers, a nice French lady called from the AA. She said there were no hotels in Labry and was worried about me being isolated all weekend. She proposed an hotel in Metz, where at least I could explore on foot. This would take me, if not my car, closer to Germany and provide me with a weekend in a town I’ve never visited. I could recover my camera with the rest of my baggage and do some photography as planned — just not in the intended city. She then texted confirmation of my reservation at the Hotel du Théatre, eight hundred yards from the famous cathedral.

I also heard from friends in Prague proposing lunch on Wednesday. I updated them on my situation and proposed Friday instead. 

When the garage opened the car had still not arrived. I explained my plan to recover my bags and settled down with a sandwich jambon I’d bought from the boulangerie across the road. In buying it, I’d had one of those ultra-polite French conversations that makes one wonder where the English reputation for good manners ever came from. The nice lady’s sincere good wishes for my enjoyment of my simple lunch  contributed a lot to said enjoyment. As did the concern of the lady receptionist at the workshop who plied me with coffee and water while I waited, reading “Les reves de tractor girl” in a 2012 edition of Gazoline magazine.

If you think I’m nuts driving an old Ferrari to Prague, her epic drive from Holland to the South Pole via Eastern Europe and Africa should bring me back into the ranks of the (relatively) sane. At the time of the article she was still en route but I checked her out on Wikipedia and she made it! Inspiring. She did it as “performance art” and to raise money for a charity.

Speranza duly arrived in the care of the charming rascal who’d recovered us yesterday and then dropped me off in Verdun knowing full well I should have brought my bags. I bade him a cheery au revoir and then corrected myself to “adieu”. This was a reasonably successful joke in French apparently as everyone laughed.

The problem is not as serious as it might have been. Three bearings on the alternator had fused and seized throwing off the drive belt. It was a fix they could easily manage. I found it difficult to discuss timing with them. As always difficult questions required better French! I called the AA and after waiting 20 minutes got them to translate. For an extra €50 I could accelerate the parts delivery from two weeks to two days. She could then be fixed and back on the road by Thursday, allowing me to make it to Prague by Friday evening – just in time to pick up Babička and set off on the second phase of the tour together on Saturday. So instead of a week photographing Prague, which I have done before, I shall have a week photographing Metz, which I haven’t. Not so bad really.

This plan agreed and the extra €50 authorised, I summoned an Uber to take me to Metz. By 5pm, I was in my room with all my luggage. Once this blog post is done, I shall be taking advantage of the rather nice bathroom in my hotel to freshen up.

The TrackMyTour update is here if you’re interested.