Tuesday 22nd July 2026

Time to head further south.

I suppose, at this moment, I should point out we have messed up the hotels, and so face a long leg on Tuesday, then double back 90 minutes on Friday, before leapfrogging further south on Sunday.

Mistakes happen, I guess.

So, we sleep in to nearly half six, get dressed and go down for breakfast, which was slightly disappointing again, though the coffee pretty good.

Back to the room to pack, the load the car in two runs, so that by quarter to eight, we were ready to go.

Also, the ladies in the mobile phone shop sold us a roaming pay as you go cim that was only suitable for the UK, so that in less than a day, apparently, we had burned through £50 worth of data.

Mainly on Maps and Merlin.

This we were to discover through the day when neither of our phones would make or receive calls, or access the internet and Maps, which was pretty important.

We made our way through the city, and back onto the motorway, turning south. It was cool and cloudy, though it would get warmer and sunnier later, and temperatures would reach 31.

Not much to report really. Once through the tolls, the traffic was light, so we made our way 100 miles east to Reims, then turn south through the vine-laden wine region of Champagne. I saw the hill from which, at dusk some twenty months ago, I looked upon the Grande Cru grapes, now we sped past.

We were going this way, rather than vial the Paris ringroad because of the Paris ringroad, in decades past, this would be jammed with traffic at all hours, so we thought going east and then south would be quieter, and meant we could call in at Troyes for lunch and a wander, maybe look round the cathedral.

Driving into a new city is a worrying time, though Troyes is a small city, and at eleven or just gone, it was quiet enough.

We found the parking house near the cathedral, and went down and down until we found a space that others had left enough room either side to get the car into. It felt like we were halfway to the centre of the earth.

Up in the lift, and out into the bright sunshine, with the cathedral towering above us.

We walk round it, each side having grand doors, but all locked, until we came to the west end, a small wicket door was open.

Our excuse for this was the at the church seemed almost square, so hard to judge which side was which.

Inside it was fairly plain, with pews though, which is always nice.

A few memorials on the walls, though there were many alabaster panels of saints, some which were painted.

I photographed the glass with the big lens, though most panels were not as old as appeared, though looked spectacular.

In half an hour I was done, it was midday and thoughts turned to lunch.

The city is a maze of mediaeval lanes, alleyways, all lined with timber-framed houses, some alleys so narrow that the roofs of buildings either side toughed to make a tunnel.

There were dozens of places offering lunch, we chose one named after St Jean, though they didn't do BBQ.

Too soon?

We choose one and order a sharing charcuterie board, followed by a main course. I had a salad.

And while we ate and drank we watched the world go by, mainly American tourists.

It really was most splendid.

And this news just in:

The large churchy building beside the car park called "Cathedral", is not the actual cathedral.

Which means, as I screwed up the hotel bookings, we can go back to the city on Friday.

But back to Wednesday.

We left the city and headed south, the motorway now busier, and climbing to over 1400 feet. The cool morning had been replaced with a hot and humid afternoon, which peaked in early evening at 32 degrees.

We cruised at 70 for the most part, and enjoyed the drive, even as the traffic grew heavier.

We turned off and into our next stop, the city of Chalon-sur-Saône.

Our hotel was on the main road into the city, another Ibis, but this an older building, all tired inside.

We checked in and were given a small room, though as everything we needed, except space. Obviously.

For the evening, we drove over the intersection to a BBQ chain place, which sounded like it would be good, but wasn't. Even the 1664 was almost flat.

At least it was only a two minute drive back to the hotel, where we would stare at the ceiling until we grew tired.

Monday 21st July 2026

Amiens, France.

We woke after close to ten hours sleep.

Ten.

Hours.

Life seemed better. And there was breakfast that was going to be prepared for us, with no washing up afterwards.

That's living alright.

Outside it looked warm already. Time would tell.

We went down for breakfast, there was fruit, bready stuff, croissants, coffee, Nutella. All the major food groups.

We filled our boots, by which time it was just after eight. And the cathedral opened at half seven.

We walked outside to the car, and in the shade of the hotel it was lovely and cool, but wouldn't stay that way for long.

We programmed a parking house nearby, I fired up the horses in the car, and we lurched off towards the city centre.

For a Monday morning, traffic was light, so we cruised carefully into the centre, turning down a side road, then down the ramp to the underground parking house.

Whether we would find our way back again after our visit and lunch would be another matter.

We had seen the cathedral, the largest by volume in France, apparently., on the way into the centre. To say it towered over the surrounding area would be something of an understatement.

But once we parked, walked up the the street level, and at the next junction we looked to the left and there was the roof of the cathedral.

We'd go that way.

Five minutes later, after walking down an alley paved with white marble, we came to the south-west corner of the church.

Entrance by the south door, a sign seemed to be suggesting.

We walked along the southside, and there was an open door. We went in.

Inside was a space at least as large as St Paul's in London, but untouched by puritans or time, A Baroque pulpit, covered in gold leaf caught the eye.

I took a shot, and a guy came over to engage me in conversation. As my French is below middle school standard, and his English was little better, but he seemed to be suggesting that I was taking my photos wrong.

I said thanks, tried to explain the hand-held night-shooting mode, but went over his head.

He came back, and showed me a video of his work. Not sure if he was trying to get me to employ him to take shots.

I explained I had some 50,000 pictures of churches, and I really did know what what I was doing.

When he came back a third time, I guess I became rude. As ride as you can be in fractured Franglais.

He walked off.

Phew.

I went round snapping the scenes, chapels and details, then switched to the big lens for more details and the stained glass windows.

Meanwhile, at nine, Mass began, and the cathedral was filled with the harmonised voices of the choir, then the benediction read out.

Amen.

Amiens, and the Valley of the Somme, was the centre of the First World War battle of the same name, so the cathedral has memorials to nations and battalions that sacrificed themselves in the defence of the city and area.

There is little evidence of the war now, other than the occasional memorial, the city is rebuilt and vibrant.

We walked back outside, into the bright sunshine, and temperatures were some ten degrees higher than went we entered.

Next on the list were the "floating gardens" of Les Hortillonnages. Of which we had no idea what they were, but was high on the top rated attractions in the city.

We walked down from the butte that the cathedral straddles, and came across a small stream, running in the lea of the cathedral. On the other was a row of houses with shops in their ground floors, and behind all had identical metal spiral staircases.

The road in front was filled with fast food joints, discotheques, and other shops, all closed at half eleven, though some stayed open until 05:00.

On the left a road opened up, and there over the main road was the Somme river, also lined with restaurants, bars, and shops. The maps app said to carry on, so we did.

We crossed the river beside another main road, then the way was down a steep curving road to the riverbanks. On the side was a brasserie, where we called in for a cold drink. And then a beer.

We went back out and down to the riverbank, walking along hoping to see an entrance. We did find it, but turns out the public part doesn't open until one, and it was too hot to wait.

We explored further along, where there was a mixture of houses, summer houses and allotments, all on small islands separated with by ditches or minor stretches of the river.

It was all very nice, and peaceful despite being only a short walk from the city centre. But all private.

We sat and watched the wildlife: dragonflies, damselflies, butterflies and birds, while a couple of boats chugged by.

Thoughts turned to lunch, so we walked back towards the cathedral, stopping for a drink at the same brasserie, then along the river where we took a shaded table at a café, and ordered pork something. Which came with a very thin carrot, some kind of root vegetable (half of) and a sauce.

It was so pleasant sitting and eating watching the world go by, we had dessert and a coffee.

Back to the cathedral to take shots of the statues and triple doors at the west end, by which time it was hot indeed, so we made our way back to the parking garage, paid the fee and drove back to street level.

Our journey back to the hotel wasn't helped by a failure of the net, and the road the hotel is on is so new the car's sat nav didn't have it listed. However, nearby was Rue de Christ, which we remembered the name of, so programmed that in, which got us withing a mile of the hotel, at which point the internet came back and we found our way back.

Before going to the room, we went over the road to the corner store to buy beer, mile, sandwiches and crips, so we would not go down to eat.

And finally up the the air conditioned coolness of the room, where i cracked open the family sized bottle of Le Chouffe as I reviewed my shots from the day.

Sunday 19th July 2026

And so to our last full day in England for about a month.

Being a Sunday that meant phys, of course. But it would have been easy not to do it, but we did.

Jools slept through the alarm, as did I, of course, so we rose at six, then did our stuff and drank coffee before leaving the house at five to seven.

As there was a swimming gala on, again, the pool was closed, so there was just three cars in the car park. We joined them, went in and up the stairs to the gym and di our session.

Another hot and humid session, and another thirty five minutes done.

As we will be in either France or Spain the next few weeks, we decided to go to Chaplin's for breakfast, so down Castle Hill and the Castle into town, parking behind the church, and being at their door as it opened at eight.

We had the usual, mine with added fried bread.

It was too much, really, but we wouldn't eat again until the evening.

Back home along Townwall Street and up Jubilee Way, both of which had no traffic at all, though a P&O ferry was just disgorging traffic, so we powered up the hill just in time.

We both have showers, then the last washing down so that we have lots of clothes for the trip. We sit and listen to Huey on the radio, until it was midday and time for Le Tour.

The Tour would reach the Alps by the end of the day, until then there was a punishing course of 180km up and down, ever-increasingly steeper hills.

On the sharp bend before the final climb, Jonas Vingegaard misjudged the corner, hit a kerb and went down on his shoulder breaking his collarbone. Just as his team were mustering for an assault on the hill and launching Jonas to possibly win.

We'll never know.

Supper was Caprese and salad, as we try to use up all the fresh food in the fridge.

And then to the World Cup Final: Spain v Argentina, which started out well, then Argentina retreated into their back third and encouraged Spain to try to score.

Again the referee was over-lenient, and failed to book Argentine players for fouls.

Fernández was sent off for a second yellow, which should have been a red in its own right, and then it was a matter of whether Spain could score.

It went to extra time, and in the first minute of the second period, Ferran Torres volleyed in to win the game and cup.

At the end, Argentine players threw punches as Spain celebrated.

Best team won.

Saturday 18th July 2026

We have reached the weekend.

A weekend that will bring the 103rd and 104th and final games of the 2026 World Cup, England to play France, though not in the final.

So it goes.

And its the last two days at home before our grand European road trip, which will begin at about half ten Monday morning, and I hope to post blogs each day as we go.

I hope.

I slept in until six, when the alarm brought me from having lunch at the chicken factory where I was on some sort of course. A reminder that I left the chicken factory in September 1990, and due to an accident hadn't worked there after 18th June, so some 36 years ago.

We feed the cats, have coffee, then drive to the sports centre after checking the traffic for jams leading to the port.

All was clear.

Not many at the gym, so we get our bikes, and begin the session.

Thirty five minutes later we were done, drive to Tesco for a few supplies to last the weekend, and back home.

Brews.

Whilst sitting on the patio with Scully, the sun already warm, but not too warm. Just pleasant.

I had received a request if I could show a chap the Violet helleborines at Barham?

As they were not open on Monday, I agreed as I could get my shots too of the penultimate Kent species, so arranged to meet Jonathon at nine under the old railway bridge.

We both arrived at the same time, he got in our car and I drove us both to the parking area, and we chatted orchids as we drove.

Up the usual path beside the wood. The air still, and light green-filtered through the thick beech canopy.

It is a magical place, still, and a million miles and a hundred years from the modern world or motorways and tik tok.

We are met by a local lady walking her two dogs. She said she only saw cyclists and orchidists in the wood. I confirmed we were the latter as we had no bikes, but had cameras!

She was happy that there was unseen nature here on her doorstep, though the two hounds were impatient to get going again.

We walked up the down, along the track further, until we came to the arrow I had made last week with two branches, we went into the wood, and a few yards away from one trunk were three spikes, the one partially open now fully out.

Although one spike had most of its flowers upside down, as the spike was so densely populated that the flowers were unable to rotate, so appeared upside down.

I thought I could remember where the largest of the clumps were, but no matter how hard I looked, walking back and forth, I couldn't find them. So having found two clumps, we decided that we were happy with that, and walked back to the car.

On the way back to the bridge, we stop off so I could show him the Yellow birdsnests.

I explained that a Ghost orchid would little different from a Yellow birdsnest, and with a first scan of your eyes, the small yellow spikes were almost invisible.

I dropped him off, then drove home in the thick port traffic, turning off and going through Coldred and both East and West Langdon before arriving home at half eleven.

Time for a brew before it was time to sit down and watch the latest, 13th, stage of Le Tour, as they peddle closer and closer to The Alps.

The stage took most of the afternoon to play out, with the expected result of Tadej Pogačar breaking away and winning again.

We had supper, then listened to the funk and soul show, while I pondered whether to sit up and watch the England v France 3rd play play off.

In the end I decide not to, so went to bed at half eight, so slept through the game, the result of which I wouldn't find out until the morning.

Friday 17th July 2026

In our memories, summers were long, golden, and filled with singing birds and fluttering butterflies.

Do those days exist now?

Bird song, sadly, as scarce now. Even the dawn chorus is muted, except in spring when the birds have other thigs on their minds.

Spring is poor in east Kent for butterflies, but come summer and those season species emerge, as well as second broods of others, the air can still be filled with flutterbies.

The week has reached Friday, and that means bins, and yoga for Jools, and a day off phys for me.

And maybe a lay in!

With no football to watch the evening before, and asleep before nine, I heard Jools get up at five, but nodded off again until nearly six. I make that nine hours, which was pretty good for high summer.

If that is what this is.

So, I get up, get dressed and find a coffee waiting for me. After drinking that, I put out the two bins and consider my day.

I do some stuff in the garden. I water the pot plants and tomatoes, though the latter will ripen when we're away and will wither before then as there'll be no one to water them.

I fill up the wildlife pond, though see no frogs or newts.

After breakfast, as it was the first day of the "Big Butterfly Count", I spent fifteen minutes counting, and see some 22 Gatekeepers, 5 Common Blues, 5 Large whites and a Wall brown.

Not bad.

I sit and look at our garden, butterflies, bees and beetles all busy collecting nectar and spreading pollen. Mulder and Scully settle down at my feet to snooze.

Jools had gone to her knit and natter group, I thought of going to Tesco for the few things we had forgotten, but thought to leave it to Saturday morning.

Le Tour began at midday. The prologue, then the depart and then the race.

Le Tour is heading east now towards the final week and The Alps, so this was the last semi-flat stage for a while, and featured a breakaway for nearly forty riders. The countryside, villages and towns slid by. I tried to stay awake.

I come second in the music quiz, one of only six to guess the correct answer. Now, will I be able to take part from that France next week? We shall see.

And after supper, early to bed at half eight for some much-needed sleep.

It was nearly dark by nine.

Thursday 16th July 2026

The weeks still rattle by, and make it even more manic, we are going away in four days.

Although most preparations are done, there will be the great cat round up on Monday morning before we can load up the car and leave.

It would be easy to let phys slip this week, what with it being so hot and humid. I feel bad enough not doing a full forty minutes, doing just thirty five these days.

But upon our return, we shall get back on the straight and narrow, and do even more than before.

And this day came after England's exit from the World Cup. As always with England, the media and fans, expectations were high, too high to be met. And in the final quarter on Wednesday, England were just outplayed and too passive.

But the sun rose still Thursday morning, and life is still good.

I did not want to get up at five to go to the gym, but did. Cats were fed, coffee made, and we were five minutes late leaving the house, so that the centre was open when we arrived. We went up to the gym and got to work on the bikes.

The air con in the gym is great, except in the corners, which is where the two bikes are, so it is warm even before you begin to turn the peddles.

We stood outside for ten minutes to cool down, then drove to Tesco for a few things and to fill up the car. Back home for a brew and breakfast.

Time for a shower, shave and change of clothes, before out again, this time to Deal to get some medical supplies for the trip, then at midday go to the chippy for lunch.

We will be away for nearly four weeks, so need stuff to cover all bases, including factor 50 sun block as we'll be at over 2,000m at times, then in Spain which could be hotter than the surface of the sun.

In a break from the usual, I have cod instead of skate, which is what I fancied for a change.

The shop soon filled up, but we had our table in the corner so we could people watch both inside and out.

The town was filling up, as to be expected for a seasidey town in July, so we walk back to the car and drive home. Skipping an ice cream.

Just be coincidence, Le Tour started a few minutes before we got home, so with a fresh brew I sat down to watch, and try to stay awake.

Another lightning quick stage, with a bunch finish and a huge crash in the last 500m.

Phew.

For the evening, we had tickets for a show: Arthur Smith and Phil Nice at the Aster.

It was a pleasant evening for a drive along to coast through Walmer and into Deal. The Just Reproach was full, so we skip a swifter and walk round to the theatre, and after showing our tickets, we go to the bar for a quick drink.

Arthur and Phil were of the generation before the 80s alternative comedy, so started in a review when there wasn't really a Fringe", they then formed a double act, had a couple of TV series where they did spoof travel and history shows, decades ahead of the curve, then split up at the end of the 80s.

The show was a muse on age and growing old. rowing old in an ever changing world, and the difficulties in maintaining friendships. It was pretty good.

But the air con had been switched off, so that by the interval it was like a swamp, so I stood outside and watched the boy-racers tear up and down the short street, impressing the nesting pigeons.

There was a brief Q&A, then all over, we walked back to the car and home.

Time for a night cap, and then to bed.

Thomas Tuchel: what now

Do I think Thomas Tuchel should be replaced?

If the answer is yes, then the next question would be, who would you put in his place?

There is a certain Pep who has no job at the moment, though he may want some time off after his decade at Citeh.

As I have remarked before, its not as though England appoint the same kind of manager. Over the years they have tried just about everything, and the one who worked was the guy promoted from coaching the U21 side.

Thomas Tuchel had a different approach to Southgate, with the expectations that the German's approach would result in England being able to cope with the pressures of leading big games and seeing them out to win.

That did not happen.

I guess my point is that although results have improved, and England in most tournaments get at least to the quarter finals, what they do when they get there ends up with the same results: play well then retreat further and further back.

And furthermore, Tuchel seems to be suggesting that the players didn't follow his game plan. And yet it was Tuchel who made those poorly thought out substitutions, which meant England would really struggle to mount attacks if Argentina levelled in the closing stages.

There is to be a review, and the BBC is reporting that players are unhappy with the negative tactics Tuchel employed. So it is possible that a few months after signing a contract extension, he may be gone.

Or not.