On Wednesday morning, we went to the airport with the rest of the group. While they checked in for their flight, we headed for the rental car desk to pick up our vehicle. To make a long story short, after some mechanical difficulties with two vehicles, getting to know some of the road crew members on the A6, two rides in a tow truck, sitting in the grungy tow company office while waiting for a taxi to take us back to Avis at the airport, and some less than helpful rental car agents, the useful part of the day had pretty much evaporated.
Here's Lloyd, on the A6 at the junction with the A86 (as we later found out). Our situation was complicated by the fact that there was no visible signage where we stopped the second time, so trying to communicate our whereabouts to the local police (the only entity permitted to dispatch a tow truck) was less than entertaining. In both instances, after a good long wait, a road maintenance vehicle stopped to see what the problem was and radioed our location to the police.
Ann Marie and Richard decided this was more excitement than they had bargained for, so they taxied back to the airport, changed their flight, spent the night at an airport hotel, and went home the next day.
Lloyd and I returned to the airport for vehicle number three, a luxury Peugot that Lloyd thoroughly enjoyed driving for the rest of our visit. It was more car than we would have selected given a choice, but there was no choice at that point. By the time we got the cars sorted out, it was evening. We missed our planned visits to Chartres and Blois. We, too, spent the night in an airport hotel, then set out for Dijon the next morning.
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