Before leaving Camping St Claire, we have a busy morning:
Me: Empty waste water, service toilet, half fill fresh water tank,
Kathleen: do her hair
I decide, in a moment of madness to set both satnavs for our destination. So, I have three women telling me what to do at every junction, roundabout and motorway exit, ie two satnavs plus Kathleen.
Actually, they turn out to be in remarkable harmony.
.
For almost the whole journey, the road is good and the traffic is light to almost none existent.
At one of the sets of traffic lights we spot this litter lout, see the fag packet being thrown out of the left hand side window.
I suppose it goes to show anti-social, thoughtless people are everywhere you go.
We are a little anxious about about driving so close into Central Paris, in the campervan, but, it turns out the approach to Maisons Lafitte is not difficult at all, apart from the last half mile or so, which is through narrow streets, lined with parked cars.
It is well signposted, until, we are confronted with a diversion, where some workmen are busy cutting a tree down, so, we must wend our way through a few even narrower streets, to enter Maisons Laffite International.
Maisons Lafitte is quite a large campsite, on an island in the river Seine.
As "city" campsites go, in our experience, it is remarkably well kept.
It is relatively quiet at this time f year, which is how we like it.
Reception staff are helpful and friendly, Kathleen emerges not only with details of nearest church and mass times, details of how to get to the nearest RER station, but, also significant details of the receptionists private life and her ambitions to become as school teacher. All of that information was gathered without infringing the Human Rights Act or the Geneva Convention.
The helpful receptionist, allocates us a spot near Brian and Linda's prebooked pitch, although they have not yet arrived.
We have a river view from the van, with barges and pleasure craft sailing past at regular intervals.
Brian and Linda are delayed, they are approaching from the South (Dijon) and have got themselves onto a stretch of toll motorway, with height barriers on the exits.
Eventually they escape the motorway and arrive via Versailles.
Brian provides the wine, Kathleen, rustles up food for all, and, an evening of eating and drinking follows.
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