Miss MJ mentioned The Baked Bean Museum in her recent post comments .
Undoubtedly a fantastic day out , but brings to mind a bitter holiday
disappointment of recent years.
Against my better judgement I was talked into a weeks cycling holiday in the Dordogne region of France .
Travel was by Eurostar to Paris , then a four hour TGV to the Dordogne . Lets first deal with the TGV . You hear so much, oft repeated blether on how wonderful the French trains are . Well they are fast , I will give you that .However as we all know the french are firmly stuck in the 1970's porn flick school of decor (For god sake they floral wallpaper EVERYTHING including the backs of doors and the ceiling) . The train interior was ghastly , a medley of migraine inducing oranges and greens , lots of smoked glass and sticky fake leather seats . The air conditioning conked out as soon as we left Paris and the toilets overflowed in the middle of the Loire valley . We spent most of the journey firmly welded to the vinyl seats gagging in the stifling 'not so delicate hint of bowel' atmosphere.
Formidable ??? NON!!!!
The holiday itinerary was that you arrived and picked up your bikes , then each day you followed the planned cycle routes from hotel to hotel enjoying this unique holiday region and the company transport your luggage.
Sadly , It was steaming hot , the bikes were like something they found at the local dump , the hotels were uniformly dreadful and the cycle routes were obviously designed by some purist uptight vegan self flagellating miserablist . They avoided all tourist fleshpots(I was brought up in Margate for the love of god , Naff Tourist Fleshpots is what I live for) and pointlessly meandered up every damn hill in France on the pretext of visiting some dull as ditchwater church or award winning Village (Every frigging god forsaken dump in the Dordogne has The Most Beautiful Village in France award) . It was on the last day we realised you could actually cycle to your next hotel in about half an hour if you took the direct route , no 90 km slog ,no hills , no boring churches and plenty of decadent touristy crap to be enjoyed , I would have given my right arm for a glow in the dark Eifel Tower or a Diana The Huntress teatowel
Incidently every chateaux in France has a room where Diana of Poitier shagged a king or a prince.....Diana the Huntress indeed , the woman was a right royal slapperanyway (Piggies favourite word)
On about the third day of this purgatory I found a leaflet some poor soul had hidden down the back of the bed , advertising the wonders of
Walnut World .... The Best Walnut Themed Day Out In the WORLD.
Man I was transfixed , just imagine all that walnut themed FUN . I WAS GAGGING FOR IT and it was only 30 kilometers from where we were . After a sleepless night my fellow joy deprived cyclists and I set off in a fever of walnut related excitement.
Oh how we chatted and fantasised of the wonders awaiting us as We peddled through the broiling midday sun , slogged up ferocious hills and eventually arrived sweat soaked and exhausted at the shimmering pleasure seeking tourist Mecca that is Walnut World.......
And that dear reader is why I hate the French !