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11/06/2010
Issue 20

Le Périphérique welcome to heck

With the exception of my first season and "the Fancy years" I've always driven to and from resort. Most of the time in fine pieces of fast German automotive machinery. In recent times the journey is now done in a reliable, if not so fast, Toyota 4x4. In all cases the five hundred mile journey from Calais to Courchevel via Reims and Dijon is, compared to M20, like driving on a billiard table which goes to show what happens when their maintenance is paid for by tolls. But I digress. The subject this week are the roads I don't usually drive. And that brings me to the Paris’ ring road called the Boulevard Périphérique or should I describe it as the bastard son if the M25 got drunk and did the nasty with the Gallic equivalent of the north circular road.

After experiencing it for the first time I can truly say that the only good thing, like so many things in France, is the slightly sexy continental name. For over ten years I have steered well clear of Paris and it’s roads as I traveled from Calais to Dijon. Until, ominously, this year. While driving back from Courchevel with my trusty Kaluma chef/navigator dozing in the passenger seat I decided not to turn right at Dijon and instead against every sensible fibre of my being head up the A6 towards Paris. As I got closer and closer I tried to convince myself that it would be as easy as driving the wrong way around the M25. Oh how wrong I was…

Traveling from the A6 to the A1 meant driving almost ½ the way around Paris. From the 6 o'clock position to the 1 o'clock position on a clock. As it started everything went well, clear signs and empty roads until my navigator told me to take the next exit. To which I replied “but I want to stay on the ring road”. After a little hesitation I took the exit only to find it actually took me back onto the ring road. After consulting a map it turns out the ring road isn’t made up on 1 piece of tarmac like the old 25 but seperate stretches, some going vertical and some horizontal, all roughly joined together. Anyway after repeating this a couple of time I got over the initial shock and thought I might actually get around this unscathed. That is until the signposts disappeared and I was given the option of taking the left turning or the right. To make a long story shorter I took the wrong turning and before you knew it I was driving through the suburbs at the dead of night desperately looking for any road sign that pointed towards the autoroute. After 15 minutes, a flash from a speed camera, (thank you liberating 90 euros from my account for going 55 in a 50 zone) we finally found a diversion sign with a motorway designation and after another 10 minutes a couple of roundabouts we were heading towards signs for CdG airport the A1 and thankfully finally away from Paris.

The editor

I'm spending an inordinate time everyday fiddling with my beard
Lisa Giles makes a great lasagne and chocolate cake.
there is no mute button on children.

New look web site

Bit of a spring clean of the old web site including a new front page, a partners page and an expanded online store. Other pages have been cleaned up making navigation easier.