An interesting experience, fuelling the RV. For one thing, it has to be a fuel station that is wide enough between rows of pumps and ideally, one which is drive-through. This one was except that the drive through bit was rather on the narrow side, although there was an open gate just at the back of us which would take us straight back onto the road. So I explained to the nice lady on the till that this is how we would leave and that I would come and pay her when we had filled up, rather than attempt to squeeze past her kiosk and she readily understood the logic of that.
It's amusing to watch people's reactions to this beast of the road. Some squint at it sideways, pretending that they are not really looking at all, while others apparently ignore it completely, which does make one wonder about the results of their last field vision test, and some just gaze open-mouthed. You can almost lip read their thoughts.
"What do 'e think he'm doing bringin' that thing down they narrow roads, then?" (Imagine the broad Bristolian accent if you will.)
Then there was the young lady who pulled up right behind us just as Keith was about to reverse. I signalled to her that we needed to back out and she looked at me in disbelief, before reluctantly backing her car about two feet. Eventually, the penny dropped and she reversed some more and drove over to the next row of pumps, possibly helped in her decision by Keith revving the engine as if he intended to gently edge her out of the way if she didn't move quick sharp.
All good fun!
Tomorrow, we're off back to France and Giles is looking after the house and - I hope - keeping my potatoes and tomatoes watered, if the rain doesn't do it for him.