From Mould to Midnight Madness: A Road Trip Like No Other

Two horses bolting, a screaming man, and a faceless figure in a pink hoodie, it wasn’t a nightmare, just another chapter of our road trip through Spain via France.

It’s Sunday, November 17th. We started this wild ride back on the 13th, and honestly, I’ve lost track of time. Days blur together when you’re ping-ponging between crumbling motels, ghost towns, and uncooked chicken dinners.

Elayne and I kicked things off on a DFDS ferry from Dover to Calais. France welcomed us with its usual je ne sais quoi, which, in our case, meant a grim B&B in Rouen. The ceiling was decorated with mould, a masterpiece of decay, and the bathroom had a gap under the door wide enough for who-knows-what to crawl through. “A cozy start,” I said. Elayne just gave me that look. You know the one.

From there, we made it to Chartres, a city whose cathedral is both stunning and terrifying. The stained glass seemed alive, pulsating with an energy that defied logic. Elayne didn’t feel it, but I swear those walls whispered things, things you’re not supposed to hear. At least the locals were nice. I asked one woman to take her photo, and her warm smile felt like a lifeline in that…