A wild ride

17.01.23 Villars-les-Dombes - La Jonquera: You won't believe it, but last night I actually dreamed of blue gas tank caps. This image kept appearing before me: the blue gas tank cap in my hand. When the alarm clock rang at 8 o'clock, I was almost relieved. Morning routine, making breakfast at the same time - I could almost forget about my faux pas from yesterday for a few minutes. But then the phone rang. Markus, my brother-in-law. We don't talk on the phone often, so I was ecstatic to hear his voice. He said he's been diligently reading my blog and he felt terrible about my mishap from yesterday - there it was again! Diesel is a disaster. You can never get rid of the smell. Replacing the tank would be the only solution. He phrased it more charmingly and considerately, but the effect was the same.

As fate would have it, there was a knock on my door. It was Ricci. "We're all going to the gas station together now," he said. "For practice. Meeting point in five minutes." I hadn't had breakfast and was only halfway dressed. I said goodbye to Markus and thanked him for his call.

The first gas station we went to was out of diesel. We had better luck at the second one. I tried to memorize the black gas cap in my hand very precisely - as the nocturnal counterpart to the blue one - and took a deep breath after everything went smoothly. Afterwards, we went to Aldi for groceries, and that's when I took my chance and approached Ricci. "Hey, my brother-in-law says we'll never be able to get rid of the diesel smell from the tank." I could see his wheels turning. The baguettes, chocolate croissants, and pretzel sticks between us suddenly lost their appeal. "You're not serious, are you?" he finally blurted out, not waiting for an answer, "Tell your brother-in-law greetings from me, he's mistaken. It worked wonderfully for me and it will for you too. Let me take care of that," he said, turned around, and left. A short time later, when I was on my way to the cash register, Ricci suddenly stood in front of me and silently handed me a box. I looked inside and couldn't help but smile: vinegar. I knew good old Ricci wouldn't let that go unanswered...

Afterwards, we headed towards Lyon to a service station where we could empty our gray and black water tanks and I could empty my tank with Pril water and refill it with vinegar water. Ricci himself checked to make sure the mixture was correct. Then we headed south on the A7, straight towards Lyon. Well... "straight" might not be quite accurate. Ricci missed the highway entrance and led us - this time "straight" might be more appropriate - into the industrial area of Lyon, past container ports, truck parking lots, and junkyards. Only a thick, sturdy red and white barrier could convince him that it was the wrong way. We had to turn around. Over the radio, we heard our tour guide curse: "That damn navigation system!"

Despite this extraordinary sightseeing tour, we reached our destination in La Jonquera. That was a total of 550 kilometers. But the wild ride through rain, wind, and a sea of trucks was worth it: we were in Spain! Ralph from Essen was already waiting for us here, another participant we could greet at our campground. We ended the evening with tapas and beer. On the way home, Ricci didn't say much. "We have to put in Pril again tomorrow," I heard him mutter in his silver-gray mustache...