Without a crime story, Mimi never goes to bed!

Raindrops are thundering, crashing, and pounding on the caravan roof, waking me from deep dreams of Alsatian carousels, where psychedelic mushrooms glow in all the colors of the rainbow at night. I know I'm increasingly boring you, but the monsoon-like downpours that are currently pouring down on us must not go unmentioned.

Thick black clouds are rolling over the nearby vineyards from which we escaped last night to avoid sinking into mud and slush. Huge droplets, as big as tennis balls, are splattering on the freshly polished caravan windows, making an infernal noise, forcing us to yell to understand each other.

We were already aware since yesterday that all flea markets in almost all of France are canceled today because of the forecasts. That’s why we are glad to have enjoyed the annual rummaging fun at the Cours de Genearal de Gaulle in Dijon on Saturday morning, featuring four kilometers of junk and treasures in splendid sunshine.

But now it's the end for the whole next week. Therefore, we also have to postpone the plan to drive the Route des Grands Crus in Burgundy. A precarious low pressure area is circling over France and won't budge.

On the still dry Saturday evening, we are parked in Morey-Saint-Denis in the spacious parking lot in the town center, making plans for the next travel days. There is a lovely view of the Vignoble de la Côte de Nuits. Of course, the best spots are already taken. A nearly seven-meter-long Chausson Flash motorhome has seized the front row, and Madame and Monsieur are cozying up on the park bench with an aperitif.

The German Pössl couple adopts French customs, occupies the second seat, and toasts to the sunset with a vin blanc. We have settled comfortably in the second row, slightly elevated, so we can oversee the entire scene besides the landscape. Although it annoys me a bit that the two vehicles are parked in a way that no one else can join the Bellevue.

Then Monsieur VW-Knaus rushes onto the lot, stops, takes a look, and parks his motorhome precisely with only a few centimeters distance next to the Chausson family. Particularly curious: the vehicle has no window for the delightful view. I am astonished and find it a bit - well - intrusive to maneuver so closely into the neighborhood. But maybe the couples know each other and have arranged to conclude the evening together?

Then Madame and Monsieur take their evening beer out of the fridge and make room on the bench with Monsieur Chausson. Madame Chausson is already preparing dinner, so the two newcomers can sit down. However, Monsieur is somewhat irritated and shifts to the very end of the bench. Now the VW-Knaus can also bring their little dog, an American Bulldog, onto the cozy seating furniture. Monsieur Chausson is now only barely hanging on, but he stands his ground and doesn't completely surrender the bench to the unwelcome invasion.

All four now enjoy the view silently before the heavy rain arrives. A silent battle for a public seating spot is fiercely waged, and I keenly observe who will end up losing out.

The bulldog slobbers all over its owner's Hawaiian shirt and leans curiously towards Monsieur Chausson. He ignores the approach attempt entirely, just as he steadfastly disregards the complete contact attempt of the VW-Knaus. Proudly, he raises his gaze toward the horizon, enjoys his beer, and valiantly defends his view spot.

Once again, I lose a bet that Monsieur VW-Knaus will sit on the lap of the now-returned Madame Chausson, for which he receives an angry jab from Monsieur Chausson, who subsequently gets bitten painfully in the leg by the bulldog. No, the VW-Knaus family eventually gives up; before the Saturday late night program, they still need to take their dog out for a walk.

I wonder if this is the stuff crime stories in the camper milieu are made of.

Either the Chaussons will take revenge on the VW-Knaus for their intrusive, impertinent approach and surreptitiously and treacherously release the gas that is feared throughout the community into their neighbors' ugly motorhome, abduct the dog, and demand an astronomically gigantic sum because they know that the devious couple is conducting unscrupulous speculative business by dishonest means.

Or the VW-Knaus family is an adventurous crime movie couple like Bonnie and Clyde, hopping from Park4Night spot to spot, cold-bloodedly robbing retired motorhome owners, brutally dispatching them, and stealing their millions-worth e-bikes until the nasty story goes completely awry and they plunge a truck full of precious bicycles into the Verdon Gorge at full speed.

What do you think? Personally, I prefer the second option. For now, we are escaping the rain southwards along the Autoroute du Soleil. Perhaps ideas will develop along the way when we see psychedelic mushrooms at the roadside...