Published: 29.03.2023
Before we enter France, we make a stop in Müllheim in the evening.
The camper experience teaches us that tried and tested places need to be visited again and again. Just last night, we had to experience that a spot dear to our hearts was filled with construction vehicles of all sizes and strengths, overloaded with huge mountains of sand and earth, fenced off with construction fences, and not usable for us at night. It's annoying at 11:00 pm, especially when the heaviness of sleep hits with full force and an alternative has to be found quickly.
Luckily, everything is the same in Müllheim and we can stay. The forest floor on the hiking parking lot is covered with dark brown, rotten leaves, heavy with moisture from the continuous rain, sticking to our feet. Unpleasant, cold and wet weather drives us into the chateau. But first, Zappa has to remove the dog poop from his shoe that was lurking well camouflaged in the musty leaves and that he caught in full force. Brown, lethal stench right down to the sock!
Afterwards, we enjoy the relaxed evening at the lounge table with a delicious meal, and I slowly catch up on my sleep deficit of the past days.
The next morning, we are awakened by drumming raindrops that find a wonderful resonating body on the caravan roof. It's pouring rain again, raining cats and dogs, like the cow that pees, the sky is falling on our heads. Well, we only have a car ride on the program today anyway. After breakfast, we set off on our journey to France.
Unfortunately, there is an obstacle: only one of Zappa's shoes is left in the caravan. Where can the second one be? We search all the cracks, holes, gaps, closets, secret hiding places - nothing! The shoe has disappeared without a trace!
These crocs have a really bad karma on our tours. Not only once has the fox stolen the shoe, but so far we have managed to recover the precious footwear without calling the hunter, through joint efforts.
While I ponder once again why it is my fault that the shoe fell out of the vehicle, was stolen by the wild animal, and is now lost forever - the same shoe that was painstakingly cleaned of dog poop in the grooves yesterday - Zappa jumps, hops and limps in the pouring rain on one leg to the dry car.
I put on my rain jacket to search for the precious item in the puddles. My hope that the Croc is under the caravan is quickly dashed. Finding the black shoe in the wet, brown leaves is a hopeless endeavor in this lousy weather. For the first time, we give up a beloved shoe!
We enter the neighboring country with sad faces. No, Zappa doesn't want to buy other shoes, he still has plenty of spares at home. It will have to do, he declares in a heroic voice.
We make a stop in a daffodil forest, where only a handful of flowers can be picked per person. Unfortunately, they are not yet in full bloom, so the forest is probably a yellow sea of flowers.
In the evening, Zappa rummages around in the bathroom, it's shaving time. The small step has to be moved aside.
And we are amazed: a black Croc has attached itself at the bottom of the step! I - of course! - removed the step from the bathroom in the morning to take a shower and apparently stepped on the shoe. It simply got stuck and hid itself exceptionally well. The joy is now great!
Especially because thrifty Zappa didn't throw away the right shoe, because the rubber stuff is certainly still useful for something! How lucky that I didn't insist on the trash can, but then I could be blamed again...