400 kilometers at 80 miles per hour

# 3 Saint-Chely-d'Apcher

Please don't ask me how to pronounce this place. How far is it to Sant Schellidapp... uh Sin Chilly de Abi... well, you know. No, I don't know. And I don't know how many times I've tried to avoid, ignore, or overhear this question today. When we finally arrived around 7 PM, I turned the ignition key and reached for my phone. What does language expert Dr. Google say? So Schelie Dapsche. That's how this town of 4,000 souls is pronounced. I'm sure no one will ask me about it for the rest of my life, but I'm almost certain I'll never forget it...

Also the Frenchman who spent the night in his vintage motorhome next to us in the parking lot in Belfort. He had a funny dog, a mix that was probably created by the street gangs of half of France. The lively little creature jumped into my arms as soon as I got out of the car. That's how I started talking to the elderly gentleman. I first tried my scrawny English. He let me practice for a while and then smiled elegantly and said I could try again in my own language. He had worked in Germany for many years. He was not a craftsman, as his delicate fingers, his slender, almost delicate figure revealed. In his old gray tracksuit, he almost seemed fragile. His snowy white hair and ten-day beard probably only knew a brush from hearsay. He was old. Just like his motorhome, which stood there as if frozen in time. Neat, well-kept, even inside, maps, pencils, pots, towels, everything in its place - from yesterday. Or the day before yesterday. He and his four-legged companion lived in the motorhome. "We are at home everywhere," he said. "And nowhere," he added softly. I saw his water-blue eyes shimmer. I would have liked to talk to him a little longer the next day, but when I cautiously looked out the window at 7 a.m., he was already gone.

It was a long tour today. We wanted to avoid toll roads, so we drove at the allowed 80 km/h (50 mph) on country roads. It was a fantastic experience to see the clouds falling on this magnificent, wide nature. The forests covered in thick frost, the meadows sparkling clear in the bright January sun. The view from the window had a lot to offer - but so did the clock. 400 kilometers at 80 km/h (50 mph) and an estimated 87 laps in the roundabout can be quite impressive.

And they don't have to be the last ones today. Our planned parking spot no longer existed at the given address, and we couldn't find another parking spot with electricity supply quickly enough. Since our gas heating requires electricity, the question was how long our onboard battery would last. We haven't tried that yet because we've only been on the road in the summer so far. Therefore, our plan was made on its own: as long as it's warm, we can stay. And sleep. If it gets cold, we have to keep driving. No complaining. We wanted an adventure.