July 5: All Sete: Back on the Road
Wow! What a great welcome back to Europe. My ferry from Morocco pulled into port four hours early, giving me a day to explore the picturesque coastal town of Sete, France before hitting the road for Switzerland. Prior to leaving the ship, however, I had another rather humorous shower incident. I hope this isn’t a new trend.
After publishing yesterday’s blog, I decided to take a quick rinse in my cabin bathroom before disembarking the ship. I thought for sure my shower woes were behind me after getting shocked several times while shampooing at a hotel on the coast a few days earlier. Besides, the toilet and sink in my cabin on the ship had already failed. What are the odds the shower would experience a mechanical problem also?
But just after hopping in, the flexible hose burst, sending a powerful stream of water out the side of the hose and through my open bathroom door, thoroughly drenching the threadbare carpet on the floor of my cabin as well as the bed I had slept on. Moving quickly, I slammed the bathroom door shut, preventing further flooding of my room. Fortunately, all I had to do to finish my shower was turn my body sidewise to rinse off the soap that was lathered all over.
I had originally planned on changing my remaining Moroccan Dirhams into Euros after getting off the ship. But I found out beforehand that it’s extremely difficult to change African currency into Euros in France. Luckily, I found a truckdriver on board who spends time on both continents who was willing to do a trade with me.
Our ship pulled into the port at Sete shortly afterwards at 1:30 in the afternoon instead of the scheduled time of 5:15 at night, giving me an unexpected opportunity to explore the beautiful seaside town with its many canals and little shops.
After checking into my hotel, getting some groceries, and obtaining a European SIM card for my backup phone, I set out to wander the waterways and colorful side streets nearby. Crossing over two different bridges, I admired the many types of watercraft before finding myself standing in front of a bakery chock full of desserts I remembered from summers with my grandmother growing up.
Deciding on double layered sugar cookie filled with fresh jam and topped with powdered sugar, I sat at a little table on the edge of the seaway, watching people walk by and savoring every bite of my pastry.
After relaxing on the water for over an hour, I made my way on foot through a variety of narrow side streets to a reasonably priced French restaurant that served up a delicious meal of steak, potatoes gratin, and broccoli. The owner of L’Auberge offered me a small delightful, iced lemon desert on the house and also gifted me with a perfectly ripe fig just plucked from his tree.
When I woke up in the morning, my thoughts were fixed on my grandmother. I had visited with her only briefly in Switzerland before heading south to Africa, reasoning that it would be helpful to get to Morocco as soon as possible before the searing heat in the desert became unbearable. Now that my time in Africa was finished, I planned to spend several days in Morges, allowing me visit some of my favorite places nearby and more importantly to have some extended time with my grandmother.
Anxious to see my Grannie, I opted to take toll roads north, allowing me to arrive in town by 3:30 in the afternoon, early enough to get situated in my hotel room and make it to the nursing home in time to feed my grandmother her dinner.
Although I traveled on main roads, the view north was beautiful nonetheless, with rolling foothills covered in green and stunning swatches of yellow sunflowers and purple lavender. As I turned east on E62 along Lake Geneva and approached the towns where I spent so many summers as a child, my heart leaped with joy. The view of the French alps towering above Lake Geneva with the vineyards and fields of wheat in the foreground made me feel like I was home.
