Today dawned with great expectation and a very anticipated part of our journey. We were leaving Paris to journey north by car and try to locate my Great Uncle's grave at Roissel cemetery.
We travelled by train to Charles De Gaulle Airport to pick up our hire car. We did this because the Airport is north of Paris and it would save us driving through the city. We collected our car, an Opel Zafira, which was quite large and took all our luggage easily. It was also turbo diesel, which Gerard and Andrew really liked to drive.
So we headed oout on to the wrong side of the road (the right) and up the motorway, with the Sat Nav tuned to Peronne where we had booked a hotel. Now, if you are sitting on the driver side of a car (in our world) but don't have a steering wheel or pedals, or any method of control, and cars are whooshing along each side of you and they seem a bit close on the right, it is damn right scary. I moved over in the seat several times and told Gerard to move right a bit quite a lot. It really is very disorienting, ask Jordan, he was sitting behind me.
Anyway, despite the regular Aahs and watch outs and Gees we finally got to Peronne about 11.30am. I must add we got the boys to stop playing world rally on the PSP in the car because with their AAhs and Gees and my Aahs and Gees Gerard was getting really confused and distracted.
We found the Hotel and tried to book in, but it wouldn't be possible until 3pm, so we left and dialled Roissel into the Sat Nav. Ten minutes later we were there and follwed the signs to the Cemetery and Cemetery extension. Now, I knew my Uncle was in the extension and I had the row and number details so we were on track.
When we pulled up in the car park, it was very cold and raining, I might add, a lovely English couple took us under their wings and showed us the cemetery register where we found my Great Uncle's name and details and they took us straight to his grave. This took about 90 seconds max. It was just amazing how beautiful the war cemeteries are, they are so well kept with beautiful lawns and gardens and what we thought might have been difficult was so easy. It was a little bit emotional as I had heard the stories of my Great Uncle all my life and I have his memorial on the wall at home, so it was fantastic to actually find him at last. I rang Dad and told him straight away, he got a bit emotional too!
We now had the restf the day to spend in the area and headed back to Peronne to get warm and dry and have some lunch. We always seem to pick good eateries and had a fantastic lunch at a local bar and cafe. We then headed off to Villers Brettonaux and the Australia War Memorial. It is absolutely mind blowing, beautiful but at the same time so moving, and it brings home to you how many Aussies lost their lives in France. There are just walls and walls of names. I must add a lot of Canadian, New Zealanders and British soldiers as well as Germans are buried there too. It certainly makes you think about the futility of war and the loss of so many young beautiful lives.
After wandering around for quite a while feeling the emotion of the place we went into town and the Australian/French War Museum. They really love us Aussies, and the museum was amazing. They even have a stuffed kangaroo that was the mascot of one of the batallions. We spent hours reading and absorbing the history and the horrifying events.
We travelled on to Albert and visited another museum, which was underground and had many diaramas. Once agin it was very interesting and moving. By now it was getting quite late and time to head back to Peronne, I think you get to a point where you can't take any more in and you feel really drained.
We booked into the Hotel and returned to our lunch spot for dinner. Of course you go back if the food is good! It was hilarious, half way through dinner the twon drunk (a lady) is seen coming across the town square and the waiters lock the door to keep her out. She bangs away on the door and makes a general nuisance of herself until they go out to tell her to go away. She then throws a tantrum and throws herself on the ground knocking tables and chairs flying. They help her up into a chair and return inside to lock the door again. She yells and screams a bit more and then moves on. The sights you see in little towns.
An Englishwoman then spent 20 minutes on her mobile regailing the story to her firend in the loudest voice ever and you could hear every word across the cafe. We were laughing so hard it hurt. Thus a very memorable day came to a close.
