We have lights; we have running water; we have refrigeration! La vie est bonne! After being told at one repair shop that we would have to wait for days to be seen, the place in Oostende asked, “In 35 minutes?” It took more than an hour of nervous waiting and then only another 45 minutes before Rover reappeared. “A loose wire from the battery box” was the € 67 explanation. Everything works again. And, as if in expiation for last year’s misbehavior, the hot water heater has actually turned itself back on when the water in it gets used up! We were off to the nearest grocery, ATM, LP gas pump, and campground, exhausted but greatly relieved.
That was Friday; on Saturday morning we drove down the coast to Calais--through a busy tourist area that shows no sign of a slowing economy--this being the first holiday weekend of the season. From Calais we headed inland toward the Paris-Roubaix bike race route and found a little village campground 3 km from the route.
I was delighted to also see a little church just down the street, but when I inquired about Easter services I was told there would be none. “Just one priest for 17 parishes. He was here last Thursday and will be here again sometime in May.” So on Easter Sunday we got up to ride our bikes to the race route and found a chocolate rooster on one bike seat, compliments of the campground proprietor. We waited for the race in front of another silent village church. Around 11 a.m. about a dozen primary school children and their parents gathered for a short egg/candy hunt on the well kept lawn. Some traditions never end. A small crowd gathered, the hundreds of support vehices from the race came by, the bikers flew past, 
and we rode our bikes back to the campground. Later we went to the only open functioning business in the village: a sports bar--so named because it has a big tv--and watched the finish of the race. Tom Boonan won, going away.
Then on to Amiens and the largest cathedral in France. Easter Monday turns out to be a holiday for most people. We have been trying to find an open gas station with an air pump to fill the bike tires and doublecheck Rover’s. And we are still in the hunt for an air compressor that will fit in the motorhome. We did finally find a huge grocery store and, now that we are trusting our refrigeration, bought about as much as we can fit in our cupboards and refrigerator. And then we stumbled upon a campground about three miles from the center of the city with the help of an old French lady who was very excited to help us. (Like many Americans, she seemed to think that the more often and more emphatically she repeated her directions, the more likely we were to understand her. And, like many Americans, she was wrong.) We rode our bikes back along the Somme to the city center and the cathedral and even ate at an outdoor Greek restaurant.
We have come into Spring. Trees and flowers are budding and blooming everywhere. We are surrounded by fifty shades of green. We drove through forty miles of already worked farm fields this morning that reminded us of southern Minnesota--big rolling fields with few hedges or forest breaks. We don’t think of this kind of place when we think of France, but this is definitely big farm country and it is beautiful. This is the Somme region, so the countryside is also dotted with military cemeteries from WWI: each one full of flowers and well trimmed lawns, and even 90+ years later some freshly placed remembrances. 