Ribeauvillé & Colmar

15 challenges

Rach roped us into doing 15 'challenges', given to us by our chums on social media, because we'd reached 1,500 followers on Instagram, so we had an apple eating race on our first evening at Lac Du Der. Over the next couple of days we ticked off a few others; Rach did a sexy milkshake dance - I can't remember what the challenge was in that - and we also threw one of my flip flops over the van. The challenge was that we had to stand with our back to the van and throw it backwards over the roof. Fucking easy son. Not so for Rach though - she somehow managed to throw the sandal forwards, away from the vehicle. ''I've always been rubbish at sport'', she laughed.

Lac Du Der

We were able to carry out such stupid behaviour because we were parked up at the end of a very long, straight path which took us right out to the edge of the lake, with nobody around for miles. It was a great spot - perfect for a camper. We had a couple of swans for company, plus those little black duck things with white beaks that sound like they're shouting 'prick!' when they quack. We attempted to feed the swans but they don't like banana.

On the second day I went for a stroll while Rach face-timed her friend. I wandered up to the top floor of an old abandoned structure about half a mile from the van, overlooking the lake. Once at the top I walked out to the edge of the balcony. After a second, I looked down and noticed the wooden floorboards underneath my feet were rotten. I was instantly reminded of my dad's accident when he was a kid, when he fell three stories through a dilapidated building with no ceilings and landed on a door at the bottom. He survived, obviously, but only after rupturing his spleen. For a split nano-second I was amused at the tale of my uncle, who had been there at the time, running back to my nan and advising her  - ''Mum! Colin's dead!'', but I very quickly snapped back to the precariousness of my current situation. Clearly it was dangerous being up here.

I shuffled back across the floor to the stairwell, as if not lifting my feet off the surface would help. I then climbed back down the couple of floors and out of the entrance, passed the orange tape that had been put up to stop people entering (eyeroll). I hadn't registered it on the way in, but in my defence the tape had perished and was dashed on the ground, either by the wind or someone else. Who knows how dangerous it really was being up there, but if I had fallen and been killed, at least I'd have the perfect excuse for sitting out the remaining social media challenges.

After days of heavy rain, the weather was now great and we were able to open the back doors for the first time since last summer. Within 5 minutes though, a swarm of little black bugs had invaded. Luckily, we've bought a mosquito net - we'll need to get it up as soon as possible.

Driving further south, we could see how flooded everywhere was due to the recent heavy rain. Lots of rivers had burst their banks. We parked up for an evening by one such river, next to some local old boys playing Boules.

The following couple of days were very quiet, as we started to absorb news of the escalating Coronavirus situation. Other headline stories included Rach putting her hair in a centre parting (but not liking it and changing back), and the glass pot which held our van plant shattering in my hand, causing the plant to fall to the floor, rupturing it's spleen. ''Rach! Leafy's dead!''

We decided to stay as close to the German border as possible as we travelled south. We were anticipating Germany closing its borders any day, and if they did, we would have to jump across into the country, as we were due to meet my mates in Munich on April 3rd. We had arranged to meet in Italy, but that was obviously now out of the question.

Ribeauvillé

Having to stay close to the border worked great for us, as it meant we were able to visit two amazing French towns - Ribeauvillé and Colmar. Both are magical, like something out of a fairytale. Ribeauvillé is the smaller of the two. As we walked along its main street the castle which sits high up on top of the hill in the distance came into view between the colourful, timber-framed shops, bars and restaurants. We bought a new plant from a local florist to replace Leafy, but forgot to ask what kind of plant it was, or whether or not it was shatter proof.

Colmar

Colmar is the larger cousin to Ribeauvillé. Full of the same colourful timber-framed buildings and has a few canals running through the centre, forming an area known as 'La Petite Venise'. It's as pretty as it sounds. After our first day in Colmar, France announced that all non-essential establishments were to close. We went for a walk around the following day to check out the vibe. It was very quiet, and everywhere was indeed closed. Apart from the bakery. Oh and the wine shop.

Switzerland plan

Sat on a bench near the canal, with a baguette so twisted it looked as though it'd been made by an octopus with multiple personality disorder, we made a decision to cross the border into Switzerland. The plan was to spend as much time as we could there before the closing of borders forced us into Germany.

We'd been in Switzerland for one hour when Germany announced it was closing it's borders at 8am the following morning. Great. We immediately made our way to Germany, via France. Three countries in one day! That's a first.

Germany

It was dark by the time we crossed into Germany. They were already doing checks.

Policeman - ''Hello. Where are you going?''
Me - ''Er, Germany.''
Policeman - ''Well, Germany is a big place.''
Me - ''Well that's not my fault.''

I didn't actually say the last bit, but I wish I had. I'm sure he would've found it hilarious.

We found a spot on the edge of the Black Forest, right in the south-western corner of Germany. By this point we had one eye constantly on the news. Coronavirus was getting out of hand all over Europe. At least the weather was great. We had a walk to Rotteln Castle and Rach cut my hair. Not at the same time. We were hearing that supermarkets back home were getting plundered, but we found no such issues when we went to stock up in Germany.

Later that evening we heard that France was to be closing it's borders AND introducing a full lockdown at 12pm the next day. WTF. We now had a big decision to make. We'd agreed previously that if things did get to the point where we were going to be in lockdown, we'd want to be as far south as possible, near the coast - preferably south France. But should we go now, or stay in Germany and gamble on my mates' flights going ahead in a couple of weeks' time?

Race against time

Our decision was made easy when my mate messaged to say he'd received an email notifying him of his cancelled flight. That was that then - full steam ahead to France. Again. Poor Rach. She'd done a lot of driving in the last few days. It was making the insurance company's decision not to insure me look ridiculous. We hit the road at about 9pm to start making as much ground south as we could. All of a sudden there was a real urgency to our lives. We flew across the border into France with no hold ups, but could see that the queues coming into Germany were never ending. The chaos had begun. My dad messaged me to say how much he was enjoying a Beyonce concert on TV, which was of no help to us whatsoever. Before long we were into the early hours, so we pulled up for a quick nap near Arbois, about an hour from Geneva. I set the alarm for 7am. We were roughly halfway down the country and had until midday to make it to the south coast. Would we make it?

Recommended park up at Lac Du Der:

http://park4night.com/lieu/25291/