Lost in the Woods...

it's mid November, it's getting late, and it's already dark.

we move forward, inch by inch, nearer to the police road block. there are dozens of Gendarmes, strolling around with pistols in pockets.

the car in front has 3 officers talking to the driver, one with an industrial torch shining through the window. they look up, they see us, they urge us forward. will they, won't they? their beady eyes stare us up and down. they wave us straight through and it appears they're not interested as we drive on into the town.

the Sat Nav tells us where to go. ahead, turn right, then left.

straight into another road block. again, we move forward. inch by inch. again, their beady eyes stare us up and down. and again, we get waved straight through. they're not looking for a van load of 'ze Engleesh' then.

as we get out of the town, apparently nearing our hotel, civilisation seems to be disappearing. we find ourselves on a straight and narrow road, surrounded only by fields. then the fog sets in. it's just us and the road, and we're getting closer to the hotel. it feels like the opening scene to a horror film, the Sat Nav our only friend. turn left. turn right. straight ahead. we're nearing our destination. another left, down a dirt track, over a bridge only just wider than the van. we take a right. it's pitch black, our destination 50 yards to the right. except, to our right, is a lake. and just ahead of us a railway line. all we need now is a ghost train to roll past.

this can't be right. we turn around. we drive back up the way we came, take the next turning and come to a halt. it's as if we're the Allied Forces driving through a deserted French town. all shutters are closed. the mist coming in thick. a church bell rings and a man with a dog stares at us from across the square...

where the hell are we?