dragons and kings and dormant volcanoes

Three thousand three hundred kilometers, seven castles, four mountain ranges, three countries, two freedom-loving ladies, one car.

Happiness is getting into a car and driving through France (and small bits of Switzerland and Andorra) without any goal, just to see where you end up. 

We ended up in a heatwave, in the murky waters of the Loire, in the airy throne rooms of ancient kings, in the vicinity of dormant volcanoes, in a wild garden party with magnum bottles of wine, above the clouds on hairpin roads, in a concert with instruments we'd never heard of, in a cave with a chained dragon, under Roman triumphal arches, in medieval villages with loud cicadas and silent bats, in a hot city flat with no air-conditioning, at tables with strange and wonderful dishes, in the middle of our wildest dreams of freedom.