The forecast for the next 10 days said temperatures in the high 30's everyday, with no sign of rain. In France, that's called a canicule, but it is unusual for it to last this long. Even London was forecast to have its first recorded day over 40 degrees. As in Australia, people in Europe are starting to realise that we are beginning to see the early impacts of climate change. So rather than sit on a hot boat for the next 10 days, we decided to go collect the camper van and head up into the Jura, where tempearatures are forecast to be a little lower.

So we were up early at 0730h to say goodbye to Rob and Anna, who were heading on to Mulhouse, and then at 0950h we boarded the train to Auxonne, via Besançon. The train trip is very scenic, especially between Montbeliard and Besançon, where it follows the Doubs Valley, next to the river and/or canal for much of the way. It was interesting to see that same scenery, but from a different angle, in just one hour, compared to the five days we spent on the barge going the other way. As we travelled, we realised it was the July 14th holiday, when three groups of three warplanes flew above us in formation, on their way to some ceremony down the river. It was slightly anachronistic, since I don't think planes were around on the original Bastille Day, but we got the symbolism.

When we got to Auxonne, we decided that Rita should wait at the station with all the luggage, and that I would go to the port to collect Vanumbra, and then collect Rita and the luggage at the station. So I walked the 1.5km from the station to the port, and given the heat I was glad that I was not carrying luggage. When I got to the port, I initially thought that I had stupidly left one of the skylights open. However, as I got closer I realised that that was on another camper parked in the car park. Vanumbra was gone! Nowhere! Stolen! I initially didn't believe my eyes, and started wondering whether I'd parked it somewhere else. But then I realised we had seen it there just a couple of weeks earlier when we returned the car from Besançon. After I accepted the reality of the situation, I called Rita at the station and explained what had happened. I then drove the Scenic to the station and collected her and the luggage. In the meantime, I realised that I had not brought my wallet (and driver's licence) with me.

Rita and I then went to see Port Captain Alain to explain what had happened, and see if he had any advice. He was just as shocked to learn of the theft (in his car park). He advised that we should go report the theft (which must have occurred in the past 2 weeks) to the police, and also to contact our insurance office. But I was concerned about reporting to the police, if I could not provide my drivers licence as proof of identity and, since it was July 14th, the insurance office would be closed for the public holiday. He agreed therefore that it would be best if we went back to Montbeliard to collect the wallet (and any other papers) and then contact everyone tomorrow. One little problem is that all our campervan papers were in the campervan (as usual) and hence unavailable to us. So Alain said he would write a Letter of Attestation for us, confirming that our boat was moored in the port, that we owned the campervan and that we had the rights to use the parking lot for short-term and long-term parking.

As we were leaving the port, ex-capitain John called from his boat and said that his wife Georgie had just arrived from Australia. So while we didn't particularly feel like it at the moment, we went around to their boat and said hello, and explained the situation. After a cold glass of water, we were on our way and driving back to Montbeliard.

We collected what few papers we had, plus various forms of identification, and since it was still very hot, we decided to escape the heat on the boat, by driving to Sarah's house in Besain, which we found to be an oasis from the heat (Sarah and Albon were still away at the annual karate kamp near Beziers).

As we sat there in the cool of their house, contemplating our options, I kept thinking of one of my favourite Leunig cartoons, which I think was first published during one of the world financial crises in the 1990's, which states that "Despite it all, the birds still sing, the flowers still bloom". Outside our windows, this was being demonstrated very clearly with the butterflies on Sarah's buddlija bushes; the butterflies were still indeed fluttering by!