I finally left Terri's at about 2.15pm and headed for home looking forward to the eight hour drive.

Terri had directed me out of Brussels on the E40, so I dutifully charged along it until I realised there may be something wrong with seeing signs for the Channel Tunnel and smelling sea air. It was only then that I realised she only ever drives out of Belgium to Calais. Whilst I was driving I wasn't at all concerned that I was following signs to Oostende because I couldn't remember what shape Belgium is. Also - and this is what really pissed me off - Brussels was signed from Paris. There was no mention of Paris (let alone France) in Belgium until I almost reached the border. So I charged down the A25 to Lille and into then Paris to meet the Périphérique at about 8pm.

The first time round, the traffic was absolutely appalling, so I got a good opportunity to take in the road signs and scenery. When I saw the Eiffel Tower, I considered I may have gone too far east-bound but decided to continue my voyage round because to turn round would have involved going west-bound, and that was grid-locked.

When I saw the Eiffel Tower again about half an hour later, I came to the conclusion I was failing to navigate round Paris successfully. I rang Charles who eventually pointed out that "Pte de Orléans" means "gate to Orléans" because Parisiens are tossers and don't use sortie like everyone else in France. So I came off the Périphérique (when I'd got round it again to the right gate) which landed me infront of a restaurant called "Orléans" and big signpost with 'Pte de Orléans' written on it, but no signs other than back to the Périphérique.

I went back onto the Périphérique to have another look at the signs, thinking that the ones in the other direction might have something more useful on them. When the Eiffel Tower popped up on my left (as opposed to my right like the last two times), I decided to seek help.

I explained to the policeman that I had been round the Périphérique in both directions. When he had finished laughing (he was cute so I let him off) I asked for directions to Orléans. He said "straight on" then disappeared off in his little Peugeot 306 - to fight crime or something - neglecting to tell me that about 100 yards up the road it split in two and that I'd have the choice of going onto the Périphérique or going onto the Périphérique.

I decided to make a plan: I would find a landmark then plot a new route from that. When I arrived at Orly airport (after having gone "straight on" but to the left a little) the light from the departure hall was good enough for me to get a good look at my map. Eventually (after having gone back into Paris for another stab at the Périphérique) I made it to the A10 at about 11pm (three fucking hours!) and then managed Paris to Limoges in about three hours more - which is less than the train. I got to Brian's at just gone 3am.

I don't understand. When I went to Brussels, it was all signposted and lovely and - save some navigation in Brussels - all went smoothly. All the road signs also had useful things like directions to other motorways, but it didn't work in the opposite direction. The result was my 487 mile eight hour drive on Thursday turned into a 647 mile thirteen hour drive tonight.

I will take the train next time - although I caught myself overtaking the Thallys on one stretch of motorway out of Brussels so it can't be that much quicker.