Tour de France

1st September
September, this is the start of our fifth month in France.
We left the farm by the side of the Sein with milk, cream, tomatoes and half a rabbit.
There is a very picturesque drive along the Sein north toward the coast, in places there are high spots with views of the river. Many of the thatched cottages in the region have irises growing along the ridge, it seems the thatchers put them in when they finish the job. The photo in Buquelon shows this regional characteristic.

Reaching the coast at Honfleur, a popular place for artists, we found a nice spot on the quay for lunch, parking free all afternoon until the Gendarme Municipal told us it was reserved for fishermen. There is a large municipal site for campingcars which was quite full with nothing like the views. I told the Gendarme I was not staying, and off he went.

 
We carried on allong the coast to Deauville, seeing a number of vans on the quay, French Bitish German and Belgian, I pulled alongside a German. The owner was admiring the view. “I bet you speak some English“ I said.
“No.“ A long conversation ensued in German. "If we don’t understand each other we must use our hands and feet" he said, he is 76 years old, “it is good to stay here it costs nix.“

We stayed for a couple of nights.Each night there were15 to 20 vans despite the sign which reads.

.
It was a  grand spot we could cycle across to Treauville where you can buy fish from the boats on the quay..

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

30th August
We moved north to stay on a small farm by the Sein near Hauteaurville.We purchased cream, tomatoes, cucumber, marrow, jam, eggs and milk from the farm shop, all produced on site. The milk was not 'in stock', one of the sons was called, we were taken to see the farmer milking the cow by hand and given our milk there and then.
There are fine old Normandy buildings on the farm and around in the village.

The field we were in is open to the the narrow road, the road runs along the embankment of the river. The mist in the morning is eerie.

At high tide at night a seagoing cruise ship slid by, a strange sight cutting through the field.

31st August
We took the ferry to Jumieges, free for foot passengers and bikers to see the Abbey.

There is a daily market in Jumiege the locals take the free ferry to fetch their shopping and newspapers.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

The house at the Cider Farm is 450 to 500 years old, typical Normandy half timber construction.

A small house in a state of disrepair in the garden is a pigeon house.
 

In the orchard is  an old bakehouse.The small property would be superb restored to its original state. The upstairs is reached from a door outside up a staircase, there is  no water or electricity it would still be a great holiday retreat.

We are in a lovely spot in the orchard, the owners are so nice and invite us to stay a few days. What a hard decision to make Calvados sampling and Cider supping for a day or two, why not, there are some local atractions in cycling range. The big house in the village is a Stately Home Museum. There is an art exhibition at the Tourist Information center.

After dark we look at Mars at ts closest for 200yrs, the conditions are ideal, no light polution, mirriads of stars and Mars like a brilliant ball of flame.
It rained on Thursday afternoon, evening and Friday untill evening. Still the ground was hard baked. The local radio station sent a reporter to interview the owners re the drought, the apple crop will not be good this year.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

27th August
We are off to the river Sein near Rouen. We don't want to get involved with Paris, this is the way to cross the river. Stopping upstream for lunch at la Roche Guyon. Here chalk cliffs  drop down to the river, there are caves, some beautiful houses perched at the top.

The Sein is wide and navigable, right up to Paris. Huge sea going car transporters pass by going up river.

We head over to see Monet's garden at Giverny. The poor chap lived in a peacefull country setting and that is how we see his surroundings in his pictures. His new neighbours must hate him, the coach parties, huge car parks carved into the meadows. Pedestrian underpasses, cafes and souvenier shops, a magnet for crime.

The whole place is not quite Disneyland but I would rather be looking at the garden of a lesser known artist. There seems to be a restriction on the provision of camping sites, the nearest one in the book was a sea of gypsies.

We resisted the chance of joining them with their satelite TV, Kari-oki and barbecues and headed for Le Noyer-En-Ouche to a cider producer. It was a hot journey at rush hour through Evereux, the roads bumpier than in the mountains, longer than we usually undertake. We arived to be greeted by a lovely couple and, "would you like some cold cider.“
"No, I don't touch it.“ And I tell lies.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

24th August
Enough of war, we head to Amien to see the cathederal, its the biggest gothic building in France.

The city stands on the river, there is an extensive canal network, the islands between the channels are superbly fertile. For centuries they have been market gardens, the photograph is at Camon just down the canal from the center.

Horticulturists go off to their plots on motorised punts and take their produce to market by the same means of transport. It was interesting to see them return to work after lunch with  trays of lettuce seedling and tools, start up their outboard motors and head off.

We travelled on to a tiny hamlet, Hameau de Seronville for 2 nights on a farm campsite amoung apple and pear trees.
Sue still asks, “how did you take that photograph.“ It is surprising what you can do with a small timer, a brick and a home made parachute. I didn't use any of those.

We gathered 'muire', blackberries in the lane to go with crab apples from a lane near Voucienne, Champagne region and fallers from the campsite.
Blackbery and apples, lovely no pastry as we do not have the facilies but this is replaced with brioche.
A challenging thought came across my mind, could we live off the land for a complete meal or two.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

In the Afternoon we drove to Vimy Ridge. The monument stands in spectaclar position on the peak of the ridge. It is a vertical pillar split in two as if by some violent force, 6,000 tons of limestone were used for the monument and 11,000 tons of concrete in the base.
 

The Canadians took all but the peak in half a day on the 9th April 1917. It took a further three days to take the peak, Hill 145. Casualties 10,602, dead 3,598.
To me the most moving part of the monument is the huge statue of the “Mother of Canada“ looking out from the ridge weeping for her sons.

 
Much of the infrastructure of the German defences remains, the photograph of the German trench, and lookout post show how well preserved it is.

There are many kilometers of supply tunnels, a free guided tour of the tunnels under the site had a 1 hour wait, we didn't have enough time. An English group who were next to go in with the guide said, ’it’s Ok you are with us’ and we headed for the entrance. At the top of the steps you get a history talk and a warning about the claustophobia and need for a bent back in the tunnels, at that Sue chickened out, niether of us took the tour.

This area is very short on facilities for our type of camping. It was very nice to be able to stay on the lawn of a pork farmers house in Douchy les Ayett. His shop is right next door in the village.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

The explosion of the mine on 1st July 1916 film can be viewed via the link below.

If you are asked about plug in associations, I would answer NO.

Click the <- Return arrow on your browser to return here after viewing.

http://www.firstworldwar.com/today/footage/malins.mov

The site First World War Com tells the story, it is well worth a visit if you have an interest in WW1.

I think the cameraman was about 20m nearer Auchonvillers than my recent photo position at our overnight stop..

23rd August
It a was a quiet night on the front line, silent and moonlit.
The area where we were was used as a casualty clearing station, convenient, being near the road and close to Auchonvillers. The Tommys called the village Ocean Villas. Typical English humour.The church spire is visible in the photo.

The understanding of the warfare gained from being here, seeing and asking questions is invaluable. The dead and no hopers would have been put over that wall over there on the other side of the road we are told.
Anyone who wants to live the scene a little should read, ’Birdsong’ by Sebastion Faulks. Not perfectly accurate I am assured but near enough for the non historian.

I had heard of mines, land mines, anti tank mines, anti personel mines. My understanding of the big mines was not clear. Welsh coal miners were brought in to tunnel toward and under the German positions. There they placed explosives which were detonated later. The Germans were doing the same, sometimes they broke into each others tunnels.

At 7.20 am on the 1st of July 1916 a huge stash of explosive was triggered under the German lines on Hawthorn Ridge.
This explosion was the signal to start the battle of the Somme. It is said that if you have seen a newsreel film of a huge WW1 explosion then this is what you saw. The explosion produced Hawthorn crater 150meters long by 100m wide. It is difficult to depict a crater now filed with trees in a photograph. It's big and deep too.

The explosion was 10minutes early, this caused problems, some went on the signal some waited for the correct time.

There are no facilities nearby for campingcars, I needed to empty the toilet. The house sewage is an organic tank so our chemical loo could not go down there. I was handed a spade, “use the earth method if you wish.“ There was a rough patch of ground growing good stinging nettles. I dug, the ground was dry and hard with cracks, I know this clay soil, when its wet it sticks to the boots and slips and slides. I had diffuculty getting a big enough hole, when the toilet was emptied in it soaked in very, very slowly. We have all seen the mud of the Somme on film.

We headed for the Irish monument, Helens Tower, at Thiepval, a copy of the tower on the estate in Ulster where the Irish regiments trained for the battle.

The Irish went in with enthusiasm at the signal explosion, they took the front line, second line and finally the third. Unfortunately no one else had done anywhere near so well. Consequently they were now surrounded by the Germans, they were behind them and they were shelled by the British who did not know they were so far forward. They suffered terrible losses.

The woods from where they launched their attack have now been purchased by the Irish goverment, they will go on display in the future once unexploded material is removed.

The wood contains "five souces of danger" we are told, unused munitions left by the regiment, unexploded shells fired at the regiment, presents thrown into the woods by French farmers who plough them up, gin traps set by local hunters and wild boar who have been seen around.

One lasting memory from here was the statement. “Do not imagine that at night when the fighting stopped it was quiet. The hills moaned with the cries of injured young men. At dawn the slightest movement of a body hanging on the barbed wire would bring a hail of bullets to the skull.“

Those who were Identified have a grave.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

After lunch we visited the Newfoundland Memorial park at Beaumont Hamel. Climb the Newfoundland monument, the Caribou, for an overall view of the site. The impression again is the closeness of it all.

The British front line has linking trenches the network given London street names. Men were ordered over the top to capture Y ravine at the bottom of the field in front of the row of trees. An impossible task against heavy machine gun fire.
Most of those who survived were the wounded, who managed to crawl into a shell crater and lay there until darkness. What would be the difference in this situation between what they called cowardice, and common sense.

Y Ravine cemetry. Just one of many cemetries at the site

A German trench looking toward the British front line. The front line is 50m this side of the monuments in front of the trees.

The 51st Division Scots Memorial. Just who ordered men in kilts, playing bagpipes, to march down a field against machine guns in a secure ravine. They suffered heavy losses.

German Y ravine was deep it had comand tunnels and caves off. During a shell bombardment they went undercover returning unscathed ready to meet the any charge with their machine guns ready.

From here we went to stay the night on the lawn, at the house of a WW1 researcher. Actually on the British front line with a view across to Hawthorn Crater, the clump of trees on the horizon, left of centre.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

22nd August
We moved on to the Somme past Laon, which stands on a plateau with the cathederal standing out. The flat feilds of wheat are what I expected to see in the Somme river area. We had lunch in Albert. The church has a golden statue on top which was toppled by gunfire but did not fall. It was said that when it fell the war would end. It became the target for many a hopefull pot shot.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

20th August
The previous photograph shows the superb view of the river Marne valley from Vouciennes. Damary lies down to the right we decended for lunch by the river side.
After a look around the town and a siesta, I watched a busy boat owner washing down his decks at the mooring. After this he got out the white paint and touched up the superstructure.
The boat was huge an ex load carrier, patio doors at the side looked ’normal size’ to me. Named, Premier1 she was flying a not un-noticeable sized Stars and Stripes.

My curiousity got the better of me, I wandered over and cracked probably the worst quip he has heard (or is totally bored with). “You have come a long way“. Bill, the owner put down his paint brush and chatted.

“Is you wife here? Call her over we will have some wine.“ he and his wife Frances are Americans they now live permanently on their boat cruising the waterways. Based in the Middi in the winter they had come up to Paris and over to the Champagne region.
Premier1 is over 100 years old beautifully fitted out and maintained she looks new.

We chatted away, they wanted to hear about us and us them. We looked ouside and it was nearly dark. “Never mind stay where you are“ said Bill. Down where they are based there would be no questions asked. I was not sure in this area and opted to get going and head for a Champagne grower. Hence, no photogtraph of Premier1, sorry.

This was the first time we had been ’out after dark.’ We normally would find a host around tea time and settle in at a leisurely pace. The next small town had a couple of domains, first one, gates firmly padlocked. Round the corner, 7meter high iron gates again locked bolted and barred.
A teenager came along on his bicycle, “It is vacation time, everyone is away“ he said “Follow me.“ He rode through town turning left and right, a group of his friends called out to him, “back soon,“ he replied.
He took us to the Marie, the Mayor was not in. “I am sure you can stay here“ said the lad, right outside the Mayors house.

There was one more spot in another village, Festigny, we opted to go there, slipping in behind a Champagne retail outlet.

21st August
We took the route of the Chemin de Dames, an ancient route said to be built for the comfortable transport of the Princesses. Under here the Caves of the Dragon are a vast network of underground workings which were ocupied by the Germans as command posts hospitals and dorms. (Once they had captured them from the French.)
There is a visitor center at the cliff face entrance. Breather shafts are visible in the picture, the network lies below.

Next we went to the Plateau de Californie. Here, General Nivelle failed in his attack with great losses of colonial troops, causing mutinies.
This unusual monument is to the fallen unknowns.

At Malmaison was a fort, these areas saw action in both world wars the photograph is of German WW2 graves.

We carried on to Concevereux  to stay at a chicken farm in the shade under a huge willow

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

Moving on we visted the Trench of the Bayonnettes

A row of French troops were buried alive in their trench with bayonettes up, ready to go over the top. It was decided when they were discovered that they be left in peace. A monument is now erected above them for protection. Unfortunately trophy hunters started to raid the graves as the erosion exposed the guns.

At Mort Homme stands a memorial, a fierce victory figure sums up the horror.

Hill 304 was site of more fierce battles.

The village of Vauquois stood on a hiltop. The French held it. The Germans built mine shafts and tunnels, stone walled, with iron reinfoced trenches and deep shellproof caverns off on one side. Original barbed wire entaglements suround the site and lead off into the woods. The trenches are still intact.
The French had a 60mm railway to supply from underground to their side of the village.
The Church stood at the very top, now marked by a monument, its ruins now lie at the bottom of a huge crater.
One shell killed 108 men and left another gaping hole, the village has gone, there are just enourmous craters from French and German mortars.

FRENCH                                                                               GERMAN

We move on to stay in Champagne territory at Monthalon.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

19th August
A trip to the Verdun battle fields gives an insight into the horror and slaughter. Fort Vaux  shows the futility of the fort system of defense.

The French were surrounded starved and defeated by gas in the passages. They drank their own urine as they were totally cut off. A pigeon was given the League Honor for delivering the last distress message in the heat of battle.

The cast iron slatted observation dome on a tunnel would merely give a view that confirms your fate note the dents from pot shots.

Fleury was a village occupied by troops; it was wiped from the face of the earth by bombardment. It has been left as it was craters and all; posts mark the locations of the previous buildings.

The nearby Monument is on the ridge.

 
The Ossuary (bone crypt) is a huge foreboding building.

It contains the bones of 200,000 French victims. Below, visible through low level windows can be seen piles of bones and skulls from the unidentified victims including German. Opposite is a huge cemetery for the whole.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

After the round trip we went back across the Col de Hanz to Vincey to a retired supplier of raw milk and cheesemaker. A grand chap 76 years old and a fellow campingcariste

He provides a parking place or two in his garden. He was pleased to have us there and took us to the bakers in the morning then on to Charmes and the Britsh war cemetary in his van

In the afternoon he fetched warm milk direct from the cow for us. Each day he gave us something, 2 letuces, a bag of mirabelle plums, the milk, took us to Charmes swimming and on our last day a box of vegetables, potatoes, carrots, and some blackberries.

He charges nothing for the stay per night but suggests 5E for cancer research; in addition he likes to provide something for the 5E hence the goodies. He speaks no English.. He was in the Marines and is still pretty fit.

 

16^th August

We left via the Mosselle valley stopping for lunch by a lake here there were the biggest fish I have ever seen jumping. Then on to Blenod le Toul a domain in the village. The local wine Cotede Toul is white rose or red the red was dry the wine fresh and grapey 11.5%.

17^th August

On to the Butt de Montsec a strategic hill, and lunch at the American monument, which commemorates the battle 12^th to 16th August, when 450,000 American troops pushed the Germans off the Butt and out of St Miheil, 120,000 died.

Afterwards we carried on to Seuzey where an auberge and trout farm was our destination. This was another place where it was possible to catch trout for dinner, the direct translation is amusing. To Fish in the manner of a Knight with a Lance.

 

The method is really a single cane rod and fixed line. We wanted a small trout for dinner so I tried. I went and landed a salmon trout weighing nearly 2kg. Which we barbecued for dinner, in the night we had the first real lasting rain, since Biarritz and the day started wet.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

11^th August

We took a round trip to visit le Struhof camp. This was the only concentration camp to have been built on French soil. Situated high up in the mountains in the Foret du Donon, it is a beautiful spot.

The low gear whining climb up through the forest reminded me of the war films showing trucks packed with civilians, being transported under armed guard.

 

The camp was used to detain political prisoners; they were used as labor in the nearby granite quarry, prior to transportation elsewhere. It is built in neat terraces on the hillside.

Camp huts are in rows, guard posts, barbed wire and a wooden gallows all there to be seen. Behind us the memorial to those who disappeared and row upon row of crosses.

 

Can this get worse? Just take a short drive.

The separate kitchen building of an hotel was used as a gas chamber, the bodies of the victims being stored in huge tiled pits with a wooden lid. These were possibly the cold store areas for the hotel.

The killing chamber had a tiled wall and floor with a drain, again possibly previously used for food. It would easily be confused as a shower. The condemning evidence of conversion to a gas chamber is a hole in the wall, where a funnel was used to pour crystals into the room.

This feature was used in evidence in the trial of the Nazis involved.

 

Thankfully it was evidently used only 3 times the first consignment being 64 souls, Jews and Gypsies. A crematorium was also built 12km away.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

10th August

It was still too hot, the plain that produces such good grapes due to the warm dry climate is not the best place to be this year. It was Sunday so no shops were open for cheese in Munster, the temperature 40degC in the shade, I wanted to try the  local cheese, its’s very smelly apparently.

Once again we decided to take the high road. Up the mountain road to le Linge 983m  ASL. At Horod on the way was a farm that produces Munster, it was 12.30 they closed for lunch at 12.00 open again at 3.00PM. Still no cheese,  will we have to stick to my feet for torture.

Linge is a strategic high spot, hence the WW1 battle to defend it.

Both German and French war cemeteries are around and the trenches are still preserved.

 

This is not trench warfare as I imagined. At the very ridge atop the mountain the French entrenched on the Western side the Germans on the East. French lookout posts poke forward through the ridge to within a couple of meters of the German line and the German blockhouse actually rises above the ridge to give a strategic advantage.

 

I cannot understand, since they had hand grenades how they existed so close together that a handshake would, almost have been possible. The Germans made a long slow advance up the mountain side building reinforced trenches and blockhouses on the way to produce an impregnable front. Result 10,000 dead, for possesion of one hill.

On to lac Noir and Blanc. Huge glacial lakes, Lake Black and lake White lay down through the trees.

 

 Then on to the Foret du Senones and the Auberge la Criquette at Raon l'Etape cool and beautiful, only 27degC at bedtime,after a cool lager outside at the bar. The site is among the pine forest next to a stream with frogs and eels.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

5th August
On to a cheese producer at Bouligney nr. St Loup. Here we stay at a farm, 4 generations of a cheese maker family live in the village.

We were greeted by grandpapa 80yrs old he spoke German, Dutch, French but no English, we had a long chat, I asked, “are you the fabricator of fromage.”
“Oui, yogort, fromage.” He replied proudly.
We saw the grandson at the shop, tasted a range of cheeses, and settled on gruyer cheese, creme fresh, and some damson juice. Grandpapa wanted to know what we liked.
“Everything we tried was our reply.”

After another chat he showed me a double electric socket in a lean to next to the ‘van. “Do not pull this plug out” he said and switched on a bandsaw used for cutting up the firewood, “bobbin,” he demanded, I worked out he meant my mains lead. “Put your fridge on the mains, make a cup of tea.”
“Right, OK, how much for electricity.”
“Nothing” he said.

Next morning he was over for another chat, he considered security problems were probably due to gitan or Moroc. We told him were off to Alsace, he showed us the tourist spots on the map, recommending that it would be cooler in the mountains. That was good news we as were planning on going up. ”You can stay another night if you wish,” he said.

Once again it seemed a shame to be leaving, sometimes fellow French, campingcaristes ignore us, sometimes we are instantly like old friends.

6th August.
We drove via Moisel valley to the Ballon de Alsace, having lunch at the Col de Ballon, it was cooler although there was so little breeze that the hang gliders and parascenders were having trouble getting off the ground. Our next stop was at The Tete Rouge de Gazon it is 12 km from St Maurice s Moselle all upwards to 1100m ASL. It is a winter ski run with ski lifts. The water supply, pure eau de source ran continually, piped off the mountain. Every evening ponies with bells canter across the mountain. It was cooler only 25degC at bedtime such luxury. We spent 2 nights there.

8th August
We traveled to Bollenberg Hill, literally a hill, with a view across the planes of Alsace to Mulhouse. This is Germany really, but don’t say anything, they will be fighting again.   We stayed at, (not in) the hotel at the top I surmised that the strategic position must have caused this hill to see action in 1870, 1914 and 1940, sure enough on the way out we saw a German Memorial which commemorates a big battle.

9th August
We had to move on to find some shade, at 35degC in the shade here with a good breeze and 31degC at bedtime it was uncomfortable. We went up to the Col de Firstplan for lunch in a wooded area, mixed conifer and deciduous trees, nice shade, 800m ASL.
Later, down the route de Vin to Turckhiem  to a Domain to spend the night under an Elderberry tree next to a peach.

They produce muscat wine white fruity, grapefruity, very nice.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

1st August
When I asked my GP for 6 months supply of pills she said, "go to Annecy it is beautiful, unreal" so today I am following doctors orders. As we headed toward town we experienced traffic queues, is that why she gave me pills for blood pressure?
We made for the bottom of the lake away from the crowds, parked by the shore for lunch and a swim. Parascenders were jumping from the mountains, passing over head across the lake and landing on the other shore. As I sat by the side, feet cooling in the water my toes started to tickle, after a couple of sessions of this I looked at my feet. Stay still for a while and small loach were coming to have a nibble.

In the afternnon we rounded the lake on the Alps side, over the top of Annecy to stay at a deer farm at Echelon. The farmer came in the evening to explain that at 01:00hr AM he would be bringing a trailer. Sure enough there was exited chattering of  men and women outside at about that time when an old decorated wooden cart arrived, whether it was for a wedding or a fete, we didn’t find out and I forgot to get a photo.

2nd August
The ’van brake warning light came on just as we set off. I stopped, checked the obvious, tested the brakes, and decided to descend into the valley regardless. In the first town in the valley was a Fiat dealer. They took a look, said it didn’t seem serious and sugested a trip to a specialist in Geneva, no charge. That scared the fault rigid, the light went off and comes on now and again to this day still, no one has located the cause yet.

We drove on to Mont de Cerf on lac de Vouglans and lunch, on to Pic de Aigle where haze restricted the view. We could see the Alpine range, but not Mont Blanc. Moving on to stay the night at Vernois where we tried Jura wine, white but with a full nutty flavour aged in oak brandy barrels very nice but price to match, we have lost touch with the 1E per ltr wine for washing down the dinner.

3rd August
Off via chateau Chalon and the Cirque de Ladoye. A cirque is a circular scooped out valley. This one produced by percolation of water on the plateu, forming a river source, then water erosion and glacial action. Some cirques are produced when a river breaks through an obstacle it has previously gone round.

Next we must go and vist the President in the Foret de la Joux. An honour aye? The Sapin President is 200 years old 43m high, the largest tree in France, so famous he is marked on the Mitchelin tourist Atlas maps.

It is cool in the forest, later we headed down to stay at Lemuy and a goat farm a producer of lovely Rotsy goats cheese.

 
4th August
Today we move north again through Salins, the river runs through the middle of town, there are trout in abundance, notices give a limit to the bag allowed.

The next attraction was, Royal Arc et Senans, a 1700 futuristic city which was to be built on the layout of  a clock face. The adventurous design had administration in the middle. A salt factory etc at the outside and accomodation along the radials, even a prison. Only a small arc was completed and is now restored as a museum. The entrance way in the photo is styled on a cavern in a salt mine.

The regions salt production was originaly based in Salins, the adventurous scheme was to move production to Senans, (salt city). Aparently the venture failed when the pipes used to bring raw salt from Salins corroded.

We stopped for Lunch at Fraisans by the river in the shade of the trees, it was too hot for words. While we ate and snoozed,  two new white Mecedes vans passed slowly by and had a look at us. On the way to Dampierre later they were parked with their caravans, Gitan again, were they sizing us up, maybe. On to le Petit Mercey and a snail farm for the night, sorry, Le Escargot Fermier sounds better. It was 28degC at midnight.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author

It is definitely cooler, only 25degC at bed time, fresh in the morning around 20degC.
An English couple arrived just after lunch they had been in Switzerland. This was their first stay at one of these stops.
Well they chose a good one, he purchased 10ltrs of the red wine.
We had packed up the van ready to do a short hop to Matigney, we had a long chat and a few glasses of wine together. It was tempting to stay another night, “we have got to get through  an awfull lot of wine all on our own.“

We set off down the road, Matigney is not as pretty a village but still pristine. It was now early evening, the wine producers were all closed up, it is always worth a knock on the door. Bolts were drawn back and a man  opened the big wooden door, “we would like to stay the night.“

“Come in,“ on a bar stool was a young felow holding a glass, his dog sitting alongside. “You have come to discover Bugey champagne?“

“No, well yes.“

“Here we produce champagne, we are not allowed to call it that because we are not in the region, it is ’Bugey method champagne’.“

The door is bolted behind us, we take a  stool at the bar, a cork pops, four glasses are poured and we practice more Francais. The man with his dog drinks up and says goodbye. Because it is not Champagne but ’method champagne,’ it is so cheap, 6 bottles go in the ’van, very nice, I could get used to this.

31July
Today we move on along the Val du Fier, spectacular cliffs and a drop down to the river Fier which comes from Lac Annecy, a river teaming with trout.

We stay at Hautville.

Our host raises trout in ponds, which you can catch to eat, and ostrich which you can’t, catch, that is, but you can eat them.. We did, ostrich steaks cooked on the barbecue, the ostrich looking over the fence, saying, "what ya doin mate, is that meat from my mate, mate?"

(c) All material is copyright of the author

Up the Isere  across to Volreppe  and the Chartreus Mountains. Through the Gorges de Guiers through Vif to St Pierre and the Col du Granier.

On to Myane and a vineyard to try Vin de Savoie. White thin and acidic not our favourite and more expensive than the good old reds.

It was much cooler all the way only 35degC mid day and 27 degC in the van at 8:00PM.

29July
On to Chambery and Lac du Bouiget Aix les Bains, Chatillan. We could not park at the pretty end of lake, so we had lunch in a parking spot on one side. Throught the Marais de Lavours, marshland, some is cultivated, the main local crop is maize. Local villages are dedicated to the crop with drying floors in barns and houses.

Staying the night in Vognes the Caveau Bugiste.

It is an exquisite village, neat and tidy, our site beutifully done, much sculpture from a local artist in the vilage and at our site.

This is almost the wine bar where you do not pay for the drinks

.
It is very popular, people come to buy their wine supply and tourists drop in, there is an art gallery, bar, tables and chairs display of produce including speciallities, museum of wine and stone working and childrens play area outside.

As soon as you arive you are asked what would you like to drink, the empty glasses and the list of wines placed in front of you. I requested the local traditional red, which we duly drank a glass of. “Very nice we will have a bottle of that.“
“What else will you try.“ 
“Its ok thanks, we are only buying one bottle.“
“ Well try this special pinot reserve, its very special.“  After a glassfull each we say, “very nice can we have our bottle now.“   We left the bar, happy and confused, the bottle of wine was cheaper than the listed price. I cannot see this catching on in England.

(C) All material is copyright of the Author

The Road Fund Licence arrived by air mail on Wednesday, so did my recurrent kidney infection. I had kept it a bay for several years.The hospital gave it to me. Back home the bug was never identiried.

Jaques phoned his Doctor in St Marsellain, he said he would fit me in between 2 appointments if we get there quick. Jaques also obliged with a lift, translation and humour.
I explained the history and the anti-biotic I usually had, “Fine” said the Doc. “we want a urine test immediately.”

Quick Efficient appointment, unhurried examination.

The Laboratory was independent and round the corner as usual, the young receptionist gave me a bottle and a small foil wrapped pack.
“Oh” I said to Jaque “I’ve never been given a sweetie in England.”  I read the label, 'towellete' now I know what it is.
“Go on” said Jaques to the young girl, who spoke a little English and was reluctant to use it, “tell him in English what to do with it.”
“Non” said the poor girl, turning red.

I felt really ill and the humour did help. Next door as usual was the chemist, so the first antibiotic was down in minutes.

I had left it too long and the heat did not help, the pain and discomfort was awful, I was up 5 times an hour. I was delirious; my hair hurt, someone with a blunt brace and bit was trying to bore into my bones..

We picked up the test results on Saturday, they were ready within hours of the sample being presented. An E coli was identified. The anti-biotic chosen was listed as effective against it.

Patient informed, full details, in writing.
 
Sixteen years of tests in England were always negative. Of course they were, the Hospital gave me the infection, to their Lab it is merely a background.

Independent Lab, no where near the hospital, simple, sensible.
.
27 July
It is Sunday I was feeling a bit better so we went for a walk up the Gorge and the real rain came.

The pathway became a stream; we stood under the cliff with the brolly up awaiting a break in the downpour. There was the noise of a vehicle, they don’t come up here, there is a locked barrier across the track. A small truck marked, 'Commune Cognin le Goges' did a 3 point turn, “do you want a lift down.”

“Oui merci, nous Englais.”

“Yes I know, you have bicycles, I have seen you around, I had an automatic call to come and adjust the sluice when it rained, where are you staying?”

“Chez Jaques.”

“Oh, Chez Jaques,” We were delivered to the door of our ‘van in the council truck.

What a shame it will be to leave here and these people, but there are places to go sights to see, so on 28 July, after saying our farewells and Albert trying to steal the ignition keys, (they are never left in the ignition they were safe in my pocket,) we headed north.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

21 July
The Vercors is burning, everything is so dry, the trees around us are dying. A camping car arrived and reported the fires in the mountains. A few hours later the Pompiers were still coming to the village and going up to fight the blazes.

Pompiers are the fire brigade, many are volunteers, proud and multi skilled. Apparently if you need to go to hospital it may be a pompier who turns up to do the transport. To the UK eye, the assortment of vehicles, the need for them to be out on duty, at the best beaches, on the sunniest days, when the best beach babes are out, triggers just a little smile.
I was amused when we rounded a corner on one occasion to see a neat row of assorted firefighting vehicles lined up outside a large station. The doors were wide open, smoke was issuing from inside and a siren blasted out.
Yes France had just scored a goal in the world cup. No room for fire engines in there, a large screen TV, families seated at rows of trestle tables with neat white cloths, and lovely barbecue smoke and smells drifting out.

We have seen no rain for weeks only a quick shower since Biaritz in fact. The fires did not spread much. There is very little wind, no where near enough to produce any electricity. If the theif didn't have our solsr panel we would be OK, so the plug had to go into the supply post for the first time to charge our batteries.

I showed Jaques my cartoon idea, the centre line hogging, with one arm hanging down, studying the scene he said,  "yes we do that". Today he takes his test to become a huntsman, he does not want to shoot animals particularly. But,  "you have the house, you have the land, you have the business, you need the gun to complete the image" he said.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

I foresaw a problem before leaving the UK the road fund licence expires at the end of July. I tried the Post Office, no way to do it. DVLA Swansea, we can't do anything, contact your local DVLA office. The sugested solution pay 5 months early and they will post the tax disc to any address in the world one month before expiry. I didn't know where I was going to be at any time so I opted for the home address.
Jaques offered internet access, I had failed to get connected for weeks, at last we were online, we could e-mail the address to home and stay in one place untill the disc arrived. Needless to say the issuing of the disc had been forgotten, my son had to remind them, fetch it and air mail it to us.
Meanwhile we were discovering the area. St Marsellain, famous for its cheese is just over the Isere, The local villages have many houses with walnut drying lofts.

21 July
The weather has been scorching, unusually dry and hot this year, it is a matter of avoiding the sun all morning, lunch about 12.00, sleep in the shade until about 3.30, sounds familiar. Some mornings we take a packed lunch and go for a ride or walk. Our favorite is a walk up the gorge in the afternoon and swim in the deep pools, higher up the water is so cold it constricts the muscles, lower down you can tell the difference but it's chilly and leaves you cool and ready to face the evening.

His site is at :-   http://www.la-chato.com

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

We have been drinking bottled water unless it is boiled. Jaques said it is OK to drink the water in Cognin, it comes from the mountain, way up the Gorge.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

There are two mountain ranges between us and the 'dodgy south' now. Jaques is amused to see me lock the door when I walk across the field to see him. I don't lock my house or office when I go out he says.

So from my experience, what is the minimun security required for any trip in any country.

Locks
Vehicle break ins are common and easy even for the petty thief. The campingcar provides much richer pickings therefore a locking system over and above what is provided on the base vehicle is essential. I use a German system, two steel bars orange painted for visual deterrent purposes are pegged into each cab door and the bars are joined by a bolt, plus padlock if you wish.

Caravan type door locks are easily sprung open by even a small srewdriver. Hymer provide a mounting position on the door for an additional far more robust lock. I am quite impressed by the external security device which swings across the door on the outside outside and locks in position, unfortunately they are no good when you are inside.

Some vans have really usefull storge compartments accessed from outside, the hatches secured by a simple turn buckle lock. Not only are the goods in the locker at risk. Often there is access from inside too, pop a child in the locker from outside and he comes out from under the matress of a bed and opens the door for the thieves.

Windows
Glass can be broken, acrylic snapped, and heaven forbid, drilled with a re-chargeable drill. I have opted for making access to the catches imposible, reinforcing the acrylic, and adding further visual ties holding the catches down.

Accessories
Anything that is not part of the van needs to be attached to it and locked with strong locks. My solar panel is now glued and screwed to the roof. Valuables on a cycle rack will need securing to the rack. Often forgotten the rack needs securing to the van. Mine before I put two small padlocks on the top rail fixings would lift off after undoing two bolts.

Alarms
A visual indication of an alarm system in operation is essential as a deterrent. They may go else where if there is an obvious alarm.

Valuables
Cards, passports, documents, cash and valuables need to be in a a locked safe which is secured to the body of the van. There a many little hiding places in 'vans and the thieves know it. They will trash the interior levering out all panels, the fridge, the oven etc
There is no place in a campingcar for the wifes handbag, burn it. So many times the tale is told of the quick snatch from the cab at traffic lights or a filling station. The handbag gone with passports, cards, money, mobile phone, everything all in one easy to spot and grab package. Yes burn it. Even if it is empty, the thief doesn't know that, he will be breaking in doing damage for an empty bag.

The Dog
There is one reason that would make me a dog owner, the security offered by a big old dog that is even uglier and has a worse temper than me is obvious.

Registration
If I was doing a very long trip in France again I would consider buying the 'van in France. You would then have French plates and no dreaded GB come and get it label. Don't get a Paris registered  'van though, that says, on hire, come and get it.

.(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

10th July
We headed  around the Vercors Mountains along the River Drome to Crest, for water and vidange. It was rather crowded there. The national matted hair championships were being held. The owners of matted hair and rusty old vans were gathering for the event. Maybe it was a music festival as bandstands etc. were being erected.

We decided  on Cognes le Gorges  by the Isere River for our next stop. As we approached we were confused by the  kilometers of trees wth green fruits, soon we realised they were walnut trees, the Grenoble area being the center of cultivation.

We settled in at an organic walnut producers, Ferme de la Chatonnier.

The owner Jaques, will provide a meal if pre booked. A barbecue was already planned, he had 5 school children on an educational stay with two 18 year old girl minders. We were welcome to join in if we didn’t mind. What a delight that was, walnut aperitif, the barbecue, walnut beer, walnut bread with walnut oil and garlic, then melon, all with lots of red wine. We talked into the night, very enjoyable.

This is such an interesing area we decided to stay for a while, Jaques is in the Camping a la Ferme organisation and had space for us.
Note that we came round the Vercours range from Die, there is in fact a way across over the mountains via the pass but the road was marked as narrow with low underpasses.

We biked up the mountain (mainly pushing) toward Malleval, to a producer of goats cheese.
A plaque on the mountainside marked the spot where a 33yr old resistance member was assassinated, nailed, hands above the head, to the cliff face, feet just off the ground..
At a house another plaque a husband and wife  ’killed because they sheltered the resistance, died for the cause of freedom.’

Yet another plaque on another house, several men and women and two unnamed children, slaughtered, nailed to the beams and the house set on fire. All this happened amoung so much beauty in January 1944.

Albert and his wife Georgette were staying at the the farm in their caravan, they spend their summers here and act as caretakers / receptionists. Albert was evacuated here to this farm in the war. He was a teenager at the time. He would not talk about the day that the resistance were cleared from their mountain retreats. He and others in the village blamed themselves, for not going up the mountain sooner. When they went next day, it was too late. As if they could have done anything at all.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

7th July
We have to admit the heat and the flies are a turn off, it is 27deg C. in the morning when you wake up, the breeze is warm and there is little shade. The mountains are the place to go. We headed north to Vaison le Romain via Crestat. Here there are amazing Roman ruins, shops, theaters, statues and homes very well preserved. The river runs through with enormous trout.

The mountain pass, the Col de Chaudiere takes us past fields of lavender through to Saillans where we stay the night by the river.

8th July

Today we are going to Die. I have been waiting to say that.
We spent the day at the Col de Roussel, a high mountain pass aproached by steep zigzag roads. It was beautifuly cool with views over the valley.

We went down to Die in the evening past vast fields of lavender

to stay at Barsac, the Domain de Magord, under trees by a stream which feeds the Drome River at the bottom of the field. In the shallows of the river, two bottles of Cote de Rhone cooling in the shallows, how kind of some previous picnic outing to leave those.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

5th July
Our next stop is over at Malemort de Comtat at near Mount Ventoux where British cyclist Tommy Simpson died in the Tour de France on one of the hottest days recorded. In a few days they will be up there again. We decided not to bike up to look at his memorial plaque, although it is only 35 deg C.

The village is typical of the region, with an Avenue of Plane trees. Our host raises hens, ducks, guinea fowl and pigeons for meat and eggs.

There is an Aire at Carpentras we needed water etc. so we headed there next day, the point is in the town. I spoke to a Belgian campingcariste, he had stayed overnight there. They were heading for the Cote de Azure; I said we had just left due to the thieves. Yes he said, you have to take that when it happens down here, he had suffered. He was rather upset, when shopping, this very morning at 9:00 AM someone had tried to break his windscreen with a brick.

I wanted to look for internet access so once we had filled up etc. I parked in one of the provided spaces for coffee. I may now be getting paranoid but there are definitely non indigenous French citizens of working age sitting on a seat or a wall at a good observation distance, well, observing.

A GB couple in a hired delivery van pulled alongside and asked if we knew a place for coffee. Yes here, we said come on in; we had not spoken to any English people for a long time. Their van contained valuable antiques; they had taken on the task of delivering them to France. They would have parked here and gone to look for a café if they had not seen us. They were like many Brit holiday makers, virgins, just bowling down to the south in this lovely weather. Security was the last thing on their minds.
.
 I left the others ‘sitting shotgun’ while I headed for town to find an internet café, I found one, it was closed, alone in the narrow streets with many loafers about I didn’t feel safe, so I went no further.

North and away from the cities is the way to go. We searched out a view of the Dentilles mountains at Gigondes for lunch. Dent, yes they look like teeth.

Heading across country we spent the night at Les Mas Des Oiseuax and try a bottle of  their appellation 2002.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

In Maximin we dropped into a small supermarket for a few essentials. On leaving the car park I had to turn left crossing the traffic. Spotting a gap with just a motrocycle Gendarme aproaching I nipped across. Almost instantly he was alongside me gesticulating, oh dear, what I have done I thought, I signaled to pull over and slowed down. This left the motorcycle cop in the middle of the road in front of me.

With a shake of the head he waved me to catch up. Increasing my speed he was now alongside me again, I could see him out of the corner of my eye. He was gesticulating again, what does he want I said, don't know said Sue. Well I am not going to wind down my window whilst negotiating parked vehicles in town with a copper sandwitched between me and the oncoming traffic to have a conversation in French and try to find out.

I signalled and slowed again, surely if he wants to talk to me he will stop. He shook his head and waved me alongside again. I looked at him but had to concentrate on driving, we did a bit more slowing and speeding up before he shook his head and sped off down the road.

Did he think we were GB so RH drive (we are actually LH drive) and he would chat whilst going along to the passenger? You know the sort of stuff 'do you know my niece she is working in a restaraunt in Birmingham'. I shall never know.

We have visited St Tropez, Cannes and Monte Carlo as traditional holiday makers with a hire car. I think this is the best way to avoid being a GB labelled target for theft. One needs to be very carefull even so, a friend of mine was aproached jostled and robbed by two womem on a pedstrain crossing in Mote Carlo and hardly noticed. We decided to definitely give this area a miss.
I picked up the pieces of broken window in the cove, I decided that for now I would glues them back in place. The vineyard owner tried to explain the location of a Motor Factor in town to buy glue, then decided it would be easier to take us there. What a pity that there are the low life amoung such nice people. I thought about the problem of window security. I found aluminium U channel at the local Bricolage which I bonded, one to the body and one to the window so that they interlock when the window is closed, get a srewdriver in there you swines. The U channel on the window gives the acrylic reinforcement also. I did the security work by the roadside at Puylobier looking at Cezannes Mountain. The basic running repair tool kit I carry came into use. Whilst I cut and filed and bonded Sue drew Mont Victoire, Cezanne was inspired to draw the mountain many times, every day the light gives it a diffent appearence.

After lunch we rounded the mountain to Domain Toulon, near Rians.
Here we slept well with more security installed and the fine Provence Rosea nightcap as recommended by the ownwer, he also recommended it at lunch for a nice sleep in the afternoon.

We stayed another night at Toulon, the owners were very friendly but spoke no English they sugested we visit the maket in Apt tomorrow, Saturday. Whilst struggling to give full details a lady arrived.
Oh good said the owner you speak English don't you? Non said Madamme.
Quite amusing, Madamme will not speak English said the owner. We chatted on using our French, a conversation ensued about the widespread use of English in the world. When in France speak French said she. She was a very nice lady and the stubborn insistance on French is understandable. She did trip up though, we asked, have you visited England, 'oh yes' she said, then you do speak English, 'non', but when in England speak English. A smile 'non'.
We talked about the attempted break-ins, even in their own drives they break into cars not just tourists aparently.

We visited the market at Apt on Saturday, well worth the visit, French markets are wonderful, everything from cheese to live chickens. We then set off long the Durance via Lambesc and Aurons to Chateau Petit Sonnailler an 12th century building with amphora outside by the dozen.

The single vineyard worker started work at 6.30am and finished at 6.00pm with half hour lunch. I think he was Spanish, he had a little allotment plot with vegetables where he ate his lunch and tended his plants. We worked out it was the boss who took him off to the vines on the tractor and brought him back for lunch and at night. No doubt it is long hours in the summer and not much to do in the winter.
We bought some nice red wine for dinner. There was call outside, "madamme in campingcar". The boss had a large bunch of  parsley for us, "Persil, Bien?". The domain is set in the forest up narrow mountain tracks, forest roads run through the domain. A Forest patrol comes through with fire fighting gear on board it is very dry. Hence our hosts instructions, no barbecues, no smoking no fires, strictly.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

We left for Port de Bouc, we were in need of fresh water and vidange which we found at Carro.
Marseille is now close, remembering our French friend by the side of the Loire, yes, we are nearly there. Just round the bay is a little cove near Carry le Rouet with an aproach road. We decided to take a look and have lunch there. We parked in the shade of the trees alongside the road, the cicardas were as deafening as were the skylarks on Oleron, the sea rolled in to a small sandy bay, it truly is beautiful. I recorded the sounds of the sea and cicardas.

After lunch we debated whether to take a walk to look at the bay and the cliffs that projected past. It was only a distance of 150 yds but I put on full security and we set off. On our return about twenty minutes later there was a whistle, just before we rounded the corner to be in site of the 'van again. That was a warning call to Cote de Azure boys.
 They had attacked the 'van, the caravan door was checked with a screwdriver to see if the extra lock was on, it was, as were the cab bars, they were on view. With that level of security obvious I would have expected them to give up, but they used a screwdriver to lever the side windows at the catches, thus breaking out pieces of acrylic which gave them access to push up the catches with the screwdriver.

They must have been disturbed by someone else, or stopped by that warnig whistle, they had opened 3 out of the 5 catches. They are getting desperate to get into a GB van, we are getting out of here. It is disturbing to think that we were selected for robbery, and observed by a gang just awaiting the oppourtunity. There were only at most 5 cars down the 2.5Km road to the isolated bay, undoubtedly we saw them.

If we are to sleep peacefully tonight we need a pitch on private land.

We drove on to Marseille for a look. The marina area is interesting and the coast with numerous rocky islands atractive.

We needed to go north through the city, it was now 5.00 pm, we made slow progress in fast 3 lane traffic with bus lanes seperated by a concrete hump. The buses can cross at will but non PSV's have to stay put, quite a squeeze at times. We saw our junction, but had to drive past on the inner city dual carriageway and come back again on the other side, we could find no alternative.
We made it by evening to a vineyard at St Maximin.
 
Feeling a little strained we thought it would be nice not to have to cook. At the entrance to the wine outlet was a van with a wood burning oven. The onwer was getting ready to start cooking, order what you fancy, it will be ready in 1/2 hour. He was sad to hear of our experiences but not surprised. He has a boat and will work hard to retire early and then tour the waterways.
Work hard! I can't imagine the heat in that van with the wood stove flaring away and the temperature outside in the 40's centigrade.. I tried a little humour in French. 'Would Mssr. not prefer to sell ice-creams.'

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

The sound of the South. Mediterranean waves and Cicardas.

It takes our fellow man only minutes to ruin paradise.

PLAY

You may have to press play a couple of times !

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

27 June
We drove on, past the industrial Carmague to Fos, a small seaside resort with beautiful golden sands. There is a BP refinery way out across the bay and a busy container port.
We parked on the road and went ot look at the car parks, they had height barriers. A French couple spoke to us, they have a camping car here and often stay the night, 'but there is a height barrier ' I said.
'Pah height barrier' said the lady 'you lift and push to the side, you are staying ? ' When we came back with our 'van they had their chairs in a space next to them and were waiting to see us in, a spot adjacent to the beach.

The French couple had a large black dog that growled at anyone he did not like, he lived under the van in the shade, a good security feature. The dog barked in the night, I looked out to see two men move from between vans, to the roadway, in the morning I found our drivers door lock had been screwdriver'd.  It is so annoying because when they do this they damage the lock and dent the door slightly. The exercise is pointless for them as I have a security device, a steel bar which joins the two cab doors together. When that is in place and you have the key, there is no way of opening the door. The third door, 'caravan type' has an added security lock on it and that becomes the entrance point when we are in secure mode..

The French people all conferred and concluded that it was Gitan - Gypsies, who were responsible, there were some in the region. They were all upset that it is non French licence plate 'vans that are targetted, or Paris licenced vans. These are the signs of richer pickings, holiday money, Visa cards, passports etc.

The French couple were delightful, friendly with everyone. Their daughter was a GP, I had difficulty avoiding a consultation with her, re my thyroid. Left undiagnosed at home for several years, despite my pleas to my GP for tests, as I felt so ill.
They still felt I was not getting proper treatment in England and their daughter would get it sorted. Oh what a bad image the UK health system has abroad.
Likewise the Royal family, apparently 'Elizabeth and Charles are both Gaga.'

We stayed for a few days here, a super spot. The weekend got crowded as it was now into holiday time. Once again we had to leave rapidly. One morning at 9:15 AM, the workers arrived to secure the barrier, ready for the peak of the season.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

I have shown many of our overnight stopping places in France, many are Aires. Many are properties in a scheme with an open invitation to campingcars. Others are normal car parking places in villages and towns. Sometimes a layby, at a pinch, a grass verge or woodland track.
If in doubt we ask, can we stay here, the normal response is, but of course.

Contrast this with todays experience. Almost spring weather, the 'van needs a run, a chance to fulfill a promise to my Aunt, now 87 years old, to pop over and see her. She still lives in the village in Buckinghamshire where the family moved 86 years ago. Time was when the village population was bolstered by my relatives, several of whom lived worked married and had children there.

One thing you are sure to get from my Aunt is the truth, all the stone cottages are fetching high prices and it is a dormitary now, full of snobs she says.

This was the first time I have taken the van there, there is no on street parking. no village square, not even a car park at the church or at the graveyard. My Aunts drive is off a very narrow access lane, some visitors find it difficult to get a small car in, a drop into the brook awaits anyone who gets it wrong.

I drove through today and noted that near the church was skip taking up one spot where you could possibly park. Another spot on a wide corner was occupied. My best plan I thought was to clear the village and park on the wide grass verge near the crossroads. There are two farm houses along that road and a new huge house with a long drive near by. We had not been there long when a 4X4 stopped, 'this is private land' said the old boy. 'Oh yes' I said 'thanks for telling me, I intend no harm I am not intending to stay the night. I did think it was a roadside verge.'

'Well yes' he said 'its a council verge but privately maintained, the owner of the house there mows it.'

'Yes it looks as if it gets mown' I said 'Its a shame that vehicles have been over it in the wet and rutted it, it's been dry lately and I am leaving no marks am I. We are going to walk down to the village to see my Aunt.'

Seems he was from the farm half a mile away, he has known my Aunt all his life and is ten years younger. 'I just thought I would tell you because he will probably be out to have a go,' he said.

Later we all went back to the 'van for a cup of tea and a piece of cake, we were surveyed by passing cars, the car from the nearby house, then the woman from the house on her bike who rode back and fourth past us several times. 'I did'nt know she had a bike' said  Auntie.

Finally we walked her back to her cottage. Her telephone rang, it was the other farm along that road. 'Have you been in a motor home by Snob House.' 'Yes' she said 'I have been kidnapped, no I can't tell you that I answered the phone, it's my new ritch boyfriend we are off round the world.'

What a shame, with their treasures stored up on earth, come worries and stress about the grass verge 50 yards from their drive.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.

23 June
Today we move on. The barriers are being fitted at Sete and we have the honour of being the last but one campingcar out before the hight is restricted. We headed for Palavas, rather modern and uninviting, Next Carnon Plage, a 9km strip of beach lies over the dunes to seaward of the road. Next la Grande Motte, modern again, we droped our waste water (vidange) and filled up with fresh at Point Zero a  Municipal camp site quite crowded with families.
We took a look at le Grau du Rol, modern again. We decide on a vineyard for the night, the Domain du Petit Chaumont above Etang du Ponant. They have flamingos as their symbol on the wine bottles, we saw our first wild flamingos on the etang just before the site.

.
24 June
Today we cross the Carmargue. We headed toward Aigues Morts which lies on the canal with a casle, Then Mas de Argon where we had lunch by the Etang de Vaccares. The whole area is a nature reserve, there are tall obsevation towers for viewing the wildlife. We walked away from the 'van to do some observation and photography but never out of sght. We heeded the warnings about gangs of bandits who roam the region looking for chance to rob the unwary.
There were flocks of flamingos and the famous white Carmargue horses. The foals are born brown or black and go white over their first four years. At first I thought there was a crafty black stallion around

We moved on via vast paddy fields, on land which was re irrigated with fresh water, apparently France used to grow much of its own rice. We passed through Arles not as nice as expected from what we saw of it, with the Vangough connection, although we saw our first fields of sunflowers. We crossed the river Rhone and drove down to Port St.Louis to spend a night or two on the harbour.

Rhone cruises turn round at the port, a lift up road bridge allows cargo and pleasure vessels from the Rhone and the Mditteranean into the harbour. A superb beach sticks out into the Mediterranean, aproached via a 5km spit across yet more etangs with flamingos, 2.5Km of sand and real waves, not the calm shallows of the previous beaches.

(c) All material is copyright of the Author.