Tour de France

Now in from start to finish order. Please read on. "an inspiration"

People would ask where are you going on your 6 month tour of France? To Calais and turn left, was my reply. and that truly was as far as would allow the planning to go.

We spend our lives being organised and keeping schedules, even our annual holidays are meticulously planned and timed. We may go away for 2 weeks, one day is probably devoted to travelling there, another to our return. Often these travel arrangements are quite intense on timing and tiring, we get on vacation and boy do we need it. Upon our return we need time to get over it.

This trip was to be opposite to all this, intense relaxation was the priority as I was suffering from a chronic overactive thyroid which had run me into the ground.

The 'van is the approved short term for our home on wheels, in the UK it is usually called a Motor Home, when you get on to the continent that term will not be understood, to our EU friends it is a CampingCar. That is now my prefered name. In all Languages it comes out the same.

Our Grand Tour de France stated right at the end of April just as the weather was beginning to warm up. It was actually to Cherbourg and turn right, hmm thats the way we mean to go on.

Today I would probably not go via Poole Cherbourg, the Dover Calais prices have fallen so much. For a tour there is no time nor distance savings needed.

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We left home with plenty of time to travel to Poole, 24 hours in fact before the ferry time. With a Campingcar the holiday starts the minute you leave home, a nights stay in the UK before the ferry trip sees you fresh for the journey.

I had a final pay cheque that I needed to bank, I needed a branch of Nat West, the Far Cotton branch was on the way, when we got there it was gone. On to Towcester, no, Brackley, no, Abingdon couldn't find one, finally Newbury we parked, paid £1 and walked a short distance to the branch.

This must influence the choice for the traveler of a banker for travel funds. I had an Abbey National BS card, the monthly bill always seemed to need to be paid when we were away, and must be paid at a branch counter. A feature of our holidays became a search around what ever county we were in for a branch, no fun.

My final favorite that has seen me well is Nationwide BS there are branches everywhere and no fee for European withdrawals. Internet transfers of funds are possible also.

In the queue for the ferry I looked in the safe, a solid steel job bolted through the floor of the van and to the wall, in a concealed place, an essential item I believe.

Despite meticulous packing and checks. I found the passports in the safe, but no ferry tickets, imagine the panic. 'All' documents in the safe were removed by both of us and examined more than once. Then I found them stuck verticaly to the side hidden under the lip.

For many the ferry trip is merely a slow part of the journey to be suffered, to us it is a boat trip. After a time the sun got warm enough to sit out on deck and have our lunch, a mini cruise holiday.

If you turn right at Cherbourg you get to the Cap de Flamanville, we parked for lunch at a viewpoint near a power station the weather was variable but bright with sun and some showers. From here you could see Jersey, Alderney and Sark.
I thought it would be a good idea to look for somewhere to empty the cassette toilet. In Le Pieux in a car park was a toilet excellent for the purpose with a double size utility trough for rinsing.

Here was my first encouter of how different the French people are when you get away from the Ports and Cities. We had, our car broken into in Calais several years ago but we were always intrigued by the courtesy of car drivers there.

It was raining outside, I hesitate at the door of the toilet building. A lad 15 years old 'ish nipped in to shelter. He spoke to me, a sentence including rain. English I said. He spoke no English but persisted with my limited French to hold a conversation, his advice, Normandie is not the best vacation spot in France and this rain is typical.

"Camping Car "? he asked, yes I said round there. The rain stopped we said goobye and went our way. In England a lad would not strike up a conversation in a loo with an older stranger.

We headed in land to stay the night at Saint Germain Le Gaillard by lake with geese, ducks, a mare and foal in the next field very nice and much like England.

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Next day, the first of May we moved on to Carteret, a fishing harbour, fish crabs lobsters are sold on quay, there is large sandy beach. A navigation  light on a long breakwater, would be exiting at high tide. There is an adjacent car park for motor homes overnight stays are allowed.

We continued on to Granville. It was a Holiday our deisel was low, the  service stations were closed, a Hypermache on the way nearly saved  the day but an auot pay machine rejected all my cards.

We made it to Granville here we must stay. It is a very busy resort, at the top siide of town is a large car park with many motorhomes, at the  lower,  le Fourneau side we find a small hardstanding under the cliff,  many French motorhomes are setttled in for the night. The first time we have been beside the sea for the night we wake up to the rising tide..

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It is the second of May, weather blowy and showery, we are going to travel on around the coast and 'round the corner' to St Michael's mount. The petrol stations were open so we filled up and we were off. St Michael's Mount was bleak, horizontal rain was driving accross the causeway.

After lunch we carried on to St Malo it was very busy with little chance of parking. Around the coast was Rothenauf point, a great beach, too windy and showery to apreciate.

We pitch for night round coast at la Guimorais Ile Du Guesclin by wonderfull beach, in the car park between sea and harbour. This was down a road with a unique no waiting system, 1ft high 2in dia posts down the middle of the track. Access required at all times for the Pompieres in case of forest fires.

We awake next day to glorious sunshine, the beach is quickly exposed by the tide. Why should we go from this spot. Well there is a breeze blowing, it's jumpers on on the beach, the toilet needs emptying and we need water. Perhaps there is more paradise further on, if we head South now we can always come back later.
We head for Rennes making very good progress it is noticeably warmer in land. Can we make the Loire valley if we press on. We headed towards Nantes, off the N137 at Nozey, cross the Loire at Champtoceaux to stay at Domaine des Galloires near Drain. We arrived by 6.30pm, dined outside, the sun is now going down around 9.30pm. The van door was still wide open at 10.30pm.

I told the lady that up North in Brittany I had been cold, Sue says I told her 'I am a strawberry,' Hmm, must polish up the French.

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The vines are into second bunch stage and have not been pinched out. My vine at home will be showing some shoots. The view below shows the vines sloping down toward the Loire river.

We headed off along the Loire south bank there were several viewpoints at comanding high spots, there is parking provided to savour the spectacle. It was Sunday and hardly a soul about. Our next night stop was at Domain des Calcaires parked among the vines near Montjean.

May 5th. We are off to Angiers.

We need to go French soon regarding our gas cylinders. I had decided on the new fixed regulator system which hopefully will be standard for all Europe, only needing the connector for the country of use cylinder type.
I found a CampingCar dealer a small man and wife concern they were very helpful, Actually a Pilote dealer but they had spares compatible with Hymer so a new door catch was added to the list of purchases. In England such help was not provided by the Abbey dealer on my caravan under warranty. The poor chap spoke no English so had to put up with my French his wife was delighted to practice English with Sue.
He didn't have a simple fixed regulator but fitted one with an automatic change over, trying varoius cylinder sizes and combinations to find the best position to fix.

We took a quiet drive alongside the Loire north bank, stopping for lunch at Dagueniere where I took the opportunity of using the river wall to stand on to reach the door catch and replace it. We carried on to St Martin de La Place for an overnight stop on the banks of the Loire.

Here we met 'Marseilles' a lovely Frenchman from Brittany with his trailer and many 20ltr containers on the rear of his CampingCar, he was on the wine run. He gave us lots of tips on wine buying and tasting. Do not be afraid to walk away after a tasting without buying. Make it clear from the start how much you wish to buy, the producers will often want you to taste even if you only want one or two bottles. Do not pay more than 1 Euro per Litre.

He gave us many places to visit, one of these was Marseiles, "you will get there in the time you have, Marseilles oh Marseilles you must see Marseilles." I gave him his nickname he could have been Sauterne but Marsilles has stuck..

 A Dutch van joined us. Hello he said, in fine English, phew, you speak English, I said, I thought I was going to have to try Dutch. Oh yes, we do. We conversed in English his, very very good, we need it for business he explained.

May 6th

We set of on the Chateaux run. Saumer, Chinon, Rigny-Ussey like a fairytale castle, then Azay-Rideux.

Further south is a very interesting area. The limestone hills were quarried for the stone to build the big houses, and Paris. The caves resulting from the quarrying were lived in by the workers. The troglodite village of Villain has houses and a church which are facias on caves. The homes are still dwelt in, some minimal, some posh. Many homes are part of a Co Operative which weaves cane and basket ware. The cane being grown locally.

Just south of here our next night stop was in Chinon, red wine, country, in a vineyard at Lille-Bouchard we tried a sample of wine in the cave from new bottle, the owner gave us the rest of the bottle, 'for your dinner Mssr.' We filled up our container with 2001 vintage, cost 2.8 Euro per ltr.
 
The sun went down over the vines. We slept in the yard within reach of 6000 ltrs of 2001 on tap.

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I wonder if anyone has noticed that I have not mentioned the cost of our overnight stays yet, or the facilities provided.
The answer to both of these is nothing.
I researched the experiences of others who had toured in France. Particularly an Australian couple who did a long stay, boon docking.

With the campingcar we have all we need in the way of facilities, fresh water 100 ltrs. Gas. Electricity 12 volts 170 Amp hours stored in Leisure batteries, charged by a 4 Amp solar panel and a wind generator capable of 20 Amps in a gale but around 5 Amps in a decent breeze.

The shower is more efficient than many a hotel bathroom.

In England we use the CL's of the Caravan Club, there is a an unfortunate trend for these sites to provide electric hook up and charge whether you use it or not. The story goes that EU law dictates that electricity cannot be resold so the price must be inclusive. Electricity is thereby not being sold at a profit. Oh yes, so how come some sites now increase prices in the winter when more electricity gets used.

The French have a wonderful attitude, enjoying life is the most important factor and facilities will be provided. It seems that a French Campingcariste will stay the night somewhere as long as it does not say its forbidden.

Aires de Camping Car are provided, by communities to attract trade to the region, water and waste facilities are provided, sometimes free, if they want to provide electricity they provide a coin in the slot system and sell as much as they want at what ever price they wish. Some times they provide electricity FREE, yep that is my favourite word.

We discovered a brand new Aire in Normandy last year. It had neat stone walls with a window like opening to provide a river view, tarmac hardstanidng, grassed areas, tree plantings and flower beds. This provided by the locals for me, a stranger to use for free.
Not many days prior to this, before leaving home in the UK the road outside my home was re tarmac'd.
A previous burst pipe repair had left a chasm full of rubble which swam arround on top of clay. The contractors considered it needed re concreting, the council inspector confirmed, but each party also agreed that it could not be done properly as no one will want to pay.

Many Farms, Vineyards and other concerns are members of organisations that encourage camping and in particular CampingCars, that, being self contained need nothing other than a quiet,safe, secure place to stay the night.

Sheer numbers have caused problems in some places, hence hight barriers are being fitted to keep larger 'vans out of some parking places. In 2003 barriers were being fitted to some beachside parking places whilst we were there.
I decided to see how much free we could make use of, by so doing you meet the real people of France.

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7th May Day 8

There are many more sights and Chateux to see along the Loire, but rather than suffer from chateuration we decide to head south for more sun and warmth. It has been overcast for a couple of days and still spring like. We decide to get the south done before the peak of heat and people. A warm day was spent on the road, past Richelieu and Chatagneraie making it to Vix to stay the night at a melon farm. The owner arrived home to find us in her drive waiting for her, she was clearly shocked, we were very early for her season and the site not prepared, long grass amoung trees by a lake, still very pleasant.

Later in the year there will be a stall here and Charente Melons by the hundred will be sold. At the moment the is not a lot to see in the fields.
Little did I know that further in land was an old friend I did not see much of, preparing to move to the Charente region having just retired. Once I found out there was only one question I needed answering. "How big is your drive."

Next day off further south to La Rochele. North of the town is the industry and port. Ile de Rai is reached over a toll bridge too expensive just to go for a look so we headed up coast to Marsilly.A huge tidal bay with much mud, mussel and oyster rearing also carrelets, Large pocket nets dipped into the sea at the end of a jetty owned by the fisherman, with a shed at the end.

A long causeway of pebbles leading out into the bay gives access at low tide across the mud to oyster poles and mussel baskets on structures.
Up the coast a little further we stay night at a honey producers. A very helpful lady, with the now customary, red hair, (dyed). The red hair must be in fashion, we had already noticed the prevalence. Sometimes we would see 3 French families all friends, the women all had same shade red hair.
I think there is no foundation for my theory that red hair dye was a by product of Sadam's chemical weapon program.

9th May, we visit the south side of La Rochele there is free parking by the marina for Camping cars, they are restricted in town, ample signposting gets you to a huge area where you can stay the night. We biked into the old town by the fort. It is lively a with market, an artist drawing charactatures etc.

We needed loo emptying and water so we moved on to Foras where a finger of land extends into the bay, good beaches but the local characteristic of far retreating sea would restrict bathing were it warm enough.
 

Here we experienced our first wedding procession. The happy couple head the fleet of hooting cars driving slowly to the reception. The rear of one carried a gallows an effigy of the groom dangling from a rope. Hmm, I have never found it quite that bad. 

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I find humour in all sorts of situations, I will say sorry to our French cousins if the comedy does'nt cross the channel well

It is said that the French drive on the right. This is a mis-translation of dive to the right. They actually drive in the middle of the road. The motorist who is a coward dives to the right.

I am amazed by the young, middle aged and even old grannies who 'lose it' on an inside bend. So often a car will come round a corner toward you, the driver hanging on for dear life as the vehicle drifts across the white line into your lane. Is this oversteer or understeer, come in Jeremy Clarkson. I can uderstand the car drifting wide when taking a bend, I have done it in my youth, the vehicle being flug out as if by centrifugal force. How do they do this one though? They can even do it up hill on moutain passes.

As you get further south another characteristic comes out. The driver has one very brown arm hanging out of the window the other hand on the wheel as he streaks down the the middle of the road.

My most exiting moment was meeting a Smart Car in the middle of the road, as I descended a hill, round a 90 degree bend. There was no room for me, thankfully I was going very carefully, stopped and this time he had to dive to the right.

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That is mainland France over there.

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Oyster and Mussel culture abounds in the shallow waters of the coast, we travel further south filling up with water south of Rochfort, in a little village. We were caught by the toll across the river out of Rochfort, 6 Euro not a cheap bridge. I vowed not to use toll roads or bridges on our trip. Again the holiday maker needs those to get to the sun quickly, we dont. The motorways speed you past real France to meet your Brummie campsite owner who will have a nice Fish and Chip shop on site.

The next bridge is nigh on 2 miles long over to Ile de Oleron. Again the oyster and mussel beds dominate on the east and south sides of the island. Not on the west where the Atlantic ocean thunders in. For the first time in France we spend two nights in the same place, at St Trojan on the promenade. French campingcaristes assured us it was OK despite there being an allocated area. The allocated area has no sea view and it is out of season and this is France. Gendarmes on motorcycles do a late night patrol and we may as well not exist.

Around the coast to the south west. in walking distance is point Gatseau where the Atlantic breaks through preserving the island status it is beautiful but the winds off the sea made the eyes run.

13th May
Time to investgate the Island, at the north end are cliffs and lighthouse. The Grand Plage, on the west has giant sand dunes and golden beaches as far as the eye can see. There are several access roads through the forests. One I call Hitlers Road, it is as straight as a die from the port to the Atlanic, several kilometers. At the dunes are concrete bunkers and gun emplacements, 100 meters before that roadside pillboxes and more AA instalations.
Apparently there are 30 miles of sandy beaches around the island.

Our next night stop was in a designated area, overlooking the Atlantic with lots of French, one German van. Here the sound of the ocean is the background and the skylarks are deafening.

!4th May
We visit the capital of Oleron, St Pierre, it is a large village realy with narrow streets just off the center. We spend the night at a vineyard only a few hundred meters from the city center, a producer of Pineau des Charentes, after a degustation of White and Rose we opt for a bottle of Rose, supplied from the fridge ready to drink. If you are not familiar with Pineau it is wine that has had its fermentation stopped by the addition of brandy from the same grape. It is 'a bit nice'.

Next day we cycle into town, the market square has internet access available, my first chance to get e-mails, closed on Thursdays ah well.
 The  laundry bag in the 'van was bulging and the Lavarie was open. We didn't know the system but returned with the van, parked in a small supermarket car park and while we shopped our laundry is washed and spun dry by a helpful lady. She spoke no English but was used to the international point and say it again language so with our French we understood everything  that was going to happen to our varied and unusual load. Cost 7.5Euro.

When we returned the local Gendarmerie were out on the corners near their station handing out bags to blow into. One fellow with passengers a bit hippy looking did'nt stop too happily, blew in the bag and was out of the car round the corner to the station before we had walked past. This was about 5 pm on a nice sunny day and the third time we have seen a group of Gendarmes lurking at this time.
Another occasion saw them at the entrance of a holiday park on a Friday evening as the campers arrived. A grand operation with police arriving in a 40 seater coach. Tyre checks, towing wieghts, vehicle searches and documemt checks were the last thing the arrivals wanted, but what a captive audience, all queuing up for it.
I went to fill up with water just outside the camp, the coach was blocking my escape when I had finnished. A young lady in a bikini gave me 'dont get involved looks', she was driven off in her car, caravan behind, by a policeman. A policeman appeared from behind the coach and looked at me, I signalled that I would reverse out, he dissapeared, so did I as fast as possible. Would you like a policeman looking through everything you need for 6 months on the road.

Tough when they need to be, but fair, is how they have been described, apparently they have far reaching powers.

Otherwise the police do not show much.  The local van does an evening run down the prom at St. Pierre as do the motor cycle cops enjoying the evening air.
It reminds me of the Southwold chief constable who said if he dies and goes to heaven it might be a bit busier.

La Continerier is a fishing port. A fish seller did some animated Franglais to describe the cooking of Lagustines we all understand each other 100%.

We decided to spend the night, possibly the weekend at St Trojan with Langustines for dinner. I tried fishing as the tide swept in, I landed 2 School Bass the biggest got away at surf level, other good bites took the bait, local lug from the beach.

An 8Km each way bike ride to Le Chateux across salt beds was spoilt by rain which started when we arrived. They still produce salt by evaporation of sea water here. The Chateaux area by the harbour was being used for a horse jumping event, there were more horses than spectators.

Back for the night by the bay. It was a big low tide time so at night torch fishers arrived, even if low tide is at midnight they come. They spend hours wading out and combing the shallows for shellfish the chatter when they returned was energetic. It is a family weekend thing.

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Oleron Island is varied and beutifull, the Atlantic side is suitable for surfing, Jean-Yves and Sarah are keen surfers and have a Character Home to let for short or long breaks. If you would like to try the Island for a holiday to contact them e-mail :- surfoleron@hotmail.com 

The eastern beaches are more sheltered, lying between the island and the mainland. Again there are miles of sand and some small bays like a tropical paradise when the weather is good.

We vowed to return to Oleron and we have done.

Sue stamped her foot when I sugested we move on, 'It is so nice here I dont want to move.'
'Look we are on a tour, I will find somewhere else for you to build sandcastles.'

18th May
We carried on South down the Dordogne estuary, the widest in Europe and home to the Maigre, a fish with a big mouth and evil teeth, the boats go out and catch them as big as a man.
Talmont was our next night stop, a 13c town (hamlet) with defensive ramparts to the estuary and fortified church. Defense against who ? The French, aparently, this area was English, Richard 1 of England I think, its all very complex.
Next day was wet in the Bordeux region, we travelled via Blaye to stay at vineyard, Chateaux Fourton la Garenne. The vines here are carrying fair size grapes and hand pinching is a continual process.

Back to see the sea, Bordeaux to Marmizan. The complete journey was undertaken after 12.30 the roads were almost empty, we needed bread, fuel and some Bordeaux wine. None too desperately but all shops were closed for the customary 3 hours for lunch. We stopped at a few to confirm but doors were locked, shutters down and deserted. Many petrol stations are 24/24 but at lunch time the pumps are card only and they do not like the British cards. When will we catch up with Europe who have pin nos. on their credit cards making the much more secure. They have been so for years, yet in Northampton, the home of the Barclaycard, we are just trialing the system with TV publicity etc as if its something revolutionary.

OK its a bit inconvenient not being able to buy bread  when you want to, but it is a better way of life, we must adjust our ways and make sure we have our shopping before the lunchtime. Lets hope the big concerns like B&Q do not introduce the Americanisation like they did in England, so destoying the way of life in France.
 

Rumor has it that French farming is small and inefficient, One should look at the Gascogne region, we drive through fields of sweet corn for miles on end. The irrigation system on wheeled gantries ¼ of a mile long.

Whilst we are rumor busting. Learn enough French to get by before you make the trip. Anyone who says there is no need, they all speak English, has only been to tourist spots in season, when the cast of actors move in. We have found only one lady with more English than I have French, mostly if you ask Englais? the answer is non. In a month we have had a conversation in English only with two Dutch couples, and a couple from Preston.

We arrive in the evening at Mimizan. We stay at a municipal site, 'vans are strictly controlled in the town. Signs read "you must stay here and pay," 5 Euro per 24 hrs free water electricity and facilities, such hardship.
I barbecued fresh sardines for dinner. The beach was up and over the sand dunes and stretches for miles, we spent a while there but no swimming as the wind off the Atlantic was cool and oil is coming ashore in blobs, notices say increased risk of skin cancer from contact.

22 May
We move on down the coast to Contis Plage. A ghost town almost, out of season, wind blown sand covers the paths which were once 10 ft wide. JCB's have been at work clearing it. Mail boxes on posts American style show above the drifts, just like a snow scene.
Again the beach is oiled, but teams of workers with tractors and scrapers and hand machines like lawnmowers are out as the tide goes down, making a good job of removal. The beach is naturist to the north. I understand the beach cleaning teams are not short of staff.
 
The wind abates and the conditiond are so different, we swim on 23 May, the sun has a real bite and the whitest bits are burned on the first real exposure so next day it is avoid the sun on the beach.

In the morning a French couple who were returning from a trip to Morroco went to the water tap with his campingcar, put his front wheels into the sand over the side of the concrete and was stuck. We all willingly piled in to push, English, Belgian, German, French but it just dug in.
After a while a council truck came on site, a wave for him to stop seemed to be ignored, he drove past, only to stop and reverse into position. He had seen the predicament from the road and only came on site to help, a rope was attached, job done, off he went. The French mans wife, actually Italian, came over as we chatted after with bowl of ice, bottles glasses. I had iced Pernot at 10.00am nice.
 
At the entrance to the site were a young couple with kids in a caravan pulled by a white van. We and everyone else suspected they were itinerants. The many French on the site were quite happy with them. On  our last night I left the solar panel bolted to the cycle rack and locked with two cable locks as used for bikes, in the morning the panel had gone and so had the itinerant family. This job took bolt cutters, part of the itinerant tool kit.

The further south you go the more touristy it gets and as in all places there are those who prey on the holidaymaker, it is now getting into season too.

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24th May
A rainy day, we are day off to Ondres via Soustons where we stop for lunch by lake, we hit the coast at Hossegor, here there are more dune backed beaches a nice harbor area and promenade. Our night halt is in Capbretton on farm, "come back for another night"  the cattle farmer said in Spanishy French.

25th May
We were now near Biarritz we both wanted to visit there so we moved on. The northern, harbour end of Biarritz is called Anglet from here runs a cycle path all the way past all the surfing beaches to the town.
 
The favorite place to park in Anglet is opposite the marked campingcar bays and water point, against the River. Here there is a nice view of the boats and the river mouth out to sea. The signage is not clear as to the correct place for campingcars at night. It seems the situation is to be made clearer for the coming season and work to install height barriers has started
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We were joined here early on Sunday morning by a Hymer which had a for sale notice in the window. It was parked near the entrance where the work was going on. On monday morning the workers arrived with pneumatic drills, on checking they found no one alive in the Hymer and the police arrived, two, on motorbikes not much more than a moped. After a chat with the workmen they donned their helmets and moved off, stopping in ten yards to listen to their hand held radios. The leader signaled to his buddy that he will reply, having done so he gives some more gestures, OK, Ready, Off we go, they zoom off out of the site, a short blast of sirens as they pass a small car and off down the road.
A French camper watched and smiled, apparently seeing the same humor as me. A 'helpless woman or some little boys who do no harm' to be run in perhaps.
 
The Hymer has a notice attached to the screen during the day by council folk in civvies. They stayed in a civvie car till 8.30 PM to suggest the correct parking place to all new arivals, some French 'vans still negotiated the piles of spoil to park in the favorite spots.
The Hymer owner arrived that night in a car and read the notice. Clearly annoyed he spent a long time on his mobile phone gesticulating and describing his position between the correct lines in the parking bay, seemingly asserting his right to park and advertise his van for sale where ever he likes. After a walk down the harbour he repented and moved it a few spaces clear of the work area where he left it for another 24 hours. Again it seems that the citizen has the right as long as it is not specifically forbidden.    

We spent several nights at Anglet on the Quay returning there after taking the 'van to other parts for the day. Biarritz has superb town plages, shops, a casino, a bridge by Eifell crosses to a statue on a rock. Out of town beaches are grand with huge waves popular with surfers, some days there was scorching sun, others were overcast although these are warm enough for the beach. A few swims when the waves were good but not too fierce, were great fun in the breakers. There were  several heavy thunderstorms at night.

The police presence in the town is reassuring but not oppressive. A car parked on a yellow line in Biarritz for a short time, atracted a canine patrol van and several officers using hand held radios, no jobsworth tickets issued, in minutes the driver returned, the car was in a proper bay and everyone had gone.

4th June
 We took a ride down the coast to St Jean de Luz and Ciboure. South from here there is only one more port, Hendaye, before Spain. Here Hitler met Bernito Moselini at the railway station to talk of a pact.

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We developed beautiful bronze tans, the slow introduction  meant no burning or peeling. A UK couple from Devon returning from a short foray into Spain, not knowing where to stay in Biarritz, came to ask us if we knew of a place. We were reluctant to ask they say, you are too brown to be English.

The beaches are beautifully cleaned of the oil coming ashore from a wreck. Tractors comb every morning and men and women in civies walk the tide line with a stick and bag all day collecting flotsam and jetsum. Bronzed beauties swim and tan with no fear of oil on the bum. 

10th  June
Time to move on, I sugest we take a look at Hendaye and a short trip into Spain. Sue stamps her foot, she likes it here and does not want to go. Look we only have to cross the Pyrenees and I will find you some Mediteranean sand for sandcastles.

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10th June
We headed down to Hendaye, there is a nice tropical feel and Spain is just the other side of the river.

After lunch we went over the boarder into Spain customs are stopping the odd car coming out.  Driving down the Bidassoa valley to Bera Vera then through a pass back over the  Pyrenese to St Pee.
Not a long run in Spain but enough, the area is poor, grafiti strewn and confirmed what we were told about Basque Spain.

The couple from Devon that I metioned earlier had come back to France, he was a long distance lorry driver and used to travel, but he said he did not feel safe. Their passage through a village was obstructed by people who walked out in front of them and stood in the road. The experiences of other campingcaristes is so valuable. Many had said Northern Spain, Non.
An Italian who spoke good French and some English said Basque Spain is not safe. Likewise the Eastern Spanish border area near Perpignan. Here he said they breed little people to get into campingcar windows and hatch doors, bandits to rob.

Back in France there is a Basque influence still. The sign posts are obliterated by black spray paint, graffiti on buildings with X's and Z's in the words is common. On the tourist routes with view points white vertical boards have been planted at regular intervals with E T A on them. My feelings are these folk do not like other people or their own environment even. I understand they fiercely defend the mountains against development and tourism. Hmm I am a tourist.
We press on to a pig farm at Aldudes way down the Aldude valley and nearly back to the Spanish frontier. Wondering what we were going to find there. The views are wonderful we were surrounded by mountains, Ritch green, trees,. bracken and grassland. Birds of prey hover around the peaks and some colorful small species dart around near the streams.

There is a silence broken by hens, bird song and distant cowbells, in the evening the sheep come to lower pasture and the bells are louder and in greater number. The only down side is the heat, now we are in the mountains the breeze from the Atlantic has gone and it is very warm. We are very careful in the use of the insect screens on the windows but we have a visit from the mosquitos I have one Sue has half a dozen bites.

On the way into the valley we are passed by a white Citroen C15 van with only one side window a few seconds later he comes back the other way, strange. A moment later he is joining our road from a track, then there he is rattling across a field.
Yes there is more than one, they are everywhere, quickly labled the 'Basque Van', the farmers drive behind the sheep herding them from a to b and buzz around the mountains in them. In the evening three in a row came down from near the Spanish frontier.
Our night stop was near a superb modern pig unit with a co operative temperature and humidity controlled drying unit which was still under construction.
We purchased basque pig, ham, sausage and pate, after trying a sample, the flavor, superb. The ham is dark, ritch in color and so tasty. the farmer gave compaison samples. This, not from a Basque breed of pig is what you are used to. No no I said, what we are used to is slimey and more the color of that wrapping paper.

The local Basque pig, pink with black patches was nearing extinction in the late eighties, our host has been a pioneer in re introducing them. A mother was nursing nine tiny rubbery piglets near the shop where they come to be displayed to the visitors. They all live outside in strong wicker and straw teepees.

The closest town we came through had banners across the road, which read, 'people without work' there is a contrast between the people buying the produce and the villagers.

Small local Basque farmers have four cows and drive them down the road to milk. An old lady in wellingons and headscarf  waves a red flag on a stick to warn traffic. A man cythes the fields by hand to make hay, for how long can this way of life be sustained.

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11th June
The river that flows out through Biarritz at Anglet is the Nive. I have a thing about the source of rivers. The Nive bubbles out from the rocks apparently not too far from here. Engage intrepid explorer mode.

So we returned along the Aldude valley via St Etienne.

More hams, this is the old fashioned curing method, hanging under the eaves of the house. The river is running allong the valley we have just returned by.

At Espelette we joined the Nive valley along to St Jean and the narrow road to Esterencuby and finaly Bethrobie where the road runs out. Here the temperature was high so we parked in the shade of a tree to gather whatever is needed to take on a climb up the track which leads to the source.
A dozen cream cows blocked the track which was steep on one and side barbed wire on the other they are on their way down, not wanting to spook them we sat on the bank and waited for them to pass. After a few minutes baking in the sun they have not moved far, they like the grass on the bank. A young couple came up the hill, we joined ranks and squeezed by taking care not to make them jostle and push us into the barbed wire, not nice on sunburn me thinks

The climb is not too steep, after about fifteen minutes, the reward, cold, cold springs bubbling up among the rocks forming pools and cascading down the hillside, the relief was wonderful.

Our parking spot under the tree was the car park area for an hotel bar. We debated whether to ask permission to stay the night. It was only lunch time however so we had lunch and moved on.

Back to St Jean up to Chahara and the D918 to Mauleron Licerre. There are two viewpoints on the road but no parking places and no rest spots and still the boards planted along the road with E T A painted on. There are no Aires in this region with facilities for the Camping Car, no taps for the traveler to have a drink few camp sites are they trying to tell us something.

We spend the night in a parking place near the center of Mauleron with a French camping car, we would not have been there were it not for him. Evening was wearing on we had not found a night halt yet when we saw him. He seemed to turn off the road with a purpose, so we followed him, through the street and down to the Leisure Cente. The usual exchange took place 'je reste ici pour le nuit 'oui', 'c'est d'accord, secure,' 'oui'.

I sneeked the barbecue out round the back of the 'van and barbecued a whole fish in foil. A little aprehensive about barbecuing in public car park. We ate outside, behind the wall, in a garden full of roses, a young lady sang typical French songs. In the morning we looked around the town, the river runs through, deep, fast flowing and rock sided.

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12th June
We travelled through beautifull scenery to our next port of call, Arudy, via the D24 to Barcus and Oleron.
The Aire at Arudi is no more, so it was difficult to confirm the location, we asked in the town and were directed back where we came from to a rough open area near an abandoned bar and disco. There was no water here or signage.
We asked a resident, form near by, who confirmed the Aire was no more, he wanted to direct us to the next Aire depending upon our direction of travel. We asked, if we diregard the water can we stay here for the night. "NON" he replied, somehow we were not quite on the same wavelength, finally we established  the "NON" meant "No Problem" and we settled in with more mountain views, to be joined later by a French campingcar who this time asked us, is it OK.

The lack of facilities meant we must get water from Lourdes. On the D35 we saw our first snow on the  mountains  before we stopped for lunch at Lestelle. A pretty place with rapids on the river and sanctuaries alongside the road.

In Lourdes the heat was searing, the facilities are in the Leclerc Spermaket car park there was no shade, the heat hit my legs like popping them under a gril. The parts of my already brown feet not covered by my sandles were cooked three shades browner. Yesterday it poured with rain when we were in a shop, we walked out of the cool building, into a laundry world, where the rain meant nothing and the steamy heat from the path par boiled my legs. It is strange how the legs are still so sensitive to temperature and humidity, perhaps it is half a century of long trousers.

We were short changed on Lourdes water. Ah well, say no more. The bourne said 2 Euros for 100 litres, our tank holds 95 ltr it was 1/4 full when we arrived 1/2 full after adding the 2 Euros worth.
In the van in the shade that was available we measured the temperature 34 C.

Lourdes is not as bad as I expected, touristy but pretty. The center was crowded with people and silly gift shops. If Heaven is like Blackpool, then I suppose this is like Heaven. We drove through, down the main street, the tourist train shot out from a turn on the right, hooting wildly at me, I saw no give way to trains from the right sign.
We didnt want any badly painted chalk Madonnas, so we just drove through, past the grotto area with packed car parks to our destination, a honey farm at Begole among the peace and beauty of the mountains again.

 The farmer spoke no English but liked to chat, he was proud of his honey, four hundred hives, 'cases' and the comb holders, I think we call supers, are 'cards'. He agreed it was very hot but not unusual for the region, they have little rain and hailstones bigger than golf balls sometimes.
The mosquito precautions worked, but some little blighter bit me 20 times in an area the size of an egg on my stomach when I was outside at night contemplating the red wine, Oh that was sore for days.

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14th June
The honey farmer was also keen to promote his area, he recommended we visit St. Bertrand de Comminges a medieval village perched on a hilltop with access by car, and campingcar in low season. We found a litte shade under a tree for lunch in the car park at the base of the hill, before climbing the one way system in the 'van up to the parking square and a look round the ancient cobbled streets.
We then headed through St Gaudens to Serres s Arget in a valley with more perched ruins along the way, near Foix. Here after a look at the ville, very tidy as usual, we established where the Aire was, just outside the village, and settled in for the night. The surrounding area was marshland and lakes. In the evening the background noise was so loud, the frogs (amphibians), there must have been thousands, were croaking in chorus. We wondered if we would sleep with the noise, strangely they sang until precisely midnight when they switched off. The odd miscreant having a little go for a minute before there was complete silence.

Next day, Sunday morning, there was a fete for kids at the village hall which brought numerous cars. It was a nice little do with a  girl band, guitar violin drums flute, and a singer, and display of vegetable material marionettes.
We left for Foix it was still hot, very hot, we looked around the town then rested for lunch, we are now doing just as the French do, finding shade and putting our heads down around mid day. We were parked in the square, in the shade of a tree. A thermometer in town was showing 42 deg C. How do the locals survive this.
Well indoors in one of these cave dwellings just off the center ville would be fairly cool.

A cycle race was passing through the town. A young 'cadet' Maddame Gendarme was looking after a roundabout near us. I think she was a trainee her teachnique a bit floppy and puppet like. Between batches of bikes she stood in the shade and visited the fountain for a splash of the wrists. A call on her radio would warn her of another batch of cyclists and she would go back to the roundabout.
 The first police car we have seen in a town with sirens blaring and lights flashing came out from the Gendarmarie and stopped at her corner. They delivered a bottle of water and a glass to the lass, turned round and returned to the station. This is France and some things are important.

We moved on past Carcassonne a medieval walled castle type citadel that looks like a Hollywood set, why were there no gleaming brass helmets looking over the walls
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In the Plateau de Lacamp with the Montagne d Alaric to the north we reached Chateux Villemagne and a fine welcome from the proprietor. He showed us our parking spot, he found walking a little difficult due to a gammy leg 'jambon', funny I am sure we had some slices off one of those the other day at the piggery.
It was a fine spot on the edge of the vines which carry several bunches of pip size grapes on tall vines untrained or tied about 1.5m high.

We buy 3 ltr of Corbiers from the vat, 4.20 Euro dark, fruity and high in tannin after far too many samples,some quite vintage and very costly. As usual we explained we were wanting a stock for a few nights of a nice table wine, it made no difference, 'you must try this, it's vintage', we staggered out.
The Romans were in this very spot, the owner showed us some artifacts found on the site, pottery, metal objects etc.

17th June
We set off with the possibility of reaching the Mediterranian today, only to stop after 10 k to have a cool drink in the shade at Lezignan on a large square, not in the centre of town because we could not get under the low bridge. It was so hot in total shade under large plane trees that we decided to rest up and have lunch moving on again about 4.30pm.
 An old boy, the attendant at an indoor Boules pitch sat outside, as the sun moved he moved, to the a park benches following the best shade. He was joined by locals who sat and chatted for a while. What else can you do, how do they survive this heat.

Our first stop when we get going was a supermarket in Narbonne, a few spots of rain make no difference to the heat. Inside, it was huge and air conditioned, suddenly I approve of air conditioning.
Stocked up for a few days we move on to the Plage the other side of the Montagne de Clape. The Aire is next to the beach it is large, a gusty wind blows and the lightning flashes, it does not seem able to rain though, just a few spots.
Sue wanted to cool off with a dip in the Med. to be put off when we get there by a horizontal sand blasting straight onto the sea. The night was blustery but much cooler.

Next morning the baker called in his van with fresh bread at about 9.30. We swam in the sea, it was flat calm knee deep at 10 meters out and cool in patches, the breeze was stiff and kept up the sand blasting although only at low level and it was not unpleasant.
The area is all modern development in traditional style teracota and bright woodwork. I took a look at the rough guide, it says 'endless tacky development buffeted by a wind that would flay the shell off a tortoise'. If that tortoise had just come across the Pyrenees and survived being boiled in his shell he would like us welcome the breeze. It is 28C in the van in the morning 34C at night.

Next day we swam at the town beach, the wind is stronger and sand blasts the body filling the ears and nose. The local sun worshipers lay on a sunbed, the sand blast goes under them. I bet they don't mention the wind in the holiday brochurers. No photo, you would never get the sand out of the camera, it is still coming out of my ears. Luckily we are not booked for any stay at all.

We moved north. It became very hot away from the coast again. We stopped for lunch in the shade by the canal Midi.
Look, is that Rick Stein coming along on that barge.

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After lunch we moved on via Bezier, an old walled town built high on the hill which looked well worth exploring in cooler weather. We arived again at the Mediterranean, at Agde. The Cap is a modern area with dual carriage ways and roundabouts and no parking for anything higher than 2.2m. We found an on road spot to stop and take a look at the beach at least, then moved on to Marseillan Plage.
Here a 13.5km road across the etangs provides access to the same lenghth of beach with roadside parking. We swam and sat and ate until darkness fell. Camping Cars were staying for the night alongside the road. We were prepared to do the same, but a Dutchman said he thought it would be noisy and sugested some beachside car parks in the town of Sete. A large parking area contained many 'vans, we slipped in for a few days stay
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Much of Sete is modern, with inland waterways the whole area lies between the sea and the etangs (saltwater lakes).

Saturday saw us on a ride on our bicycles round the point to the harbour, then into the old town and up to the fishermans cemetery.We decided to climb the top of the hill to a viewpoint, here you get an almost 360 deg. view of sea, harbour etangs old town and new town.
A funny thing happened on the way to the cemetary. A well dressed young man aproached us and asked for 1 Euro as he had no money for food. I did not want to get involved, told him I had nothing and only spoke English, in English he asked for some of our bread, he went off happily with 100mm of one of our two baguettes we had just bought.

Once again, this car park was having hight bariers installed. No one ever complains of the presence of  camping cars, you cannot stay too long as no water is provided. I was amused to observe a French campingcariste carefully measuring a gap between two concrete posts with his trusty measuring tape. Satisfied with the measurement, he expertly slid his 'van into the scuba school carpark and filled up with water from their tap when no one was around. There are still survival skills to be learned.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.'

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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.

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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.

5th July
Our next stop is over at Malemort de Comtat 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.
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 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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

When the water treatment plant for the village needed updating they had to decide on the method. The Mayor said if we choose chlorine there is a minor risk of cancer, more importantly it will ruin the flavour of the Pastis at the local bar. UV treatment is 5 times more expensive but this must be the way to go. The water is like bottled spring water and goes down by the litre after the mountain ride.

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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.

Temperatures have been up to 45 deg C in the shade. In the morning, in the 'van, after a 'refreshing cool' night it is 28 deg C.

Jaques, bakes bread in a huge open air wood fired oven. Demonstrating the process to the visiting children.

He has the drafts of  his updated web site, we sit at night and  over a bottle of wine we translated some of the pages. He speaks superb English and knows what he wants to say. I can tell him how we would say it. It is a pleasure to help him, he is branching out with his activities and works hard with a fine enthusiasm. We buy some of  his bread, he takes orders for hot fresh baked croisants to be delivered to the 'van door for breakfast. I could'nt possibly touch them, cholestrol you understand.

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

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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.

So where do the kids stay when they are on their educational visits.

Down at the resevation of course, the adjacent field.
On one visit there were a large number of children, 'from a deprived city area.' They were delightful, quiet, well behaved took discipline and had self discipline amoung their peers. So different from our apprentice larger louts.

The photo above shows the flat plateu we are on, it is glacial, perched up the mountainside. It is ideal for cycling in two directions. Turn right and immediately you are on a surpentine mountain pass, turn left and you descend from plateu to plateu of walnut trees to the River Isere. Cycle north past the teepee and in a few kilometers you can see the edge, the land drops sheer to the pass with the road below. It was on this trip that I said "ugh I do feel ill ."

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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.

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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.

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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?"

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

There is a relief map table which gives a good idea of the task involved.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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. A farmer very proud of his flock. He booked us for a tour of the farm after dinner. Huge flocks of free range hens produced beautiful eggs.
What do you think he asked. Your egg laying hens have feathers, I replied, that notched his pride up one more gear, and so it should.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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..

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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..

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3rd September
Around the coast to Dives, Cabourg and  Merville. There are nice sandy  beaches here and some interesting houses too.

Along  the coast a little further you come to the Orme estuary. We turned in across country, missed Pegasus bridge, navigator re-training needed, arriving at Ranville. This was the first village liberated on the 5&6th of  June. Carrying on through rolling Normandy countryside then climbed up to St Germainde Montgommery, here we had fine views from the cider farm we had come to stay at for couple of nights.

A local speciality is a shot of Casis in a glass filled up with Cider. Well since we were there we tried it. Now that is a nice drink, very refreshing on a hot day but wow does it go to your head.We took a trip Into Vermoutier on our bikes next day, it is the milk and cheese center of  the region it has a large dairy market hall and a statue of the mother of Camenbere, the village is just down the road.

 

The town was rebuilt after the war only the church survived fire bombings.

The fire bombings were from a raid of 36 Flying fortresses in one night. Only local French were killed there were no Germans there. The fire station was first to be hit, the hospital was destroyed and its inmates and staff killed. The water supply was wrecked so the locals deserted the town.

A case of faulty intelligence reports, now where did I here of that before.

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5th September
Leaving the Cider farm we headed for Suisse Normandy via Liverot. Here we purchased the cheese of the same name, it has a distinctive cow barn smell when still young.

History lessons start again, we have to pass through the high ground ahead. The pass is the Falaise Gap. One of the D Day missions was to drive the Germans back through the gap and surround them. Roch de Oetre is a high rocky viewpoint, with views down into the river below, you can see its advantage as a defense position. Further on  the gorge at Clecy is very picturesque.

 We stayed at a goat farm at Montchamp.

 The owner is very happy to have camping cars on site. He is proud of his cheese which goes to expensive London restaraunts. Educational visits take place here also.

One regular visitor who knows about goats will turn up, if the Farmer is not there at milking time he does it all for him. Another Italian family cooked an Italian meal for the Farmer and his family, in his kitchen, while they sat back and watched. The Italians have offered a holiday stay in their appartment in Venice for the farmer.

In  the spirit of this international exchange, we boiled some potatoes to a pulp, simmered some brussels sprouts for 1.5 hours, fried some Walls sausages and offered a week in a caravan at Billing Aquadrome just next to the sewage works. We just cannot think why they were not interested.

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6th September
We leave for Ryes a British ww2 cemetry here lie some of the victims of the Normandy landings.

On to the coast at St Come de Fresne - le Hamel. Some well survived sections of the artificial harbour, Mulbery, have altered the lie of the once featureless beach.

I watched as two fishermen were beachcasting feathers for mackerel, they did no good. Yet a lone man in waders was casting a lure and catching regularly, popping the catch into a basket on his back. It was a bad day for me, I just did not feel up to fishing. Yep that is a rough day.
We drove to Aramanches to stay the night on an Aire.

7th September
It was a rainy, heavy drizzle, I decide to return to le Hamel at low tide with spinning gear, sure enough the tide cuts an artificial harbour round the remains of Port Winston. You can walk out on the sand to the edge of the lagoons.
 I used my Sea Spin rod and a 50mm silver bar lure. Soon I was landing 1-1.5Kg (2-3 Lb)  Mullet on light gear. Sue stood by my side, "there is one just jumped over there" she would say. A cast into the spot and wow, I'm playing another. One cast was just too close to the Mulbery, the concrete shattered the triple on the lure, huh no problem, I purchased some spares not long ago. With four Mullet in the bag, we can eat and store no more, I don't fish for sport, I eat what I catch, there was sure some sport there though.

We stayed the night on the hill (clifftop) overlooking the sea in the 2Euro car park 'overnight stays allowed.' Compare that with dear old England, there would have been a hight barrier preventing a campingcar getting in to pay £2 an hour in the day.

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9th September
Port Bessin is where the fuel was landed for the Normandy campaign, gerry cans at first, then using pipelines from the ships, 1,000 tons a day, prior to PLUTO Pipe Line Under The Ocean coming into flow. Such are the logistical problems to be overcome.

On the beach here, the longest day was filmed, the casino built and destroyed. The action really took place at Arromanches. We stayed the night on the Aire in town, there is another on the harbour but the road was closed for access, roadworks.

10th September
Omaha beach and the monument., St Loren museum, Verville s Mer a long sand stretch of Omaha beach, the monument de Moulins, Point du Hoc a German stronghold with many big guns able to defend Omaha and Utah. All have their sad history of bravery and death.

One example, the 225 men sent to destroy the Point du Hoc guns, on D day. They used rocket propelled grappling ropes to scale the cliff from the beach. They were forty minutes late due to the  tide and navigation errors.
The Germans had time to recover from the airborne assault, they were ready with grenades and small arms to fight them off. 175 who were left took the last big guns then sent a message 'mission accomplished send reinforcements heavy losses.'  As they were forty minutes late it was assumed they had failed in their mission, and the message was ignored, they were left alone for 2 days to hold the point allowing the enemy to re group. When the tanks finally arrived there were 90 men left.

We drove inland to Houseville for the night at a Goat farm.

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11th September
We visited more of Utah beach, Sainte Marie du Mont, Leclerc monument and the American memorial.
 

Then off to an Aire at Montebourg for the night.

12th September
We moved round the coast visiting Barfleur, where a Russian Barque was anchored, it is in the Guinness book of records for its journeys around the world, high priced souveniers were on offer on the quay to raise funds.

Then to St Vast to stay on the Aire.

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Just a quickie for now before we continue with the Grand Tour de France, which is heading toward its dramatic climax. Can you stand the suspense?

I got an e-mail from my friend in the Pyrenees, I make no excuses for pushing his B&B he has just started down there. It looks great. Do take a look at his site.

 http://pyreneesholidaygites.blogspot.com/

13th September
Next we moved up the coast to Gatteville. Here we joined a small international group of Campingcaristes, all of whom had stayed in this little bay before.

Brian and Sue from Dorset introduced themselves. Brian fishes at West Bexington, I too fished there regularly for some years. “There are potatoes in that field “ he said “The farmer has finished picking, you can collect what you want, there are Mushrooms in that field there. Down the lane, Blackberries and more Sloes than you can imagine.
“Right all we need is some fish then“ I said.

A fisherman arrived early each morning in the mist and attended his nets just out in the bay.

We tried fishing the bay, it produced no results. A trip around the headland found a rocky outcrop and a beach. Some Mackerel-ling was going on from the beach so we joined in. We saw nothing caught and likewise had no results. Something interesting was going on off the rocks. The locals were fishing for Garfish. We watched and learned the technique.

We moved our vans round to occupy the few spots where it was possible to park up. A trip to Barfleur for large ball floats and we were equipped. Soon we had the right depth and were landing Garfish 80cm long on each high tide.
We almost dined totally off the land and the sea for a day or two. Until the Head Chef gave the order, “do not catch any more of those green boned blighters.“ I never did take a picture of them, shame.

22nd September
We had been enjoying this spot for several days, taking regular trips to Barfleur for shopping and the facilities. It was still warm enough to swim. The quiet lanes were ideal for cycling. The open fields  had much of interest. An old stone quarry nearby had created a large deep pond, this was home to Rudd and they were prey for Kingfishers.

Of course the coastline here had been defended, concrete gun emplacements and block houses were  build, one or two of these have been converted into holiday homes. Now out of season they were locked and barred. The other vans had come and gone, we were alone with the views.

We were now just round the corner from Cherborg, one day we will go and buy a ferry ticket back home, but we had no thoughts yet.

High tide was at tea time, I went out onto the rocks and landed a couple of Garfish for dinner. The wind was getting a bit strong and the sky went black. As I packed up my gear the wind got stronger, grand for generating power. As the evening came, the winds increased the sea was rough and came up either side of our little spit we were on. Further than we had seen it before.

The wind generator started to scream, I put on full load, every light, the TV and the fridge which take a lot of current, the generator did not slow one bit. We decided that it would be better back round in the small bay, so two happy campers went out in pouring rain and lashing gales, lowered the wind generator, easy to say but quite a  game when it was bending the 35mm dia. pole and screaming like a banshee.

Catch a blade on something and the broken bits would take your head off I should think. There is a loop on the tail fin to pull the generator round out of the wind, maintaining that position took considerable effort. After this experience I have changed my mounting system doing away with guys.
The storm came off the Atlantic and there was nothing to filter it, once round in the bay it was much better. The storm raged but we were safe and sound.

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We packed the ’van and went to the Mairie in the village to ask the location of the nearest doctor. St Vaast was the place to go.

We arrived just as the Doctor was leaving after his Saturday morning surgery. He had locked the door and was about to open his car, bag in hand. He raised his eyes to the sky, busy morning probably.
The poor chap unlocked the door and led us in, other than skyward look he was unhurried and kind. Taking a look at the hand he advised there was possible tendon damage, better go to hospital in Cherbourg. I offered payment, the usual 20 Euro note, he refused.

Parking in the visitor car park at the  Louis Pasteur Hospital, there was lots of room and no charge. We walked into the Accident Dept. at about 3.30 PM. Straight up to a group of Medical staff. “Have you registered?“ Said one of them.

 “No, where do we do that?“

“That window, just there as you come in, never mind let us have a look, you can
register later.“

After the preliminary inspection we went to register, then to the waiting room.
A room about the same size as the one at my dentists, had 4 people and a colour TV.

Passport and Insurance details were needed, I popped out to the van to fetch them, when I returned Sue had gone. I sat down and looked at the TV. A French lady pointed out of the door, “Your Wife.“

There she was passing by the door in hospital gown, bag of belongings on her lap in a wheelchair. “Off to X ray, would you like to come said the porter.“
We returned for blood tests.

The Doctor in charge of A&E Spoke very good English he said, “We need a National Health System like the UK.“

“Oh no you don’t.“

 “Yes, but you see that young man who is just leaving, he had an appointment here on Thursday, he was at work then, so he came along today, Saturday, on his day off, can you do that in England.“

“Well having waited 3 months for your original appointment, only if you wanted to wait another 3 months.“

“But here they know they can do it.....You come from the Midlands...... My sister is studying in Birmingham...... At night she works as a waitress in a restaraunt called ’The La Ronde,’ do you know it..... I like some of the English TV,...... Monty Python that is really funny...... Now how did this injury happen“

“I went for her throat, I accidentally missed.“

“English humour, I love English humour.“ He told the rest of the staff in French, they eyed me suspiciously.

No delays, there was an ECG and off to the ward in a 2 bed, spotlessly clean room.
The tendon to her little finger had been severed and needed micro surgery, this was done at about 9.30 at night. She had general anesthetic so must stay in overnight.

I asked the man on the reception desk at the main entrance, if  there was any chance of me staying overnight in the car park. He spoke no English and repeated my statements back, as I  carefully uttered them.
“Your wife is in Accident and Emergency. She has had an operation. She has to stay in overnight. You have a Campingcar in the car park. You would like to stay and sleep in it overnight.............You are not parked in the Entrance are you.“

“No I am in the empty car park on the left.“

“But of course, no problem, sleep well.“

Compare this to the local man here in Northampton. He felt unwell, drove into the hospital paid £2 to park for an hour. Presented himself at A&E who found he was having a heart attack.  Later they transferred him to Oxford.
Would you believe it, the idiot did not ensure that he was re-transferred every hour to put another £2 in the meter. Perhaps he had something else on his mind.

He incurred hefty fines for failing to display a current ticket. Even appeals to his MP did not help, the parking company do not accept excuses. Finally a name and shame session on local radio made someone see sense. And he was saved from court and the £75 fine.

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28th September
We phoned the Caravan Club Insurance. One of the advantages of being a club member is the insurance offered, everyone says it is good. “When did this happen, you should have phoned us straight away we could have given you assistance.“

“It is only the next day, it all happened in a hurry, we managed thanks.“

“Always let us know, we can speak to the hospital etc. we want to help. Your insurance runs out soon are you coming home. Do you need assistance with driving.“

“No we can manage, I think we will be back to the UK soon.“

We went to the ferry terminal to book our return date. Then on to Barfleur for supplies and wine to take home then back to Gattteville.

30th September
The wind blew up for a forecast force 6-7 gale, I whipped the wind genny down from its new position with ease before it got too bad. The weather was changing, it was the time to return.

2nd October
We departed Cherbourg for home in the morning. Sue would have given you a wave if she could.

Arriving in Poole around lunch time we wanted somewhere to park up. The map shows a harbour side carpark. I pulled into a space with a view. The Hymer can fit into a car size space. I checked the notice board by the ticket machine.

Motor homes must be parked in some specific bays at the rear with no view, must pay twice the car price, failure do display incurs a fine. Here comes a yellow peril now, welcome back to England, forget it, we will eat somewhere else.

We headed north through Poole into a solid traffic jam. Stop start driving, covering around 1 mile in half an hour. When the queue moved, we all rushed forward, I was doing nearly 40 MPH. And there is a speed camera. Golly this is hell.
We are your elected Council, you hate us, we hate you and we will find ways to make you hate us more.

For 6 months I had driven thousands of miles, always making good progress. Seeing the slightest built up area you slow to 30 miles an hour, no problem, no frustration, driving has been a pleasure I have parked in towns, cities and villages, on cliff tops harbours and beaches without hindrance.

I turned off into a residential area, we had lunch outside someone's house.
I wanted a public telephone in order to use the phone book to locate the local Solar Panel supplier and find their address. I wound down the window and asked a gentleman walking by where I could find one.
“There used to be one at the end of the street,“ he said, “they removed that, there is another about half a mile up the road, that is normally vandalised, I would not send you there. Come to my house and make your call.“

There are nice people here too.

Traffic on the road we had turned off started to flow easier, we joined again, not far on was the cause of the hold up. They were removing cars from a head on crash, overtaking no doubt, frustration causes people to overtake where it is not safe. Two more families lives changed in an instant.

I have had more frustration in the last 2 hours than in the past 6 months. No wonder I am a grumpy old man.

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