26th March
We check in at the PAWS office and I take the dog passports and paperwork in to be checked out. They explain I need to bring the dogs. Ahhh. All was well and we proceed to boarding when one of the train guys pointed to a leak under the bonnet. I suggested and hoped it was the coolant which had leaked previously and he nodded and made out a long report during the journey across. Thankfully he didn't throw us off the train.
So we are home, or at least on home soil. It has been a fantastic trip. And now I shall read my blog!
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Friday, 30 March 2012
Sailing white van
25th March
My Birthday today although it would be impossible to tell. There is not much celebratory paraphernalia around other than some emails and texts, but we have decided to eat out tonight at the Hotel Normandy in Wissant where we used to stay regularly when I was a child.
We stop off at Wimereux on the way north to have a break, and walk down to the beach. A crowd has gathered. A poor sole has reversed his white van with large rib on a trailer into the water off the ramp, and then for some reason, followed the boat onto the beach with the van. The sand was soft and before they could pull it up, the tide came in! So now the boat is back on the ramp and the floating van is moored up floating 50 yards out!!
There is an Aire in Wissant so we drive there to check it out first. It is more than a mile from the restaurant, so we head into the village and find a car park which we can just about squeeze Wishstream in, and then go down to the beach. It is freezing here, with a sea fog and bitter wind. Walking back past the Hotel, we see there is a space outside the hotel which would take the van. It is pretty clear they don't want motorhomes in the centre of the village but we are not going to leave the van where it is and the Aire is too far. So we move to the spot outside the Hotel.
Actually it is great, as we can see the van from the restaurant and watch Kicker sitting bolt upright in the passenger seat guarding. He stays awake the whole time we are gone, and then climbs into his bed exhausted when we get back. A very good meal although the place is run down decoration wise.
We drive back to the Aire. It is dark, and late and just park up and go to sleep. A mistake. We are parked right by the road and around 5.00am the traffic starts. We have spent nearly 5 months away and this our last night has been the most disturbed!
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My Birthday today although it would be impossible to tell. There is not much celebratory paraphernalia around other than some emails and texts, but we have decided to eat out tonight at the Hotel Normandy in Wissant where we used to stay regularly when I was a child.
We stop off at Wimereux on the way north to have a break, and walk down to the beach. A crowd has gathered. A poor sole has reversed his white van with large rib on a trailer into the water off the ramp, and then for some reason, followed the boat onto the beach with the van. The sand was soft and before they could pull it up, the tide came in! So now the boat is back on the ramp and the floating van is moored up floating 50 yards out!!
There is an Aire in Wissant so we drive there to check it out first. It is more than a mile from the restaurant, so we head into the village and find a car park which we can just about squeeze Wishstream in, and then go down to the beach. It is freezing here, with a sea fog and bitter wind. Walking back past the Hotel, we see there is a space outside the hotel which would take the van. It is pretty clear they don't want motorhomes in the centre of the village but we are not going to leave the van where it is and the Aire is too far. So we move to the spot outside the Hotel.
Actually it is great, as we can see the van from the restaurant and watch Kicker sitting bolt upright in the passenger seat guarding. He stays awake the whole time we are gone, and then climbs into his bed exhausted when we get back. A very good meal although the place is run down decoration wise.
We drive back to the Aire. It is dark, and late and just park up and go to sleep. A mistake. We are parked right by the road and around 5.00am the traffic starts. We have spent nearly 5 months away and this our last night has been the most disturbed!
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Location:Wissant
The Somme
24th March
Saddlebag 23 c
Last washing day today to prepare us for the week we have ahead travelling around seeing family in the uk. We choose a site near The Somme, and buy a tumble dryer token as we need to get it all sorted. Gorgeous hot day today, although I gather it is hot everywhere.
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Saddlebag 23 c
Last washing day today to prepare us for the week we have ahead travelling around seeing family in the uk. We choose a site near The Somme, and buy a tumble dryer token as we need to get it all sorted. Gorgeous hot day today, although I gather it is hot everywhere.
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Dog stuff
23rd March
When I went to dog training classes with Gybo the trainer said that sniffing to a dog was like window shopping to us, and if we pulled them away all the time and stopped them, it would be mean. Gybo is a great sniffer and even more so this morning as she probably knows that we are headed for the dreaded. VET, that is. But Jc says, there is only a certain amount of window shopping a girl can do.
So we finally get to Cabinet Veterinaire de l'estuaire, 10 rue de vases. The vet speaks English and we have our ham ready to cover the worming pill. I am concerned that the pills she uses are a one size fits all version. Anything up to 25 kilos will be fine with this pill. Hmm. My Gibby is only 14 kilos. Why not give her 3/4 of it.? No, But she is the vet.
Big boy Kicker Dick, who is in his usual la di da mode, demolishes the ham wrapped pill in a nanosecond. The bestest, brightest girl, Gybo, sniffs it, takes it, swallows the ham and spits the pill out. We try again. More ham for Gybo, and the now slimy pill is sitting in her hair by the side of her mouth. Well, for me, she doesn't need the blessed thing. I wormed her 10 days ago, but the bureaucrats need that form. The vet suggests she tries, and within seconds has stuffed it, ham and all, way down the gullet where gravity would defy its return.
Back at the van, Gybo starts to breath quickly and she is clearly not happy. I look up this pill on the internet and wish I hadn't. Milbemax causes fitting in some dogs! Why doesn't the vet use Drontal like everyone else? Jc drives whilst I keep an eye on my poppet, and we make for an Aire at St. Valerie en Caux. Another sailing trip brought me here in the late 1990's. They have built an Aire right on the headland by the mouth to the river entrance which allows access into the harbour at high water. A really great spot, and the village is typically French. Unfortunately today is very foggy so bad visibility, but sunny and warm.
Gybo is back on form and all is well.
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When I went to dog training classes with Gybo the trainer said that sniffing to a dog was like window shopping to us, and if we pulled them away all the time and stopped them, it would be mean. Gybo is a great sniffer and even more so this morning as she probably knows that we are headed for the dreaded. VET, that is. But Jc says, there is only a certain amount of window shopping a girl can do.
So we finally get to Cabinet Veterinaire de l'estuaire, 10 rue de vases. The vet speaks English and we have our ham ready to cover the worming pill. I am concerned that the pills she uses are a one size fits all version. Anything up to 25 kilos will be fine with this pill. Hmm. My Gibby is only 14 kilos. Why not give her 3/4 of it.? No, But she is the vet.
Big boy Kicker Dick, who is in his usual la di da mode, demolishes the ham wrapped pill in a nanosecond. The bestest, brightest girl, Gybo, sniffs it, takes it, swallows the ham and spits the pill out. We try again. More ham for Gybo, and the now slimy pill is sitting in her hair by the side of her mouth. Well, for me, she doesn't need the blessed thing. I wormed her 10 days ago, but the bureaucrats need that form. The vet suggests she tries, and within seconds has stuffed it, ham and all, way down the gullet where gravity would defy its return.
Back at the van, Gybo starts to breath quickly and she is clearly not happy. I look up this pill on the internet and wish I hadn't. Milbemax causes fitting in some dogs! Why doesn't the vet use Drontal like everyone else? Jc drives whilst I keep an eye on my poppet, and we make for an Aire at St. Valerie en Caux. Another sailing trip brought me here in the late 1990's. They have built an Aire right on the headland by the mouth to the river entrance which allows access into the harbour at high water. A really great spot, and the village is typically French. Unfortunately today is very foggy so bad visibility, but sunny and warm.
Gybo is back on form and all is well.
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Location:Honfleur
Honfleur
22nd March
WHERE is that water coming from?? Leaking out from under the units as it did before. Hopefully it is just my bodgeit tape that held the pipe in place just needs renewing. NO, there is a leak in the sink tap. We try to remove it to have a better look, but because we have spent hours organising everything domestically to the finite detail, we have completely left out the tools we might need for the trip. Monsieur, avez- vous une spanner comme ca. I show him the size I need with my finger and thumb. He lends me a plumbers tool, which won't work. I phone The dealer in England. He says: have you left the pump on all the time. Me: Well yes, we are living it all the time and need water all the time. Him: well it's not designed for that blah, blah, could have had a flood, blah blah. When you leave the van blah, etc. Probably need a new tap. Me: Thanks very much. Bye. We now keep the water pump OFF, and it is a two man job to get water. One of us stands at the tap and says GO, the other flicks the switch, we get 3/4 of the water needed, and then switch off the pump and drain the rest of it into the basin. What a Pallaver. The quality of these fittings is really poor. Luckily we are nearing the end of the trip after which poor Wishstream will go to the dealer in Norfolk for a make and mend session I fear.
It is very hot today, and Jc and I take it in turns to go and have a look round the town. Lots of expensive clothes, and jewellery and I like it.
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WHERE is that water coming from?? Leaking out from under the units as it did before. Hopefully it is just my bodgeit tape that held the pipe in place just needs renewing. NO, there is a leak in the sink tap. We try to remove it to have a better look, but because we have spent hours organising everything domestically to the finite detail, we have completely left out the tools we might need for the trip. Monsieur, avez- vous une spanner comme ca. I show him the size I need with my finger and thumb. He lends me a plumbers tool, which won't work. I phone The dealer in England. He says: have you left the pump on all the time. Me: Well yes, we are living it all the time and need water all the time. Him: well it's not designed for that blah, blah, could have had a flood, blah blah. When you leave the van blah, etc. Probably need a new tap. Me: Thanks very much. Bye. We now keep the water pump OFF, and it is a two man job to get water. One of us stands at the tap and says GO, the other flicks the switch, we get 3/4 of the water needed, and then switch off the pump and drain the rest of it into the basin. What a Pallaver. The quality of these fittings is really poor. Luckily we are nearing the end of the trip after which poor Wishstream will go to the dealer in Norfolk for a make and mend session I fear.
It is very hot today, and Jc and I take it in turns to go and have a look round the town. Lots of expensive clothes, and jewellery and I like it.
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Thursday, 22 March 2012
Memory Lane
21st March
Normandy is clean, smart and in the sunshine looks like a great place to live. The houses are all different and very attractive.
I am on a bit of a wild goose chase today again going down memory lane. When I was young our father organised a two centre holiday. Trouville and Houlgate, staying in hotels. I remember the hotels, the first had an enormous single story restaurant attached to the hotel, and the food was disgusting. Apparently, although I don't remember, and probably wouldn't have noticed at 12.
So my Dad complained about his pork chop and said it wasn't cooked. They took it back. When they brought it back, it still wasn't. My Dad was a great bloke and a good father, known for his war stuff and all that, but he was quite moody and could get quite angry. When this happened you didn't really want to be around. In fact, you would know pretty quickly when this mood was likely to happen, and I think all the family started looking around for some space under the table. Within a few seconds, my father was standing on his chair, holding the pork by its chop end, and shouting. Can't remember exactly but questioning whether this food was edible in this restaurant and what a disgrace. We then left the restaurant and I assume ate elsewhere during our stay there.
From Ouisterham we pass through these places on our way to Honfleur. Houlgate is a delight. I remember the look of the hotel we stayed in, a typical Normany hotel, and there are now many of them lining the street, so it was difficult to identify exactly which one.
On to Trouville. A large town centred on the river Touques. We drove across the bridge and right into the town alongside the river until we reached the sea and then turned right. The riverside road is delightful with restaurants, shops and fish stalls.
Well worth a visit. As we got to the sea, the road climbed and I can't figure out where our pork chop episode might have happened as there were no buildings near the water. Further on towards Honfleur there is another village called Villerville, which looked to have hotels near to the sea, but the roads were too narrow for the great Wishstream. Or at least we decided they were, now that we are in wimp mode over narrow lanes. So, I failed in my quest, but just being there and writing this has brought it back.
Honfleur is gorgeous and the Aire is located on the edge of the town by the river, minutes walking to the hub of the place. With shops and restaurants galore, and great dog walking we will stay for 2 nights, and I have found a vet to do the dog cross channel stuff for Friday morning.
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Normandy is clean, smart and in the sunshine looks like a great place to live. The houses are all different and very attractive.
I am on a bit of a wild goose chase today again going down memory lane. When I was young our father organised a two centre holiday. Trouville and Houlgate, staying in hotels. I remember the hotels, the first had an enormous single story restaurant attached to the hotel, and the food was disgusting. Apparently, although I don't remember, and probably wouldn't have noticed at 12.
So my Dad complained about his pork chop and said it wasn't cooked. They took it back. When they brought it back, it still wasn't. My Dad was a great bloke and a good father, known for his war stuff and all that, but he was quite moody and could get quite angry. When this happened you didn't really want to be around. In fact, you would know pretty quickly when this mood was likely to happen, and I think all the family started looking around for some space under the table. Within a few seconds, my father was standing on his chair, holding the pork by its chop end, and shouting. Can't remember exactly but questioning whether this food was edible in this restaurant and what a disgrace. We then left the restaurant and I assume ate elsewhere during our stay there.
From Ouisterham we pass through these places on our way to Honfleur. Houlgate is a delight. I remember the look of the hotel we stayed in, a typical Normany hotel, and there are now many of them lining the street, so it was difficult to identify exactly which one.
On to Trouville. A large town centred on the river Touques. We drove across the bridge and right into the town alongside the river until we reached the sea and then turned right. The riverside road is delightful with restaurants, shops and fish stalls.
Well worth a visit. As we got to the sea, the road climbed and I can't figure out where our pork chop episode might have happened as there were no buildings near the water. Further on towards Honfleur there is another village called Villerville, which looked to have hotels near to the sea, but the roads were too narrow for the great Wishstream. Or at least we decided they were, now that we are in wimp mode over narrow lanes. So, I failed in my quest, but just being there and writing this has brought it back.
Honfleur is gorgeous and the Aire is located on the edge of the town by the river, minutes walking to the hub of the place. With shops and restaurants galore, and great dog walking we will stay for 2 nights, and I have found a vet to do the dog cross channel stuff for Friday morning.
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Mont st. michel
20th March
We step carefully through the sludge to the Mont in the morning. Very touristy and expensive. But an amazing place architecturally and now a World Heritage Site and we are pleased to have gone.
Decide on a camp site next so we can uck out, laundry and charge up. We choose one at Ouistreham which means we go straight across the bottom of the Cherbourg peninsula. The site is right by the river and has really nice grass pitches. BLISS. I am straight into the laundry and use the dog tethering rope to make a line. It is a glorious day and most of the washing is dry by the evening. Kicker has found rabbits on the riverside and wants to visit them whenever he is let out. And JC goes in search of provisions. A relaxing afternoon and a bit of sunbathing thrown in.
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We step carefully through the sludge to the Mont in the morning. Very touristy and expensive. But an amazing place architecturally and now a World Heritage Site and we are pleased to have gone.
Decide on a camp site next so we can uck out, laundry and charge up. We choose one at Ouistreham which means we go straight across the bottom of the Cherbourg peninsula. The site is right by the river and has really nice grass pitches. BLISS. I am straight into the laundry and use the dog tethering rope to make a line. It is a glorious day and most of the washing is dry by the evening. Kicker has found rabbits on the riverside and wants to visit them whenever he is let out. And JC goes in search of provisions. A relaxing afternoon and a bit of sunbathing thrown in.
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Maiden and St Malo
19th March
So, it is definately St Malo or bust today. Only 25 miles or so and we head for an Aire near the marina and old town. I was last here in the early 1990's with my great friend Vicki competing in the Cowes Dinard race on the 58' yacht Maiden. The boat sailed by Tracy Edwards and her all girl crew in the 1989 Whitbread Round the World race. Our race was somewhat different with 3 professional crew on board and 7 amateurs. But it was a memorable couple of days. The boat is stripped out inside and we slept ( although we didn't do much of that) in pipe cots hanging off the sides of the hull with approx 12" of space above you to the next cot. The galley equipment wasn't working, and I remember having a banana for breakfast. The sailing was exhilarating and we reached the finish on the Saturday afternoon, so had the evening in St Malo before an early start home on Sunday. Well, that was the plan. A couple of hours after we arrived there was a gale warning, and we had to grab something to eat and head back. We were divided up into watches, and Vicki and I given the early morning slot 3.00 - 6.00am with one of the professionals. So we saw in the new day with a great sunrise and an amazing reach home. The boat is like a thoroughbred and needs to be constantly taken in hand. I loved it.
So here again in the sunshine. Not such a fantastic visit. The moules frites at the Chateaubriant restaurant in the square were not good. Most of them had hardly opened and even after sending them back, they came back in a similar state. But the old town of St Malo is lovely, with a great beach, heaving with restaurants and a good place to visit and stay for a couple of days.
Next up is Mont St Michel and JC has found an Aire on the beach close by.
When we get there there is the familiar rubble and grey cement evidence all around. Oh no, even the beach has gone grey. The Mont is under serious renovations and obviously there has been gallons of cement used. It is all over the Aire and on the causeway to the Mont. we have paid our €12 for the night so suffer it as we want to look around in the morning.
Not a good decision. There is no where to take the dogs as the beach is sludge and there is no grass nearby. By the evening, the van has grey grit everywhere and we are thinking NOT DOING THIS AGAIN.
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So, it is definately St Malo or bust today. Only 25 miles or so and we head for an Aire near the marina and old town. I was last here in the early 1990's with my great friend Vicki competing in the Cowes Dinard race on the 58' yacht Maiden. The boat sailed by Tracy Edwards and her all girl crew in the 1989 Whitbread Round the World race. Our race was somewhat different with 3 professional crew on board and 7 amateurs. But it was a memorable couple of days. The boat is stripped out inside and we slept ( although we didn't do much of that) in pipe cots hanging off the sides of the hull with approx 12" of space above you to the next cot. The galley equipment wasn't working, and I remember having a banana for breakfast. The sailing was exhilarating and we reached the finish on the Saturday afternoon, so had the evening in St Malo before an early start home on Sunday. Well, that was the plan. A couple of hours after we arrived there was a gale warning, and we had to grab something to eat and head back. We were divided up into watches, and Vicki and I given the early morning slot 3.00 - 6.00am with one of the professionals. So we saw in the new day with a great sunrise and an amazing reach home. The boat is like a thoroughbred and needs to be constantly taken in hand. I loved it.
So here again in the sunshine. Not such a fantastic visit. The moules frites at the Chateaubriant restaurant in the square were not good. Most of them had hardly opened and even after sending them back, they came back in a similar state. But the old town of St Malo is lovely, with a great beach, heaving with restaurants and a good place to visit and stay for a couple of days.
Next up is Mont St Michel and JC has found an Aire on the beach close by.
When we get there there is the familiar rubble and grey cement evidence all around. Oh no, even the beach has gone grey. The Mont is under serious renovations and obviously there has been gallons of cement used. It is all over the Aire and on the causeway to the Mont. we have paid our €12 for the night so suffer it as we want to look around in the morning.
Not a good decision. There is no where to take the dogs as the beach is sludge and there is no grass nearby. By the evening, the van has grey grit everywhere and we are thinking NOT DOING THIS AGAIN.
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Location:Mont st michel
A decadent Day
18th March
What shall we do. It is pouring outside. I want to put the box on and snuggle up. But not at this angle. We haven't managed the walk down the river yet to the beautiful village of Port Dinan. But thinking about it, an Aire was mentioned there. On our way through the road works a man in a car flagged us down and said the Aire was back the other way. Excellent. We up sticks, find a supermarket and then wiggle our way back to the river and find the Aire. On pretty flat ground and it is free. Public loos minutes away. Sorted.
By this time is is lunchtime and still pouring. The place is very quaint, even in this weather, and we browse the menus posted outside the restaurants lining the river.
Difficult to choose, so we try the smallest that looks really sweet. Chez Bongrain. All is deserted in the street so no problem about a table. Errr, one would have thought. I open the door to find a small room with about 20 tables, and only 2 of them are free. I explain about the two dogs to the rather stressed looking waitress who says No problem, and we sit down. The dogs go under the table and are impeccably behaved. The food is excellent and we had the €11 for 2 courses. Jc had the Plate de Charcuterie and the Ham Hock in Mustard sauce and I had the Brandade de Morue and a crepe.
Back to Wishstream where we all snuggled up in the bed and watched The Red River, a three hour John Wayne Film! Ahhhhh.
Out in the evening for a walk along the other side of the river, and a drink at the very smart hotel there. Horreur, it is a Best Western, but very French.
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What shall we do. It is pouring outside. I want to put the box on and snuggle up. But not at this angle. We haven't managed the walk down the river yet to the beautiful village of Port Dinan. But thinking about it, an Aire was mentioned there. On our way through the road works a man in a car flagged us down and said the Aire was back the other way. Excellent. We up sticks, find a supermarket and then wiggle our way back to the river and find the Aire. On pretty flat ground and it is free. Public loos minutes away. Sorted.
By this time is is lunchtime and still pouring. The place is very quaint, even in this weather, and we browse the menus posted outside the restaurants lining the river.
Difficult to choose, so we try the smallest that looks really sweet. Chez Bongrain. All is deserted in the street so no problem about a table. Errr, one would have thought. I open the door to find a small room with about 20 tables, and only 2 of them are free. I explain about the two dogs to the rather stressed looking waitress who says No problem, and we sit down. The dogs go under the table and are impeccably behaved. The food is excellent and we had the €11 for 2 courses. Jc had the Plate de Charcuterie and the Ham Hock in Mustard sauce and I had the Brandade de Morue and a crepe.
Back to Wishstream where we all snuggled up in the bed and watched The Red River, a three hour John Wayne Film! Ahhhhh.
Out in the evening for a walk along the other side of the river, and a drink at the very smart hotel there. Horreur, it is a Best Western, but very French.
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Location:Dinan
All about water
17th March
St Malo or bust today. Over 100 miles anyway. The plan was to go to an Aire there or nearby and we needed to fill up today. The service point at the Aire here looks particularly unsavoury, and it is pouring with rain. So we set off with windscreen washers on full speed feeling rather low and realising this is the end of our blue sky 4 months! At midday I find an Aire off the motorway by a lake and we stop for a wet walk and water top up. NO. can't find the water. Actually it is hidden in a small cupboard between the large green bins on the other side of the Aire to where everyone parks. Jc fiddles about with the hose and is quite grumpy seeing as he has water dripping off everything and his new now old shoes are covered in mud. I hear some noises in the garage and some swearing. Apparently the screw adapter fitting for the hose is on the tap at the camp site in Lanton where we were 3 nights ago. It seems this is not going to be a good day.
I remember there is a Super u supermarche down the road. They are usually sited alongside a Bricolage, so up anchor and park up in the massive car park. Jc has gone ahead of me and I am accosted by an English couple asking if we are going back to the Aire, as it wasn't raining when they left their van there and walked to the supermarket.
So having bought much needed item and a bottle of Gin to calm the nerves, we are off with 2 extra passengers who live in Chatham. What a small world. They have good friends who live in Whitstable but can't remember their names!
After some lunch in Wishstream, watching the rain, we set off. But after an hour we are all fed up and whilst it was St Malo or bust. Everyone is now voting for the latter. We decide on Tadem next to Dinan. A medieval town on the river Ranche and 25 miles closer than St Malo. There is a camp site there by the river. Unfortunately, the port of Dinan through which we have to travel, (according to Jane), Is having major road works. So there is not just the grey cement everywhere but because of the rain is has turned to sludge. Also, there are notices on the entry to the village saying ROUTE BARRIER 100 metres, etc although it never was BARRIERED so we made it through. (probably because it is a weekend)The site is on the river, I agree but it is on the slopes of the river in sort of terraces. The walkway to the river is mud, slide, and slop and the pitches are at an angle such that our poor Wishstream flippers couldn't cope. (flippers being the bright yellow wedges that are used to try and level the van. So called cos when I first saw them, I thought they were a pair of flippers). So JC slept with his feet in the air, and I rolled out into the kitchen sink easier than usual.
The ladies loos were locked as there weren't enough people in. So I had the pleasure of walking past the boys using the urinals to the cubicles if I wanted to use them. WHICH I CHOSE NOT TO. And this is a 4 star site!
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St Malo or bust today. Over 100 miles anyway. The plan was to go to an Aire there or nearby and we needed to fill up today. The service point at the Aire here looks particularly unsavoury, and it is pouring with rain. So we set off with windscreen washers on full speed feeling rather low and realising this is the end of our blue sky 4 months! At midday I find an Aire off the motorway by a lake and we stop for a wet walk and water top up. NO. can't find the water. Actually it is hidden in a small cupboard between the large green bins on the other side of the Aire to where everyone parks. Jc fiddles about with the hose and is quite grumpy seeing as he has water dripping off everything and his new now old shoes are covered in mud. I hear some noises in the garage and some swearing. Apparently the screw adapter fitting for the hose is on the tap at the camp site in Lanton where we were 3 nights ago. It seems this is not going to be a good day.
I remember there is a Super u supermarche down the road. They are usually sited alongside a Bricolage, so up anchor and park up in the massive car park. Jc has gone ahead of me and I am accosted by an English couple asking if we are going back to the Aire, as it wasn't raining when they left their van there and walked to the supermarket.
So having bought much needed item and a bottle of Gin to calm the nerves, we are off with 2 extra passengers who live in Chatham. What a small world. They have good friends who live in Whitstable but can't remember their names!
After some lunch in Wishstream, watching the rain, we set off. But after an hour we are all fed up and whilst it was St Malo or bust. Everyone is now voting for the latter. We decide on Tadem next to Dinan. A medieval town on the river Ranche and 25 miles closer than St Malo. There is a camp site there by the river. Unfortunately, the port of Dinan through which we have to travel, (according to Jane), Is having major road works. So there is not just the grey cement everywhere but because of the rain is has turned to sludge. Also, there are notices on the entry to the village saying ROUTE BARRIER 100 metres, etc although it never was BARRIERED so we made it through. (probably because it is a weekend)The site is on the river, I agree but it is on the slopes of the river in sort of terraces. The walkway to the river is mud, slide, and slop and the pitches are at an angle such that our poor Wishstream flippers couldn't cope. (flippers being the bright yellow wedges that are used to try and level the van. So called cos when I first saw them, I thought they were a pair of flippers). So JC slept with his feet in the air, and I rolled out into the kitchen sink easier than usual.
The ladies loos were locked as there weren't enough people in. So I had the pleasure of walking past the boys using the urinals to the cubicles if I wanted to use them. WHICH I CHOSE NOT TO. And this is a 4 star site!
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Location:Tadem
Cockle shells and warming cockles
16th March
The Gironde river is famous for its association with the Cockleshell Heroes, the team of Royal Marines led by Blondie Hasler whose plan was to canoe seventy miles up river to Bordeaux and attach mines to the German ships there. The river at the mouth is lined by sand dunes where Hasler would have hidden overnight and the Aire in which we camped last night was next to this beach.
We took the ferry this morning across the river to Royan. A first for the pups as we crossed the channel by Eurotunnel. There is no reservation system. You just turn up, but the boat is quite large and whilst there were 3 camper vans, a couple of lorries and a handful of cars, it was virtually empty. We decided to take the dogs with us and sit on deck with them as they weren't allowed inside the lounge bit. But we hadn't counted in the weather. The morning never really broke. It was a pea soup fog morning, and freezing cold.
The door to the interior is accessed by a large push knob which is sited next to double doors. Under this knob there is a NO DOGS sign. I went inside to have look round, and turn into a spacious lounge. The first think I see is a dog sitting by his master. In Franglais I ask if dogs are ok inside. Oui, Oui, says the woman sitting next to the man. No problem. So we sit inside in luxury. And the pups are very well behaved. Bizarre.
Driving north in the fog, I noticed a sign mentioning Cognac. Are we in Cognac country then?, I ask the font of all alcohol knowledge. Affirmative. We then see a "cave de Cognac". BRAKE. turn right and park up. Within minutes we are inside. Monsieur is very kind and soon JC has ordered a bottle. Monsieur's son arrives. He speaks English. " have you tried this. It is a bit like a port?" Hmmm. It was. " and what about this one?" ummm, yumm, that is nice too! And perhaps this one? Jc sensibly sipped each one, whereas because I was so cold and it was warming my cockles, I guzzled the lot. We came away with 3 bottles of something and some strawberry mustard. Jc had to take over driving. It was a nice interlude.
We are heading towards Nantes. Apparently the 3rd biggest city in France. Unfortunately we can't find any Airs or large car parks so have decided to bypass it, and we opt for an Aire in a village called St Phillbert de Grand Lieu. No reason really except that I feel we have been sitting in the van too much in the evenings and we need a place near to some civilisation and hopefully a good restaurant.
A long drive and as we pull into the Aire which is as usual by a river, we look at each other. no shops or bars round here! I take the dogs whilst JC does a recce and comes back triumphant. There is a hotel in town and its restaurant called The Brasserie is open. And they are ok about us bringing the pups. Great. We both change and i wear my new totty boots which make me 6ft high and feel like I am wobbling about on them. Jc thinks they're great great as i am taller than him and have tomsort of lean on him. Especially after a few glasses. We move the van to a good place really close to the restaurant. As it is so close, we decide to leave the pups in the car.
The restaurant is a real surprise. Full of smart people and we are greeted by the most adorable dog that looks just like Gybo only enormously fat. Ahhha, a restaurant chien!
The meal was excellent and lovely not to have to fret about dogs under the table.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The Gironde river is famous for its association with the Cockleshell Heroes, the team of Royal Marines led by Blondie Hasler whose plan was to canoe seventy miles up river to Bordeaux and attach mines to the German ships there. The river at the mouth is lined by sand dunes where Hasler would have hidden overnight and the Aire in which we camped last night was next to this beach.
We took the ferry this morning across the river to Royan. A first for the pups as we crossed the channel by Eurotunnel. There is no reservation system. You just turn up, but the boat is quite large and whilst there were 3 camper vans, a couple of lorries and a handful of cars, it was virtually empty. We decided to take the dogs with us and sit on deck with them as they weren't allowed inside the lounge bit. But we hadn't counted in the weather. The morning never really broke. It was a pea soup fog morning, and freezing cold.
The door to the interior is accessed by a large push knob which is sited next to double doors. Under this knob there is a NO DOGS sign. I went inside to have look round, and turn into a spacious lounge. The first think I see is a dog sitting by his master. In Franglais I ask if dogs are ok inside. Oui, Oui, says the woman sitting next to the man. No problem. So we sit inside in luxury. And the pups are very well behaved. Bizarre.
Driving north in the fog, I noticed a sign mentioning Cognac. Are we in Cognac country then?, I ask the font of all alcohol knowledge. Affirmative. We then see a "cave de Cognac". BRAKE. turn right and park up. Within minutes we are inside. Monsieur is very kind and soon JC has ordered a bottle. Monsieur's son arrives. He speaks English. " have you tried this. It is a bit like a port?" Hmmm. It was. " and what about this one?" ummm, yumm, that is nice too! And perhaps this one? Jc sensibly sipped each one, whereas because I was so cold and it was warming my cockles, I guzzled the lot. We came away with 3 bottles of something and some strawberry mustard. Jc had to take over driving. It was a nice interlude.
We are heading towards Nantes. Apparently the 3rd biggest city in France. Unfortunately we can't find any Airs or large car parks so have decided to bypass it, and we opt for an Aire in a village called St Phillbert de Grand Lieu. No reason really except that I feel we have been sitting in the van too much in the evenings and we need a place near to some civilisation and hopefully a good restaurant.
A long drive and as we pull into the Aire which is as usual by a river, we look at each other. no shops or bars round here! I take the dogs whilst JC does a recce and comes back triumphant. There is a hotel in town and its restaurant called The Brasserie is open. And they are ok about us bringing the pups. Great. We both change and i wear my new totty boots which make me 6ft high and feel like I am wobbling about on them. Jc thinks they're great great as i am taller than him and have tomsort of lean on him. Especially after a few glasses. We move the van to a good place really close to the restaurant. As it is so close, we decide to leave the pups in the car.
The restaurant is a real surprise. Full of smart people and we are greeted by the most adorable dog that looks just like Gybo only enormously fat. Ahhha, a restaurant chien!
The meal was excellent and lovely not to have to fret about dogs under the table.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:St Phillbert de Grand Lieu
Friday, 16 March 2012
The price of fish
Saddlebag 22c
15th March
Last night there was a programme called The Apprentice Fisherman. A novice has been lent a small fishing boat in Cornwall. Fascinating. Well I thought so. He was talking about the price and prestige of fish and shellfish and how difficult it is to get the Brits interested compared to the French. He talked about Spider crabs caught in Cornwall selling at €8 a kilo in France and in England.... Well no one has even heard of them, so they are not really for sale. Even ordinary crabs can't be found in supermarkets who just pay lip service to their fish counters ( my words).
We have loved the Carrefours, and Intermarches here and despite the acknowledgement that they were very good on our way down, we both feel they are even better on our way back. This might be to do with having spent a long time in Spain/portugal, or simply that the stores are even better on the west coast. The fish counter in the Intermarche in Lanton is fantastic compared to the size of the village and store. It has every fish and shell fish you could ever want including white shrimps, brown shrimps, three sizes of prawns, crab, lobster and all the usual white fish as well as the Spider crab at €8 a kilo!
So having bought a good sized lemon sole for me at €3 and a steak for JC we are set for a good sups tonight
We have decided to drive along the spur to the North west of Bordeaux and take the ferry across the Gironde from Verdon to Royan. This is a yellow road but as straight as a die, and in good condition ( according to Gybo who spent most of the drive on the 3 peaks cushion between our seats), Flanked by forests of pine and interspersed with small, attractive villages, it was a good Wishstreaming day. We are both really impressed with this area, and if we were looking to buy out here this would be our starting point.
Finally found the Aire at Verdon, despite Janes's help, where you need a token!! for water. Luckily we are topped up.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
15th March
Last night there was a programme called The Apprentice Fisherman. A novice has been lent a small fishing boat in Cornwall. Fascinating. Well I thought so. He was talking about the price and prestige of fish and shellfish and how difficult it is to get the Brits interested compared to the French. He talked about Spider crabs caught in Cornwall selling at €8 a kilo in France and in England.... Well no one has even heard of them, so they are not really for sale. Even ordinary crabs can't be found in supermarkets who just pay lip service to their fish counters ( my words).
We have loved the Carrefours, and Intermarches here and despite the acknowledgement that they were very good on our way down, we both feel they are even better on our way back. This might be to do with having spent a long time in Spain/portugal, or simply that the stores are even better on the west coast. The fish counter in the Intermarche in Lanton is fantastic compared to the size of the village and store. It has every fish and shell fish you could ever want including white shrimps, brown shrimps, three sizes of prawns, crab, lobster and all the usual white fish as well as the Spider crab at €8 a kilo!
So having bought a good sized lemon sole for me at €3 and a steak for JC we are set for a good sups tonight
We have decided to drive along the spur to the North west of Bordeaux and take the ferry across the Gironde from Verdon to Royan. This is a yellow road but as straight as a die, and in good condition ( according to Gybo who spent most of the drive on the 3 peaks cushion between our seats), Flanked by forests of pine and interspersed with small, attractive villages, it was a good Wishstreaming day. We are both really impressed with this area, and if we were looking to buy out here this would be our starting point.
Finally found the Aire at Verdon, despite Janes's help, where you need a token!! for water. Luckily we are topped up.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Verdon
Clean and relaxed
14th March
Because the whole van needs to be spring cleaned again, we decide to stay for the day and Jc was told that the contractors would not be coming today. However, he makes it clear that we have cementy mud all over the floor to the Reception and they agree to waive the nights fee.
After the clean up we walked out to the Bassin and along the shore to the tiny marina at Cassy.
A really interesting little place that reminded me of the harbour at Whitstable, with old oyster sheds down one side and trendy houses on the other. There are 3 or 4 restaurants and whilst closed at this time of the year, I expect it is a popular spot in the summer.
A very enjoyable and relaxing day with lots of talk about what we are going to do when we get back. Talk though. Not much else.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Because the whole van needs to be spring cleaned again, we decide to stay for the day and Jc was told that the contractors would not be coming today. However, he makes it clear that we have cementy mud all over the floor to the Reception and they agree to waive the nights fee.
After the clean up we walked out to the Bassin and along the shore to the tiny marina at Cassy.
A really interesting little place that reminded me of the harbour at Whitstable, with old oyster sheds down one side and trendy houses on the other. There are 3 or 4 restaurants and whilst closed at this time of the year, I expect it is a popular spot in the summer.
A very enjoyable and relaxing day with lots of talk about what we are going to do when we get back. Talk though. Not much else.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
More Rubble and Trouble
Saddlebag 20c
13th March
The kind lady at the garage has a solid looking adapter which she lends us for the GPL fuelling and all goes well.
We need to do some washing so opt for a campsite which sits on the north side of the Bassin, at Lanton. It is enormous. Probably more than all the other ones we have stayed at put together. Has its own lake and hundreds of chalet style mobile homes with gardens. As usual we arrive at lunchtime so reception is closed till 3.00 but the barrier is open. We motor in and though the chalets and out to the beach area and park up in the glorious sunshine for lunch.
We come back at 3.00 and on reception is a nice guy who speaks a little English. You can park anywhere, there is no one else here. There is electrics and water everywhere.
Jc goes in to pay, and comes out with a map explaining to me where we are to go. Oh, ok I thought we could go anywhere. We drive round and then round and then round, ROUND, and finally end up in the garden of one of the chalets. There are NO electricity points. I get out and walk to reception.
Ahhh, I told your husband that is NOT a good area to park. You should go past the shower block. I say. But you said we could park anywhere. He shook his head.
We move to a place right by the shower block with a tap that isn't locked off oddly, and there is one plug socket left on the board. We settle in. Jc organises some washing and brings some wet jumpers back to hang out to dry over our chairs sitting in the sun. I have noticed tractors, diggers, and trucks around and suddenly the background whirring noise is getting much closer. I walk around the corner to see the tractor pulling a trailer of gravel coated in cement powder being followed by a small roller truck. There was dust pouring off everywhere and they are now about 10 yards to the corner where we are parked. There is no time to get back to reception so I try using some franglais. Firstly it is difficult to get anyone's attention with all the noise going on, but standing in the road does the trick. The tractor man stops and pulls his window back, and finally stops the engine. I explain as best I can that we are on holiday and are paying to stay in this lovely location. We are resting up 10 yards round the corner and have most of our bedding and clothes hanging out to dry. By this time, Monsieur the Manager is shouting at him to start up and get on. The tractor driver apologises Nd explains he has todo his job. So i try on Monsieur. NOPE. he won't even listen. He waves me out of the way and the entourage carries on. I am now not bothering with Franglais. It is just Anglais and most of it not very ladylike.
When I enter the Reception office, it is empty. The door makes a small ding when it opens so I open it four or five times and then see a bell on the wall, so that is given a thorough seeing to. When my nice man arrives, he is saying something in french like Calm down, and can obviously see the steam coming out of his ears. This time I speak the queens English at some decibels and cover all issues. We have spent 2 hours trying to find somewhere to park in the site. There is no electricity on most pitches and almost all of the water taps are locked. We have now parked finally where we have been told to, apparently in the area where he must know that someone is repairing the paths with all the horrendous noise, dust, and mess that will produce. I explained that we are expected to pay for this and that I am FURIOUS.
His answer. I am French. You need to speak a little slower for me. But it is ok. I will give you your money back.
I walked out and burst into tears.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
13th March
The kind lady at the garage has a solid looking adapter which she lends us for the GPL fuelling and all goes well.
We need to do some washing so opt for a campsite which sits on the north side of the Bassin, at Lanton. It is enormous. Probably more than all the other ones we have stayed at put together. Has its own lake and hundreds of chalet style mobile homes with gardens. As usual we arrive at lunchtime so reception is closed till 3.00 but the barrier is open. We motor in and though the chalets and out to the beach area and park up in the glorious sunshine for lunch.
We come back at 3.00 and on reception is a nice guy who speaks a little English. You can park anywhere, there is no one else here. There is electrics and water everywhere.
Jc goes in to pay, and comes out with a map explaining to me where we are to go. Oh, ok I thought we could go anywhere. We drive round and then round and then round, ROUND, and finally end up in the garden of one of the chalets. There are NO electricity points. I get out and walk to reception.
Ahhh, I told your husband that is NOT a good area to park. You should go past the shower block. I say. But you said we could park anywhere. He shook his head.
We move to a place right by the shower block with a tap that isn't locked off oddly, and there is one plug socket left on the board. We settle in. Jc organises some washing and brings some wet jumpers back to hang out to dry over our chairs sitting in the sun. I have noticed tractors, diggers, and trucks around and suddenly the background whirring noise is getting much closer. I walk around the corner to see the tractor pulling a trailer of gravel coated in cement powder being followed by a small roller truck. There was dust pouring off everywhere and they are now about 10 yards to the corner where we are parked. There is no time to get back to reception so I try using some franglais. Firstly it is difficult to get anyone's attention with all the noise going on, but standing in the road does the trick. The tractor man stops and pulls his window back, and finally stops the engine. I explain as best I can that we are on holiday and are paying to stay in this lovely location. We are resting up 10 yards round the corner and have most of our bedding and clothes hanging out to dry. By this time, Monsieur the Manager is shouting at him to start up and get on. The tractor driver apologises Nd explains he has todo his job. So i try on Monsieur. NOPE. he won't even listen. He waves me out of the way and the entourage carries on. I am now not bothering with Franglais. It is just Anglais and most of it not very ladylike.
When I enter the Reception office, it is empty. The door makes a small ding when it opens so I open it four or five times and then see a bell on the wall, so that is given a thorough seeing to. When my nice man arrives, he is saying something in french like Calm down, and can obviously see the steam coming out of his ears. This time I speak the queens English at some decibels and cover all issues. We have spent 2 hours trying to find somewhere to park in the site. There is no electricity on most pitches and almost all of the water taps are locked. We have now parked finally where we have been told to, apparently in the area where he must know that someone is repairing the paths with all the horrendous noise, dust, and mess that will produce. I explained that we are expected to pay for this and that I am FURIOUS.
His answer. I am French. You need to speak a little slower for me. But it is ok. I will give you your money back.
I walked out and burst into tears.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Lanton
The tallest sand dune in Europe
12th March
Knowing now that "one man's meat can be another man's poison" or something, l think that we do not share the same taste in things as our Scottish friends. They have also suggested a visit to the Dune de Pyla, Arcachon, and other places around the large Basin d'arcachon. Should we bother to visit? Well, we are passing the sand dune. We might take a look. Really lucky we did. It is an amazing natural phenomena. The tallest sand dune in Europe at 103 metres high and approximately 3 km long. When you approach it from the side it is difficult to get the whole perspective of its height and you see people wearily climbing up it, or sitting to have a rest. And you think, how difficult can that be? So we tried and it was surprisingly difficult. The sand just gives way under your feet, so every step you take is only about half. The most northern slope is incredibly steep. So much so that I wouldn't go near it. However, we plodded our way up the side. We let the pups off their leads and they tear up and down as if it were on the flat thoroughly enjoying themselves and getting in everyone's way. Once over the ridge at the top, the views are fantastic. We are both so glad we saw it. In England I doubt if you would be allowed to climb something like this because of Health and Safety or the edges would somehow be roped off although that would not be easy.
So, with our new found confidence in our Scottish advisors, it is on to Arcachon and the Aire in the town which happens to be next to a fuel station selling GPL. So we can look forward to that drama in the morning. It is a short walk from the Aire to the muddy shore of the Basin de Arcachon. An area of 150 square km covered by the sea at high tide, and only a third of this at low tide. It reminds me of the the East coast and has a big oyster business here. A great half hour spent watching the oyster boats coming up the creek as the sun goes down.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Knowing now that "one man's meat can be another man's poison" or something, l think that we do not share the same taste in things as our Scottish friends. They have also suggested a visit to the Dune de Pyla, Arcachon, and other places around the large Basin d'arcachon. Should we bother to visit? Well, we are passing the sand dune. We might take a look. Really lucky we did. It is an amazing natural phenomena. The tallest sand dune in Europe at 103 metres high and approximately 3 km long. When you approach it from the side it is difficult to get the whole perspective of its height and you see people wearily climbing up it, or sitting to have a rest. And you think, how difficult can that be? So we tried and it was surprisingly difficult. The sand just gives way under your feet, so every step you take is only about half. The most northern slope is incredibly steep. So much so that I wouldn't go near it. However, we plodded our way up the side. We let the pups off their leads and they tear up and down as if it were on the flat thoroughly enjoying themselves and getting in everyone's way. Once over the ridge at the top, the views are fantastic. We are both so glad we saw it. In England I doubt if you would be allowed to climb something like this because of Health and Safety or the edges would somehow be roped off although that would not be easy.
So, with our new found confidence in our Scottish advisors, it is on to Arcachon and the Aire in the town which happens to be next to a fuel station selling GPL. So we can look forward to that drama in the morning. It is a short walk from the Aire to the muddy shore of the Basin de Arcachon. An area of 150 square km covered by the sea at high tide, and only a third of this at low tide. It reminds me of the the East coast and has a big oyster business here. A great half hour spent watching the oyster boats coming up the creek as the sun goes down.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Arcachon
Water perspective
11th March
There is always what they call a Service point in these sites. It consists of a grill to drive over to empty grey water. A hole and usually a tap over for emptying chemical toilets, and then a tap for fresh water. This usually has a thread on it for a hose, but this one didn't which means using bottles to fill from. Errrhhh. There is now a queue behind us, so we decide to park up again and just top up the tank with a few litres ferried by our large water bottles. Jc did this and I took the pups down to the beach.
We take the coast road much to Jane's annoyance and in fact unless we turned her off,she would insist we change course. The drive up the coast road is not actually on the coast but a few miles inland and is lined with Pine trees for miles. A good driving day, sunny and straight roads.
When we arrived at Mimizan Plage Aire, later that day we immediately filled up with water, and Jc asked me for the filler cap. ' Erhhh. You opened it'. 'No, you asked me for the key, and anyway it was already open, as he fumbles in his pocket to find the keys. It dawns on us both that the filler cap is in Biarritz. **¥¥$¥# Still, it's probably sitting there on the side where you left it. We could go back and get it as it is the one that locks with the same key as everything else on the van and useless to anyone else. Where did you leave it? Er, balanced on the ledge by the fuel cap. Ahhh, so it is not in Biarritz. It is somewhere between there and here then.
I had never wanted to go to Mimizan Plage. It was cold and looked unfriendly and they wanted €8 for the night. But the dogs were fed up and to get to the place we had been recommended Biscarrose Plage was another 25 miles further. The Scottish friends we had met down at Isla Christina had recommended a few things. The first was not to go to the site in Fuseta as it was very pikey. We did go there and in fact stayed 9 nights and really enjoyed it. The second was to go to Orbitur group sites in Portugal as they were very good. This was way off the mark. And thirdly that Biscarrosse Plage was one of the loveliest places to stay and because they live in France, they often drive the 3 hour journey for a long weekend. We ought to give it a go.
My sense of humour having deserted me, I start Wishstream up and drive furiously for Biscarosse with a bright yellow kitchen cloth sticking out of the hole where the filler cap should be.
Biscarosse Plage Aire is another misnomer. It is set in an enormous pine forest with probably the largest population of caterpillars in France. Actually I don't know as I never looked up. But it is dark and rather spooky and I certainly wouldn't rate it as somewhere to come back to. We find a gap in the fence and walk out onto the massive dunes that protect the forest from the sea. I suppose in summer this would be a lovely place for families with children.
Meanwhile talking about families, I notice 2 x missed calls from my mother. It is the day of the week when we catch up . She answers the phone to explain she can't talk. The ball cock in the loft water tank jammed at 01.00 this morning and after watching the water pour through the ceiling of their spare bedroom for a couple of hours, it fell down at 03.00am.
Ahh, all is now in perspective.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
There is always what they call a Service point in these sites. It consists of a grill to drive over to empty grey water. A hole and usually a tap over for emptying chemical toilets, and then a tap for fresh water. This usually has a thread on it for a hose, but this one didn't which means using bottles to fill from. Errrhhh. There is now a queue behind us, so we decide to park up again and just top up the tank with a few litres ferried by our large water bottles. Jc did this and I took the pups down to the beach.
We take the coast road much to Jane's annoyance and in fact unless we turned her off,she would insist we change course. The drive up the coast road is not actually on the coast but a few miles inland and is lined with Pine trees for miles. A good driving day, sunny and straight roads.
When we arrived at Mimizan Plage Aire, later that day we immediately filled up with water, and Jc asked me for the filler cap. ' Erhhh. You opened it'. 'No, you asked me for the key, and anyway it was already open, as he fumbles in his pocket to find the keys. It dawns on us both that the filler cap is in Biarritz. **¥¥$¥# Still, it's probably sitting there on the side where you left it. We could go back and get it as it is the one that locks with the same key as everything else on the van and useless to anyone else. Where did you leave it? Er, balanced on the ledge by the fuel cap. Ahhh, so it is not in Biarritz. It is somewhere between there and here then.
I had never wanted to go to Mimizan Plage. It was cold and looked unfriendly and they wanted €8 for the night. But the dogs were fed up and to get to the place we had been recommended Biscarrose Plage was another 25 miles further. The Scottish friends we had met down at Isla Christina had recommended a few things. The first was not to go to the site in Fuseta as it was very pikey. We did go there and in fact stayed 9 nights and really enjoyed it. The second was to go to Orbitur group sites in Portugal as they were very good. This was way off the mark. And thirdly that Biscarrosse Plage was one of the loveliest places to stay and because they live in France, they often drive the 3 hour journey for a long weekend. We ought to give it a go.
My sense of humour having deserted me, I start Wishstream up and drive furiously for Biscarosse with a bright yellow kitchen cloth sticking out of the hole where the filler cap should be.
Biscarosse Plage Aire is another misnomer. It is set in an enormous pine forest with probably the largest population of caterpillars in France. Actually I don't know as I never looked up. But it is dark and rather spooky and I certainly wouldn't rate it as somewhere to come back to. We find a gap in the fence and walk out onto the massive dunes that protect the forest from the sea. I suppose in summer this would be a lovely place for families with children.
Meanwhile talking about families, I notice 2 x missed calls from my mother. It is the day of the week when we catch up . She answers the phone to explain she can't talk. The ball cock in the loft water tank jammed at 01.00 this morning and after watching the water pour through the ceiling of their spare bedroom for a couple of hours, it fell down at 03.00am.
Ahh, all is now in perspective.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Biscarrosse Aire
Biarritz
Saddlebag 20c
10th March
We are only a few miles away from Biarritz. I have this image of a very sophisticated coastal town with long grassy promenades, grand architecture and expensive shops. So I wanted to go. It would be good to have another lazy driving day and the Aire we found is right by the beach. We arrived about midday and luckily the Aire is big. Can take 50 vans, and also offers unmetered electricity. So we parked up and plugged in feeling very pleased with ourselves until noticed a note in the book saying that the police arrive at 7.00pm to collect €10 a van. Not so cheap then.
The Aire is on the South side of the town, and slightly out of town, so whilst I didn't get a full picture of the town, because it was Saturday, there were a lot of smart people promenading on the smart grassy coastal path. The beach is long and rugged and famous for its surfing location. The Bay of Biscay hurling himself onto the rocks and sand in usual style. We had a gorgeous walk when we arrived and again along the cliff path in the evening. There are plenty of bars and restaurants on the cliffs, and definately a place to come back to.
I asked the owner of the nearest cafe if we would be able to get bread in the morning, and she said no, everything being closed on a Sunday. But she offered to get an extra loaf in. How kind.
The Aire filled up quickly. It is like being at a MotorHome show. I only wished I could have been allowed in to have a look round some of them. During the evening I reckon there were at least another 50 vans who had to drive away as there was no more room.
It has been an eye opener to find how quiet vanners are. There is usually no noise after dark wherever we go. That is apart from the irritating barks of two Tibetan Terriers out for their last visit around 10.30pm!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
10th March
We are only a few miles away from Biarritz. I have this image of a very sophisticated coastal town with long grassy promenades, grand architecture and expensive shops. So I wanted to go. It would be good to have another lazy driving day and the Aire we found is right by the beach. We arrived about midday and luckily the Aire is big. Can take 50 vans, and also offers unmetered electricity. So we parked up and plugged in feeling very pleased with ourselves until noticed a note in the book saying that the police arrive at 7.00pm to collect €10 a van. Not so cheap then.
The Aire is on the South side of the town, and slightly out of town, so whilst I didn't get a full picture of the town, because it was Saturday, there were a lot of smart people promenading on the smart grassy coastal path. The beach is long and rugged and famous for its surfing location. The Bay of Biscay hurling himself onto the rocks and sand in usual style. We had a gorgeous walk when we arrived and again along the cliff path in the evening. There are plenty of bars and restaurants on the cliffs, and definately a place to come back to.
I asked the owner of the nearest cafe if we would be able to get bread in the morning, and she said no, everything being closed on a Sunday. But she offered to get an extra loaf in. How kind.
The Aire filled up quickly. It is like being at a MotorHome show. I only wished I could have been allowed in to have a look round some of them. During the evening I reckon there were at least another 50 vans who had to drive away as there was no more room.
It has been an eye opener to find how quiet vanners are. There is usually no noise after dark wherever we go. That is apart from the irritating barks of two Tibetan Terriers out for their last visit around 10.30pm!
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Saturday, 10 March 2012
St Jean de Luz
9th March
Whilst we are in St Jean de Luz, we are in a campsite which is more than walking distance away, so with Wishstream and pups need to find somewhere to park up close to town so we can explore. There is a small Aire in the town whose write up is particularly uncomplimentary and when we arrive it is clear why. It is jammed between the road and the railway line, and each designated parking area offers no more than 1ft either side. So sardine like we negotiate a gap. Actually, it is all rather secure and snug like - although the noise is deafening. When the nonstop TGV goes past I wonder if the saddle bags might go with it.
However, the Aire is right in the town. Minutes from the absolutely gorgeous chocolate and confectionary shops, selling sheets of chocolate by the meter. Although we didn't buy any.
There is produce so beautifully wrapped you would never eat it. So a great afternoon window shopping and a nice supper out with with the dogs under the table. Good old French.
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Whilst we are in St Jean de Luz, we are in a campsite which is more than walking distance away, so with Wishstream and pups need to find somewhere to park up close to town so we can explore. There is a small Aire in the town whose write up is particularly uncomplimentary and when we arrive it is clear why. It is jammed between the road and the railway line, and each designated parking area offers no more than 1ft either side. So sardine like we negotiate a gap. Actually, it is all rather secure and snug like - although the noise is deafening. When the nonstop TGV goes past I wonder if the saddle bags might go with it.
However, the Aire is right in the town. Minutes from the absolutely gorgeous chocolate and confectionary shops, selling sheets of chocolate by the meter. Although we didn't buy any.
There is produce so beautifully wrapped you would never eat it. So a great afternoon window shopping and a nice supper out with with the dogs under the table. Good old French.
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Stuff
8th March
Seems we have parked in a building plot as usual, and the builders have arrived early. More rubble! I have seen enough of it to last a lifetime. We are out of Spain today, and hopefully France has given all their rubble to Spain.
Many friends have mentioned the town of St Jean de Luz just over the border in France, so we plan that in and by now are in desperate need of a laundry day and there is a site just outside of the town.
On the way there obviously pass through the border but unlike the other times, there is no mention of it and we only know because the signs are now written in French. ( although i am not pretending we understand what they say.) As we enter the outskirts of the town we see a Carrefour sign. Ahhhh, we have both missed their Terrine de Campayne and just the thought of it for lunch must have made us light headed as we now ignore the turning to the site and motor off in the direction shown by the sign. Through the centre of the town of St Jean de Luz and out into the country. As the miles went by and the distance between us and the camp site increased we looked at each other. ARE WE MAD?? just for a Terrine??! We promised at every corner that if it wasn't around the next one we would go back. Finally after 5 miles off driving off our route we arrived. It was the best Carrefour ever, and I bought loads of goodies for consumption over the next couple of days including Navarin of Lamb ( we never buy it as we can't understand the cuts), and some Gratin of Legumes and Gratin de Pommes de Terre and Chèvre. All delicious.
The site is big, attractive and has a fishing lake within the grounds, so ideal for the pups to race around. A record washing day. All of it and a dog towel wash was completed and dried in the van by the time we left the next day. Wifi was a problem as usual. You have to pay by the hour and so I did. The system doesn't work on IPads though. The nice, very friendly young girl on reception went to find the very busy, grumpy owner who was in the middle of cementing something and wanted to work the iPad with his cementy hands. So, he gave me my money back. And that was that!! Only later, when I pugged in our fab low wattage fire and blew the electrics on our stack which included 2 other families, I thought I would have to go and find him again. Luckily, the young girl had the key and came to sort it out, but we couldn't use the fire again that night.
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Seems we have parked in a building plot as usual, and the builders have arrived early. More rubble! I have seen enough of it to last a lifetime. We are out of Spain today, and hopefully France has given all their rubble to Spain.
Many friends have mentioned the town of St Jean de Luz just over the border in France, so we plan that in and by now are in desperate need of a laundry day and there is a site just outside of the town.
On the way there obviously pass through the border but unlike the other times, there is no mention of it and we only know because the signs are now written in French. ( although i am not pretending we understand what they say.) As we enter the outskirts of the town we see a Carrefour sign. Ahhhh, we have both missed their Terrine de Campayne and just the thought of it for lunch must have made us light headed as we now ignore the turning to the site and motor off in the direction shown by the sign. Through the centre of the town of St Jean de Luz and out into the country. As the miles went by and the distance between us and the camp site increased we looked at each other. ARE WE MAD?? just for a Terrine??! We promised at every corner that if it wasn't around the next one we would go back. Finally after 5 miles off driving off our route we arrived. It was the best Carrefour ever, and I bought loads of goodies for consumption over the next couple of days including Navarin of Lamb ( we never buy it as we can't understand the cuts), and some Gratin of Legumes and Gratin de Pommes de Terre and Chèvre. All delicious.
The site is big, attractive and has a fishing lake within the grounds, so ideal for the pups to race around. A record washing day. All of it and a dog towel wash was completed and dried in the van by the time we left the next day. Wifi was a problem as usual. You have to pay by the hour and so I did. The system doesn't work on IPads though. The nice, very friendly young girl on reception went to find the very busy, grumpy owner who was in the middle of cementing something and wanted to work the iPad with his cementy hands. So, he gave me my money back. And that was that!! Only later, when I pugged in our fab low wattage fire and blew the electrics on our stack which included 2 other families, I thought I would have to go and find him again. Luckily, the young girl had the key and came to sort it out, but we couldn't use the fire again that night.
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Guggenheim
7th March
Another van joined us here for the night. A Mercedes IH which is narrow, only slightly wider than a car, but 7M long. The owners are English and explained that because they were only away for 8 weeks, they would be moving on every 3 days and therefore wanted something easier to drive than a big wide van. It strikes me that we have covered an enormous amount of country and often move on every day for a week. It is obviously not very normal or relaxing, but both of enjoy the passage making.
They invited me in. A very impressive finish on all the fitted cupboards, and it has a big u lounge at the back. But all that bed making at night. No, not for me.
We have talked about visiting the Guggenheim exhibition and had been told that car parking is good. So set off in some trepidation towards the centre of Bilbao. Jane Tom Tom took us right to the door of the Door. An amazing, stunning building of steel, titanium and brick. However, no sigh of any car parking fit for a camper van. We drive past the building, up and down at a snail's pace upsetting all the cars now trailing behind. Eventually we make for the bridge over the river. Maybe it is easier there. Yes, there is a large car park just as we come off the bridge, but half of it is closed off and the other half is full to bursting with parked cars. Ok, let's just drive down alongside the river on this side which doesn't seem so busy. After about 2 hours, we are on the road leading to the Motorway out of town. CRAZY. We have spent the day getting so close. We agree that we will return to the car park and hope that there will be some room. If not, that is it. Goodbye Bilbao and Guggenheim.
As we approach the car park we see a large parking place by the river. It is where the road is at its widest. There are blue dotted lines around it, but we think it is ok. jC goes to put money in the meter and is totally perplexed so doesn't. Pups stay in the van and we go off on foot. HURRAH. dogs and camper vans. Nightmare.
The museum is amazing, and we saw some wild and interesting stuff. But it is the actual building which is so fantastic and I m really glad we went.
Back to pups and off to an Aire in Donostia San Sebastian. Very close to the border. We needed to do a shop so Jc volunteered to cycle off in search of a Waitrose or similar and returned with a large can of Pedigree Chum and some eggs for an omelet. Delicious.
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Another van joined us here for the night. A Mercedes IH which is narrow, only slightly wider than a car, but 7M long. The owners are English and explained that because they were only away for 8 weeks, they would be moving on every 3 days and therefore wanted something easier to drive than a big wide van. It strikes me that we have covered an enormous amount of country and often move on every day for a week. It is obviously not very normal or relaxing, but both of enjoy the passage making.
They invited me in. A very impressive finish on all the fitted cupboards, and it has a big u lounge at the back. But all that bed making at night. No, not for me.
We have talked about visiting the Guggenheim exhibition and had been told that car parking is good. So set off in some trepidation towards the centre of Bilbao. Jane Tom Tom took us right to the door of the Door. An amazing, stunning building of steel, titanium and brick. However, no sigh of any car parking fit for a camper van. We drive past the building, up and down at a snail's pace upsetting all the cars now trailing behind. Eventually we make for the bridge over the river. Maybe it is easier there. Yes, there is a large car park just as we come off the bridge, but half of it is closed off and the other half is full to bursting with parked cars. Ok, let's just drive down alongside the river on this side which doesn't seem so busy. After about 2 hours, we are on the road leading to the Motorway out of town. CRAZY. We have spent the day getting so close. We agree that we will return to the car park and hope that there will be some room. If not, that is it. Goodbye Bilbao and Guggenheim.
As we approach the car park we see a large parking place by the river. It is where the road is at its widest. There are blue dotted lines around it, but we think it is ok. jC goes to put money in the meter and is totally perplexed so doesn't. Pups stay in the van and we go off on foot. HURRAH. dogs and camper vans. Nightmare.
The museum is amazing, and we saw some wild and interesting stuff. But it is the actual building which is so fantastic and I m really glad we went.
Back to pups and off to an Aire in Donostia San Sebastian. Very close to the border. We needed to do a shop so Jc volunteered to cycle off in search of a Waitrose or similar and returned with a large can of Pedigree Chum and some eggs for an omelet. Delicious.
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Location:Bilbao
Burgos
6th March
Last night was bloody freezing. I woke up at 5.00am and the bits outside the duvet were frozen. Had a sip of water and it had nearly turned to ice. Hang on, this is supposed to be a winterised, fully insulated German, dogs boll......s van. Hmm, I don't think so!! Checked the temp. Inside 5c, outside saddlebag -3c. Shall I get in with JC? Hmm, looking down off the shelf, others have got there before me and are snuggling up hard. Face under duvet and sleep.
It was still freezing in the morning, and the electrics were so damp everything shorted out, but the Burgos residents were out there and hard at it. Strutting, running, jogging, etc. it was an eye opener.
I went to reception. How is the poor sore wifi. It is fixed but it €2000 a minute. Or something like that!! How is the washing machine. It is up and running, but you have to deliver it to the washing lady between 12.00 and 3.00. Hmm, we plan to go into town today, and won't be around at those times. Any chance we could do it ourselves when we get back? NON
It is 3 km into the old town and because of pesky pups we take the van. There is a big car park on the south side of the river just opposite the main happenings and we make for there. In the shade, dogs stay in and we are off. Free. Well for a couple of hours until I start to get anxious about them.
The cathedral is supposed to be worth a visit, but whilst we have seen a few now the exterior is amazing.
Other than the usual stuff inside, El CID,s grave is probably worth noting although the picture of him is also rather handsome. Or is that Charleston Heston?
The place is full of those trees that we have now seen many times in Plazas and streets in Northern Spain. The branches from the neighbouring trees seem to grow into each other to form one and whilst they are nobbly and knurled, it looks very attractive. I asked an ancient looking farmacist about them whilst she was cleaning her shop window. She reckoned they are called
Platano oriental, but I'm still not sure.
We stopped odd at a cafe which I didn't notice at the time but is also called a Choclatier. So when I ordered a hot chocolate, it was a cup of dark, rich, to die for, pure chocolate. Not sure how many calories but probably the most ever in one drink!
Don't want to return to the site now, so decide to move on and we find an Aire about 35 miles en route at Miranda de Ebro. The roads here are an engineering feat. The Spanish must have spent a fortune. Because of the mountain range which runs right across the north side of the country, they use all sorts of aids to achieve fast, safe and drive able roads. There are clever bridges, long tunnels, great shelves cut into the mountain sides and v shaped gashes in some of the lower ones so that the road is not too steep.
A really enjoyable afternoon's drive but by the time we get to the Aire both Pups are whining and Kicker is barking hard. They are really fed up and it makes me feel quite bad. The Aire is as usual by a river and Jc takes them for a long walk which cheers them all up whilst I try out the Big Boy Free Sat Dome. Should be able to get a signal from here. Ah, no. But there is a high rise block to the SE of us. I move the van 3 ft. Forwards and hey presto. Soon I am watching Movies4Men2+1(not a prime station, I feel!). A Richard Attenborough film from the last century. It is the only station I can get and this fizzles out when it gets dark. Why is that??!
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Last night was bloody freezing. I woke up at 5.00am and the bits outside the duvet were frozen. Had a sip of water and it had nearly turned to ice. Hang on, this is supposed to be a winterised, fully insulated German, dogs boll......s van. Hmm, I don't think so!! Checked the temp. Inside 5c, outside saddlebag -3c. Shall I get in with JC? Hmm, looking down off the shelf, others have got there before me and are snuggling up hard. Face under duvet and sleep.
It was still freezing in the morning, and the electrics were so damp everything shorted out, but the Burgos residents were out there and hard at it. Strutting, running, jogging, etc. it was an eye opener.
I went to reception. How is the poor sore wifi. It is fixed but it €2000 a minute. Or something like that!! How is the washing machine. It is up and running, but you have to deliver it to the washing lady between 12.00 and 3.00. Hmm, we plan to go into town today, and won't be around at those times. Any chance we could do it ourselves when we get back? NON
It is 3 km into the old town and because of pesky pups we take the van. There is a big car park on the south side of the river just opposite the main happenings and we make for there. In the shade, dogs stay in and we are off. Free. Well for a couple of hours until I start to get anxious about them.
The cathedral is supposed to be worth a visit, but whilst we have seen a few now the exterior is amazing.
Other than the usual stuff inside, El CID,s grave is probably worth noting although the picture of him is also rather handsome. Or is that Charleston Heston?
The place is full of those trees that we have now seen many times in Plazas and streets in Northern Spain. The branches from the neighbouring trees seem to grow into each other to form one and whilst they are nobbly and knurled, it looks very attractive. I asked an ancient looking farmacist about them whilst she was cleaning her shop window. She reckoned they are called
Platano oriental, but I'm still not sure.
We stopped odd at a cafe which I didn't notice at the time but is also called a Choclatier. So when I ordered a hot chocolate, it was a cup of dark, rich, to die for, pure chocolate. Not sure how many calories but probably the most ever in one drink!
Don't want to return to the site now, so decide to move on and we find an Aire about 35 miles en route at Miranda de Ebro. The roads here are an engineering feat. The Spanish must have spent a fortune. Because of the mountain range which runs right across the north side of the country, they use all sorts of aids to achieve fast, safe and drive able roads. There are clever bridges, long tunnels, great shelves cut into the mountain sides and v shaped gashes in some of the lower ones so that the road is not too steep.
A really enjoyable afternoon's drive but by the time we get to the Aire both Pups are whining and Kicker is barking hard. They are really fed up and it makes me feel quite bad. The Aire is as usual by a river and Jc takes them for a long walk which cheers them all up whilst I try out the Big Boy Free Sat Dome. Should be able to get a signal from here. Ah, no. But there is a high rise block to the SE of us. I move the van 3 ft. Forwards and hey presto. Soon I am watching Movies4Men2+1(not a prime station, I feel!). A Richard Attenborough film from the last century. It is the only station I can get and this fizzles out when it gets dark. Why is that??!
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Nothing Working Madam
5th March
Burgos is mentioned in all the books so we decided we needed to visit. The journey was a great typical Wishstreaming drive of mountains, gorges, valleys and beautiful scenery. We decided to go for a campsite to do some laundry and charge up stuff, but the site open mentioned itinerants and dodgy electrics. Oh well, no option here. But actually, they had got rid off the itinerants and the site is lovely. Open and sunny and next to a walk/ cycle path to the river. It seems the whole population of Burgos, like the population of the good van Wishstream are on a keep fit drive. Hordes of people wearing a mix of smart fashionable gear from the ankle up are strutting down the river. All ages, all types, and all wearing trainers! It is a thought provoking time, and I wish I had asked about it as we were both amazed.
Meanwhile, back at the site, the wifi would be fixed TOMORROW. The washing machine would be up and running TOMORROW and the electrics are still dodgy.
Talking of warmth, Burstener have not thought this gas heating system through. The thermostat for it is cited on the side of the oven. So, if you are using the oven to prepare a meal. ( pretty reasonable I would have thought) then you have to hope the warmth from the meal will keep you going, as the automatic gas heating system won't click in until the oven cools.
It is clearly going to be a cold night but that's ok, we are prepared with our so called low wattage Kamper electric heater which has blown out more electric fuses on our world Tour than you can shake a stick at. In fact JC now refuses to operate it. But I cross my fingers, take a deep breath, and often it works fine like this. Tonight, the crossed fingers are doing the trick and it is toasty.
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Burgos is mentioned in all the books so we decided we needed to visit. The journey was a great typical Wishstreaming drive of mountains, gorges, valleys and beautiful scenery. We decided to go for a campsite to do some laundry and charge up stuff, but the site open mentioned itinerants and dodgy electrics. Oh well, no option here. But actually, they had got rid off the itinerants and the site is lovely. Open and sunny and next to a walk/ cycle path to the river. It seems the whole population of Burgos, like the population of the good van Wishstream are on a keep fit drive. Hordes of people wearing a mix of smart fashionable gear from the ankle up are strutting down the river. All ages, all types, and all wearing trainers! It is a thought provoking time, and I wish I had asked about it as we were both amazed.
Meanwhile, back at the site, the wifi would be fixed TOMORROW. The washing machine would be up and running TOMORROW and the electrics are still dodgy.
Talking of warmth, Burstener have not thought this gas heating system through. The thermostat for it is cited on the side of the oven. So, if you are using the oven to prepare a meal. ( pretty reasonable I would have thought) then you have to hope the warmth from the meal will keep you going, as the automatic gas heating system won't click in until the oven cools.
It is clearly going to be a cold night but that's ok, we are prepared with our so called low wattage Kamper electric heater which has blown out more electric fuses on our world Tour than you can shake a stick at. In fact JC now refuses to operate it. But I cross my fingers, take a deep breath, and often it works fine like this. Tonight, the crossed fingers are doing the trick and it is toasty.
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Location:Burgos
Leon
4th March
Ahhh, the noise outside. It is 7.45am and it sounds as if there is market being set up. Too cold still to get up and check. We will wait a little while. More cars arrive, more chatting. No female voices. I raise the blind one inch and to my horror there are hundreds of trail motorbikes all sitting upright on stands all over the car park and also surrounding Wishstream. One is 6 inches away. There are also loads of cars with trailers holding more bikes and one of them has parked right in front of us and another in the small gap we left between us and the corner of the sports hall.
So it's up and out with the dogs, fighting our way through young men all dressed as Evil Knevil. The area where we would normally fill up and empty our grey water had been commandeered by the Guardia Civil, so forget that. We start up and inch forward and backward until a couple of the lads realise what is happening and helpfully move a few bikes for us. Eventually we squeeze out and park up down the road to sort ourselves out. Oh well, at least it has got us up and on the road early.
Making for Leon today. Cold but sunny start and then we start climbing into the clouds, and in fact I think we are now in them.
Maybe this early start lark is not such a great idea. Wait for the sun to burn bait of the bad weather off.
We are going to Leon because there is an Aire there which is along our way. There are only 6 places and when we get there there are about 20 vans all parked up in normal paying places. We join them and find that because it is Sunday there is no charge there anyway. A smart, clean place by the river. Jc set off to find provisions. There were none. Everything is closed as it is Sunday. But other than Belgian Buns or their substitutes, we have provisions and will survive.
Around 19.00 hours Jc was looking for a beer and headed out alone. At 17.10 all of the motorhomes bar one moved out leaving me home alone and wondering if the tow away truck was on its way. When Jc got back, I hustled him into the van quickly, started up and moved to one of the now vacant official slots so we could sleep easy.
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Ahhh, the noise outside. It is 7.45am and it sounds as if there is market being set up. Too cold still to get up and check. We will wait a little while. More cars arrive, more chatting. No female voices. I raise the blind one inch and to my horror there are hundreds of trail motorbikes all sitting upright on stands all over the car park and also surrounding Wishstream. One is 6 inches away. There are also loads of cars with trailers holding more bikes and one of them has parked right in front of us and another in the small gap we left between us and the corner of the sports hall.
So it's up and out with the dogs, fighting our way through young men all dressed as Evil Knevil. The area where we would normally fill up and empty our grey water had been commandeered by the Guardia Civil, so forget that. We start up and inch forward and backward until a couple of the lads realise what is happening and helpfully move a few bikes for us. Eventually we squeeze out and park up down the road to sort ourselves out. Oh well, at least it has got us up and on the road early.
Making for Leon today. Cold but sunny start and then we start climbing into the clouds, and in fact I think we are now in them.
Maybe this early start lark is not such a great idea. Wait for the sun to burn bait of the bad weather off.
We are going to Leon because there is an Aire there which is along our way. There are only 6 places and when we get there there are about 20 vans all parked up in normal paying places. We join them and find that because it is Sunday there is no charge there anyway. A smart, clean place by the river. Jc set off to find provisions. There were none. Everything is closed as it is Sunday. But other than Belgian Buns or their substitutes, we have provisions and will survive.
Around 19.00 hours Jc was looking for a beer and headed out alone. At 17.10 all of the motorhomes bar one moved out leaving me home alone and wondering if the tow away truck was on its way. When Jc got back, I hustled him into the van quickly, started up and moved to one of the now vacant official slots so we could sleep easy.
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Sunday, 4 March 2012
Going East
3rd March
Saddlebag 16c And about 11c at night.
Need to pick up gas from Vigo as there isn't an outlet again before France. Also at Vigo it is a proper Gas refill place where the nice man fills it for you. So no dramas. We have decided to go inland from here rather than take the coastal route which will be a long and winding way round. There are Aires along the way and the main A roads follow the rivers. The scenery is great with high mountains, deep wide valleys and wide rivers. There is a yellow flowering tree lining the roads and rivers here. Can't find out what they are called, but look glorious at this time of year.
We drive about 120 miles east and locate an Aire at A Rua. It is a large car park right in the river beside a large sports hall and football pitch. It is Saturday, and the boys are playing, so the car park is full, but we squeeze in next to the closed cafe, and take the dogs for a walk by the river. The cafe owner advises that once the football finishes all the cars will go. Great, a nice peaceful evening, we think.
Not sure what is happening here but a number of cars have come into the park at speed and swung round missing us by inches. We move. More come in and still come close. We move again so that now we position ourselves alongside the river in one corner of the car park. Goodnight.
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Saddlebag 16c And about 11c at night.
Need to pick up gas from Vigo as there isn't an outlet again before France. Also at Vigo it is a proper Gas refill place where the nice man fills it for you. So no dramas. We have decided to go inland from here rather than take the coastal route which will be a long and winding way round. There are Aires along the way and the main A roads follow the rivers. The scenery is great with high mountains, deep wide valleys and wide rivers. There is a yellow flowering tree lining the roads and rivers here. Can't find out what they are called, but look glorious at this time of year.
We drive about 120 miles east and locate an Aire at A Rua. It is a large car park right in the river beside a large sports hall and football pitch. It is Saturday, and the boys are playing, so the car park is full, but we squeeze in next to the closed cafe, and take the dogs for a walk by the river. The cafe owner advises that once the football finishes all the cars will go. Great, a nice peaceful evening, we think.
Not sure what is happening here but a number of cars have come into the park at speed and swung round missing us by inches. We move. More come in and still come close. We move again so that now we position ourselves alongside the river in one corner of the car park. Goodnight.
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Location:A Rua
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Baiona
1st/2nd March
My father was the navigator in the Bermuda to Baiona Transatlantic Race in a beautiful Swan yacht called War Baby. The race was in the early 70's and I was allowed to join the boat in Baiona and crew it back to Cowes week. A trip that was to cement my life long passion for sailing. I was about 16. I asked my Mum on the phone last week how come our strict Father allowed me to do this. Her response. "If it was to do with sailing it was fine"! And so it was. A very tiring train journey with 2 friends from our local yacht club in Hythe. I think it took 2 full days but we were in sit up seats and the trains were very slow and climbed up all the big mountain ranges slower than we could walk. All the boats had been becalmed for many days so were behind in their finishing times and my Dad hadn't yet arrived. We spent the next day on the ramparts of the castle above the Yacht club watching the boats come around the headland. I remember it well.
When War Baby finally arrived, I hardly recognised my father. The crew of 8 men and one girl, (the owner's daughter) had spent their days starkers so he was mahogany brown and had become 'one of the boys'. Not a term I would normally have associated him with.
I remember the couple of days spent there preparing War Baby for her sail to Cowes. The excitement of being one of the crew in this large fleet of very exotic boats and people. There was a big celebration in the castle the night before we sailed and in my youth as well as the atmosphere of that evening, I thought this was one of the most romantic places in the world. So I am back. And today we walked the castle's ramparts and I took a trip down memory lane. Something like 41 years ago but the place is still lovely and I am glad to have come back.
We are moored up on a site on a spit of land overlooking the marina. It is exorbitantly priced at €24 a night including the 35% off peak discount. But another great spot and surrounded by water on 3 sides.
Christopher Columbus arrived here in 1493 on his return from having discovered America, so there is a big medieval celebration over the weekend closest to March 1st every year, and tonight the town is swinging. But we will be moving on tomorrow as we still have other sites to see.
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My father was the navigator in the Bermuda to Baiona Transatlantic Race in a beautiful Swan yacht called War Baby. The race was in the early 70's and I was allowed to join the boat in Baiona and crew it back to Cowes week. A trip that was to cement my life long passion for sailing. I was about 16. I asked my Mum on the phone last week how come our strict Father allowed me to do this. Her response. "If it was to do with sailing it was fine"! And so it was. A very tiring train journey with 2 friends from our local yacht club in Hythe. I think it took 2 full days but we were in sit up seats and the trains were very slow and climbed up all the big mountain ranges slower than we could walk. All the boats had been becalmed for many days so were behind in their finishing times and my Dad hadn't yet arrived. We spent the next day on the ramparts of the castle above the Yacht club watching the boats come around the headland. I remember it well.
When War Baby finally arrived, I hardly recognised my father. The crew of 8 men and one girl, (the owner's daughter) had spent their days starkers so he was mahogany brown and had become 'one of the boys'. Not a term I would normally have associated him with.
I remember the couple of days spent there preparing War Baby for her sail to Cowes. The excitement of being one of the crew in this large fleet of very exotic boats and people. There was a big celebration in the castle the night before we sailed and in my youth as well as the atmosphere of that evening, I thought this was one of the most romantic places in the world. So I am back. And today we walked the castle's ramparts and I took a trip down memory lane. Something like 41 years ago but the place is still lovely and I am glad to have come back.
We are moored up on a site on a spit of land overlooking the marina. It is exorbitantly priced at €24 a night including the 35% off peak discount. But another great spot and surrounded by water on 3 sides.
Christopher Columbus arrived here in 1493 on his return from having discovered America, so there is a big medieval celebration over the weekend closest to March 1st every year, and tonight the town is swinging. But we will be moving on tomorrow as we still have other sites to see.
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Location:Just south of Vigo
Vila Cha
29th February
Of the 4 beating hearts in this van, there are 2 x lean, mean, fighting machines, a Fat Sloth (so named by JC) and then there is me. So Gibby and I need to go on a diet. The problem is that the Portugese dog food is windy and contains a lot of jelly, so we have being buying Pedigree chum when we can find it at vast expense and in enormous (1.2 litre) cans. These should last 3 days, but it is very difficult to guage the right amount and today we are on day 3 but there is nothing left in the tin. So Gybo in particular gets pretty miffed. Pawing us and asking for food as she has been given short measures. I figure that I would be pretty miffed too so open the new tin, which feeds the problem as it were.
Today is a day off. We have been moving for days and we are all tired of it. Also, the van looks like a sandpit. So a spring clean is in order which we are both pleased with when we hang up our marigolds at around 3.00pm.
Tomorrow, hello Spain and I am looking forward to some decent Tapas.
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Of the 4 beating hearts in this van, there are 2 x lean, mean, fighting machines, a Fat Sloth (so named by JC) and then there is me. So Gibby and I need to go on a diet. The problem is that the Portugese dog food is windy and contains a lot of jelly, so we have being buying Pedigree chum when we can find it at vast expense and in enormous (1.2 litre) cans. These should last 3 days, but it is very difficult to guage the right amount and today we are on day 3 but there is nothing left in the tin. So Gybo in particular gets pretty miffed. Pawing us and asking for food as she has been given short measures. I figure that I would be pretty miffed too so open the new tin, which feeds the problem as it were.
Today is a day off. We have been moving for days and we are all tired of it. Also, the van looks like a sandpit. So a spring clean is in order which we are both pleased with when we hang up our marigolds at around 3.00pm.
Tomorrow, hello Spain and I am looking forward to some decent Tapas.
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Porto
28th February
We have decided to get closer to Porto. Park up somewhere (hopefully) and walk into town. There is an Aires shown on the south side of the river and further east from this there is all the Port distributors caves and visitor rooms with their tours and tastings. So sounds like a plan.
This area is still in the region of Vila Nova de Gaia, so only a few kilometres from where we are. The journey there is impossible. Spaghetti junction tripled and Jane has going round in circles and finally we switch her off and follow the signs to the Cais. The Aire is a grobelly piece of land - well rubble really!, and we decide to continue down the road following the river to get to civilisation. Of course, as we are used to, the roads are all cobbled so my Gibby is up on JC's lap as she is unhappy with the noise and vibration. And she is not the only one. You can now see Porto across the river. A fabulous old town with great architecture. The road is narrowing down and we are driving slowly to think about the options. We arrive in the main caves area with restaurants and shops lining the river interspersed with the Port centres such as Taylor's, Sandemans and Crofts. They all have their Barcos Rebelos boats that used to transport the port down the Duoro, now used as a Tourist attraction.
There is absolutely nowhere to park and we are carried up to one of the fine bridges that go across into Porto. NOPE. a quick and fairly noisy U turn sorted that out and we finally find ourselves back at the rubble. I mean Aire. Where we park in the shade. Leave the pups on guard, and mount our trusty bikes for the mile ride back. A glorious place and we actually went across the river to the Porto side for lunch by the river.
The Sandemans building has been there for over 2 centuries and has a museum and large visitor centre with tours. We didn't bother with that. A bottle of their finest tawny and we were gone. At least we got a flavour of it all and we will be back.
Found a site on the west coast north of Porto in Vila Cha. Campismo sol de vila cha. Small family run site which was a delight. They were all tending the grounds, planting, cleaning up and getting ready for the summer. The beach is a 5 minute walk and our pitchy was luscious green grass. The first we have had on this trip.
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Location:Vila Cha
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