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.
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Location:Lanton
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