Home Again

The last few hours in France were spent on the motorway before we entered the Chunnel and crossed in a trice to emerge on an M20 being lashed by heavy rain. Welcome home!!!

As we pushed our way through the rain and spray on a series of noisy motorways made of concrete and filled with rushing traffic we missed the carefree motoring of Spain. But as we headed West the clouds cleared and we travelled the last miles of our journey on a familiar A303 in some sunshine even if the wind was bitter.

Into the village and onto our drive to discover some kind person had placed a welcome home balloon on our gate - perhaps they will have us back? As we tour the house and garden we find everything in good order and nothing seems to have suffered too much in our absence thanks to those who have kept an eye on things. Spring is still sprung in the garden and although we have missed the daffodils and the best of the hellebores we still have much to enjoy.

Resisting the urge to turn round and start again we spend an evening wondering what we will do with all the space and agree that the trip was a great success. Whilst we missed family and friends we expect to take another one before too long.

We hope our followers have enjoyed reading about our journey and we hope it will remind us of what and where and when.

The Loire, the Loir, the Eure and the Seine or Four Rivers and a Parking Attendant

After a quiet night in Blois we continue our journey North with the aim of making a stop near Rouen for the next night. This gives us plenty of time and head off along the straight roads of the northern Loire valley between fields of green cereal crops and the bright yellow of rape. We stop to pick up bread for breakfast at the pretty little town of Oucques and drop into the valley of the Loir where we find a quiet forest track to sit and eat it. The baguette is voted the best we have had during our travels as is the almond croissant and pan au raisin (we need to carb load before we cross the Channel). In need of some exercise (another baguette has been reserved for lunch) we follow the river to the village of Montigny-le-Gannelon where we park by a fishing lake and followed one of a number of village trails which gives us a 2 hour tour of the area. Through the village with its chateau, across fields and through bluebell woods and we are back by the river and follow it to the van. Exercise taken we can justify lunch by the lake – and there are fish!

John who decides to wash his hands at the waters edge is attacked (there can be no other word for it) by two large fish who throw themselves at him as he bends to reach the water. If you have seen that oft repeated tv footage of a killer whale taking seals from a beach somewhere in the North Pacific then you have an idea of what a narrow escape was had. Shaken and stirred we decide to pack our picnic things and leave the area before the fish came back for more.

A gentle and scenic drive across the rolling countryside towards the valley of the Eure on a Friday that sees the start of a holiday weekend. The garden centres are packed and although we resist the urge we plan to return at some point and visit a Jardiland. We avoid Chartres using the by-pass but are still able to admire the twin spires of its cathedral from a distance before we drop into the valley of the Eure past Dreux to camp at Marcilly-sur-Eure. This is a woodland site which has an interesting configuration involving 8 or 10 circular “villages” of 15 or 20 caravans each with its own services.

Saturday morning and we head North East for Giverny and Monet’s Garden. This was not in our original plan but time allows us to include a visit and we arrive mid-morning. The numbers that descend upon this hamlet each year has meant that traffic must be well controlled and we are pleased to see from the signs that there is free parking outside of the village. We pass a few car parks all with height restriction barriers but enter the coach park with plenty of space (a favourite tactic). We prepare to park only to be confronted by a gesticulating Frenchman (imagine Ken Dodd without the teeth) who has been give this parking area as his very own for the day and is prepared to defend it to the death. From his shouting and over emphasised arm waving we can see that he does not welcome our presence. John ignores him (a favourite tactic) but to our surprise he pulls a whistle and begins to blow it at us – YES – he blew his whistle at us. John laughs and continues to ignore him (a favourite tactic) but he will not be still and we both become concerned for his blood pressure. Eventually John pulls the van round and prepares give to this gesticulating Frenchman a broadside. He winds down the passenger window and presents the chap with Margaret (a favourite tactic). The Frenchman immediately realises the game is up when presented with such English resistance and he capitulates, scribbles a few notes on a map and directs us to a car park in the middle of the village not 20 yards from the entrance to the garden. We thank him for assistance (does sarcasm translate?), bid him farewell, drive to the village, park up and take coffee to allow our nerves to settle.

Monet was away for the weekend but had left his house and garden unlocked and this allowed us to wander at will around a spectacular Spring garden. Whilst famed for the water lilies (too early) the many colourful plants and trees in full blossom provided a superb place to spend a few hours in the sunshine. We agreed that this was a perfect time to enjoy the place.

After the garden we took the opportunity for wander round the village and up into the hills behind where footpaths lead us to the church and Monet’s tomb. There is also a grave of seven British airmen who died when their bomber crashed nearby in early June 1944. The villagers have also erected a memorial to their sacrifice incorporating a propeller blade from the aircraft. This unexpected piece of history and the discovery of the Union Jack flying over a grave in a very French graveyard was a moving reminder of what times were like here 60 odd years ago.

As we travel on we are reminded of another even earlier conflict as we pass through the valley of the Somme and camp for the last night of our trip (difficult to believe) some 60 miles South of Calais near Abbeville.

From Wine Region to Wine Region

After a couple nights in Bordeaux it is time for the Loire and so Wednesday morning we head for Tours. Since we want to avoid the Péage the N10 is the road of choice and this proves a little frustrating in terms of speed of progress but it does mean we see the countryside. By 1pm we are passing Futuroscope and the weather is really hotting up. Having passed this way before some fifteen years ago we know of a lake at St Cyr just off the main road and head there for lunch. We remember hiring a windsurfer here and Jeremy being the most successful of the family in staying up – unfortunately he had not mastered turning and so we watched helplessly as he set off across the lake and out of our sight.

Today the lake and its beaches have attracted some families and youngsters and we find a spot to sit and sun ourselves with the opportunity of a cooling swim.

Later in the afternoon we decide to get a few more miles North and about 10 miles from Tours at Ste Maure de Touraine we see a sign for a motorhome stop – a field on farm - where we spend the night with 8 other vans and bar-b-q supper.

Bread is delivered in the morning and farm fresh eggs on the menu before we re-join the N10 to Tours. We plan to wander the back roads towards Blois and drive between the vineyards with the Loire a few miles to our left. Although aiming to visit the chateau at Chambord, the lack signage in the village of Cheverny means that we decide to park up and visit that chateau instead.

The pretty village provides an excellent lunch washed down with glasses of the local rosé and sets up for a walk round our first chateau. The park is not great but the house is superb dating from the early 17th century many of the original features remain and the family of the original owners still live in part of the house. This chateau avoided the worst of the French Revolution thanks to the diplomatic skills of its owner. The rooms on show display antique furniture from the era of Louis XV and XVI and most striking are the wall decorations of painted panels and large Flemish tapestries.

On to Blois and an aire beside the Loire a few minutes form the city centre and a popular spot for some free camping, where we are joined by some 15 other motorhomes. We take a quick tour and find a compact and bustling old city clustered around the chateau and cathedral with many medieval buildings and narrow streets on a hill above the river. Blois had its best years in the 16th century and provided the main French royal residence until 1598 when Henry IV moved his court to Paris but still attracts many tourists travelling through the Loire.

The Journey North Begins

As we travelled back across the peninsular of the Cabo de Gata on Thursday morning we knew that we had just over a week before we were due back in the UK but we had a few plans for stopping off on the way home.

Thursday and Friday were spent on the road with Valencia as our first port of call and the Spanish Pyrenees as our second. The journey to Valencia led us along the coast to Murcia and then North through the hills to Valencia and a site a few hundred metres from the beach but only a few metres from the motorway!!

On Friday we headed through Valencia (some great architecture) to Teruel by motorway and through some fantastic scenery as we climbed through the hills and onto the plateau where the red soil and green of the cereal crops gave a lovely colour palette. The miles flew by and we were soon through Zaragoza and onto Huesca with the Pyrenees as a backdrop.

We have been surprised by the hills and mountains of this part of Spain and the excellent roads have provided us with interesting routes as we have journeyed through the country avoiding the toll roads. One feature which we have seen and enjoyed throughout Spain are the sculptures on the roundabouts and along the motorways which depict some local feature, industry or historical fact.

We stayed the night at a site north of Barbastro (the northern limit of major Moorish settlements) and enjoyed the peace and quiet of a lakeside pitch. As we neared the site we saw a storm travelling across the mountains and flashes of lightening but our luck held and by the time we arrived the storm had passed.

On Saturday we walked along the lake before breakfast and then drove to Ainsi with its chocolate box medieval old town patrolled by red kites. After coffee and shopping we started the journey that would take us over the border into France at Portalait. This involved a two hour drive through the mountains with views of snow capped peaks and deep river gorges. The roads were good, if a little narrow, and the traffic was light. At one point, faced with an on-coming white transit on a particularly narrow stretch we lost part of a wing mirror. Margaret was sent back up the road to retrieve same, which was only a little worse for wear but you should have seen the other guy, he was not amused at his shattered wing mirror - Fords!!

We lunched at 1500 metres on a picnic table with a view of a snowy hillside and then climbed to pass the ski resorts (some skiers still catching the last of the snow) and over the border.

Our plan to re-visit Lac D’Artouste, which we had walked around in the early nineties, was thwarted by lack of a ski lift and so we descended to Laruns for a couple nights by the river and found ourselves in a very French village.

After some investigation into possible walks we were told that the high level routes were still closed by snow but that a valley walk was possible from the village and so Sunday saw us at the boulangerie for pain et croissants before starting the 8km walk. 2km and two hours later we were staggered out onto a level path after climbing 600 metres – we were exhausted and this was the low level walk. However the climb proved worthwhile as we sat for lunch in a meadow at over 1000 metres and looked across to the mountains and down at Laruns in the valley below. Another Springwatch first was a Camberwell Beauty sunning itself on a bridge. The walk down was less vertiginous and we arrived back at the site after five hours and 13km! So much for a gentle stroll but it certainly gave us an appetite for a Sunday evening meal in the local square.

And so to bed ready for an early start.

On Monday we were aiming to reach Bordeaux and had identified a site at St Emilion. It was route across the flat plain of Les Landes and the immense man-made forests that have been planted there. Eventually we climbed into the limestone hills of Bordeaux and made our way between the fields of vines to the site a couple of miles outside the village of St Emilion.

WiFi was on offer and so we were able to catch up with mail and upload some blog. The temperature was well into the 20’s and forecast to be hotter so we decided to enjoy the sun for a couple of days.

On Tuesday we took the campsites shuttle into the village and took a tourist train journey around the vineyards and stopped at Chateau Rochebelle for a tour – all in French – we are trying Emilie. The fact that many of these chateaux have only a few hectares of vines was quite new to us and explains the focus on the relatively few bottles that are produced by each vineyard each year. The village itself is very quaint and fully equipped for the tourists that trek here each year but now quiet and a pleasant place to spend a morning before we are back for an afternoon by the pool in the sun and some route planning for the next few days.

Cabo de Gata

On Monday we headed back to the coast towards Almeria and on to the Cabo de Gata. As we turned East we had the Alpujarras to our left and the sea to our right. Some development has taken place here but vegetable growing is the main occupation and there are acres, mile after mile after mile of plastic covered growing sheds. After Almeria we turned onto the Cabo de Gata peninsular and headed for Las Negras, a small village on the coast. The scenery here is arid and is supposedly one of the driest places in Europe. It was the setting for the spaghetti westerns of the 70’s. John had always thought that these had been made in Italy but evidently the “spaghetti” in the title comes for the fact that the director was Italian. As we drove along we could imagine Clint riding over the very next bluff! De da, dum de da, dum de da, da da da!

At Las Negras, which is at the very end of the road East, we camped next to the beach and the weather was set fair for a few days sunning ourselves. The water was not warm but warm enough to allow a dip and sand was not white but soft enough.

Tuesday was a little cloudy and so we decided to make the two hour hike to the next bay along the coastal path. The scenery was spectacular and the hills and valleys covered with a multitude of flowers. This bay can only be reached by foot and has a ruined castle and abandoned hamlet that has been taken over by hippies. Sure enough there were a number of buildings that were being used by youngsters looking for the simple life and plenty of tents in the undergrowth of the valley that led down to a beautiful sandy beach in a bay surrounded by high cliffs. We found a small cove at one end and spent a pleasant few hours reading, sunning and swimming before returning to Las Negras along the cliff path.

The following day we decided to explore the coast to the West and again found ourselves on a quiet sandy beach. We are still travelling out of season and we are sure that in July and August these places become crowded but the lack of roads and decent transport means that walking the coastal path will still mean that you can find a quiet spot.

We have enjoyed our short time here in this relatively undiscovered and unspoilt part of the coast and hope to return for more of the hippie lifestyle at some time in the future – solid gone man!!!!!!!!!!!

The Alhambra

Sunday started grey and cold but as the bus dropped us in the centre of town the clouds lifted as did the temperature and we had our first view of the Alhambra, the focus of our visit to Granada. Set on its hill above the rest of the city it is easily seen but less easily found on foot. Eventually we reached a gateway and entered the horse chestnut woods (planted by the Duke of Wellington) that surround the walls of the fortress. We went to get our tickets and were told that the visit of EU ministers might cause some disruption. They were attending an informal meeting on information technology – what is that all about – do they call each other by their Christian names?

The Alhambra, we discovered, is made up of four main areas, the old fort, the palaces, the old town and the gardens. Advice was to visit the fort (alcazaba) first and then head for the Generalife gardens. We had a set time to visit the palace at 5:30pm and after that we could try to see the old town although that might be closed off for reasons of security.

The fort is impressive, with its towers and walls that are all well preserved (restored) and which give great views over the city. We spent a good time there enjoying the sunshine and the views whilst soaking up the history of the Moors who came here in around 900 and fortified this hill in stages, ousted the Visigoths and created a city which was the last to fall during the re-conquest in 1492.

Once the area was secured the palaces could be built and the califs and sultans could arrive. The palace and gardens were created in the early 14th century on the adjacent hilltop (Generalife) to provide fruit and vegetables for the rest of the city. These are also well restored and give the best example we have seen while in Spain of Moorish building and design. During the fierce heat of the Summer this made for a cool place where the sultans could relax in the gardens with their fountains and running water to create a peaceful haven.

At the appointed hour we entered the Nasrid Palaces – three palaces built between 1325 and 1391. We are getting pretty good at recognising the design and build techniques of the Muslim architects and Islamic tradition and how these were adopted and adapted by the catholic kings when they took over. Here we saw some great design but cannot be sure that the Alcazar in Seville does not give a more cohesive example. The development of these three palaces is interesting to follow and the position high on the hill is quite unusual and truly stunning. As we moved from room to room and palace to palace with the views over the deep gorge to the north we could really feel what it might have been like to live here.

After almost six hours of wandering and exploring we felt we had an excellent appreciation of the whole and set off through the modern city to catch our bus - past the cathedral and the shopping streets.

To Granada and the Sierra Nevada

We have experienced many of the great monuments of Spain and so the Alhambra at Granada, being the last we planned to visit, had something to live up to. Our plans were put into disarray once we learnt that tickets were sold out for the Thursday on which we planned to visit and that no tickets would be available until the following Sunday. This meant we would need to stay near Granada for a couple of days and we did consider giving it a miss this trip but are very glad we made it.

We drove the coast road from Tarifa, past Gibraltar and along the Med. The Costa del Sol is well known to British holidaymakers but was new to us and after the Costa de la Luz takes on a very different feel. The development here means that the strip of land between sea and mountains is packed solid with villas and apartment blocks and all the advertising boards were in English and we were able to pick up an Englsih language radio station where you could use Wayne for your plumbing and Sharon for her mobile hairdressing.

Once past Malaga we discovered an area known locally as the Costa Tropical where market gardens replaced the concrete jungle and stayed a couple of nights near Torre del Mar next to a sand and shingle beach. On Friday we headed north from the coast on a new motorway that took us to Granada through the mountains. First, the Alpujarras, then the Sierra Nevada gave us spectacular views before we reached the plateau in which Granada is set. As we walked from the camp site at Suspiro del Moro, a few miles outside of the city, we reached the top of a small hill and looked down across a pink city (the colour of the local stone) set in a plain surrounded by high mountains.

On Saturday we took a road tour to the north and went to Gaudix through the Sierra Huétar, a small town set in a fantastic landscape of unusual rock formations. These provided many caves which over the centuries have been made into homes, once primitive in nature now including all mod cons. The red rock and soil provide a foil for the white towns and villages that are set here north of the Sierra Nevada where the high, snow covered mountains were always looming in the background. Scattered amongst the peaks are limestone ridges and it is little surprise that this is a popular walking area.