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.