France/Spain 2022 (Week One)

Locking up and leaving the house this time for some reason unsettled us and I’ve an almost a feeling of melanchony, maybe because we’ve been house hunting & having put it on the market and made an offer we’re ready to move. We’re still annoyed at having to walk away from the lovely house we’d offered on at pretty little Derbyshire village of Kirk Ireton as parking our van on the drive is forbidden due to a covenant. Katie also plans to move out when we’re back later in the year, so we’ll be empty nesters. There’s also a feeling of leaving an unusual extreme heatwave knowing that when we’re back at the end of October we’re heading into winter.

That all said I’m excited to be crossing the channel again and heading into the

unknown, we plan to get into Spain; maybe North coast but we’ll see. We started our trip by breaking our journey at Ashwell, at a site we used on our return trip last year. It’s a pleasant sizeable village, 3 pubs to choose from although we settled at the closest to the site as it was baking hot. Alarm clock was not necessary in the morning, as a flock of wood pigeons decided to turn our roof into a dance floor at 5:30 am, squawking through the open vent. We then continued south, staying at Denstone, near Folkestone after collecting the ludicrously bureaucratic pet certificate for Daisy to allow her to get into the EU and taking a pleasant walk along the seafront at Sandgate in the hazy sunshine, as storms beckon. Otherwise a peaceful night and a complication free tunnel crossing after the mayhem a few weeks earlier at peak weekend.

Once across into France I was soon reminded how dull the drive is, traffic free to be fair but a mind numbing landscape either side of the toll roads save for an increasing number of viaducts as we migrate ever south. Our SatNav decided to disregard my selection of this for convenience just being a mile off the motorway. Laughing no doubt as it directed us off the main road a good hour early than expected and sat us behind every tractor, combine harvester and all other conceivable slow moving traffic on this toll free single track road. He made up with it by taking us over a remarkable bridge over the Sein. We consoled ourselves by presuming it picked an hour long diversion to avoid a single road cone on the toll road.

Our first stopover that Tuesday was at Bourg Achard, the site being an easy walk to a fairly mundane but typical small town. Beers were heady Grimbergers, served in a thimble, whether we wanted it or not but it was pleasant to be sat with the locals in for their after work social. IT issues on Mrs H’s part which took best part of a day to resolve (with her phone doing well to have avoided being thrown out of window at speed), a problem with the boiler plus a disturbed few nights sleep with storms etc led to a few days perhaps not as relaxed as we should be.

2nd night in we found a quiet municipal site in the agricultural village Vaars nicely located by the Loire and next to the impressive Abbey. The village has seen better days, we noted 3 bars and several shops long closed down and the square with the remaining Tabac and Logis hotel looked starved of council funding. The bar we did get our aperitif beers in was very typical and the friendly owner enjoyed a laugh at my Allo Allo ordering. I thought was quite good at that, apparently not!

Aiming toward Bergarac tomorrow, see how we get on. We’ve done 540 miles so far and already blown our fuel budget for August according to our book keeper; at least the site on that Wednesday has reduced our average at less than £8 to offset the extravagance of using club sites in the UK portion of the trip.

With the longer term direction of travel still unknown and undecided we continued south and after a few hours peeled off at a “Village Etape” sign for Mansle, just off the toll free N10. We knew there to be a municipal site at the edge of this pretty village, next to a river and well presented sports and water sports facility. We were met at the site by a closed barrier, an equally closed reception and an animated French family all telling us it was shut, I think; despite grass cutting underway and a few vans pitched up. Often we see receptions closed until late afternoon but the woman was adamant, and sat staring at us whilst we looked for an alternative. After a while they all wandered over toward us, but just stood pointing at a pile of dog Pooh next to the van. The kids were fascinated by it, I suppose it was quite a splendid shit but nothing to do with Daisy. We departed anticipating Gendarmerie becoming interested.

We had more luck 15 miles further south at the charming small town of Montignac; Charente. Pleasant open site, barrier was opened out of reception times by a resident and an equally warm welcome at the friendly Tabac in the pretty square 10 minutes walk away; Daisy in particular was made a fuss of. I was able to ask the owner in French how old her dog was and reciprocate without making a twat of myself.

For the weekend we decided on a bigger, more commercial site advertised as next to a castle (which it was in the grounds of) & adjacent small town (in which there’d clearly been a zombie apocalypse recently as it was completely dead) There was one small, seedy looking bar with the grubby canopy wound so far down you need to duck to get in, first negotiating the barrier in front of it. There was also a closed pizza restaurant. Good job we didn’t get dressed up for an evening out enjoying a few glasses of wine.

Saturday we followed the quiet lanes for the 10 mile bike ride into St Emillion, that is after Mrs H put her back out lifting Daisy into her carrier. This added to her discomfort also having being bitten to buggery by every flesh eating insect in Bordeaux and the greenery of the site. The area is lovely and the vineyards and attached pristine sandy stone built chateaux give a feeling of affluence. The grapevines, abundant with their plum coloured fruit have a pleasing geometric, almost military planting.

Saint Emillion is a lovely place, a medieval city full of historic cobbled streets, upmarket shops, restaurants and bars. Daisy got a lot of attention as I wheeled her round in her bike carrier, that is until the steepness increased and she was ejected and put on her lead. She then became a four headed alien for some reason, with the pristinely dressed locals somehow unable to comprehend I was struggling to steer the pushed bike and keep her from tripping them up as they refused to deviate from their intended path. One chap in particular just stopped and stared at the lead as she darted in front of him to try and investigate an inviting shop doorway.

To close this chapter we find ourselves 3 hours further south from yesterday and now a week since leaving home and with improving scenery after a good part of the route being unexpectedly flat, 970 miles done and parked up on a lovely site at Cauterets for 3 days, 860m up in the Pyrenees. More on that in week 2.