Holiday in France 2012

Sunday 12^th August 2012

Finally it is our time to set off on holiday. It has been a hectic time at work for both of us and a manic weekend. Friday was eldest son Terry’s wedding to the gorgeous Beth; a day that went far better than anyone had imagined, and Saturday saw the arrival of Ginnette and Michael with their entourage ready for their off the following day.

Oh! by the way; we had also agreed to a family barbeque on Saturday night with Ginnette and co staying overnight. That meant that we would have to see them off before we could finish packing and set off ourselves.

By 11 o’clock Sunday morning we were off, set for Eurotunnel on the final day of the London Olympics. There was a gamble on the route to take: we could follow the M25 by the traditional route and risk heavy traffic on the Essex section, or take the safer bet and head past Heathrow. Mind, the Heathrow section can get just as bad without any effort. We decided on the longer, Heathrow route. Either way, we were early, far too early. I had hoped for an earlier train, but today there were problems and they had had to cancel some earlier trains. It was now 14:15, but we were booked on the 18:20. We managed to get on the 17:20, an hour earlier, so not too bad.

We soon arrived in France, so parked up at Cite Europe and over the road to Flunch for dinner. And then to bed…..

 

Monday 13^th August

A short trip today, just down to the aire at Saint Valery sur Somme; our favourite stopping off place either on the way out or coming back. We were there by 11:00 and a nice cup of coffee. We had made arrangements to meet Ginnette and co that afternoon on their first soiree abroad alone. We gave them the full walking tour of St Valery, that should have knocked the kids out for the evening.

Tuesday 14^th August                      

Rain! Who allowed rain? This is France and rain is for the UK.

OK, it wasn’t heavy, and as we drove south the sky was clearing.

We had set the Sat Nav to head towards Royan, but avoiding toll roads. This is always an interesting option, but provided you are cautious before taking turnings it is quite safe. Width, weight and height restrictions are always shown in advance so they are easy to avoid and I have always believed in the theory that if it is a tarmaced road then something bigger that our motorhome has already driven down it.

First objective for today is to safely clear Rouen; a wonderful old city, but one that fills everyone with trepidation. Take the wrong road through Rouen and you run the risk of losing your roof on the low tunnel, or, if you stop in time, you could be the cause of a major traffic jam. We chose the right road first time and soon were heading away from Rouen.

We made good progress during the day, stopped  for supplies and carried on South.  A few breaks for lunch and tea and it was time to find a place to stop overnight. I had downloaded the latest CampingCar-Infos aires database and put our trust in that. Unfortunately the latest database is not as user friendly as the previous version, there is now no map to show the aires in relation to major towns. It is now a case of compare with a map of some sort. We hit on an aire that was in the middle of nowhere; the place was Irai, near would you believe Beaulieu. This was a small village with a Borne for Camping Cars and a place to stop overnight back up the road outside the primary school. A super spot with a millstream outside the church and then an expanse of space outside the school. We had a barbeque dinner and a very quiet night.

Wednesday 15^th August

Assumption, a day steeped in religious history and for 2012 that was today. A public holiday in France and many other countries. Outside the UK, religious holidays are treated seriously and most businesses are closed. We expected the roads to be busy, thinking that the whole of France would be heading for the beach or another recreation spot. How wrong we were, the roads were clear and we could make the progress that suited us. We had no plans other than the fact that we were due in Medis on Friday. I had read reports about Montreuil-Bellay and that there was an Aire on the road below the Chateau. Sounded good so we headed for that.  Montreuil-Bellay is a very old town and therefore is inundated with very narrow, twisty, and sometimes, very steep roads. Unfortunately, on some roads the priority changes according to the time of year, as does the parking. Once you find your way to the aire, there is no parking before 18:00. The time was only just past 14:00 and we couldn’t park without once again negotiating the narrow causeways of the town to the Northern approaches. We stopped for a while and I consulted the aires database for a suitable place to stop. I was knackered and really did not want to travel any further. Success; there was an aire at St-Martin-de-Sanzay, a few miles further south. The GPS co-ordinates were good, but nobody told TomTom that you can only approach from one direction and that was not ours. No matter, we found our way to an almost deserted car park backing onto a large fishing lake. We chose our spot and decided that this would do for the afternoon and night.

I did say that this was Assumption, the population of this tiny village quadrupled that afternoon and every inhabitant arrived in their cars at the same time. It seems that in rural areas everyone gathers for a Tea Dance in the afternoon of Assumption. 5:00pm came and everyone came out of the Salle de Fetes. “Good” said I to Val, they’re heading to their cars and soon the place will be clear again. I must be a sucker for the unexpected; sure they all headed for their cars, but not to drive away. Without exception every car had hidden away from public view (well at least ours) a picnic table, chairs, a cool box, wine and various items of cutlery and tableware. As if driven by the god of picnics, under every tree for shade was a table and a family tucking into a pre-prepared feast. One hour, 60 minutes, not 59 or 61, later the picnic was over. All tables and chairs were packed away and all participants had gone back into the Salle de Fetes for another session of the tea dance. By 8:30pm it was over and everyone had gone home. Strange…..

We laughed and remembered and laughed again, but best of all we had a great night’s sleep in total silence and solitude.

 

Thursday 16^th August

The only firm dates in the diary are the 17^th to 21^st of August. On those dates we are booked onto a commercial site at Medis, just north of Royan, so today we want to head for a point about halfway between where we are now and Medis. The  ideal large town is Niort; a town that I know very little of. According to CampingCar-Infos there is an aire near the town centre with overnight parking. I had set the co-ordinants into the Sat Navs, but they do not allow for temporary road closures and new one-way systems. We were lost in a strange town with ever narrowing streets. Not normally a problem, but it seems that at the same time as the new breath test law came into force in France so did all remnants of parking ability within French drivers. We headed out on the La Rochelle road, but this was peak season afternoon and the roads were very busy. Quite soon we changed direction and headed more southerly towards Rochefort. We stopped at a cozy layby to survey the options. There was an aire at Mauze-le-Mignon, just off the main road and ready for the final leg tomorrow.

Well, Mauze-le-Mignon was a revelation. As we drove down the street into town, the bunting was out. How could that be? We hadn’t told them we were coming. Then we looked at the bunting, it was all in the shape of T Shirts, different colours, but definitely yellow and green. It seems that Le Tour (The Tour de France) had gone through the town a few weeks previously and the bunting was still up. In fact it was not just the bunting, here was a town dedicated to the bicycle. The aire was at the rear of the Port; this is now a disused port that was once built with it’s own canal to transport local produce, wheat, corn, sunflower oil, and of course wine and Cognac to the ocean going trade ships in ports such as La Rochelle and Rochefort. Anyway, back to the bike story, the road leading down to the Port and the banks around it had been turned into a sculpture gallery for a local artisan who used bike parts as their material.

This is another lovely spot for a peaceful stopover, and a chance to discover yet another beautiful little town. Another reason for an afternoon and evening stroll.

Friday 17^th August

For once we know exactly where we are heading; Camping Le Bois Roland at Medis on the N150 just north of Royan. We made a relaxed start with the only requirement to find a supermarket to stock up on food and fuel. We had only put about 34 litres of Diesel in since we left Maidstone Services on Sunday and even then the tank was not full. Still we were currently showing average fuel consumption of over 27mpg, so I was happy. I know I have a reputation of not being late, but sometimes that works against. We arrived at the site just after 1:00pm, that’s good, or it would be if reception was not closed until 2:30pm. Still, we could wait and have lunch and wait. We had a look round while we waited, not an impressive site. It was dark and cramped and apart from the holiday homes, many camping units looked as though they had been there for at least the whole season if not for years. We had forgotten how different the French sites are compared to the British. The questions started, had we made a mistake? Should we cut and run?. We decided to stay, after all we had planned this trip and had promised ourselves a return to Royan. Then the memory came back, from what we could remember of the sites right on the sea front between Royan and La Tremblade, they were really crowded and over £50 per night. We would stay. We took up our pitch, quite long and very narrow with a mature oak tree on one side and a very mature Rhododendron hedge on the other. There was just sufficient room for motorhome and awning. Plenty of room further back, but then we would have no awning.

As we sat there that afternoon with the temperature in the shade in excess of 36^o Celcius, it dawned on us, this wasn’t a bad site after all. The showers were clean and warm and the pool was clean. This’ll do.  Spend the rest of the day chilling. (Why do they call it that?). A quick walk after dinner to locate the bus stop for tomorrow.

Saturday 18^th August

Today’s adventure is to get the bus into Royan, have lunch and return to the site. The bus from Medis to Royan was about eight minutes late, however it did not matter. Most buses in Royan are timed to meet up at the combined Bus and Train station. This allows passengers on the trains to be met by the buses to the most popular resorts. Once in Royan we took a few  minutes to get our bearings. It’s amazing how when a place hits you, you can recognise it almost at once. Royan was one of those places. We strolled towards the main promenade along the beach and soon realised that even here they were CampingCar friendly and we could easily have spent the night in the parking area adjacent to the bust station. Never mind, we shall remember for the next time. We walked the full length of the promenade to St Georges de Didonne and back, then it was time for lunch. There are plenty of cafes and restaurants within the boulevard that followed the line of the promenade and we chose one with seats conveniently in the cooling breeze for our lunch.

After lunch it was time to wander in the other direction, past the port and to the more select beach in a more secluded bay. The tide was coming in as was the Ferry across the Gironde estuary to Verdon sur Mer. There was a queue of traffic for the ferry, which was the excuse needed for that great French custom; if there is a queue of traffic then there must be a cause, the way to fix the cause is to blow your horn. If the queue doesn’t move then obviously your horn blowing could not have been heard, so blow it for longer. This should encourage some other simpleton of a French driver to believe that this method of traffic clearance is effective and therefore they should join in. Sooner rather than later you have a crescendo that is louder than a Jumbo Jet taking off. The traffic hasn’t moved, but at least everyone in the queue knows that somebody else has held it up. Seems peculiar to me that even the driver at the front of the queue always joins in the horn blowing.

Time to head back to the bus station. I was disappointed to see that since our last visit to Royan there has been a decline in lawfulness. On several occasions whilst walking along the promenade it became obvious that there had been a serious spate of brassiere thefts. Whilst this increased my pleasure and constantly reminded me that I had been promised fried eggs for breakfast tomorrow, it is shameful that a young lady should pay for two parts for her swimming costume and then suffer the theft of one part.

Back at the bus station there was another interesting sight. Within five minutes of the bus being due all bays were empty. Suddenly, one bus appeared and then another, and another, and on it went until every parking bay was filled. The train then arrived at the station and many passengers emerged from there. They filtered to their relevant bus, installed their luggage in the hold, got on the bus and within a few minutes all of the buses were on their way.

Once back at the site it was dinner, walk, rest and bed. Another hot, tiring day.

Sunday 19^th August

This was down as a day of rest and recuperation. Unfortunately, Val had remembered a few things that she could do with from the shop. We had seen a L’Eclerc Hypermarket on the way to Royan yesterday and thought that it was not too far to walk. Sure enough, checking the sat nav showed that it was only 2 km from the site. Now even I know that 2km is only 1.25 miles, 20 minutes walk. Well, 45 minutes later and extremely hot, we arrived. A cold drink of Iced Tea was called for. A suitable cold drink and time to walk back. Hot and wet were the best words to describe the state when we returned. Time to hit the pool. At least the pool was cool and refreshing. This was just as well as the next round of punishment was due. Val had noticed on the way back from the Hypermarket that the bushes were full of blackberries waiting to be picked. Oh, good idea coming!!! We could get the bikes off the rack and cycle down to where they were and pick loads for free puds. Well free is my kind of price, but it is hot and I just want to relax.

Quite soon we were on the bikes heading for the blackberry bushes. This was fun, we were getting free food and my arms were extensively lacerated. On top of all that, suddenly the sky had blackened and it was raining. I thought I was soaked. I had certainly felt enough of the wet stuff for it to be so, but when I checked my shirt was dry. One of the benefits of the heat. Enough blackberries picked, and time to head back. This was a slow process as one member of our party did not feel comfortable about cycling in a cycle lane facing the opposing traffic. I explained that this was France, so no traffic laws applied. Eventually we arrived back at the site.

We do know how to have fun!!!

On the subject of fun, we sat out for the rest of the afternoon as the pool was quite crowded. As we sat, we could see everyone going to and from the pool. I happened to comment as one very large French lady walked past that the water level would rise by 6 inches as soon as the whale got into the pool. Well, this kept us laughing for the next two hours as we graded mainly women, but sometimes men and occasionally families on their water displacement value. Fit women were privately scored by me. It had to happen, eventually we got to a Len Goodwin SEVEN!!!. In fact we saw a perfect ten, but she did not go into the pool.

Monday 20^th August

A different kind of day today. We had decided that we needed to spread our wings a bit further. We wanted to get to Saint Palais sur Mer before we left Royan, but the buses did not tie in. We could get one way, but not the other. The only option was to take the van; something that we had never done before. We had only used commercial sites in locations where we could get out and about either on foot, bus or by bike. Saint Palais was different, there were no safe cycle routes that could get us there. Plenty of cycling in the towns, but due to the very heavy traffic in the area, it was not safe between towns.

So, twenty minutes to remove the bikes from the rack and the rack from the towbar, lock them all together and we were on our way. Saint Palais sur Mer isn’t far, about 10 miles. It is just over the next headland. With the traffic we took about 20 minutes for the journey. It is still the small, select seaside town that we remembered. Today was market day, so something else to explore. It was hot, but there was just a light refreshing breeze coming in from the sea. We spent a couple of hours wandering around St Palais and then took a drive up and through the pine forest that overlooks the bay.

Monday late afternoon was an excuse to get back to the inch game. Not so much movement, it seems that most of the fat women had either gone home or been magicked away to be replaced by fit birds. I was happy, but madame couldn’t see the entertainment value.

 

Tuesday 21^st August

Time to leave Camping de Bois Roland at Medis. This then was the start of our slow journey northwards. We decided that where possible we would make short journeys in order to break up the travelling and give us a different place to visit every day.

Today’s stop is at Lezay, a small town about 20 miles south of Poitiers. The aire was in the market car park, perfectly acceptable especially as there was a large grassed area at the back that was eminently suitable for sitting out and eating later on. Tuesday is market day and we were fortunate in catching that tail end of the market. There was sufficient for us to walk around before lunch. After lunch we were able to make our customary exploration. We found the livestock market that had obviously been on that morning as well as the normal commodity market. Unfortunately, once the markets have cleared, this is a town that normally sleeps. By 3:00 in the afternoon almost nothing happens. Most shops don’t bother reopening, what there are of them. We found the municipal campsite. According to TomTom, the site is about a mile away from where we were. When we got there we found that we could see the van from the entrance. What a shame that despite the advances in technology, TomTom still cannot get it right. There were no restrictions on any roads, so no excuses.

The municipal campsite was cheap, very cheap, and there were reasons. It was small; about eight pitches and even they were cramped. There was one shower, two loos and two basins for washing. A swimming pool was advertised, but this was the town public pool that was on the other side of the public park and closed on Tuesday. Looking at what was floating on the water, I would not relish the joy of using it.

By Tuesday night the numbers of motorhomes had swelled to five, in an area advertised as capable of sixty. Needless to say it was a quiet night.

Wednesday 22^nd August

Where to head was the question. We had plenty of time to head north without straining ourselves and initially decided to head for Fontevraud l’Abbaye. Well it sounded good. A couple of hours easy driving and we were there. Unfortunately, the aire was in the middle of a housing estate and was already packed to the gunwhales. We decided to give it a miss. There were other choices, La Fleche is recommended, but the last time we visited we were not impressed. Durtal was another choice. This is a beautiful medieval town with a new attraction at every corner. The Chateau has become a care home and the water mill sits aside a perfectly calm mill pond. However, the aire is a corner of the car park, not level; great for a quick stop for the night, but we had an afternoon to fill as well. A look at the Aires list showed an Aire at Arnage. Not too far up the road and steeped in history from the 24 Heures Du Mans. We have driven the Mulsanne Straight several times, both before the obligatory chicanes and since. We had also visited the Museum, but we had never visited the section from Mulsanne to the main stand entrance. This was our opportunity, to get to Arnage from the south, you turn left at the end of the Mulsanne straight and follow the course round to where the track leaves the public road for a short section in front of the stands and pits.

This is a magnificent piece of road, you can feel the atmosphere at every bend. If you wanted to you could also feel every grain of tyre rubber left on the track from last year’s race. You can imagine every gory detail of the accidents from the obvious high speed skid marks. The Armco may have been repaired, but you cannot erase skid marks, nor would you want to here.

The Aire at Arnage is just for two Camping Cars, but we were the only ones there for the night. At the bottom of the slope is a footpath/cycle path that leads along the river. Just at that point there is a gate that is designed to force cyclists to dismount, therefore slowing down in favour of other users of the path. Now this gate is a source of endless conversation as no-one can figure out how it is to be used. Actually, it is quite simple, it is just a case of realising that a cycle with the front wheel at 90 degrees to the frame is considerably shorter. Once the bike is inside the gate, you can swivel it and let the bike turn with the gate. Then you can extract your bike from the gate. Unfortunately, every user tried to take their bike through without turning the front wheel. They were lifted, up-ended, pushed, pulled, thrown, every which way except the correct one.

Despite it’s claim to fame, Arnage dies at night. There are several bars and restaurants. Most of the bars are only open at lunchtime and of those open at night, we counted three customers. Of the restaurants open in the evening, not one had any customers.

Thursday 23^rd August

Another day for travelling, not too far; but ever closer to the channel. We had not settled on a destination for the day as the Aires list did not give much detail of the facilities at the possible candidates. Eventually we decided on Bouquetot, a tiny hamlet south west of Rouen. Importantly, it was just off of the main road to Pont de Brotonne, which we would need to use on Friday if we were to avoid Rouen. We made it to Bouquetot in time for lunch and immediately decided to move on straight after lunch. The “Aire” was a gravel car park on a slope with no facilities at all, not even a tap for water and definitely nowhere to empty waste. On top of that, on the field immediately adjacent to the car park was a group of itinerant travellers. An alternative was needed and fortunately, about 15 miles up the road was our salvation; one of the nicest Aires in northern France. The Aire at La Mailleraye sur Seine is on the edge of this interesting town and right on the banks of the River Seine. This is the part of the Seine where it is still navigable by ocean going freight ships, the speciality seems to be liquid gas transport. The sight of these vast ships travelling a matter of yards in front of you is great. There are also the Seine Cruisers, very similar to the massive passenger boats that ply the Rhine . This was our obvious next choice. For the first time on this holiday the weather was not in our favour. The breeze was rising and was coming in from the West so it was cooling as it followed the path of the water. Very soon it was decidedly chilly. There was a sudden gust that lifted the corner of the awning. Two minutes later and the awning was fully rewound.

For the second year running, the overnight rain was torrential and noisy and the lightning display was fantastic. There is an extra something about lightning over an expanse of water.

A young couple took the pitch next to us at Mailleraye, the guy was severely disabled and confined to a wheelchair. They were on their way to the Murcia area of Spain where they were moving home. A new life changing Somerset for the hills of Spain. They had a trailer, which was loaded with the white goods from their English home. We didn’t have much opportunity for a chat, but what we did have showed that they were a remarkable and determined couple.

Friday 24^th August

We woke to what was to become a stunning morning, but first the mist had to clear. The morning mist was casting some remarkable images on the river and the hills behind.

By the time that we were ready the mist had cleared; Friday before heading home so set the Sat Nav for Saint Valery sur Somme. It was a good journey, until I decided that I knew better than TomTom. We saw some quite beautiful villages, some of them very slowly and in some we saw the houses more than once as we reversed to navigate the main road.

The aire at Saint Valery was the emptiest that we have ever seen it. We managed to get into town and back before the rain started; and it rained, and it rained, and it rained. Fortunately, it stopped just before bedtime so at least a quiet night tonight.

Saturday 25^th August

The rain has still held off, but is on it’s way. By the time we were ready to leave the rain was just starting. By the time we made it to the Motorway, it was torrential but cleared as we drove into Coquelles. We filled up with diesel at Auchan and then stopped at Auchan to check booze prices. Their once excellent selection is now very disappointing.

Lunch, and then round to Cite Europe. Time to do some serious booze shopping. Now the rain has returned with a vengeance and it was not to stop that day. It was not possible to get out without getting soaked. We managed to get the essential supplies (105 bottles of wine plus 2 casks and 11 cases of beer), and got them safely stowed in the back of the motorhome.

Sunday 26^th August

Time to go home; quick five minute trip to the Eurotunnel check in, onto the train and up the Motorway home. As we left the Eurotunnel terminal at Folkestone, the sun started shining and the temperature rose. Soon, the temperature was back up to the point where we had to switch on the air con. By 11:00 am we were home after what we both agreed was another different and excellent holiday. Of for the days when we are no longer bound by school holidays and a two week rule.

This year’s photo album is here