Category Archives: Country

On to Embrun

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Driving to Embrun

We headed off today for Embrun, taking the toll road to cut the journey by an hour or so. The périphérique around Lyons was fun (well, I thought it was) with continually changing lanes and large quantities of traffic. Not so fun was the French driver on his mobile phone gesticulating in a very Gallic manner, but who suddenly decided to move into the same lane as me at the same point along the road. A very quick and hard brake saved the day. Despite blaring at him he seemed totally oblivious to the near accident and was still gabbling on his phone and gesticulating. I expect he was steering with his knee!  Where are the Gendarmes? There are signs to them at turnoffs. Maybe this is why?

A short stop to buy a loaf of bread and then later to eat, during which time R got herself stung by a wasp, to add to her collection of mosquito bites.

As we approached Embrun we had a quick rethink about which campsite to visit. One with a washing machine and tumble drier was high on Rosemary’s list. So we ended up staying in Baratier a couple of K from Embrun in Camping Les Deux Bois. The Madame was not in residence so we did a quick tour of the site and discovered the washing machine and tumble drier, so they were still in service despite the season.

But Madame found us, and ladened us down with pamphlets, maps, the wifi code & her phone number lest we get lost. She was very helpful in finding a pitch with the correct sunrise and sunset positions. She was also very careful to ensure all temporary residents were not on top of each other. Delightful lady.

This night we had a meal of pork strips (cannot describe them), onions and celeriac and a bottle of Provence rosé.

Friday walking around Baratier

Friday was a bright and sunny day, Thursday had mainly been sunny, but a short shower had occurred as we had reached Embrun. We went for the short walk on the Baratier map where we saw some Roman ruins and Meadow Saffron flowers. (Typically, R insisted I photo these at great inconvenience to me. When we returned to our pitch, there they were.) This walk was mainly on the level and started from the Place du Village.

Arriving back, we had lunch in the Bar La Cantine, a three-course meal starting with salad (fish, or gizzards) and then mains of Lasagne or Moules Frits. (Also dessert which only I managed.) All were very good, you can guess who had which main. R, yet again, managed to find a cat, a pretty long haired tabby with white stockings. Wretched animal did not like moules! Can you believe it? She’s French for goodness sake. I had to leave that one on the side of my plate.

After lunch, R vegged out whereas I went for a quick walk 7K walk with a 420meter rise. I managed to just beat the suggested duration of 2 hours 30 minutes, but was pretty knackered when I got back. R had read several chapters of “The Essex Serpent”.

Neither of us fancied anything to eat for supper.

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Saturday walking to Embrum

Today we decided to explore Embrun, and took the rash decision to walk there. Most of the way was on a fairly busy road. Our first stop on arrival was a gallery with an exhibition called the Bleu Nuit, sic, not Nuit Bleu. This took place in the L’Abattoir, an exhibition space for the community. The building was small and old and I assume not now used for its original purpose. There were some fabulous tables for sale, at fabulous prices. R liked the metal animal sculptures, again with fabulous prices.

We then wandered into the old part of the town, and enjoyed a beer at Jack’s Bar, before more sightseeing. At another bar we watched the market being dismantled and the street cleaner come in and clean up the mess.

By this time, we were thinking of lunch, though many of the cafés were busy serving they seemed to set a time of 13:15 to stop new customers. Alas we had missed lunch, so we continued our walk back home on another route, across a small bridge and along some quieter roads (being taken unaware by a chap resembling a Hare Krishna monk plus his dog) and accompanied by much moaning from R re her knees, the sun, etc etc. (I recalled her moaning re the lack of sun when we were in NZ. Do not understand women, or at least my example.)

 

 

Sunday French Lunch

Decided to stay on for another day and have a French Sunday lunch. Disaster – the café where we had eaten on Friday was closed on Sundays. Quick inspection of various sights in the village. I walked up to the Hotel des Peupliers and booked a table for two for lunch in my bestest French. (Phrase ready on my google translate.) Well that went well, except I seemed to make a bog-up of the time.

Arrived for lunch before others, but soon the restaurant was full both inside and outside. Our orders were taken by a delectable woman who had lived in England for a couple of years so spoke English very well.

I do like the simplicity of the menus, one decision removed is the cost, all the contingents for a course are the same price, and there is none of the 50, 90, 95 or 99 cents business to try and fool you into thinking the price is one euro less.

After we were seated, we had our aperitifs, beer for me and Perroquet (pastis, Ricard, with mint syrup) for Rosemary. We’d seen this as a new bottled Ricard offering in the supermarkets and wanted to try it. R said it smelt very much of Ricard, but tasted much sweeter. A homemade version with a less sugary syrup could be the solution. Our orders were then taken by the same delectable waitress. While we waited, we were served a good amuse bouche, which we decided was a thick vegetable soup.

I had: Fish in a package (but not called en papillote) with basil plus a salad of (much to R’s approval) double-podded broadbeans and cabbage. Confit Alpine lamb with an aubergine and cumin (oddly translated as caraway) caviar, and potatoes. Followed by a selection of local cheeses.

R had: Poached egg atop Mediterranean vegetables. Veal with quinoa salad & sage, followed by faisselle (a local cream cheese) served with a portion of very fragrant Baratier honey

The pink Provencal wine was delicious; whenever we drink it in a bar or restaurant, it is good, whenever we buy it in a supermarket, it leaves something to be desired.

Back at the campsite and vegging out for the afternoon. Ah, R has finished another book and is worried at this rate, she may have to read one of my Asimovs. I do not see a problem. We watch out for Red Squirrels.

Villerest 11th 12th September

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We had a long drive today, setting off at 10:19 from Jen and Bev. A stop on the way at the supermarket, a few minutes before we arrived at Villerest where we were stayed at the Camping L’Oree du Lac.

The campsite was open, but most of the facilities had closed the previous week. No bar, no shop and no swimming pool. Only a small loo & shower block was open, and I had to cross my legs in the morning waiting for a cubicle to become free.

But R found the camp cat and was suitably impressed. Later she spotted Puss with a harness and quizzed the owners. Seems they were to go on holiday and wanted Puss to be trained to a lead, so she could go too. Fat chance, thought R, especially as Puss was seven.

The morning was spent walking around the area, first along the lake in a pretty deserted resort area with beach, swimming pool. One restaurant was open and we stopped for a pleasant beer. We followed a walk and ended up in the town of Villerest. Some quaint houses, but no shops and no real bars. We did chance upon a tabac / post office / bar (Le Grand Logis) where we drank a couple of glasses of a very pale rosé from Provence. Very good. R managed to buy “stamps”.

Stopped off at the Marie where there was a loo, with a nearby well. We continued our walk which took us down to the river Loire. You couldn’t actually get to the river, just fleeting glances through the trees. Here it appeared to be flowing fast, the only water would be from the outlet of the hydro electric dam further up, immediately below the campsite.

I walked over the dam, to take some photographs. The bright sunlight was now blotched by clouds and a thunder storm started to brew, followed by much banging & flashing. After darkness we did get a few drops of rain, but we’d eaten and were secure.

The dam appeared to temporarily stop flowing both nights at 18:00.

Jen and Bev 9th-10th

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Packed up from Arcais in the dry and set off for Jen and Bev. First stop was fuel as we were low, Google maps allows you to plot a route and then you can ask it for fuel stations on route. It also has helpful information as to whether the fuel station is open, (important information on a Sunday in France), and also a rating as to its popularity. So we chose a fuel stop on the way and replenished our empty tank, some 110 Euros.

On the way we stopped at a popular Aire Claude Bonnier where we had stopped previously and ordered chips and steak hache from a van. Masses of trucks down the road stopped for their enforced Sunday rest day.

Hardly a kilometre down the road, R (eagled eyed for such things) spotted a “Bric a Brac” aka “vide grenier” aka “car boot”. We stopped. R not impressed by the only Ricard glasses & carafe on sale, but she did buy two old cast-iron laundry irons. She wants them as bookends, for her newly culled library. The owner felt she needed his gas fuelled offering, but she quickly demonstrated its uselessness in supporting “livres”. He regarded us with a “nutty tourists” air.

Arrived at Jen and Bev’s and parked the van with some dexterity on their gravel in front of their house. R delighted to renew acquaintance with Jen’s cat Wilma, who must be 16. Lotty dog ran around in tight circles at 90 mph in great delight, full of joie de vivre. Hector dog retained his dignity.

This year, our bbq outside, cooked by Bev, with many accoutrements supplied by Jen, was not cut short by a thunderstorm.

On the Monday we set out to the village of Oradour-sur-Glane. This village has been preserved with its ruined buildings from June 1944 when the German SS rounded up all the men, women and children in the village and murdered them. A very few managed to escape. 642 of its inhabitants were massacred. Dreadful. A sombre reminder of man’s inhumanity to man.

Afterwards we had a beer in a local bar to brighten us up and then headed on home. The evening meal was at a British restaurant which served large beers and had a British menu. We all ate curries of various types. Mine was a hot curry, and it was definitely a hot curry, not catering for the French taste.

Arcais 6th – 8th September

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Today we packed up the van and left the campsite for Arcais, some five hours drive. A short break, with an hour left to drive, where we went to the loo and drank a coffee.

We arrived in Arcais at 16.21. We chose a pitch in the usual location by the lake and watched a man wade around the pond trying to retrieve his fishing tackle. The van was soon readied, so we walked up along the water ways to see the Eatons who gave us a very good pork supper.

Our next day was a lazy stay at home day. We walked up to the Eatons after breakfast, spent time on the Internet and at lunch. Linda and Rosemary disappeared off to a charity sale, come car boot sale.  R ended up buying 4 glasses to replace the one she’d broken on our first day. In the evening we walked back to the campsite along the canal with bat detector on. We heard bats, but also some other strange sounds at 20Khz which sounded more like a throbbing engine. (I have heard these since and they are quite localised in a tree. Some insect I expect. Wasps fanning in a nest??)

On Saturday we all went into Niort and searched for somewhere to eat. On the walk into town we passed books being given away, (for a donation if you wanted, R never saw the donation bit). R bought a Simenon, and was amazed to see it was first published in 1931 and Maigret was portly. Mike was keen to eat at a particular Thai restaurant, but it was alas closed on Saturdays, but said the patron with great pride, open on Mondays. Does that actually help?? We discovered a new Thai restaurant which did takeaways, and had some tables on the street. The food was fine, but not chilli hot, instead toned down for the French pallet.

Walked around the city and ventured into the old part where there were some fine buildings.

Back in Arcais for the evening, we all ventured to the “hippy bar”, which is open three months a year and has some live music. Tonight, we were entertained to some French Hip-Hop music. R surprised herself by thinking some of it was not bad.

Beautiful bright starlit evening in the campsite.

 

 

Day 2 – Monet et Giverny

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Cloudy and warm day when we set off to Giverny by a route which took us up out of the river valley across some very flat arable land with huge fields and then down back into the river valley and into Giverny. The rain started, or rather the heavy mizzle descended requiring the wipers to go on full time. We parked in the Camping Aire next to some large motor homes. Nearby were some ten coaches, so we realised we were not going to have the gardens to ourselves. The rain had stopped, it was warm, but we did take rain jackets to ward off further rain.

A short walk, via Monet’s bust, took us to Monet’s gardens where we paid 9.50 Euro each to enter.  You walk through the gift shop and into the main gardens. These had some magnificent flowers in closely planted huge borders. R was in raptures.

You cross underneath the road (with the signature green & pink colouring) into the Lily Gardens where you are met with a bamboo forest. We walked across the famous Japanese Bridge which is now covered with wisteria and looks nothing like it was when Monet painted his pictures of it and the pond. You walk around the garden, waiting and taking pictures where there were the least number of people.  As the day progressed there were noticeable less visitors; must be lunch time.

Back across in the main garden we visited the house which was stunning. The yellow dining room was vividly yellow, a great display of copper in the kitchen. R wanted a particular chair in the studio area.

The village income seems totally geared around Monet, with galleries, gift shops, restaurants and gites. The narrow streets were one way, but some were even traffic free. We walked along the length of Rue Claude Monet, past the restaurants, past the bars, past the galleries to the church where Monet was buried. We also viewed the memorial to the impossibly young British aircrew who had crashed and died in their Lancaster, nearby during WWII.

Back to the van, we then drove home, via an Intermarche in a rather unsalubrious area of Les Andelys to buy some beers for the evening. The mizzle started again as we drove across the plateaux and it rained while we were shopping. The was the end of the rain, and we spent the evening eating and watching the river boats pass.

One cruise boat was moored at Les Andelys. Another came up stream and waited in the river to moor. It must have waited in the middle of the river for half an hour for the first boat to leave. The first boat left, we waved at the passengers as they all headed on towards Paris.

Tomorrow we are off the Arcais to see Mike and Linda. Weather forecast to have some rain, and then that should be the end of it. By the time we arrived we should have missed it, and then it’s looking good for the next seven days.

 

Day 1 – Les Andelys and The Trois Rois

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Off on holiday to France (Rosemary asks what is the meaning of a holiday when you are not working). Dismal day, cloudy in the UK and it turned out to be cloudy with some mizzle in France. At least it was warm enough to sit outside for drinks and supper when we arrived in Les Andelys.

The drive to the channel tunnel was a breeze, no speed restrictions on the M25 on the northern route to the tunnel, despite it being the rush hour. I presume the rush hour is a breeze, only experienced drivers and trucks are on the road at that time. We arrived in oodles of time and were resigned to buying a coffee and muffin breakfast before boarding the train. Google had come up trumps; she predicted a travel time of two hours and twenty minutes and so it was.

Once boarded, we sat and read our mobile phones and ipads and listened to the love overtures from the two channel tunnel attendants, luckily in French so we couldn’t understand. So soon we were arriving in France, and straight off on to the motorway.

Yes, it did mizzle on the drive the Les Andelys, which is on the River Seine, it is also about 20K from Giverny.  Still we ate outside in a warmish, overcast evening and I am writing this as it turns to nine. Not so bad.  We are staying at the Three Kings Island campsite or its French name of Camping de l’lle des Trois Rois. It is right on the River Seine where huge barges and Viking river cruises pass by. On the other side there is a small lake with Coots and Grey Herons. The pitches are all hedged off and we have quite a spacious one. There seem to be quite a few Brits and several VW campervans. The grass is green here in this part of France, lusher than at home.

After dark we had a walk around the campsite armed with the bat detector. There were a few flying around which we heard and saw. Over by the lake, there was an almost constant sound of bats, these we never saw because I assume they were flying low over the dark lake.  We managed to disturb a mammal which plunged into the water, an Otter, or Coypu?

Tomorrow we will visit Monet’s house and gardens in Giverny which is some 20K away. It looks like a wet day with maybe 3mm of rain. I will be hoping for some fabulous pictures of rain drops on the pond and lilies.  Afterwards we will have a walk around Les Andeleys where there is a ruined chateau overlooking the campsite and town. Another night and then off to Arcais to see Mike and Linda when the weather will be so much, better complete with sun.

Guernsey in June

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Sunset as we arrive to English Isle

On the Wednesday we set off for Guernsey in Morrison our VW T5 campervan conversion. Arrived at Poole in plenty of time for the hydrofoil trip to Guernsey. The hydrofoil ferry was late leaving, it seemed to take an eternity to load and was totally full. Larger vehicles were asked to reverse on, including one caravan. Needless to say the caravan made a pig’s ear of this and had to give up. We later heard that the previous day’s ferry had been cancelled and that this was why our’s was so crammed.

Eventually, the ferry left in sunshine and made its slow way out of the Harbour and along the coast of Studland. At the Old Harry Rocks it accelerated for the trip across to Guernsey.  But at this point sea fog arrived and accompanied us all the way across to Guernsey. We never saw Alderney nor the Casquet Rocks.

On entering the waters between Herm and Guernsey the ferry stopped, turned around and went around the far side of Herm and entered St Peter Port from the south. The lack of visibility and yachts caused the Captain to take a safer, more prudent route.  We disembarked and made our way to the Fauxquets Valley Campsite arriving at 8.32.  We were welcomed and parked our van for supper and the night.

Thursday Saint Peter Port and the Victorian Shop

Today we walked down to King’s Mills and caught the bus to St Peter Port, where Rosemary found a couple of charity shops, so bought more books (oh and a CD for me). Lunch at the White Hart pub and then to the National Trust Victorian Shop. Lovely warm day and it was good looking around St Peter Port.

Friday Biker Caff

Today we walked down to the coast, to the Biker Caff (aka Vistas Beach Café) for a coffee and the on to La Grande Mare Hotel. We were looking for the Twinkle the cat, but she was not around. Instead we caught the round the island bus to Saint Peter Port where we then caught the bus back to near the campsite.

Tonight was pizza night, we had pre-ordered our pizza and now decided on the toppings. They were quickly cooked in the new wood-fired pizza oven.

Saturday road closures

A lovely hot sunny day, we set off to Kings Mill to catch the bus again to The Imperial Hotel, where we intended to walk along the south coast path. Instead we were ceremonially dumped near to L’Eree. The bus was not going any farther, due to some road works somewhere. We walked along the coast to the Imperial Hotel.  The orchids were over in the orchid fields, where we had seen them last year. The succulents were well past their flowering.

At the Imperial we stayed for a pint of beer. Had a lovely pint, can’t remember the name, other than it was a London craft beer. We continued along the coast, looked at the German war defences, admired the twinkling blue light in the sunlit sea. Eventually we called it a day and headed to the Route de Pleinmont to catch the first bus that came along. Actually had hoped to change buses at the airport, but alas our bus was late, so we missed the connection. Saint Peter Port, and then back home.

Sunday Castel Walk

Today we went for a long walk from the campsite through Castel along the green lanes. We headed eventually to the Biker Caff for a light lunch before heading home. Lovely sunset.

Monday Auberge at Jerbourg

We walked down to La Grand Mare to catch the bus going anti-clockwise around the island. The intention and actuality was to alight at St Martin’s and walk to the Auberge. This round the island bus always gets a running commentary from the driver. The journey is a popular trip for tourists and cruise boat inmates.

At the Auberge, which we visit every year, we had a very good meal as usual. Being a Monday it was going to be quiet, so we had not booked. Why does the head waiter proceed with the charade of saying he is going to search for a table? And when we left he thanked us for our unexpected visit.

Caught a bus from outside the restaurant to Saint Peter Port where we bought some food from the Co-Op, then back home.

Tuesday a Mystery

I had turned off location support on my phone, so Google has not recorded my movements. I don’t know what we did today. I think it was a lazy day and we stayed in camp reading. R saw a kestrel dive very suddenly, without any hovering in advance, and retrieve a mouse. We also saw some very large, bright green crickets.

Wednesday to Herm Island

Up early and caught the bus to Saint Peter Port for the ferry to Herm and the Rosaire Steps. We walked north and across the island to Shell Beach, where Rosemary spent an inordinate amount of time searching for miniscule molluscs. I believe she was a little disappointed in the lack of finds.

Now we walked along the east coast cliffs, and around the south to the Rosaire Steps to catch the ferry home. Quite a windy day and the gulls were displaying their adeptness for soaring the cliffs.

Back in Saint Peter Port we stopped at the Terrace Rooftop café for a beer before departing back to the campsite.

Thursday The Beach House

Last day in Guernsey, so packed away and drove along the North coast to Pembroke Beach and L’Ancresse Bay. How can one bay have two sides with different names!  Lunch at the Beach House. R again managed to find some books for sale at a kiosk and even managed to read one that very afternoon & return it! On to Saint Peter Port where we had intended on buying some sandwiches from Waitrose for the trip back. We were confronted by a sign say no sandwiches because of a dispute with the ferry companies.

We boarded the Ferry, leaving after 7.00, and arrived back in Pool after 10.00.  Watched the sun go down as we approached the island of England. Home shortly before 1am. Lots of diversions and road closures on our drive back.

 

Home again home – Apr 22

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Very early morning rise to catch our flight to Sydney. The airport bus arrived on-time and we were soon checked in. All baggage and hand luggage checked.

At Sydney, hand luggage checked again, and Rosemary small pair of scissors from her Swisscard were confiscated. I got scanned for explosives residue. The next flight was to Singapore where we had to get off and back on again. Here R lost another pokey thing from the same gadget. The security at Singapore was dire, and so slow. It must have taken well over an hour to board the passengers.

The long haul now to Heathrow where we arrived early in the morning, quickly through passport control and then baggage. (Last bag off?) Smooth bus trip to Lucknor, where Kiera and Neil were waiting for us. But odd to see spring flowers and new leaves.

Collingwood and homeward bound – Apr 21

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Collingwood, The Court house cafe

Today we locked up the bach as we weren’t coming back and headed over to Collingwood. On the way we passed Peter and Nic’s old properties where we saw the present owners were still harvesting olives and selling olive oil on the roadside. 

In Collingwood we stopped at the old Courthouse, now a café, for coffee. The café was busy for seemingly a small place out of season.

The Collingwood beach had an array of driftwood wigwams built at the high-water mark.

Back to Takaka where we looked around the shops. Lovely furniture in one shop made from the roots of driftwood trees with glass table tops. I would love one of those at home. There was a group of South African singers who were touring. They presented an impromptu busking in the market place to build up some support for their performance. We took a look in the local art centre where local artists exhibit. Some pretty good photographs from a young photographer.

For lunch we ate at the Wholemeal Café. Huge busy café.

Now it was back in the car to Nelson and over the hill again. The traffic lights were now working, and were green for us all the way through.  Packed our bags and left for Nelson airport where we flew to Auckland for the night. We stayed at the Holiday Inn, used the airport bus to get to the hotel. Embarrassment as I had to get the driver off the bus to help me purchase the ticket. Seems I was placing the credit card into the machine upside down. Had a final meal in the hotel.

Golden Bay – Apr 20

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Abel Tasman monument

Today we drove to Golden Bay in Peter’s Mini. Nic stayed behind because she was working and our visit was only for the night. The drive is along the only road to Golden Bay up, over a mountain and down the other side. This road had been badly damaged during a cyclone with parts of it washed away. There were long sections of one-way where we had to wait for our turn. Traffic controls were being installed, and they seemed to be concreted in, so looks like they will be there for the long term.

At Peter’s bach, the removal lorry soon arrived, and furniture was quickly unloaded. Beds were erected so there was somewhere to sleep for the night. Heating /cooling was also tested. Peter’s bach is in easy walking of several restaurants and bars.

We drove along the coast to The Abel Tasmin park and parked at Tata beach. This is also a DOC camping site and looks well worth staying at if we were here again. The beach is a huge long sandy beach coloured Golden. Going back we took a look at the Abel Tasmin monument which is due to be upgraded with commemoration to the Maori side added to it.

We then drove into Takaka for a meal at the Roots bar. Several ales on tap and a great menu to choose from. No band was playing tonight, but you could see they often had people playing there. Takaka appeared lively, and a shop selling vinyl and other items appeared to be a meeting place for many.