How Harry got to see the Med and snow in one day, How he got into a fight with some guttering (and came off better!)

and How there’s every chance he’ll come home looking as good as new – well, better than now, anyway.

Tuesday 23rd November was a very fine day and we worked steadily almost all day to pack everything away, and dismantle the awning while it was dry. This was because moving on to our next planned destination was likely to need either six and a half hours on the road, or a stop-over on the way, so our ‘usual’ midday-ish start wasn’t going to work if we wanted to arrive in daylight. We rewarded ourselves with our only evening meal out so far, except at McDonald’s for the wi-fi. We found a very nice restaurant near the shopping centre and had a 3-course meal for 14e90 each with half a litre of wine for just 4e (£3.40!).

So on Wednesday 24th we were off pitch at 10am, and away at 10.30, having decided, for ease of getting out, not to couple the vehicles till outside the site. Weather was still fine, the sun was hot even, through the glass of the cab windows, and we avoided Montpellier’s traffic by using a little bit of toll-free motorway, though this seemed to involve setting off in the ‘wrong’ direction at first, which TomTom couldn’t understand. The toll road all the way would have been quicker, but the alternative was a good road and possibly more scenic.

We had our lunch break just beside this splendid avenue of plane trees – not quite warm enough to sit outside, but very tempting, then somewhere between Narbonne and Perpignan we got the view of that perfectly blue Mediterranean, across one of the ‘étangs’ or lagoons. Next came the Pyrenees and the first sight of the snow-covered summit of Mount Canigou, which has come to dominate our skyline ever since.

From Perpignan we turned up the valley of the Tet and enjoyed a glimpse of the ‘Orgues de L’Ille Sur Tet’ which we visited last year:

Next town up is Prades (pronounced ‘Prahd’) where we knew the Camping Municipal was open, but it’s not very well signed (the warden agrees), the instructions in Michelin are misleading, and of course, SATNAV couldn’t find it. So after wandering off up the hill to the next village, we phoned in for instructions. This final extension to the journey meant that our six and a half hour estimate was spot on! Having suggested, but not insisted on, a suitable pitch, the warden then ‘gave’ us a week’s wee-fee for 5e!

Nights are cold – ice on the car this morning, and 5° in the van – but the mornings are gorgeous when the sun comes up. I’ve tried to photograph the panorama, and to video it, but without real success. Canigou is dominant, but through the trees and in the morning it’s ‘contre jour’. There are other areas of snow, too, but some way away. Anyway, here’s an idea: (The pictures make a bit more sense if you enlarge them.)

But it’s impossible to do it justice and if you really want to appreciate Canigou, Google ‘Mount Canigou’ and go to the site ‘Images of Mount Canigou’ – the very first photo is from the town of Prades.

Due to the delay in arriving on Wednesday, it was getting dark as we uncoupled and parked up. I didn’t realise that there is water available with the electricity just beside the pitch, and I thought  we had to go to the service point beside the the toilet block. I misjudged it, or really just didn’t realise how low the roof of the building is. CRUNCH!

So who got the best / worst of that bout, then? It was obvious I wasn’t the first, and when I ‘confessed’ next morning, that nice warden was very good humoured about it.

And talking (?) of damage, remember this? 

 Well, a few days ago we had a call from the dealer in Poitiers to say the ‘pod’ or ‘cheek’ as it’s called in French has been delivered and would we like to make a date for the repair? Well, we remained flexible over the date, but it seems certain that before we return to the UK, Harry will have a new ‘cheek’. Hooray!

How We Made It To The Med After a Month (and a day), and How Flamingos In Flight Flapped Fleetingly By!

Well …. They did!

We took a day off (from both house-hunting and house-keeping) and went to the sea-side! Harry didn’t come, just us and the little car, but Harry’s turn will come. We made our way through Montpellier’s horrendous traffic and headed for Sète. (Accent! Thanks David, and Carol!) First we came to the lagoon where there were indeed flamingos, some in flight. Through the town and out the other side and we had a picnic, outside, in sunshine, overlooking the Med!

On the other side of the road, the villas rose up the hillside – it was easy to choose and say ‘We’ll have that one!’

I think we both knew we wouldn’t!

We drove on down to the Cap D’Agde, which was nowhere near as scenic a drive as we’d been led to believe, then back towards that awful traffic which surrounds Montpellier. Apparently this is because the previous Mayor wouldn’t grant funding for a proper ring road. (The Mayor is a politically elected and very powerful local person in French communities.)

Actually, I’m losing track of days and dates! That day out was probably Thursday 18th. Or it may have been Friday … We went to the Med again on Sunday 21st, not quite such a fine day, but we had a nice picnic of garlic sausage and French bread – which doesn’t half make a crummy mess if eaten in the car!  – and we drove through La Grande Motte, famous for its outstanding blocks of flats all with different and unusual designs. We even managed to find a way ‘home’ which didn’t involve traffic jams, but then – it was Sunday.

Today (Monday22nd) we headed into the hills and visited the Gorges De L’Hérault. This was a spectacular drive in fairly good weather, and the highlight was the ‘Site of Devil’s Bridge’. We were a bit puzzled as to which bridge was which, until we went below the bridges to a widening of the river (very fast flowing) where we could see work going on to restore an older bridge – presumably THE ‘Devil’s Bridge’.

Footnote: Time to resolve the question of ‘bricks’.  Remember? The ones you are allowed to put in the recycling bin with your plastics. Well, in French, those containers in which many of us now buy orange juice and so on, and sometimes even cheap wine, because of their shape, are known as ‘briques’, which does mean ‘bricks’, but in this context the translation should be ‘tetra packs’:

How Nothing Lasts, Nothing Is Perfect, and How We Viewed 5 Properties In One Afternoon.

Well, it would be nice to say ‘so we’ve spent nearly a week now, enjoying the sunshine and the views, and we’re spoilt for choice with affordable properties’ …… BUT, Camp Salagou turned out to be less than perfect regarding the facilities and the sunshine lasted only one day! (Seems to be our ration!) Sunday (Nov. 14th) was WET, so that although we had pretty well decided to move on we stayed put on Monday because even the things we had put out (not the tent) were too wet to pack up. So we shopped and visited a couple of estate agents.

We weren’t quite sure about moving on, it’s a hitty-missy might-get-lucky / might-not sort of thing, unless you have recommendation to a different place. And when you open the van door in bright sunshine next morning to this view:

You begin to wonder whether you’re doing the right thing! But move we did – not far, just 60 kms to a site near Montpellier where we had read that 1) they take ‘Camping Cheques’ (giving us pre-paid, fixed price overnights), 2) they’re open, and 3) they have total wee-fee cover (for a fee!). Well, it all worked out. After waiting at the barrier for over an hour (reception closed 12 – 2 , quite normal!) we came onto this site where we have OUR OWN facilities! These are super pitches which cost 50e a night in summer, but in winter the main toilet blocks are closed and everyone gets on of these! (Presumably it saves on fuel and cleaning) You’re given (on deposit) the key to a corner of a block of four, each containing shower, basin, and WC, with another sink on the outside. Your own private bathroom, in fact.

                                    

                                     

We had plenty of time, so we put the tent (awning) up – first time since Poitiers – and managed to get the positioning better than ever, so that the ‘tunnel’ is trapped round the roll-out blind’s housing at both ends, which we’ve never managed before. The wi-fi signal is good, and I’m trying to convince myself – and Carol – that compared with the frequent visits to McDonald’s, the 24e for the week is worth it!

Yesterday (Wed. 17th) we went back to Clermont to meet one of those estate agents who showed us five houses between 2pm and 6pm! All interesting, most ‘possible’, but none ‘must have’. Details would be boring. A few pictures:

      

        

         

The fifth was a town house which I knew at once we weren’t interested in, and it was getting dark, so I took no pictures.

This morning – slight problem with that nice private bathroom … the loo was blocked! However, after a quick phone call to reception (I’d love to know  how those with no French and inadequate English – see below – would have managed that one! The mime would have been fascinating! – the nice young lady from reception came running to our aid! Well, I exaggerate just a bit, uncharacteristically. Anyway, the ‘technicien’ (plumber) being off till Saturday, she brought us the key to a second bathroom, having checked that all was well therein. It is, of course, adjacent to our own, so no big deal. Today’s been very sunny, lunch outside, lots of organising and washing, then some shopping. I found a pack of small red fish fillets (possibly mullet), so we came ‘home’ to a supper of ‘Filets de rougets au vin blanc et a la creme’ or ‘Pan fried red fish fillets with garlic and shallots, served with a white wine and cream sauce’. I’ll send anyone who wants it the recipe, which I made up.

Footnote: Everyone Speaks English …. 1) Dead on two o’clock on Tuesday another van arrived and the couple popped in to reception just ahead of us – not deliberately, we were parked at the side finishing lunch. When I went into reception, the young receptionist was struggling bravely with visitors who evidently had no French, so they were using English as the ‘International Language’. Hers was fine. His was below basic. ‘What time do you want to leave tomorrow?’ …. ‘Tomorrow, yes’ …. ‘Yes, you want to leave tomorrow, Wednesday, –‘  ‘Wednesday, yes’ …. ‘Yes’, I need to know WHAT TIME (pointing to wrist) you are going to leave.’ …. ‘Leave, yes’ I couldn’t see their van’s number plate clearly, I think they may have been Finnish, so I wondered whether to offer help in German – or take a long shot in Esperanto, but anyway, English (which everybody speaks) wasn’t working! She gave up.

                                                               2) There’s a notice in the bathrooms in three languages (anyone want to guess the third after French and English (sort of)?) Carol asked me if I’d spotted it, in a rather amused, cheeky sort of way. I hadn’t. The ‘English’ version ran ‘Please keep clean your sanitary. Thanks for the other.’

Hmmm ….    

How Harry Couldn’t Cope With A Gravelly Slope and How We FINALLY Found, If Not OUR Place, Then At least A Place In The Sun.

Saturday 13th November: ‘It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive’. (Who said that? Answer as a comment, please.) But if the traveller’s hopes are realised at the end of the journey, then both the hoping and the travelling are rewarded. So we travelled, we travelled up hillsides, we travelled down hillsides, we travelled beside rivers and we travelled through the rain, then trough the drizzle then through more rain, then even when we reached Languedoc, where the Viaduc de Millau should have looked like this:

(Photo from 2 years ago) – we could hardly see it! We crossed it in fog! (At a cost of 9e20, the only toll we’ve paid since leaving Garth View.) But still there was that hope … that hope that there WAS sunshine in the south! Carol thought she saw a break in the cloud …. Na, whatever it was closed up and the rain came harder than ever. BUT … round a few more corners, and there WAS a blue horizon! GO, HARRY! Through a tunnel, and that was OUR shadow on the wall beside the carriageway!

We were nearly at Salagou Lake, where we stayed in 2008, but the site we stayed on then is closed now, so we came round to the other side where the ‘Municipal’ at Clermont L’Herault is not only open but quite busy. We signed in, after an ‘incident’ (see below) and after parking up on a pitch of our own choosing, went back to the town for a big shop. This morning, Saturday Nov. 13th, we enjoyed our first outdoor breakfast:

But I’ve missed one of the most challenging moments so far! The entrance/exit at the site in Penchot was on a steep slope, down in – up out, and not tarmacced, just gravelly. Getting in was no  problem, and as usual for a one-night stopover we left the vehicles coupled. So we approached the exit (at about 12noon) without any worries, BUT …. Harry gave up on the slope. Reversing any significant distance with the A Frame is out of the question and, anyway, ‘taking a run at it’ would have been impossible 1) because the approach was a right angled bend and 2) emerging onto the road would have been dangerous. Two more attempts and the conclusion was there was no choice but to uncouple and re-couple on the road. The whole thing took most of an hour, but, never mind – at least the rain held off, having hammered on the roof all night.

Today has been a stay-at-home, catch-up-on-washing day. But we made time to look at the lake and take some piccies. Including a very strange fruit tree, which even a local man couldn’t recognise, the view across the lake to where the other site is, and the village where, two years ago, I said I might like to live! ….

Footnote (1) Barrier Rage! Rachel commented a bit back that it was good we didn’t get into campsite rage with the Flying Dutchman; last night it was near-miss barrier rage! We arrived here, stopped at the stop line (as you do), and someone’s hooting from behind. An irate French Female approaches the van ‘On veut entrer’ (We want to get in) ‘You can – you can pass us’ ‘Where can we pass you?’ ‘Here on this side – there’s room for a car between us and the barrier’. By now her husband in the car had worked it out and was already at the barrier, putting the number code in. ‘Oh’. No apology, no ‘that’s all right, then,’, just into the car. I said ‘La probleme EST?’ which probably isn’t French, but only Carol heard it. We went into reception. Man comes thru from back room – simultaneously, Frantic Frogess bursts in the front door – ‘La barriere ne monte pas!’ (The barrier wont go up). I said, quietly, to Carol, but in French ‘I thought we were here first!’ The man said ‘What code have you put in? What name is it? When did you arrive’ Checking the computer …. ‘ah, yes, you were going to leave today – that code isn’t valid any more.’ – ‘We weren’t going to leave’ – ‘Yes, look – till the 12th; you should have let us know if you were staying longer.’ Eventually the code was re-activated, and, again without a word to us, she made to leave. I smiled. She scowled. She got back into the car and looked back at the reception. I was still smiling at her. She scowled again. Fortunately that sort of thing a unusual here. I said to Carol ‘I hope we don’t turn out to be neighbours’. The man said, with a sigh, but a smile as well, ‘Eh bien, M’sieur-Dame?’

Footnote (2) DON’T use SatNav! That new Michelin Guide we bought gives co-ordinates for the sites, so I was dead chuffed on Thursday to put the site’s co-ordinates in instead of just the postcode.   ……

The photos show the spot where we re-coupled yesterday morning. If I’d followed TomTom the evening before, we have ended up on narrow tracks, doing hairpin bends somewhere up that hillside! Fortunately, I’d already said to Carol, having already picked up signs to the site, ‘I’m not turning off this road unless the site is signed.’ She liked my plan …

Now, name this fruit:      

How The Sunshine Didn’t Last and the House-Viewing Grew Increasingly Frustrating.

Well, it wouldn’t, would it? After all, we are here in the longest spell of continuous bad weather within living memory! One man who met us to open up a neighbour’s house told me he’d never seen his barometer so low in all the years he’s lived here! So the rain started hammering on the roof again, everything outside got wet (so did some things inside, unfortunately, and that’s another story) and visits had to be made with waterproofs and umbrellas at the ready.

On Monday we saw two properties, both interesting, but neither a front runner, though the second was a lovely house with fine views, then on Tuesday we thought we would see up to five places, but, for various reasons, saw only two. The first was a splendid house with big rooms and a swimming pool (though this needed ‘refreshing’), but just TOO MUCH land with it. The amazing thing is that we could have paid the asking price and have had money over, given even a reasonable price for Garth View! The second was in a position to fulfil all dreams! Right on the river (which doesn’t flood) and a little canal at the side, I would have bought this little bungalow there and then, till I said “I suppose we should look inside”.

                    

               

                 

It was COMPLETELY ill-designed! We’d have wanted to take out almost every interior wall and start again; tiny little bathroom (no bath, just shower) very limited living space with kitchen, dining, lounge, all in one; an impossible little room adjacent; a small bedroom, then a totally wasted, large space which may once have been the garage, with a staircase going up to, again, a ridiculously small ‘mezzanine’! We could have wept! (We nearly did!)

** No prizes, but can anyone make out what I’m looking at in front of the house ? **

So, once more to our place in the wood ( over the plateau where they grow and sell fruit, down the steep hill to the lake, and up the equally steep hill on the other side ….), and Carol prepared one of her ‘specialites’ (I wish I could type the accents on this – or knew how to), Spaghetti Bolognaise, and we slept only to realise in the morning that it HADN’T been hammering the roof with rain during the night! In fact, there was another brief (oh, so brief!) period of sunshine. So I ran round the site again – twice! Then we packed up, coupled the vehicles, and at about 12.20 (it’s good to get an early start on travelling days!) we left Mervent, down the steep hill to the lake ….. But when we got to the plateau (where they grow fruit) – it was drizzlin’ again! 

However, as we travelled east past Niort and South of Poitiers towards Limoges, there were periods of pleasant, even warm sunshine. Joining a section of toll-free motorway after struggling with Limoge’s twilight traffic, we found an ‘aire’ which was just perfectly designed for caravans and motorhomes; diagonal sections of parking, allowing forwards in and forwards out, divided by trimmed hedges with picnic tables between. Only drawback – the toilets, though fairly newly built were all ‘old-style French ‘hole-in-the-ground’ type, so it was move on or use on board facilities … we stayed and had a classic 3-tin meal, followed by a VERY cold (outside) night.

In fact, at a different time of year we would have had ‘our own’ breakfast table, because by parking in the end lane, no-one else would have had access from the other side.

BUT, once it got warmer, the drizzle started again (we’re using the word in the Cumbrian sense, of course), and it’s been relentless all day! Possibly the worst day so far, but the competition’s keen! Still, we’ve motored on in the belief that there will be sunshine in the South from Saturday, and we intend to be there! We left the motorway just south of Brive-La-Gaillarde and passed thru Cressignac where we saluted the hotel where we spent a night on our way south last year, came across country – increasingly hilly and beautiful country, crossing the Dordogne we’re not sure where and then following the Lot to the village of Penchot where, having bought an up-to-date Michelin Campsites Guide, we had reliable information that a suitable park was open. There’s even a wi-fi connection (pronounced wee-fee) – if I trek through the drizzle (Cumbrian usage) to the games’ room to get it. Well, I’ve paid 2e for it so here goes ….. Hope someone reads this! 

How it finally stopped drizzlin’ and how we like what we see around here.

Sunday 7th November: To be honest, we were getting a bit FED UP of the incessant drizzle! So it was nice to wake up this morning to a hint of sunshine thru the clouds, which developed into a largely sunny day. When we left Poitiers the tent had been too wet to pack away, so we stuffed it into Sally’s boot and it’s been there ever since! We’ve lived with the clutter of ‘travel mode’, unable to clear the van of ‘stuff’ and set up camp the way we would like. But this morning I actually felt able to get a few things out of the garage ant set up a washing-up station outside the van!

Our three nights here are over, but we have so much still to see, that we are certainly staying another three if not four or more. We live in perfect peace, apart from the owls and the occasional oak apple falling on the van – and the rain hammering on the roof, of course, so perhaps ‘perfect’ isn’t the word.

The ground is carpeted with oak leaves, with some beech mixed in, and today, having taking the warden’s advice when we arrived about where to park, our spot has had sun  on it all day. So before we went out we got the tent out of the car and spread it out and by the time we came back it was dry enough to pack away.

   Another ‘event’ this morning was that, inspired by the location and the change in the weather, I got my trainers out (Yes! I brought running shoes!) and ran round the site before breakfast! It wasn’t much, but it did happen, honest! We’ve had no commitments today – estate agents don’t work Sundays – so we’ve taken the opportunity to drive round the lake (very low, like at home, and created by damming the Vendee river just below its confluence with La Mere and a minor tributary). Even at this time of year there’s a thriving activity centre, but curiously, to our way of seeing things, it’s closed on Sundays.

             

                      

       

Now, about the house hunting. Unlike the chap in Mansle, who didn’t show us anything we were really interested in, and who seemed to lose interest in us completely once he realised we weren’t ‘money in the bank, ready to buy’ clients, the agents here have been very understanding of why we’re here and what we want, and we’ve seen some really nice places at appropriate prices. I don’t think whoever’s reading this wants a house-by-house account, but the ‘front runner’ at the moment is a bungalow on the edge of a village called St. Hilaire  la Palud, on the Marais Poitevin, with totally open views over fields, all-day sunshine (when it shines!), and a very thoughtful senior-citizen friendly design. Not only that, but there’s space for a swimming-pool, and money enough to have one put in if we wanted! Moreover, it’s not available till next September! (This one would involve selling Garth View and NOT buying a place in Cumbria as well.)

   

  But let’s not be hasty! We have appointments for viewings tomorrow and Tuesday, and another agent should be calling us first thing in the morning to talk about half a dozen properties we’ve seen on the net in which we might be interested. Then there’s Languedoc ….

I haven’t blogged much about food so far! I mentioned ‘Harry’s Omelette’ last time, and the brunch on the barbecue, but apart from that it hasn’t all been McChicken @ McDonalds! There’ve been a few ‘3-tin Meals’, but some creative in-house cuisine, too. We’ve had duck steak, the inevitable ‘Specialite de la Maison’, Lapin au Van, and last night we sampled quail, available in the supermarkets at very low price, and I used a recipe in one of the books I brought from home for ‘Pigeon and Parsnips’. Really good, we thought. This evening was liver in red wine – ‘Foie au Van’ as it may become to be known because we enjoyed it and will do it again. I would have put on all the warm clothing necessary, including scarf and woolly hat, and sat out under the stars (it’s still not drizzlin’!), but Carol doesn’t see the fun in that!

Footnote: Funny French: Getting used to French radio (one of the last things your ear can adjust to – harder than television) I heard a discussion about digital readers, ‘lecteurs numeriques’, in the course of which I heard the French (?) verb ‘podcaster’. Can’t help wondering what the ‘Academie’ thinks of that!   

How Orange made us see Red.

Soon after we bought the French phone, which is pay-as-you-go, or in French ‘prepaye’, we got a text from Orange saying we could access our account online and that 160.37e would be taken from our account on November 6th! That’s about £140!! Why? And what account? We hadn’t given any account details, but we had paid by credit card. We fretted for several days till we could get back to the ‘Phone House’ (Carphone Warehouse) shop where we bought it. Closed for lunch!  There was an Orange shop in the same complex, we went to them. ‘Je ne comprends pas du tout’ was all the assistant could say. (He could have phoned Orange – the firm he worked for!) We waited till well after the given end of lunchtime; no sign of Phone House opening – it was travelling day, we had to get on. We phoned the Orange customer service number from the info with the phone. I explained I was English and spoke fairly good French, but it would help if the ‘advisor’ would speak slowly. ‘Would you like to speak to an English-speaking colleague?’ ‘Ca pourrait etre aimable’ (That might be helpful). Short wait ….. “Mr. Thompson!” (I hadn’t given my name) “How can I help you?” I explained the situation and read the text aloud. “Mr. Thompson, don’t worry – it’s a mistake; that text is not for you. That text is for the person who had that number before you. You should not have received it. Mr. Thompson, don’t worry, you have no contract, no money will be taken. Bonne journee!” ‘Have a nice day’ seems so much more natural in French than in American! we all say it, it’s almost an essential courtesy. OK – it’s an odd thing to have happened, and it shouldn’t have happened, but the service on the phone was exemplary, and very re-assuring.   

How a boat trip on the Marais was wetter than we might have hoped, how Harry’s long awaited repair might  get attended to and how we spent an evening in the dark! (not to mention how we established the difference between ‘rockets’ and ‘fuses’ and how things are looking up on the house-hunting front …) 

A visit to the Marais Poitevin has been an outstanding memory of mine since the first exchange visit Henri IV – Boothville maybe 35 years ago, and I’ve been promising to take Carol there for some time now. Unfortunately the weather has changed and there was more rain overnight, though not as heavy, but time is running out and we decided to go for it anyway. Good thing we did, because tomorrow, November 1st, le Toussaint, is a public holiday and the last day this year when the boat trips are available.

  The Marais is also called La Venise Verte (Green Venice) and even with the grey skies of today (compared with the blue and blazing sunshine of that day in the seventies) the name is well seen. I’ll put up an album of the photos, so look out for it, but if you take the ‘guided’ ride, you sit facing forwards while a young man skulls you round a circuit of at times very narrow channels. Around here even the cattle travel by boat! Unfortunately, and this was ‘our’ skuller’s first and probably only trip of the day, there was one brief but very heavy shower about halfway round. Even a couple of well-clad huntsmen, complete with guns and dogs, were sheltering from it. Still, it made us feel ‘at home’! (We hear bad things of the weather in Cumbria – high winds and fallen trees, for instance.)

Back on ‘dry’ land, we found two estate agencies on opposite side of the square (it’s only a little town!) and again we were amazed and what we could buy with the money we might have available. We’re now seriously thinking of moving closer to the Marais (and the coast) to have a better look around. Problem is to find an open caravan park ….. 

But that problem was postponed for a few days yet. I felt we hadn’t done Poitiers thoroughly enough, so we went back on Monday and visited the famous ‘Notre Dame La Grande’, the outstanding example of Poitou’s Romanesque architecture:

  Carol was enchanted with the interior, and the whole place is in total contrast with the much more grandiose Cathedrale St. Pierre, endowed by Henry II (of England), Compte D’Anjou, and Elienor D’Aquitaine. (Those visits to Poitiers in the 70s and a thorough instruction in the links with Henry and Eleanor (Henry played by Peter O’Toole in both ‘Becket’ and ‘The Lion in Winter’ as film buffs of the 60s will remember) meant that I was able to answer Judith Keppel’s £1m question before the answers came up – pity I never got to answer one of my own!

Poitiers is also home to possibly the oldest complete place of Christian worship in Europe, the Baptistere St Jean. The building appears to have sunk, but in fact the reverse is the case – the ground around it has risen during some 17 centuries of development and is now over two meters higher than it was when the baptistry was built.

We also passed by the Palais De Justice where Joan of Arc was sent to be examined by the scholars to see if she could possibly be genuine about having heard those voices.

Now, a long time ago, Harry had a brush with ‘Mondeo Man’ on a country lane in Somerset, remember? And since then we’ve made zero progress towards getting the damage repaired in the UK. Well, just outside Poitiers, not far from the caravan park, there’s a motorhome dealer advertising repairs, including ‘Carrosserie’ (Bodywork). So we went to see him (we needed gas, too, and that’s been another difficulty, which he sorted). One look at the damaged panel, one phone call and he had a price. No problem to get the part, no problem if we went off to Languedoc and called in for the job on the way back; could be done in a day, one overnight would be better. We paid a deposit on the part and just HOPE it works out.

Leaving Le Futuriste was a bit of a wrench, especially as it meant leaving little Moglet to fend for himself …. In a way it was fortunate that a couple of fellers from neighbouring pitches – one English one French – came across to take an interest in how we hook up the car and the van, so we had to make conversation till the last minute. Still …..

We’d read in our (7 year old) Guide Michelin that there was an all-year-round campsite at a place called Mervent, not too far north of the Marais, so we set the Satnav to take us there. Driving through  increasingly heavy drizzle, which has become the norm now, we found a lakeside village with a wooded campsite and holiday park, but no sign of life at all – we’d telephoned,too, with no reply, but decided to go and see anyway. We turned away and went back to Coulon, where we’d done the boat trip and knew there was a Motorhome-friendly area where we could stay overnight, get water, and dispose correctly of both ‘grey’ and ‘brown’ water. Sometimes these places also have electricity available by coin-in-slot, not this one, but that wasn’t to be a problem for one night. So we parked up, after dark now, there was one other van already there and another arrived soon after. Switched on the interior lights – which work off the leisure battery, which is well charged up, – and – NOTHING; not one light working, not one 12v socket working! Why?? Working by headtorchlight we could identify the TWO fuses which controlled the circuits in question, but I couldn’t tell by looking whether they were blown or not. The fuses in the set which we have weren’t the right amperage!  Lanterns and candles were well buried in the garage, so nothing for it but to carry on by torchlight. We had a nice ‘Harry’s Omelette’ actually, and the night was quiet and undisturbed (from outside – the snoring’s another issue!)

During breakfast next morning, there was a knock on the door and a charming young lady under a large umbrella (still drizzling!) introduced herself as working for the authority and was calling for the 6e. overnight charge. That was OK – it was on the signs, we just didn’t know how it was done. We asked if she knew of a motorhome accessories dealer, – yes there was one in the next town. We had a problem with our electrics, perhaps we needed ‘fusees’ – no, those are rockets, what are they called? ‘Fusibles’. We asked if she knew of a caravan park open, or an ‘aire’ with electricity. No, but she worked at the tourist office in the village and if we called by later, she’d make some phone calls and find out. Really charming!

But the contrast at the motorhome dealership couldn’t have been greater! We thought we’d got lucky cos it was a Chausson main dealer, but – surly and unhelpful! ‘You’ll have to wait; there’s no-one available.’ But they did manage to sell us some fuses and Hey, presto! everything works! (Except the 12v sockets in the cab). But why should TWO circuits blow simultaneously when there was nothing switched on??

Back in Coulon, that charming young lady was as good as her word – or better. Before we got there, she had made the calls and found that the park in Mervent IS open (in theory) and they would receive us if we were there by 6pm. That was no problem. Back thru the drizzle, over the plateau where they grow –and sell – fruit, down the steep valley side to the lake (another dammed river), up the equally steep opposite hillside, where there are houses with wonderful views, thru the village and into the wood. It still looked  closed, but as we wandered about a bit bewildered, a voice called ‘Allo!’ and a very nice man came and said how good it was to meet people travelling at this time of year. The park consists mainly of chalets – empty – with some pitches for tourers. There is NO-ONE here! The man opened one toilet block for us (I can perfectly innocently go to the ‘ladies’!), pointed out where he thought would be best, but said we could park ‘anywhere’, and was very relaxed about payment. But we paid three nights anyway.  And here we are!

This has been too long – congratulations if you’ve got thru it! So I think I’ll leave the house-hunting developments till Chapter 18. Just a few photos to arouse interest:

How we found a very pretty little town on the banks of a BIG river (but we don’t want to live there), and how the Flying Dutchman hit the rocks  …

Among the properties we’ve been sent details of on e-mail (of which we’ve been sent ….. belt up, pedants!) was a ‘very pretty little house’ with a large garden and a swimming pool, well within budget to buy that AND a small place in Cumbria, near a town called L’Isle Jourdain on the River Vienne. We e-mailed the agent but without waiting for a reply went to look at the area anyway. The town was very attractive, with wonderful views over the river (though we were there on one of the less sunny days):

          

                       

                      

The river’s been dammed just above the town – presumably to control the flow – and you can see the outflow from the holding lake on the last photo. One of the town’s attractions (for some) is that you can go bungee jumping from the viaduct!

We found the local office of the agent handling the ‘pretty little house’ but although it was within opening hours there was no-one there. So we went looking for the village in question. THEN we realised why such a des. res. was so ‘inexpensive’; that village was one dead grot-spot if ever we saw one! No shop of any kind (well, nor has Bolton now), no sign of a community centre, neglected farms, and scenery to die to get away from! Nothing like the nearby town at all …. never mind!

Back at ‘home’, our corner pitch is ‘protected’ by three sizeable rocks, intended to stop casual caravan drivers from cutting the corner and chewing up the grass.

Yesterday afternoon we were ‘at home’ doing homely stuff when a newly-arrived Dutch couple in a large 4X4 towing a big caravan which he couldn’t manoeuvre took the corner too close – and too fast – and crunched up the nearside wheels of the caravan on the rocks. Without a word to us, he got out, moved two of the rocks further onto our pitch and got back into the 4X4. I could understand the Dutch well enough to know that she said, when they were clear, ‘Aren’t you going to put them back?’, to which he replied something like ‘They can stay where they are’. I just walked round the corner and stared at him while he made several unsuccessful attempts to manoeuvre his van onto their own pitch. Then I put the rocks back myself.They only stayed one night.

  It rained heavily last night (Friday/Saturday 29th/30th) and there was a lot of water pooling on the tent roof and the tunnel – in fact it was difficult to open the van door this morning with the weight of water against it! But it doesn’t seem to have done any harm. We’ve stayed at base all day but the weather faired up and we walked down the hill to the river, which is the Clain (rhymes with ‘jardin’). We were able to walk a little way along the riverbank and take some photos:

         

        

          

Sorrow! The boating staff seem to have gone kitching! (‘Ghost Train’ fans only, that one!) The trees around here are full of mistletoe:

Meanwhile, little Moglet, or Wee St. Georges (the address here is St. Georges Les Baillargeaux – no advice on pronunciation!) has settled down on our pitch and thinks he lives here. It’s our fault, giving him titbits at first, then buying kitten food for him. He’s much more tame now and tolerates a bit of stroking – as well as chewing shoe laces and playing with loose toggles on the tent.

How time flies and days merge into each other ….

Actually, Harry hasn’t done any travelling since the last entry a week ago; he’s stayed put and has served us very well as a base for exploration and relaxation.

Days have been sunny, –  warm, not hot, but nights have been cold, frosty, even. This is a very suitable park and we’ve decided to stay a second week.

    

Splendid autumn colours! 2 Happy points! (Anyone outside my immediate family who knows what that refers to – and enters it as a comment – can award themselves … well, 2 happy points!) The site overlooks the ‘Futuroscope’ theme park, which we believe is very highly rated, but at 30e (£27)each, even for seniors, we just can’t justify a visit.

Our first two days were spent relaxing, sorting, organising; crates have been emptied and cleaned which have travelled unsorted and spidery in the old ‘Box’ for years! We enjoyed our first al fresco meal – an English Brunch, prepared on the new barbecue.

(With bacon smuggled over the Channel in Harry’s fridge.) We’ve had one partly wet day – that was the day we went into Poitiers and ‘did’ the cathedral. Then we did a big shop at a huge Centre Commercial. That’s where we bought the French mobile phone. (+33 6 30 60 97 32 – I did that from memory!) Finally we got round to contacting one of the estate agents in the area whom we’d met at the ‘Place In The Sun’ exhibition. He works from an office about 60 miles south of here in a little town called Mansle (pr. ‘Marn’) on the banks of the Charente:

It seems a long way to go, but a difficulty is that most caravan / camping sites are closed now, so we are limited as to where we can stay, unless we use ‘Aires’ or wild camp. Anyway, we’ve viewed 5 properties in two days, none of which has had that ‘WOW!’ factor which has made us say ‘we must raise the cash to get this NOW!’, but what has been amazing is just how much we could buy for well less than the price of Garth View….

 How’d you like that at the bottom of your garden? (But no risk of flooding)

                                                                                                                                              Or that for a view?

We seen places with huge attics, huge barns, half acre gardens, but that’s not what we’re looking for! One problem was that Hugh (the agent) only wanted to show us places where the owners were away – where people were in residence they only want viewers who have money in the bank, ready to buy. So it’s a bit ‘chicky-eggy’ really.

No problem with fuel, by the way; Harry’s sitting here with a full tank going nowhere, the viewings were done in Hugh’s car and we filled sally up in Mansle before coming ‘home’ this evening.

….and THE KITTEN(S). When we arrived there were two little grey kittens to be seen around the cabin opposite. A girl on a bike who appears to live here seemed to take exception to them and went to fetch a man who trapped one of them and took it away …. A Dutch Lady from a caravan two pitches away told Carol there used to be four, but they’ve been catching them one by one (they’re not always welcome visitors on campsites – sometimes they steal people’s breakfast …..). Mrs Dutchman was trying to catch this last one to adopt it together with one she has already from Portugal, but it’s very people-shy,though very hungry and lonely, too. She’s gone now, but little Mowly-Wowly seems to have adopted us, or we’re the only people who give him anything. But he still wont come within stroking or petting distance – just knows when we’re around and comes and howls between the van and the tent! NO! We’re NOT going to take him with us!!!   

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