How Harry (and the ‘Toad’) came home …

We had a day off from travelling on Monday 13th December, which let Carol catch up on the washing, using the Crystal Palace site’s facilities, then mid-afternoon we hopped on a no 3 bus, waving our travel passes at the driver and paying nothing, and went by some strange route to Trafalgar Square. Philip and Christine had suggested we join them to see ‘Yes, Prime Minister’ on stage, and Philip was waiting for us at the agreed restaurant where Carol jnr joined us shortly. At the end of the meal we were told that the play was to be a Christmas present from P. & C. and Carol provided the meal on the same basis, so – many thanks! Christine joined us at the theatre (The Gielgud, formerly The Globe, where Edith Evans had issues with ‘A HANDBAG’ and John Gielgud created the role of Sebastien in ‘Nude With Violin’ – one of ‘my’ roles!). The play was great fun, and afterwards Philip joined us for the bus ride back to Crystal Palace.

Tuesday 14th, back on the road just before midday, but only to go round London to Welwyn Garden City and another Caravan Club site. In fact we didn’t spend the night there Tues-Weds because Chrys and Jan were expecting us to stay with them. Very nice, thank you. We had a good Chinese meal, but I was beginning to cough in a worrying way.

Wednesday, another non-travelling day, and that cough getting worse; was it bronchitis caught from Nour a week ago in Poitiers? Daniel had had a cold, too. Welwyn and Potters Bar are only minutes apart, so a visit to the site to get ‘things’ was no problem, then it was an evening meal with Martyn and Jasmine. (Chrys and Martyn are Carol’s brothers for those not familiar with their names.) We showed photos of the trip – and the house in Sournia – then went back to the van for the night as we wanted a good getaway on Thursday in the hope of getting home before the worst of the weather made it difficult or dangerous. But I really wasn’t well and Carol wanted to postpone travelling for another day. I said ‘I’ll get get us home – Harry and me will get us home.’ Actually, that was a bit arrogant, ‘cos Carol did two hours of the driving, – and through some of the worst of the weather.

One more lose end: we called on the man who makes the A-frames for towing the little cars. He explained to me what was happening with the brakes and why (which I can’t repeat, not really understanding it!)and that there was nothing wrong and we probably hadn’t been towing the car with it’s brakes on – we’d have felt it. It’s just something that can happen when stopping depending on whether it’s uphill/downhill and the smoothness of the stop. The only problem if a gentle roll forward didn’t solve the matter would be draining the car’s battery if the brake lights were on all night, so disconnect the brake cable till ready to move again. Hmmm …  didn’t we try that and find we couldn’t reconnect it? We’ll see.

Back on the road we had some difficulty getting out of Solihull – TomTom wasn’t helping, apparently wanting us to go through the middle of Birmingham, but we followed signs to the NEC and the airport, which, of course,linked us to the M40 and M6. We did go through some rain and snow, but the threatened disruption to our journey never materialised, even the road over Shap was clear, though with snow on the hills around us. So at about 7.40pm after 10 travelling days and 5 ‘rest’ days and a distance of 2,197 kms (1,373 miles) Harry pulled up outside Garth View – and Sally’s brake lights were NOT stuck on!

A few ‘footnotes’: trip stats – Garth View to Garth View (in ‘Harry’) 4,647 kms (2,904 miles). (Additional distance in the car not recorded). ‘The Journey Home’ – 15 days overall, of which 10 were travelling days. Average daily distance, 219.7 kms / 137.3 m. Average travelling speed 40kph / 25mph (including stops) Slow, aren’t we?

Weather: the decision to travel on Thursday was a good one. Overnight Friday-Saturday reports said that hundreds of drivers and vehicles were stranded for hours on the M6 northbound in Lancashire as the snow, a jack-knifed lorry and minor accidents brought the usual chaos. I was still quite unwell, though, and didn’t do any unpacking or anything till Saturday. Better now, thank you; no flowers, please.

Bolton now looks just like it did a year ago! Fortunately, we have pictures of it (Carol’s)

Loose ends: Way back in June or July, after our visit to Somerset (and encounter with MONDEO-MAN!) I offered a prize to the first guest who could tell us what SDJR stands for. Chrys E. got it right ‘Somerset and Dorset Joint Railway’, and this week he got his prize: OK – it wasn’t a ‘railway themed prize’, so I tell lies sometimes. Perhaps Chrys is happier with a big Toblerone than he would have been with a Stationmaster’s hat!

What was I looking at on the lawn in the garden of the bungalow on the ‘Marais’? A baby hedgehog!

And the spaghetti server in the shower? Well, the shower was very little in use, so hot water took a long time to come through. It was push-button operated, so the problem was how to push AND HOLD the button long enough for the water to run hot without putting yourself in line for a (freezing) cold shower first? Answer – an arm extension. That’s what I used it for!

Thanks for being with us, so to speak, for these weeks, if you have, or for taking the time to look in as a bit of post-Christmas reading. Harry wont be travelling much for a month or two now, and if I blog again I’ll have to find a new programme. So – FESTIVE GREETINGS to one and all and we’ll see what the New Year brings ..

                                                                                                                     HARRY SALLYMAS!

How we came full circle (almost)

We left France looking grey and drizzly (France, not us), crossing a Channel described as ‘choppy’. No matter, it wasn’t bad. We were worried that Sally’s brake lights had been on throughout the crossing, but the vehicles moved freely at Dover and a check at Maidstone services showed problem resolved by itself. Not right, though. Back in England, we began to look for what was good about being in the UK: cat’s eyes – I hadn’t realised how they’d been missing in  France till I saw them again;  helpful headlight flashes from lorry drivers to let me know it was safe to return to lane one after an overtake; believe it or not, most British drivers DO signal correctly at roundabouts! (Fro … French don’t understand them); NOT being tailgated ALL the time; and toilets! Public loos in France (if you can find any) are a national disgrace.

However, to be fair to French drivers, no-one over there did anything as daft as the idiot who attempted a nearside ‘undertake’, in spite of my left signal, as I swung wide to make the turn into the Crystal Palace campsite! It was a near miss – fortunately, if there had been a crunch-up (turn the other cheek?), two pedestrians who were waiting for me to make the turn would have been excellent witnesses.

Once parked up we went down the hill to meet Philip and Christine for a meal – which, as friends who have followed us all the way will remember, was how we spent the last day before crossing the Channel on the outward journey (October 17th).

How we came full circle (almost)

We left France looking grey and drizzly (France, not us), crossing a Channel described as ‘choppy’. No matter, it wasn’t bad. We were worried that Sally’s brake lights had been on throughout the crossing, but the vehicles moved freely at Dover and a check at Maidstone services showed problem resolved by itself. Not right, though. Back in England, we began to look for what was good about being in the UK: cat’s eyes – I hadn’t realised how they’d been missing in  France till I saw them again;  helpful headlight flashes from lorry drivers to let me know it was safe to return to lane one after an overtake; believe it or not, most British drivers DO signal correctly at roundabouts! (Fro … French don’t understand them); NOT being tailgated ALL the time; and toilets! Public loos in France (if you can find any) are a national disgrace.

However, to be fair to French drivers, no-one over there did anything as daft as the idiot who attempted a nearside ‘undertake’, in spite of my left signal, as I swung wide to make the turn into the Crystal Palace campsite! It was a near miss – fortunately, if there had been a crunch-up (turn the other cheek?), two pedestrians who were waiting for me to make the turn would have been excellent witnesses.

Once parked up we went down the hill to meet Philip and Christine for a meal – which, as friends who have followed us all the way will remember, was how we spent the last day before crossing the Channel on the outward journey (October 17th).

How we met an old friend who took us in for the night and how the Michelin guide let us down for the first time.

That night on the ‘aire’ at Le Mans was OK but NOISY! At 5am there was a mass exodus from the lorry park, which had been full to overflowing, and the through lane ran just past our spot. That went on for about 15 minutes, then repeated itself at 6am! By 7.15 the park was almost deserted! The congestion of last night had resolved itself and we travelled on through some nice snowy scenery towards Rouen.

          

However, we made a BAD mistake in choosing our lunch spot! Nice lay-by, off the road, snowscape all around, but ICY, and with an uphill exit. Harry couldn’t do it while towing. We had lunch anyway, blocking the lay-by against anyone who wanted to drive through, then discussed options. We decided to uncouple and drive separately to a suitable spot to re-couple. Shouldn’t have been too hard. BUT with the angle the two vehicles had finished at when Harry went into a spin and the uphill gradient, the tension on the bolts was such that we had great difficulty in removing them. A combination of brute force (we’re not good at that!), WD40 and some lateral thinking in the use of a tent peg eventually won through!

We had telephoned Daniel, the French Colleague who had organised the Penrith/Rouen exchange with me, and offered to take him out to dinner (we’ve enjoyed his hospitality twice before, so we used the difficulty of getting both vehicles to his house and away again without reversing as a lever to insist that it was our ‘do’). We met on a supermarket car park and gave him drinks and nibbles before going to the restaurant where we had an excellent meal, during which he suggested we could, if we thought it OK, park the vehicles, coupled, on a space near the Town Hall in Ymarre (where he lives) and spend the night with him. The space was used by lorries, so manoeuvering should be OK. That seemed like a good idea, and it was.

After breakfast (Saturday 11th December) Daniel drove us back to the Town Hall where Harry & Sally were waiting, patiently and securely, and we carried on through a drizzly Rouen towards the coast. We phoned several caravan parks supposedly open all year, but none replied. We got to the gates of one of them – locked and closed since mid-October. This was the first time our new Michelin guide had let us down with inaccurate information! We joined the motorway. One of our maps showed a service area just before Calais with facilities for motorhomes. We got there; no facilities in sight. We drove on beyond Calais (where we are to sail from tomorrow) and found a layby/aire with a convenient parking area. There are some lorries, but not so many as are likely to disturb us as they did two nights ago. We’ve had a good supper of ‘Harry’s Lamb Casserole’ and here we are …

Or there we were this morning (Sun 12th). Now we are once more at McDonald’s, but in Calais, and have just sent the previous entry to this one. It’s time to go to the ferry terminal, and, for now, to say “Au Revoir, La Belle France” …

(Though, we do admit, we’ve seen it looking ‘beller’!)

How we got back to Poitiers and how we enjoyed two night’s ‘Pasporta Servo’-style hospitality while Harry got a new ‘cheek’. 

So there we were, stuck on the ice, outside the reception and toilet block at Chateauponsac…. but there was no hurry to get away on Sunday morning (5th Dec.), so there was no hurry to get up, either, and the cab radio had just begun to receive Radio 4 on  Long Wave at certain times of day …. which means CRICKET some of the time. (Why is it beyond the wit of the BBC to broadcast that game – and others – to those who want it without depriving loyal listeners of their regular listening? Thousands have complained about it over the years and I’ve asked that question, but never had an answer.) The night hadn’t been as cold as might have been expected, and when I put my nose outside at about 9 o’clock, I said ‘It’s thawing!’ After breakfast the walk to that warm bathroom, which last night had been on crunchy snow and ice, was over much less thick, wet snow and some of the ice was turning to slush. But in front of Harry there was still a section of compacted snow and ice on the slight uphill. We took our time…. It began to rain! (Friends who’ve followed us from the start will know that we were a bit FED UP of rain a few weeks ago – actually, we are again! (and Cherbourg is seriously flooded) but for once that was just what we wanted!

‘By the time we’re ready, I think he’ll do it’ I said, optimistically. Carol wasn’t sure. It carried on raining. We were ready. Carol said ‘I’ll stay outside till you’re at the gate – if you get there’. ‘Good idea – one less unit of body weight,’ I said. Well, it was ‘no contest’, really. Harry pulled away, towing the little car, as if there’d never been a problem. I circled round the building, following some previous tracks, believing this to be the tarmac. Unfortunately, it was grass, and we chewed it up quite a bit, which I really regret, but it will recover. Out on to the road and up the hill (road cleared, snow-free). Oh – I picked Carol up first.

(It’s a pity we’ve no photos of any of this, nor of the location. If the weather hadn’t changed the snow scenery would have made lovely pictures; the campsite was high above the river Gartempe and the village, all Christmassy round its church, up above us. But it was dark when we arrived, and grey and wet the next morning, and of course, we needed that change in the weather, though a day’s delay wouldn’t have mattered.)

The short hop to Poitiers was uneventful – just wet – and it’s been raining ever since, almost non-stop. We’re back at ‘Futuriste’, but ‘Futuroscope’ is hardly visible. We’ve done some shopping and some washing and paid two visits to McDonald’s …. We’d read in a review of this site before coming that they have the best croissants for sale in the morning of anywhere, and they are good; in fact this is only one of two sites we’ve been on where bread, croissants and pains au chocolat have been available out of season, if ordered the day before. But one of the best features here is the showers! Firstly, the building is WARM, even hot if you find you’re right under the heaters, and the showers are PERFECT – fully adjustable, including height, removable head for hand-held use, infinite hot water and a variable jet giving a massage that could do you an injury if you aimed it at the wrong place! Dressing space not 100%, but after some of the places we’ve been …. (end of entry for Monday 6th December).

Thursday 9th December: On Tuesday, it was still raining, but we left ‘Futuriste’ and took Harry to ‘Antoine’s’. M. Antoine met us as we pulled up, long, thin package in hand. ‘C’est la votre’, he said, (This is yours) and immediately unwrapped Harry’s new ‘cheek’ and offered it up to check it was right. No problem. We left Harry in good hands and set off to find the place in the country where the Esperanto-speaking contact lives.

Well, in the country is right, but the welcome and the hospitality couldn’t have been warmer – though the caravan which serves as guest room could! (And it was still raining, and it rained all night!) We met Pierre, the Esperanto speaker (sort of), his Moroccan wife, Fatima, and two children Sami (5) and Nour (2). Little Nour really wasn’t well and had to see the doctor next morning. We also met Stephan, a family friend and Annette, a teacher of languages and Esperanto speaker who had been invited to join us for dinner …. what a dinner! A delicious ‘tangine de poissons’.

(The language possibilities round that table were fascinating. Everyone spoke French, of course, three could have used English (we 2 and Pierre), three used some Esperanto, two could have used Spanish (Annette and Carol), two could have used German (Annette and I), and  I suppose two could have used  Moroccan. Some Esperanto was used, but French dominated because it was the only option which didn’t cut anyone out! But even if Esperanto wasn’t being used for communication, it was Esperanto which had got us 2 nights’ hospitality, so, who’s to say it doesn’t work as a creator of international friendships?)

Next day – it was raining – all day – but we drove 200+ kms to visit VOUVRAY! My immediate family will know why the capitals. Vouvray is perhaps my overall favourite white wine, has been ever since I spent a month in Tours in 1971. We found a ‘Cave’, did some tasting, and came away with … a few bottles. Then we crossed the River and did the same in Montlouis. Discerning palates can tell which wine comes from the sunny side of the Loire (south facing) and which the other …. Back to the stone house in the country (and the caravan) and another lovely meal.

    Pierre and Fatima with Nour peeping over her shoulder (Doctor has diagnosed Bronchitis) and a bottle of sparkling Montlouis which we offered as aperitif.

                                                             Sami with Stephan.

Fatima with Nour and a huge, steaming dish of couscous.

During the night – it stopped raining! But we had heard dreadful weather reports from places which may have been in our line of travel, and when Pierre, a teacher, left in the morning he phoned back to say the roads were very slippery. However, as we left, there was a small break in the clouds …. We made our way – carefully – to Antoine’s. Again, he greeted us personally. ‘I’ll bring your van down for you’. And Harry appeared, with one amazingly white ‘cheek’ showing up the rest of his unwashed, travel-weary bodywork:

before:

and after:

what a cheek! 

M. Antoine – like many other French men we’ve met – was fascinated by the ‘A’ frame to connect van & car – he even produced official documentation appearing to show that towing like that is illegal in France!, but we connected anyway and drove away happy – not least because the TOTAL cost of the repair had been €367 (£312), whereas the quote we had had in England was £550!

At Chatellerault we stopped to shop and treated ourselves to a lunch at ‘Buffalo Grill’, a new eating experience, though not really a French one. Very nice, though.

We travelled on, scenery snowy, but not interfering with us, in fact we had that sunshine again which had followed our travels (but not our ‘leisure’ days) since leaving Prades. We crossed  the Loire (again) in Tours, using a little bit of toll road to make it easier:

We had been completely unable to find an open campsite anywhere along or near the route, so the only option seem to be to re-join the motorway (toll) and head for a service area. Carol managed some photos of the sunset while we were still moving:

but then, about 20 minutes before we were due to stop we ran into a rare occurrence on French motorways, a ‘bouchon’, that is, a traffic jam (NOT a ‘confiture de circulation’!), and those 20 minutes took at least 40, much of it uphill at walking pace, which Harry did NOT like! Still, we made it into the ‘Aire’ near Le Mans and settled down amongst the lorries for the night – but only after struggling (again) to free Sally’s brakes which were jammed on – is that why Harry objected to the 40 minute crawl? Was he pulling a car with its brakes stuck on all the time? ….

Question: Why is this episode in green instead of the usual blue? Is there a reason, or was it just a whim?

How we brought the sunshine northwards and how Harry gave up on the ice.

….. fortunately when it didn’t matter too much.

For three days now we’ve travelled North in sunshine, occasionally losing it for ten minutes or so, and always thinking ‘there’s bad weather ahead’. Well, there may be, but we haven’t got to it yet.

Entry 25 ended with us parked ‘on the road’ at Nailloux,

which turned out to be a very pleasant, lakeside park, with a swimming pool, well worth a visit at a warmer time of year, but it was a very cold night, and the thought of moving on to where it’s even colder is very intimidating. If we were re-designing this van one change we would make would be to put the heater button where we could reach it from the bed! Getting up was hard! and there was a hint of rain in the air, but before we were ready to move off (11.30) clouds were thinning and breaking and the sun was coming through. After about an hour and a half we found a hypermarché with a cafeteria, so we decided to have a hot lunch and a light supper. But this took time, so our distance travelled before dark was a pathetic 139 kms! Never mind, this brought us to Cayreich, just north of Montauban, where a very nice site owner came out to greet us and showed us where to park with the vehicles still coupled. There was Wi-fi, but only in reception, which was unheated – that’s when I e-mailed you all. An interesting pre-Christmas punch of Crème de Cassis, boiling water, vodka, cloves and a cinnamon stick thawed me out back at the van, before our supper of soup and a poached egg. Then for the first time we left the heating on (lowest setting) all night. It made a difference. Interior temperature at 6.45am was 9.5! Outside was well below zero.

The morning (Sat 4th), bright and fine, but freezing, presented us with an interesting choice and challenge. We needed to let the ‘grey water’ go and there was a disposal point close the van; but the manoeuvre to get over it was going to be somewhere between difficult and impossible with the vehicles connected. Having taken pains NOT to disconnect overnight what were we to do? We unhooked the towbar and the electrics from Harry, but left every else attached to the car. We backed over the drain and let the water go. Then to avoid a further complication of a very tight U-turn when re-coupled, this pair of old dogs tried a new trick. We ‘walked’ the car round in a circle, Carol driving it very slowly and me holding the A-frame off the ground. We managed.

On the road at 10.30! Re-joined the main road where we’d left it and travelled on towards Brive. We stopped for ‘twelvesies’ in a lay-by with snow beside and around us:

  and from then on the surroundings were increasingly snowy and the villages Christmas-cardy. Just south of Brive we joined that section of toll-free motorway which we had used on the way south (and spent the night beside). This time we prepared (unusually) a hot lunch in one of those excellent lay-bys for which French motorways are well known.

     

        

    

At Limoges we left the motorway to go to a Carrefour supermarket we could see. It was horrendously busy and parking was very difficult – impossible within the bays. There were piles of snow about a metre high at regular intervals – obviously folk who hadn’t shopped for days were out taking advantage of the safer roads and the sunshine. After a respectable 278 kms we were heading for the village of Chateauponsac. A nice lady on the phone had said we could park ‘on the road’ or ‘round the back of the toilet block’. OK. It was dark, but Satnav worked this time (as she had done in Toulouse the day before – I missed that bit!) and we turned into the site onto about six inches of snow. Obvious where the intended parking spot was, round to the right. Then Harry went into a slide, nothing spectacular, just a little slip and only a slight up hill, but once stopped, he was NOT going again – not with Little Madam hanging on to his back end! (‘What do you think this is? Dancing on ice?’) I had to get out and ‘investigate the facilities’ – everything there and beautifully clean. We were about to start uncoupling, which seemed the only option, when I realised (Oh, no!) there was a car behind. Anxiety soon relieved, however: ‘Bonjour, Monsieur-Dame. Je suis Valerie.’ It was the nice lady on the phone. Don’t worry! – There’s no-one else here, if anyone else comes, they can go the other way round. If you’re all right about it, you can stay just there – will your cable reach the nearest hook-up point? (Yes) Be careful if you get out, though – it’s icy just under your door. Then she showed us a second all-in-one shower room. ‘This one is heated – it’s for the gites, but there’s no-one there’. She unlocked the office and took payment of €14.50, gave us lots of literature (the site is also the tourist centre), stayed long enough to be sure the cable connected and we were OK. ‘If you have any problem, just call – same number you used before, it diverts to my mobile. And in the morning, take your time, the ice may melt, or if you need help – call me.’          Most people are nice – except French drivers; I might go on about them sometime! 

Footnote: Now here’s a question: Why would anyone take a spaghetti server into the shower with them and leave it there, by accident or intent?

But that is what we found at Nailloux! (Where, as seems normal at this time of year, only one section of the ‘sanitaires’ is open. There it was the ladies. Last night it was the gents!) Now, we don’t know the answer to this question, we just know what use I put it to. Answers (decent ones!) on the blog, please. Lateral thinking!  

How we dismantled the awning in record time and the first day of ‘The Journey Home’ was in unbroken sunshine.

Sorry, UK, but I have to tell it as it is! Our turn will come, maybe sooner than we think!

Wednesday 1st December: A brilliantly fine start to the day. We took our time, got up late, did a word puzzle after breakfast (as we do) and Carol did a load of washing. We decided to have main meal at lunch time in the tent before breaking it up, but after that we saw this big, black, snow-and-rain-bearing cloud looming big on the horizon! But was it coming our way or not? Couldn’t tell. But a drop or two of rain could be heard on the roof of the tent, which was dry, so we had that tent decluttered, the furniture dismantled, the pegs removed (most of them) and the fabric off the poles and into the back of the car quicker than …. well, quicker than ever before!

The threat of serious rain never materialised, so job done, we wrapped up warm and waterproof (in case) and walked up into the town, as on the first night. We popped into the estate agent’s and asked for some photos of ‘that’ house.

     

     

          

                    They don’t do it justice ….

We made our own way to Spar and bought some milk and bread and stuff, and as it got dark we made our way back to ‘Le Camping’, without getting lost on the steps.

The night was COLD! There was ice on Sally’s windscreen in the morning, and getting out of bed was really hard – you can’t put the heating on first …. ! But the  dawn was beautiful, and I had another go at photograhping it.

That’s where the BIG, BLACK cloud was yesterday! 

There were still lots of jobs to do, including packing the awning into its stuff sack (in our anxiety to keep it dry we hadn’t done that on Wednesday) so by the time we had the vehicles coupled and everything stowed, it was – midday!

We avoided routes that would have taken us up into the hills, opting instead for setting off, again, in the ‘wrong’ direction and heading for Perpignan. The étangs and glimpses of the Med between P’nan and Narbonne were the same perfect blue as when we arrived, but at Narbonne we turned our back on the Med (literally) and headed up to Carcassonne. We had a ‘civilised’ (i.e. sitting at table with knives and forks) lunch surrounded by vineyards and windfarms, then avoiding the (toll) motorway, we seemed to have no choice but to go through the centre of  Carcassonne, but it was OK and Carol took the chance to take a couple of piccies as we crossed the Aude and came up to a square where there either has been, or is going to be, a Christmas Fayre.

The blue sky and sunshine were still with us, but after a stop for fuel and a bit of shopping, it was getting dark and Harry was clanging warnings about low outdoor temperature, so Carol found an all-year site just off route at Nailloux, so we headed there. We’re parked within reach of an electricity connection, but ‘on the road’ so as to avoid sinking or the need to uncouple. We’ve had supper of a beef dish bought at E. Leclerc, with dips before and cheese and apple tart and cream after, not to mention supporting the local economy in the matter of vin rouge to go with, so we’re well fed and warm – for now.

I joked with Rachel last week that if €20 for a week’s internet access was quite good, and €5 was amazing, it would probably be free this week ….. well – it is! And although the lady warden said we probably wouldn’t have a signal up at the top of the park (where she sent us so we could park on the through road without bothering anyone), we have one. It’s weak and intermittent, but it’s useable. Pity, in a way, that we’re here for only one night ….  

How We Spent A week In Prades

That must be the most unimaginative title so far!

Day 1: (After arrival) Thurs. 25th: Usual first day after travelling sort of thing; up latish, put the awning up, unpack stuff … Then we decided, mid-afternoon, to walk up (and it IS UP ! ) into the town, maybe find a shop and perhaps an Estate Agent. This MIGHT turn out to be a life-changing walk – but probably not! We found an ‘Immobilier’ (Estate Agent) and looked in the window. A villa with almost everything going for it, for less than the price of Garth View, caught my eye. In a village we’d not heard of or seen so far. I drew Carol’s attention to it. ‘How does that grab you?’ ‘Fine – where’s Sournia?’ ‘No idea, let’s find out.’ We went in and met a nice young lady called Laura. ‘C’est où, Sournia?’ About half an hour from Ille Sur Tet. (What we didn’t quite realise is that that was half an hour, by car, UPHILL just about all the way! The agency had two properties in Sournia, both attractive and within our budget. We agreed to meet Laura on Monday and go to see them (still not quite realising the implications!)

Then to find the shop. We were stood in the street, it was getting dark, we were studying the town plan. A nice lady stopped and said ‘Vous cherchez quelque chose?’ A supermarket – we think the big one is a bit far to walk ‘You can if you like walking’. What about the Spar? Ah, it’s not far – You go, no, I’ll go with you, I wasn’t going there, but I need one or two things, so I’ll go there.’ What can you say, except ‘Merci!’? After shopping, we got a bit lost on some dark steps trying to get back to the campsite, but not for long – we knew we had to go DOWN – we just had to find the steps which didn’t lead to a dead end or private property.

Day 2: Fri. 26th: Very cold start, but gorgeous sun-up. Drove to Perpignan to meet an English Estate Agent, specialising in finding places for Brits. Satnav got us lost due to lack of awareness of one-way streets, but we got there by phoning and being talked in. An interesting chat, but nothing specific. We drove to Canet-Plage for old time’s sake (where we stayed last year) and picnicked on the sea front.

We’d been picking up brochures outside agencies, collections of adverts from tens of firms. We spotted a property up the valley of the Agly and thought it might be a nice drive to go and see the town and perhaps call on the agent. It was a nice drive, and we did see the agent. The property seemed very promising, then he told us why it seemed to be so underpriced – it was; the lady owner has become ill and needs to move closer to family very soon. Price dropped for quick sale. No money in the bank, no point in visiting! We decided to drive back to Prades over the hills via Sournia. It was late afternoon, we saw the road UP, but not the road DOWN. The climb was narrow and winding. We didn’t see much of Sournia. The descent in the dark seemed long – and winding.

Days 3 & 4: ‘On Saturday and Sunday, they do no work ay all….’ So on Saturday we stayed ‘at home’ and Carol did the washing, on Sunday we drove over to Amélie-Les-Bains, a spa town in the valley of the Tech. An exciting drive up the River Boulès (and down the other side) and a very nice town when we got there. Then we went down the valley and eventually found a house that the English agent had suggested we should look at from outside. …. Definitely NOT what we’re looking for!

Day 5: Mon. 29th: Perpignan again and another agent, another nice young lady, this one called Valérie, representing an agency called ‘Beautiful South’. Arranged to view two properties on Tuesday. Then to our meeting in Ille Sur Tet with Laura. Well, Laura has ‘La Grippe’ (flu), but at the agreed meeting place ANOTHER nice young lady, called Cécile, was waiting for us to replace her colleague and suggested we should follow her to Sournia. It was just over half an hour, as Laura had said ….. but it was like half and hour up Dunmail Raise, with bends, some of them hairpins, but the road was wide, the gradients not severe, and there was nothing that Harry wouldn’t manage, even towing. Sournia is a little village, a bit like Alston for those who know what I mean, only higher. Shops, school, chemist and doctor are all there. So to the house, the villa. (We don’t know why, but neither of us took photos! House-snapping fatigue? This was house no. 18!) But WOW! This one had it ALL, even space for a pool if we (someone) wanted to put one in. Views over the hills, day-long sunshine, manageable bits of garden, superb rooms …. part way round Carol said ‘I want it’. OK, it’s rather more remote than we had thought we’d go – but then, only an hour from Perpignan airport. Anyway, let’s calm down; the probability is that before we’re in a position to make an offer, it will have gone. The second house, older, and nearer the village centre was very nice, too. ‘Charming’ was the word we used.

We drove back to Prades by continuing to climb – eventually to 991m (Scafell Pike 978), where snow was lying close to the road,

then down another bendy, winding descent into the valley of the Tet. On the way down, and from the moving car, Carol took perhaps our best view of Canigou so far:

Day 6: Tues. 30th: It rained for most of the night and continued to do so through the day till about 4pm, when the skies cleared and we had an hour of sunshine. Up early to meet Valérie and see a house in Vinça, just down the road. Village Centre, and a CAVERNOUS garage, big enough for Harry and at least two cars. A surprisingly private garden. Currently owned by a Scottish couple. Worth considering, but a bit over budget. Then a drive to another town for a ‘definitely not’ viewing.

So here we are; lots to think about, and a wet tent to  pack up! We’ve decided to stay one more day, then start the long trek north. We’ve contacted an Esperantist near Poitiers, member of Pasporta Servo. ( look at http://www.tejo.org/eo/ps_lingv_en if that doesn’t mean anything to you) so we have somewhere to stay while Harry is being repaired.