Another Norway Cruise!

Quick catch-up

An unfortunate minor road accident the day before sailing necessitated a one-way car hire to get to Newcastle to join Balmoral, then a succession of courtesy cars on return before little Papa Romeo* was returned.

*Papa Romeo? – Look at the number plate …

30th October 2024

Bon Voyage!

Cruising past the Seven Sisters.

Crossing the Arctic Circle ceremony.

Cut down the alcohol? Well, it was Sunday lunchtime …

Alta

This was funny! I got up from table (other folk had gone) to get myself some cheese from the buffet, leaving my napkin and wine to mark my place, but when I came back:

Those hyper-efficient waiters had cleared and partly re-set the table! Of course, they apologised profusely and brought me another glass of rosé:

The good thing was that that replacement glass had more wine in it than the one I’d left behind! And when a waitress saw me lining up a selfie, she offered to take the pic for me – and did well!

Tromso, the Arctic Cathedral.

A little nightcap?

Final Port of Call – Alesund, and it was the first fine day! But it clouded over at dusk. Northern Lights? – Not a glimmer!

Nice sunset, though!

Sail away!

At 9 am on Saturday, 9th November, it was good to be met by Rachel directly outside the cruise terminal in Newcastle, and so to be chauffeur driven home (chauffeuse driven?). Thanks for that. And later, there was a nice ‘welcome home’ from Smudge:

Bodensee, Rheinfall, and home.

Tegernsee to Egnach

Tergernsee to Egnach – 394kms.

I’ve actually forgotten where my intended destination was! But it was somewhere beyond Zurich and into the hills, However, the views of the Bodensee (which we call Lake Constance) as we came round its eastern end were so appealing that before St. Gallen, I turned off the motorway and decided to look for a campsite, rather than drive on for two more hours. The first two I tried were full, so I turned around, thinking I would head back to the motorway and overnight on a service area. Then I saw another sign to caravan/camping and thought ‘might as well have a look’. Well! What a place!

Camping Seehorn at Egnach (I nicknamed it Eggnog) ….. if there’s a better site anywhere in Europe, I want to go there! The facilities are a m a z i n g! I won’t go on – you can look it up if interested. I suppose if I must find a drawback – no swimming pool. Normally, the lake would make up for that, but only in fine weather and if there’s enough water to swim in! More later.

The nice man at reception, Urs, the owner, I think, hesitated at first, but then he found me a pitch where I could spend one night. If I wanted longer I might have to change pitch. That suited me. Not yet realising how lucky I’d been to turn up there, I thought one night would be OK.

By next morning (Friday 17th), having looked around and studied some of the leaflets, I’d no intention of moving on! Urs said I could stay on pitch 104, where I was, so that was OK. I had lunch at the restaurant overlooking the lake, and got the latest load of washing done using the site’s excellent facilities.

: The grassy area belongs to the campsite.

: There’s a diving platform by the little tree; no water anywhere near it, though!

: My hat!

: What’s happening here? Is that a thunderstorm bubbling up?

In fact, there was a thunderstorm approaching, but not from those clouds, which moved away to the east; the storm came from the south-west.

I decided I would visit Europe’s biggest waterfall, the Rheinfall, and do it by train to Schaffhausen (see map). The railway line ran alongside the site, between the pitches and the restaurant. I thought I’d get the bike off the rack and go to Egnach station along the cyclepath beside the railway, and I would do a trial run on Saturday, to be sure that I could do it, and so could the bike (it’s electric and I wasn’t sure of it, not having used it for some time.) The ride took only 15 minutes, and there was an ample bike park at the station. Tickets were obtained from a machine by the platform. I wanted a day excursion ticket, but I could get it to produce one. (This was still Saturday, and I wanted the ticket for Sunday.) A lovely young lady came along to buy her own ticket for the next train, so I stood back, but then I asked if she could help me get mine. She got me a return to Schaffhausen; it was probably more expensive than the excursion ticket, but never mind. A brief conversation then took place between us in German and English until her train arrived. She was a sixth former (as we would say) and she wanted to visit England on exchange next year. Then the train came and that ‘brief encounter’ was over. ……..

Back at base, ticket in wallet, I made up my mind to swim in Lake Constance, just to say I’d done it. There was a sign on the jetty warning people not to dive off it! Ha – as if anyone would; the water was barely knee deep. There was a second diving platform some 50-70 metres out, but even those who waded out to it were still no more than waist deep. The bottom was a mixture of heavy sand and weed (and fish). I walked out a little way and sort of lay down and ‘swam’ a couple of strokes. So I swam in Lake Constance …… didn’t I?

Sunday 19 August: The last of my special outings. Bike – 2 trains – bus – funny little self-driving pod-bus and that brought me to the top of the Rheinfall:

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The people on top of the rock pinacle got there by boat across the pool, and climbing the steps from the jetty at its foot! I didn’t do that.

This was the view from the terrace of the restaurant where I had lunch – a sausage and rosti. (Well, I hadn’t had a sausage all the time in Germany, so I thought I’d have one in Switzerland!) I understand that a lot more of the rocks to the left is normally covered with white water.

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See the boat? That’s what I did next, just a short circuit, but enough to ‘enjoy’ the moment when the boatman revved up to full power and drove us straight into the spray of the main fall:

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The return journey was made without the bus ride – I hadn’t realised that all I had to do was change trains at Schaffhausen, and there was a station at the top of the fall. Never mind.

There were some good views from the train, both ways, as sections of the line ran very close to the lake:

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I can’t explain the white globe in the middle of that picture; it appears on all the photos which I took through the train window, if I pointed the phone straight at the glass, but not if I took the pic obliquely:

Next morning I left Seehorn, and pointed Harry to France (Alsace), then north to head for the Channel. Egnach to Calais

At Colmar I had a delightful al fresco evening with two English couples and the children of one of them. I wish there had been more evenings like that after the cruise, though not necessarily with English folk. The weather was still hot, so I chose campsites with pools. This one or rather, these two, were at Berny-Rivière:

Not good photos, as I was trying to be discreet. (Fine line between discreet and furtive!) This was a huge park, popular with Brits, and within day tripping distance of Paris and Disneyland, with excursions from the site. I spent two nights here so as to relax and catch up with the washing. I promised myself an end-of-trip meal at the restaurant, where I was tempted by the ‘Menu Traditionel’ which included escargots and blanquette de veau. However, when I turned up at about 7.30, the place was fully booked for the evening.

There’s one more incident to narrate. Channel crossing was now booked for mid-morning Sunday 26th, and I had 2 days easy driving to get there. Still aiming for a swim on my last evening, I chose a park at Guines, close to Calais, and proceeded as normal, stopping at service areas and lay-bys as needed. Once on site, I was sat in Harry, having a drink and doing a puzzle, when the van began to shake. Funny!? There’s not that much wind … then bumping noises from the back. I got out to find a young (black) man in a hoodie trying, I thought, to get my bike off the bike rack. When I challenged him, he walked away and tried to hide in a toilet cubicle. A neighbour kept watch while I went to reception for help. Long story short, when the police arrived (MEN with GUNS!), they and the site warden were of the opinion that he wasn’t trying to steal the bike, but that he had been ‘riding’ under the bike cover, clinging to the rack, probably since my last stop (at least 100 kms), having seen the GB sticker on the back, and assuming I was crossing the Channel that evening. A migrant, in other words, trying to get to England, and not realising I was going to stop overnight in France!

By the time that bit of excitement was over, I felt more like another drink than a swim, but this site had a restaurant, too, and I went to ask if booking was necessary. “Ah, oui, Monsieur, absolument!” – and the only available tables were outside. Hmm, weather was a bit threatening, but I booked for 7.30. The menu I chose didn’t start with six snails, as the previous evening’s would have – but with a dozen!

The main course was – guess what? – they weren’t in the news then – scallops! In a delicious creamy sauce. I had to push my table a little further under the awning at one point, to avoid drips from the rain, but it was short-lived and I was able to get back to Harry between showers. Once there, I thought a little digestif was in order to …. well, aid digestion and induce slumber …. slumber with echoes of G & S sounding across the Rhine, and visions of balmy, sociable post-concert cocktails on the sun (moon?) deck, of blue lakes and ‘sail boats and fishermen’, of a smiling Rhein Maiden and a thundering waterfall …. and of MEN with GUNS!

After an uneventful (fortunately) drive and crossing, I arrived at Porton Court mid-afternoon, and the weather being distinctly uninviting for going out, we had a Chinese takeaway. Next day, Monday 27th August, at about 3.15pm, after one month away, and a round trip of 3,652kms or 2,282 miles, Harry, and me, and Dippy, came home.

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An August Adventure

….. Though it started in July, and there was nothing very ‘noble’ about it, in case anyone thought there might be a pun intended in that title!

So, on Friday morning, 27th July (2018), Harry and I set off from 141 Hall Cross Road and headed south.

And Dippy came, too!

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Well, a chap needs someone to talk to! But she didn’t say much. She spent most of the time looking out of the window ….

First port of call was Porton Court (do you like that? alliteration and assonance!) – apart from the service areas on the way of course.

Christine, the Nieces (Carol and Judi) and I had a good meal together at one of the restaurants in Surbiton where we had been in previous times. As usual, a waiter obliged by taking a tolerably good photo of the whole party:

DSCN4028 (No! that is not an attempt to achieve the Southgate look! I was wearing waistcoats long before he came along …)

My / our crosing the next day wasn’t till 4pm, but I left in good time and was at the top of the hill overlooking Dover by 2 o’clock. The remaining 5 miles took 3 and a half hours! (This was the weekend when the tunnel was experiencing difficulties due to overheating, and many folk were trying for a ferry instead.) But there was no problem at check-in – the man just said ‘you can go at 6’ – ‘OK’.

Of course, that made it 9.00pm (Euro-time) by the time we docked at Dunkirk, so I spent the night on a service area in Belgium …. it was OK, though the facilities were totally inadequate for the demand once the restaurant had closed at 10pm; I was glad to have my own. There was a nice café-croissant at the restaurant in the morning, and wifi too, BUT – the litter! Worse than anything I’ve seen on a service area in England, and it wasn’t only because the bins were full and overflowing. Other services and lay-bys along the route were little or no better …. shame on those responsible, both the litterers and the authorities!

It was easy enough to get across to Cologne:

Dunkirk to Cologne

But finding the caravan park where I was going to spend the night before leaving Harry for a week was challenging, largely due to roadworks. The people at the site had sent instructions, but they referred to leaving the motorway at Engelskirchen, NOT Untereschbach, but these places weren’t on the signs, so I was left guessing and took a wrong decision.

Cologne to Oberbuschem(2)

The black line is (more or less) what I should have done. What I actually did is anybody’s guess! But in the end I found a pleasant site with good facilities (though I don’t care for automatic lighting in the loos, which switches off and leaves you in the dark!) and very nice people, so that when I was worried about leaving Harry in that seemingly endless heatwave, the lady said it was OK to leave the electricity connected and the fridge on – I was going to try to give away some of the perishables.

Monday morning 30th July:

Bye, Dippy – Look after Harry for me! Bye, Harry, look after Dippy for me …. (You’d better close the window!)

I was surprised how far the site was from public transport! I could have gone to Engleskirchen, but they advised me to take a taxi to Bensberg for a better link to Cologne, so it was a long taxi ride and a short bus ride to the Hauptbahnhof (Central Station) in Köln. I was very early. But I had a nice lunch in one of the restaurants in the shopping centre under the station – it may seem an odd thing to do, but when I emerged and was hit by that wall of heat, I think staying inside with air conditoning had been the right decision. So with suit carrier over the shoulder, and trundling Rachel’s wheeled suitcase on the other side, I set off to find the ship, the Rex Rheni. Based on previous experience, heading for where Regina Rheni had moored at the end of my Christmas Markets cruise, when I got to the river I turned downstream – wrong! After about half a mile and passing several hotel ships, and asking the crew of one of them, who thought I might be looking for them, I turned back. I sat on wall at the edge of the promenade and got out the cruise paperwork. Phoned Saga in the UK. Did they know where Rex Rheni was – exactly? No, but a nice man gave me two phone numbers – the ship’s and Denisa’s, the Tour Leader’s. First one didn’t work. Second one did, and that was luckier than I could have known as it turned out.

Rex Rheni, Denisa told me, was moored right beneath the chocolate factory. And where’s that, coming from the station? I not only had to retrace my steps already taken, but go about as far again beyond the railway bridge. Not all the ground was smooth for the wheeling of the case …. and it was HOT. I stopped and bought a drink which may have been a shandy, but it was cold! Never have I been so pleased to see the back end of a boat!:

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In the end, I was first to embark! As I made my way down the gangway, a number of crew members were converging at the foot of it. I said ‘There’s only me – I don’t need the whole crew!’ What I didn’t know – but they did, was that I was just seconds ahead of the first coachload, who were now already queueing up behind me! I was invited to leave the luggage on the deck and was escorted to my cabin – 111 (Just like the old health insurance certificate before it became EHIC).

So began my special cruise “Gilbert and Sullivan on the Rhine” .

What can I say? How shall I do this? The catastrophic failure of my computer soon after the cruise meant that I was unable to load the photos and do the diary immediately afterwards. It’s a month ago now, and a lot has happened since. So I’ll not narrate the cruise day by day, but I’ll group the best of the photos (imo) in sections and try to keep the commentary brief.

This cruise may have put me off cruising for a long time! No – it wasn’t bad; it was just too good. I was simply so lucky in so many ways. The weather helped, obviously, but there were other variables such as one’s companions at meal times. The conversation flowed easily (though this may have caused a delay in progressing the meal on occasion, since the waiters were strictly instructed not to clear any plate till all six diners had finished ….)

Then, there was the foursome which formed on the first evening. I approached a table where Sandy and Patsy were sitting and asked if I could join them. Soon afterwards, Sandy went away and came back with Joan. This ‘quartet’ spent every evening together from then on. I don’t quite know what happened there, what instinct Sandy was gifted with, but the companionship of these three people enhanced what was going to be a magical trip anyway:

: Patsy, Sandy

: Joan

: Sandy, Joan, Patsy

Then, the entertainment! First class, professional performances, on six of the seven evenings, from four singers and their pianist (who also performed a condensed ‘Trial By Jury’ on four saxophones!) Not exclusively G & S, but, of course, predominantly, since that’s what most of us had come for! But there was also Mozart, Rossini, ….. and Flanders and Swann!

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The scenery! Castles:

Villages:

Excursions

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The first was at Königswinter where the option was to take Germany’s oldest rack and pinion railway to the foot of the Drachenfels Castle:

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This is where, according to legend, Siegfried slew the dragon. (By George!) The truly panoramic view from the top station of the railway, showed how really low the level of the river was:

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This was going to affect our speed of travel while cruising the Rhine – but not the Mosel, which has locks which control the flow and keep the level more or less constant.

Next day was Koblenz …. hmmm …. not the best of memories and nearly a disaster. I chose not to join the group walk from our mooring to the foot of the cable car and so up to the fortress (overlooking the Deutsches Eck, where the Rhine and the Mosel conflow). Instead I decided to take my time then pop ashore for a bit of shopping ….. Trouble is, I couldn’t find any suitable shops. I happened to meet our Assistant Tour Guide, Sarah, who pointed me in the right direction (and said I had plenty of time). Eventually I found a supermarket, but turned the wrong way when I came out. Instructions are very clear about being back on board in time for the next sailing. That was to be at noon; it was now about 11.15. Trouble is, my sense of direction, such as it is, had completely deserted me, and I hadn’t picked up one of the town plans which had been put out for us. (After all, I was only popping over the road for a bit of shopping.) I quickened my pace, I asked three people for help, two of whom were helpful. I was trying to find the river – can’t miss, surely. 11.45: I’m near the river, but there’s a tangle of railway lines and flyovers and gardens preventing me from getting to it. 11.55, I’m on the river bank, I’m very hot, but it’s starting to drizzle. I can’t see our ship, nor any others come to that. I remembered I had Denisa’s number in my phone from two days before. ‘I’m lost!’ She put Sarah on: ‘Where are you, what can you see?’ It became clear from the position of the fortress and the cable car that I had made my way to the WRONG RIVER! We were moored on the Mosel, and I was stood beside the Rhine. ‘Get to the cable car station – I’ll come and find you’. ‘Are you ready for a brisk walk?’ – ‘Not now, I’m not’ – ‘There’s no choice’. ‘Can’t we find a taxi?’ ‘Not unless there’s one just here’. There wasn’t.

Everyone was at lunch when we got to the ship. My companions were very kind. The ship hadn’t moved. Nor did it for another hour and a half. The on board air conditioning was struggling with the heat, and a replacement part was on its way. Denisa and Sarah told me they remonstrated with the Captain that he hadn’t told them there would be a delay, regardless of my belated return.

The next excursion I did was in Cochem on the Mosel. A chair lift took us up one of the hills, then a fairly short, but rough, walk to the viewpoint where there’s a cross. I’m pleased to say I did the walk with* using my stick, as I did all walking for the whole month.

[*See first comment below; of course it should be “without”, but I’m not correcting the original, because it would make the comment look silly, which it isn’t!]

The only excursion which was included in the price of the cruise was to the Mechanical Music Museum in Rűdesheim. Interesting, well presented, well worth a visit. (Most of what I filmed in there was on video, so we can hear the music playing.) This was the only still:

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Before Rűdesheim, of course, we’d sailed back down the Mosel to K*bl*nz, passing, we were told, the steepest vineyards in the world, and then up the Rhine through the Lorelei Gorge. Because of the low water, this had to be navigated in convoy, and very slowly:

: Mosel’s Vineyards

: Lorelei Rock

: Lorelei Statue (easy to miss!)

: going through in convoy

It had to end, of course. Spontaneous games of table tennis (Joan beat me!), and an organised session of quoits, a quiz every day, ‘free’ time ashore in places I haven’t mentioned, and lots of wine and a few cocktails. For about twice the price one could sail on a more luxurious vessel:

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But what more does one need than a comfortable cabin, a pleasant sun deck, and a nice lounge in case of less favourable weather? (The answer is a swimming pool!):

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However, at 9am on Monday morning, 6th August, after the various coach parties had left, my luggage was brought to the foot of the gangway, and it was time to leave and make my own way back to the bus / train station. (They would have sent for a taxi for me, but I saw no need.) By 10, I was back at the caravan park in Oberbuschem (the taxi driver didn’t know the way round the roadworks, either – he drove along a ‘closed’ road!). Harry and Dippy seem to have been OK, and to my great relief, a new debit card was waiting for me from ‘Britline’, the branch of Credit Agricole where I still have some Euros which I was relying on using, but I hadn’t been able to find the card before leaving home!

One more picture:

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Next time: Salzburg in the rain and Tegernsee in sunshine!

Harry Goes To Wales

8th August Oxwich Beach (12)

Harry!

Ja?

Tell Franky about our holiday.

What? That little grey car? He will not understand. He is like Lady Lucy – he does not speak well English.

Yes, he does! He’s more English than you are. … Just a bit – Yorkshire. Franky!

Yes, Boss?

Tell Harry if you don’t understand him, OK?

Right-o, Boss.

Who is ‘Boss’?

I am – get on with it.

In Ordnung.

What’s he on about?

Harry was right -maybe I shouldn’t have started this …

So – we leave Meltham Monday 31st July. We travel well. We go through sunshine and showers and arrive at Cringoed Caravan Park (near Machinlleth) at about 4.30. We stopped for SKT to have ‘brunch’ at Birch services.

Who is SKT?

I am!

Keep yer whiskers on!

I may have raised this before – is sausage, egg, beans and chips a ‘brunch’?

That know I not.

What?

I do not know this.

I do – it aint.

Next day – Tuesday, we go into Machinlleth, where SKT hopes to find an old friend.

Yes, John Charlesworth, an artist, used to live opposite us in Bolton, but we lost touch after they moved. I found out on the web that he had a studio in Machinlleth, and so he did – but a nice lady at the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) told me he’d moved to Shrewsbury. She made a phone call to see if a colleague had a contact number, but no.

You were lucky to get this information between showers!

Yes – showers interspersed with perods of continuous rain. We drove to Aberystwyth (because it was there, I suppose!) and back to Cringoed.

Do I tell this or do you?

Sorry! – Carry on.

Wednesday 2nd August – we drive back through Mach. to Aber. where SKT has breakfast at Morrison’s, and gets cross about having paid too much for diesel fuel on the way –

I didn’t know we were going to end up at Morrison’s!

– and so on to Whitewell Holiday Park near Tenby, where are already Rachel, Sean, Becky and Shannon with the caravan. We park on the grass some way away and opposite them. Then begins the rain and the wind.

And when there was no rain and wind, there was wind and rain. On Thursday (3rd) the family go off to visit a farm / theme park and I have a lazy day, joining the family for supper when they come back.

And on Friday morning, a couple with a caravan next to the family’s – a German couple as it happens – move away and we move across to occupy that pitch. This makes movement from caravan to me much easier, and safer for Shannon who likes to come and visit quite frequently, especially first thing in the morning, but until now this has involved crossing the ‘road’ between us.

By now we have SUNSHINE! We pack picnics and beach stuff into the big car –

What big car?

Sean’s big car – the one they tow the caravan with, and we head for Coppet Hall Beach:

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(Our camp is centre left with the red shelter and the striped windbreak.)

First, dig out your pool:

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Then, make a channel and dam the stream and let the pool fill up till it overflows! Shannon is the third generation to learn this game on this same beach – though Rachel says she thinks she and Chris played it first in Devon or Cornwall.

Even I have a little swim (in the sea) and thanks to Becky for staying with me. Later Shannon and I watch the boats in Saundersfoot harbour …

… while the others go shopping and come back with fish n chips.

Back at Whitewell, some hardy folk like to sit out between the vans as it gets dark – even if it means wrapping up for warmth:

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This was a GOOD DAY … but it had unfortunate consequences ….

Saturday, 5th August: SUNSTROKE! Or if not sunstroke, sun induced migraine, but with the pain in an unusual place and a very hot forehead. When packing beach stuff into the big car, I forgot to include a hat – even though it was on my checklist –

Dumkopf!

What’s ee say?

He called me a twit.

What, like dick-‘ead?

Exactly.

Eee – I like im!

– then I sat for hours in the sun in one place on that beach. … So on Saturday the family go to visit Caldey Island (which I wasn’t plannng to do anyway) and any thoughts I had of sitting outside or doing a bit of ‘housekeeping’ are forgotten as I lie in Harry most of the day nursing me ‘ead. But it gets better enough for me to stick to the plan and prepare supper for the others ready for when they get back. (Potato Bolognaise – sounds odd, but try it sometime!)

After supper I get the guitar out and have a little singalong. Rachel said people wouldn’t gather round or stop, but I said they do in France, so why not try it and see. What was interesting was that although some folk did comment as they went by, apparently, that it was nice to hear, it was a Polish family – well, mother and daughters, dad being busy with the barbecue – who brought some drinks and sat down for a while.

Sunday is disappointing. The weather has turned nasty again, and the seafood restaurant I’d noticed on the harbour side in Saundersfoot, and invited everyone to have lunch at, proved less than wonderful. (No children’s menu, said they would do a small portion but didn’t, didn’t take cards, but didn’t tell us that when we booked, and presented a bill for six meals when we’d had only five – and one of them for a four-year-old paying full price!)

After coffee and dessert at a different establishment, two fellas return to the vans, while the three lasses go back to the beach to swim in the rain! Well, it’s all wet, I suppose…

Monday (7th) is our moving day. We had not planned to stay with the family all the time and SKT wanted to see the Gower, which before he never visited –

D’yer mean he’d never bin there before, like?

Like what?

It’s just an idiom.

That’s rude.

No, it’s not – carry on, Harry.

SKT and I are ready to leave before the Tuggers appear –

Tuggers?

It’s a nickname Motorhomers use for Caravaners.

– but they come round in time to help remove the levellers. Then we wave goodbye and leave Whitewell. SKT is hoping to find a place for breakfast along the way, but there is nowhere evident till we leave the motoroway near Swansea. So here he has an early lunch from Burger King! Soon we stop again at a big Tesco’s and he buys some cough medicine.

Yes, a harsh and painful cough has been bothering me all morning.

And then is a short drive along the Gower Peninsular to Pitton Cross, just before Rhossili.

Pitton Cross Caravan Park is well away the best site of the three we’ve been on during this trip. (Though the showers were better at Cringoed) There’s a good shop, (though no honey – they say the can’t get it, so a rum toddy for the cough has to wait) and even a sea view from our pitch, so next morning, the weather being fine and warm, it’s cooked breakfast outside: 8th August Breakfast.JPG Then we go exploring. Beach-side car parks in the Gower are motorhome friendly – no height limiters – but overnight parking is forbidden. So we start at Rhossili, which some describe as the finest beach in Britain:

8th August Rhosili Beach.jpg

But we do not stay here – too much walk from car park to beach, down steep path. So we look at Horton:

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Sehr schön. Very nice, but I do not see this as from the car park there is a view only of the dunes. SKT has a little picnic and we move on. Eventually we find Oxwich. (We twice miss the turning as the sign is completely buried in the hedge!)

But perseverance is rewarded, because Oxwich is THE ideal spot for a day at the beach with a motorhome! (In spite of the £6 access fee.)

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You’re almost on the beach, you can set up ‘camp’ or sit near your van, you can cook, picnic or barbecue, and you have your changing facilities, with a hot shower if you want it, right there. Moreover, there’s a snack bar on site and a toilet block, ‘traditional’, but clean and acceptable, if you don’t want to use your onboard facilities.

Meanwhile, the family had come down to visit the Gower Heritage Centre, only 15 minutes away, so they came to join me – only £3 for them and the big car!

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We had tea / coffee, some played on the beach and some went in the water:

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(The red dot upper centre is Rachel, and the white dot to her right is Becky’s head!)

But soon it’s time to pack up: 8th August Oxwich Beach (9a).JPG

They have a long drive back to Whitewell.

And we have a short one back to Pitton Cross, where, having found some honey at the shop in the village, SKT is able to treat his cough with his rum toddy, and for the second evening, there is a remarkable sunset:

sunset 8th Aug

Wednesday (9th August) is fine enough, but with more cloud, more wind, and much less warm. However, Oxwich is so appealing that we go back there. Here is something very British happening; folk have come to enjoy themselves, and they are determined this to do. They are … what do you say – cowarding? –

Cowering!

Ah, ja – they are cowering in their shelters and behind their windbreaks, wearing their anoraks, their fleecies, their hoodies, and that latest must-have accessory – the wetsuit. Occasionally some go down to the sea and swim a bit, but they do not stay long. SKT, he stays inside all day, watching other folk, doing his puzzles and looking at old photos on the computer, as well as taking one or two new ones:

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(Looking towards Three Cliffs Bay – accessible only on foot!)

On the way back to base, I ‘treat’ myself to a meal at the nearest pub. It’s adequate, not wonderful – not a treat!

Thursday 10th is fine and warm again, which is annoying in a way, because it is long drive home day. This weather yesterday would have been very good. We leave Pitton Cross at about 9.15 but go only a short distance to a garden centre where a cafe is doing breakfasts.

Not only doing breakfasts, but doing WELSH breakfasts, so as well as bacon, sausage, egg and mushrooms, I have lava bread and cockles! And with the best, simply made, cup of coffee just like at home – I donta wanta my ‘personal barista’ who maika me waita too long and costa megabucks. In fact, this was the best meal out of the whole trip – and the best value.

So SKT is now ready to drive home with only two more stops – one for the necessary, and one for ice cream. Parts of the journey are slow – M42, M6, Oldham – but we arrive at Helme Park at about 6.45, more or less as expected.

So, that were a good do, eh, Boss?

It were, aye. One or two disappointments like not finding John and only a couple of really fine days, but the Gower is certainly worth another visit, and there were two splendid sunsets:

Sunset 7th Aug (8)

PS: In case you hadn’t noticed (in the media) Saundersfoot beach is up for sale … quarter of a million, anyone?

A Day Out, a Barbecue and a Birthday.

Grandson S had asked for ‘a day out with Grandad’ as a treat, and June 17th (2017) was a really fine day, so we piled furniture and a picnic into Franky and set off for Derbyshire – the Peak District boundary is only just up the hill from Meltham. Down through Glossop and over the Snake Pass brought us alongside the Derwent and Ladybower reservoirs, which gave opportunity to give a little history lesson about the Dambusters, which was topical. There was a picnic site shown on the map – and signed – near the reservoir, but we couldn’t find it, so we drove on through Castleton and picnicked under Mam Tor:

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Grandson decided he wanted to see the Blue John mine and caves; I had suggested one of the caves and was thinking of Treak Cliff, but really I had forgotten what was involved. See the steps? About 220 of them! Although I did keep up with the party, using the handrail and my stick, this was not a good idea! The unrepaired hip has been extra troublesome ever since. I have an appointment to see the ‘Hippy Man’ in September.

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Father’s day, June 18th. Weather still fine and sunny, so the lunch at Oakleigh Close was a barbecue:

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Later in the afternoon, there was fun (for some) in the paddling pool. (I have doubts about this picture – it shows a bit too much of the side effects of hormone treatment!):

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Sitting like that wasn’t comfortable for long, so an alternative was found:

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Throwing water in Gaia’s (Grandad’s) face was great fun – retaliation wasn’t received with equal merriment!

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Saturday July 15th: Shannon is four years old! Our first job – mine and Franky’s –

I were wondering when I was getten a word, like. It were me as took you and that lad over tut Peak District, tha knows.

Of course we know – I said so in the first paragraph, and you’re in the photo of the picnic spot. It was a great drive – don’t get huffy. Tell us about Shannon’s birthday.

Aye, well, fust up, we had to go into Wakefield to pick up a friend –

Vik.

– and her little lass –

Rosie.

Shurrup!

Just ‘splaining.

– off the train from down south –

London.

But tha kept goin round in circles and nearly made us late.

No, I didn’t – just needed to do a bit of birthday related shopping, but getting back to the station – we were there in good time at first – was a bit tricky with the traffic lights and the one-way system. Anyway, this picture is of Rosie and Shannon the next day:

Shannon and Rosie

Aye, well, once we’d packed them in, alongside all your clutter –

What? I’d taken most of it out!

Hmmm …

That’s my line.

Once all in, we went up to that house where Big Harry is and you all disappeared round t’ back.

Where the garden was set out in full party mode:

Party Time!

In fact, it was full of children and parents – mostly mums – as well. The slide was the special parental present two years ago; this year’s was the trampoline in the background. There was a lot of feeding going on, as well as playing – then it was time for CAKE!:

Birthday Girl with Cake

Or several cakes, really, but only one big chocolatey one in the shape of a 4, with CANDLES on ….

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU …..”

Birthday Girl

The Removal from Sonnac, Part Four – The Journey Home.

This photo should have been in the last chapter. The evening meal in Mirepoix was mentioned, but the photo didn’t get inserted. Michel and Diana are sitting diagonally opposite each other; the man raising his glas is their friend, Hugh:

Harry?

Ja?

Do you want to do it?

What?

Write the diary.

Why?

Dunno – I thought you might like to.

So … Aber nein – you do it; I will just, what you say, chip in, when I will.

OK. So it’s day 16, Good Friday, 14th April, and we’re leaving Sonnac at 1.50pm.

You did not seem very sad.

No, I wasn’t. I’d been looking forward to it.

In fact, you drove along saying ‘Bye-Bye’ to everything and everywhere.

I did. ‘Bye-Bye, Camplimoux; Bye-bye, Camon,’ and even, (join in everyone!) ‘Bye-bye, La BASTIDE de BOUSignac!’ And, of course, the Hers, which, incidentally, was not much more than a lickle trickle compared with the full river of nearly two weeks ago. The ‘Piebald Pyrenees’ were different, too, with much more black showing through the snow.

Good Friday is not a public Holiday in France, so I overshot the motorway in Pamiers to go to the Orange shop –

You went to buy oranges?

No, you daft goose, Orange, capital O. I’d been told on the phone that I was NOT to leave the IT equipment in the house, but to take it (livebox and TV decoder) to an Orange shop. That took longer than you’d think! Then back round the roundabout to Intermarché’s fuel station, and so with a full tank and a seriously cluttered interior, not to mention a full garage, with the bed at its highest, we headed north, but only as far as the first aire for a quick, late lunch – just a sandwich. (It was already 3.30) Then the serious travelling began …

However, at Aire Jardin des Causses du Lot I had to stop for a rest, but in the end we did make 351 kms to arrive at the old favourite, Porte de Correze, at 8.30. Supper from a tin, and a good night’s sleep – even on a service area!

DSCN1068 (That’s a photo from a previous journey, but the location and the view are the same. I can’t imagine waking up to a view like that on a British service area, having parked overnight for free!)

Ja; sehr schön.

Day 17, Saturday 15th April. Porte de Correze doesn’t only have scenery and pleasant facilities, but it has an excellent gift shop, with lots of local produce and a wide range of possibilities for presents. Maybe that’s an advantage of not charging for parking – folk go in and spend! So I did that, and bought a croissant for breakfast as well, but drove on the 20kms (15 minutes) needed to get to that other favourite, Briance Ligoure, before enjoying it:

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Hey! Why is here little Sally?

Well, if you remember the weather was poor, – cold and showery – on April 15th, so I searched for an earlier photo, and thought a reminder of the ‘old’ days might be fun.

Na, gut.

Of course, I didn’t get out to enjoy my café-croissant at a picnic table! That would have been taking nostalgia a bit too far!

I have table, where you often enjoy many things.

I know – I love it. Anyway, another short hop –

I don’t hop!

This is taking ‘chipping in’ too far! Another short drive got us to J 37, the usual fill-up point at the Centre Commercial just off the motorway. But something had changed – there had always been height limiters approaching the petrol station, and we’d always passed under them, but they used to have ‘dangly-jangly’ bits on them, which weren’t there any more, and they looked lower than before. They were signed at 3m, and Harry is 2.7, but that’s without the TV aerial. Also, there were no vehicles of similar height already on the forecourt, though it was busy. I didn’t want to risk it, but I parked up and went to do some shopping – another place undergoing major reconstruction, then I had to use the SatNav to find the next nearby fuel station, which gave me an interesting ride – not a hop! – round the outskirts of Limoges – so interesting, in fact, that Carol would have loved it when we passed one verge covered in wild orchids! (She’d have wanted me to stop dead and let her out to take photos – on a ring road!)

I’d allowed an extra day for this journey, to give time to visit Montlouis and Vouvray in the Loire valley, so somewhere between Limoges and Orléans I left the motorway –

So also did I –

WE left the motorway, and since I realised it was probably going to be too late for wine-tasting that evening, which may or may not have been a good decision, we headed for a camp site I’d found in the guide book. This was in the village, or small town, of Salbris, and we got dead lucky – a lovely little lakeside site, with a warm welcome and nice facilities, even a water tap at the pitch. (250 kms driven that day.)

It was remarkably unbusy for Easter weekend. In summer there would be a swimming pool and a bar-restaurant, but never mind, a tin of Cassoulet made a nice enough supper. (It’s a speciality from Castelnaudary, and having never tried it when living nearby, I thought I should before leaving. …. It won’t be on the ‘must have that again’ list. It consists mainly of sausage, other meat and beans.)

Day 18. Sunday 16th (Easter Day) I wasn’t in a hurry to get away that morning, so I took my time using the campsite facilities to attend to Harry’s “water” jobs, and it was 11.25 before we moved off site. Approaching from the south, it made sense to head for Montlouis first (I wish I knew how to put maps on here …). Getting to the town was no problem, but the centre stands high above the river (the Loire) where the wine centres are, and finding the way down was a nightmare! –

Yes, you drove round in the circles, no?

Well, we certainly did do one or two streets –

Very narrow streets!

– we did one or two very narrow streets more than once, but this was because of road works and closures. And if we did drive through a pedestrianised area (it certainly looked like one) it was because I couldn’t find any other way. Still, finally we did get down –

Very steeply down!

– to the riverside and on to a familiar road with a number of wine tasting / selling outlets – BUT! Big disappointment – everywhere was closed! I was assuming that there would be lots of holiday traffic to attract, but apparently not, or maybe strict Sunday laws were in force.

So we moved on to Tours, as we had to to cross the river. After a brief lunch stop – at Harry’s table – on to Vouvray, but fearing the situation would be the same as in Montlouis. But no – maybe not all, but several wine centres were open. I only needed one anyway. Why the North and South banks of the Loire were different with regard to Easter Day opening, I didn’t find out, perhaps the river is the boundary between départements or other administrative areas, but anyway, loaded with 2 six-bottle boxes of still and pétillant (bubbles!), and nowhere to put them, we headed back to Tours to join the motorway to drive north via Le Mans and Rouen.

The rest of the day’s drive was uneventful, even Rouen was free-flowing, or ‘fluide’ as it says on the signs. The season was considerably advanced from just a fortnight before; most of the white blossom was faded or had dropped, but the cowslips were even more prolific. Rape fields and sections of gorse were brilliant yellow, but green was dominant.

I know I go on a bit about it, but I am still amazed by the variety and design of the service areas and lay-bys on French motorways. Pulling in to a previously unvisited layby south of Le Mans, the Aire des Croiselles, I found we were in a sort of mini nature reserve! In fact, the construction of this section of the A28 had been delayed till 2004 because of the habitat of the protected beetle, Osmoderma Eremita, (Hermit Beetle?) Why the French call it the Pique-Prune (Plum Stabber) I can’t work out since it lives on dead wood, not plums, but this ‘rest area’ has a sector designed to provide habitat for it:

There were also: (click on the photos for titles)

a water meadow

a fragrant area for relaxation

and walls made for lizards to hide in.

However, there was still ground to cover, and we actually got as far as Baie de Somme before stopping for the night. It was 9pm and we’d done nearly 600 kms. The more scenic parking areas would have been out in the wind, and I wanted to be near the facilities, so I parked near the building, and since the restaurant was still open, I had a meal of chicken in white sauce with ratatouille and new potatoes, which was actually much nicer than it looked, having been on the counter for some time, I guess. I also used the wifi to book a ferry crossing for the next day.

Day 19. Monday 17th April Café-croissant for breakfast, and a check on the email, and, of course, a visit to the gift shop – like Porte de Correze, Baie de Somme has an irresistible selection, so a bit of shopping was unavoidable.

Since the break at Limoges, I’d been trying to exchange Harry’s spare gas bottle which was (is) empty. But I should have done it a long time ago – I’d left it too late! –

He called me the dumme Gans!

OK – chalk that one up to you. The petrol stations were all unattended (Easter Sunday / Monday) – pay by card at the pump, but no-one on hand to open the cages of gas bottles. But I didn’t give up – using satnav I found a small petrol station, open, just off the motorway in Calais, and the young man at the till was quite happy to get a bottle out for me – there were six bottles of the right type visible in the cage …. every one of them was empty! But we only found that out after I’d pulled loads of stuff out of Harry’s garage to get at the spare bottle, and spread it around his back wheel on the forecourt (the stuff, not the bottle)!! (There’s no-one to take the best photos!) I did give up! So I have no reserve gas. (The point is that the bottles in question, and the regulator that fits them, are French, or European, so to change to British ones will involve expense and leave me with two unreturnable bottles, one of them with gas in.)

Pleasant ferry crossing, and as we approached Dover (I’ve posted so many ‘White Cliffs’ photos over the years.) I texted the Offspring “The cliffs are very white, the sky is blue and white, and the sea is blue-green. The litter will be ‘orrible.”

I could leave it there, but there are two days to go before Harry gets ‘home’ (i.e. Wakefield) and I resume babysitting duties. We got to Porton Court (Surbiton) at 5pm, 269 kms driving from Baie de Somme, and a familiar yellow Corsa was guarding the most convenient visitor’s parking bay for Harry. Christine and Carol provided a nice evening meal and I found a bottle of Vouvray somewhere. (It wasn’t hard – the two boxes were – and are – still on the top step just inside Harry’s hab. door.)

Day 20. Tuesday 18th April Harry had a rest day! I spent some time choosing a few – quite a few – of Philip’s clothes to keep, before the family decide what to do with the rest, then later Carol drove us out in the yellow Corsa to Richmond Park when we had a light lunch – fine enough for al fresco. I knew nothing about Richmond Park, although it’s the largest royal park in London, about 2,500 acres and home to over 600 deer (google it for more info). From King Henry’s Mound there’s a remarkable view, with an amazing long-distance sight of St. Paul’s through a well-kept gap in the hedges, trees and buildings all the way to central London:

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(I didn’t take that – I ‘borrowed’ it from a website) I took these – the first one points away from St. Paul’s and includes (the viewpoint diagram says) Heathrow and Windsor Castle:

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Then we went down into Kingston to do the return river trip to Richmond and back – a section of the river I hadn’t done before. This is approaching Teddington Lock:

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Back at Porton Court, Judi joined us, which was nice, before we went out for a very enjoyable Chinese meal. The restaurant we’d been to before was closed, so we tried a different one – I think it will stay on the list of options.

Final Day. Day 21. Wednesday 19 April Not a lot to report, really. On the road at 10 am, and took the M42, which enables a stop at Beaconsfield Services, where there’s a Weatherspoon’s for brunch, as well as avoiding any traffic problems around Watford and South Mimms. Then a bit of the A43 gets you to join the M1 at Northampton. No problems anywhere, and arrived at Oakleigh Close at 4.30. 355 kms from Porton Court.

Total round trip in these three weeks, 2336 miles – well done, Harry!

Lots of hard work, one big setback, one major job done, and some nice moments mixed in. I wish I could say ‘back to normal’, but radiotherapy starts tomorrow; return drives to Leeds (about one hour each way) every weekday for the next month …. but that’s the next story.

(Photo by Judi on a previous visit.)

One preliminary contract signed, one sale hits the buffers, Grandad’s taxi and minding service is much in demand and Shannon builds a tower …

… Not to mention a New-Year visit to Cumbria, which included two beautiful golden evenings with perfect reflections in Coniston Water (but sadly no photos – missing my piccy-taker in the passenger seat, you know) and, of course, a day in Grasmere:

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But other visits to Cumbria have been less rewarding. Having put the flat in Murton View on the market, there was immediate interest, and an acceptable offer. However, the purchaser’s survey revealed serious, and expensive, work needed to underpin the conservatory and shore up the garden (where it drops steeply into the neighbouring field),

so she eventually withdrew rather than drop the price by £10,000, leaving me to get the work done before offering it for sale again. British Gas have been messing me about, too. Carol ‘invested’ £40,000 in that place; I’ll be lucky if I get ten back …

Sunejo’s sale is going ahead slowly, though, and the preliminary contract (the ‘compromis de vente’) was signed in my absence last week. I’ve booked the removal for Holy Week, and Rachel is thinking of coming down with Shannon the week before to do what they can to help. Niece Judi also offered help, but the dates didn’t fit. Thanks for a much appreciated offer, though. Pam and Trevor are keeping an eye on the house for me, which is helpful, and they’ve bought Lucy off me, which also helps.

The local G & S Society have not only asked me to join the committee, but asked me to be Chairman, too. Seems odd, since I’ve been around for less than a year, and in the end I didn’t take part in their annual performance, so they really don’t know me, nor whether I have any skills in chairmanship.

Both families have needed to call on taxi and minding services from time to time, when a child has been off school or a Dad (Him, not me!) has needed ferrying somewhere or even taking to the doctor’s. I babysit for Shannon once a week anyway, but this week it was extended to a whole day as she was a bit unwell and Rachel needed to work. After breakfast yesterday Shannon asked if we could get the bricks out as she wanted to build a castle. Being of one mind, Rachel and I both began to sing “Build me a castle, build it up high -” Shannon gave us her best ‘don’t be silly’ look and said “We’re not building a pie!” It was a classic ‘gladly’ moment, and if you don’t get that reference, just ask and I’ll know you’re there.

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A birthday, two returns to Grasmere and one to Coniston.

…and some traumatic dentistry ….

July 15th was Shannon’s 3rd birthday, and there was a party the next day, being Saturday. A week earlier, however, I’d had all remaining bottom teeth extracted (only six!) and that has had a profound effect on just about everything ever since, as anyone who has had a similar experience might understand. Not to go in to too much detail, I’ve had considerable difficulty adjusting to the new dentures, and enjoyment of meals is very much reduced for now.

Is that why you don’t cook like you used to?

Yes, Harry, exactly, – it is. But never mind, it’s getting better, bit by bit.

Bite by bite?

No, that’s not what I said!

Anyway, there’s another picture of birthday girl during her party.

On July 18th I had a further consultation with my “Hippy Man” (orthopedic consultant) and having received a communication from the oncologist, saying that she was happy for at least one hip replacement to go ahead before the cancer treatment, he agreed to proceed with that, hopefully sometime in September.

July 30th. Franky?

What? Oh, aye – that really slow trip up tut Lake District! That were a bad un!

Yes, it was, but we met with Chris and family in Bowness and they asked the staff at the pub they’d chosen about where an old man with reduced mobility but no blue badge might park, an they said to drive up to the bollards right outside, in spite of the double yellows and it would be OK. And it was. We had a good lunch, and I managed jacket potato with baked beans – but had to ‘lose’ the teeth part way through! Then we got lucky in finding a roadside space not far from the boat moorings so that we all enjoyed a cruise round the islands of Bowness Bay.

After the cruise we went on to Grasmere – Helm Grag is in the centre of the photo, with the ‘lion’ clearly visible, but not the ‘lamb’ from this angle – and made our way down to the lakeside, though not by the ‘usual’ route because the lay-by was fully occupied. Chris and family then left for a tea-time visit to friends in Kendal, and Franky and I moved on to to Grasmere village where I was staying at the Red Lion. Last time I was there they were in the middle of renovations, and had offered me a free B & B for one night to compensate, so I was taking avantage of that. This time my room was at the front of the building with Dollywagon Pike (centre left overlooking the village) in the view: DSCN3610

Parking were difficult in Grasmere, weren’t it?

It were, aye. – It was, yes. No chance to park within or near the hotel grounds, so I had to leave you on the far side of the green. (The green is just visible above the red car in the photo.)

It were OK – I were bothered for thee and tekkin luggage across t’green.

I didn’t have much. I was disappointed by the reaction of the receptionist when I explained about my eating problem. He said he was sure I could find something suitable on the menu. Well, I couldn’t – not at a price I wanted to pay, anyway. So I made do with what I’d brought with me – a hard boiled egg and some potatoes and mayonaise. Breakfast was better – I was able to choose suitable items from the ‘full English’.

July 31st: I brought Franky round to the hotel car park to pick up the luggage,

Then we had a reet good drive round yon lake –

Thirlmere

Aye, up one side, and back down t’other.

Yes – Helvellyn is still scarred where the torrents came down and destroyed the road, but the views of Thirlmere are so much better than they used to be – they’re reducing the forest and replacing with more ‘natural’ species.

I had some soup at the Grasmere garden centre, and having left my folding chair in Harry, went on to Hayes in Ambleside to buy another, better, one, and doubling back to Grasmere to sit by the lake for a while. No photos – they’d look the same as previous ones!

The M6 was slow again on the way home, so I thought I’d drive the Trough of Bowland instead. I was following signs OK, but I must have missed one, and found I was back on the A6 and re-joining the motorway! But it was flowing better south of Lancaster, so we got home OK.

First week of August included a return to the dentist, who agreed there was a problem with the lower denture. She said the socket which had been infected was going to be a ‘slow healer’, but she filed the plate down a bit, which has made it a bit better. I also got a British MoT for Harry – not easy with his French plates, as they couldn’t find him ‘on the system’ until they entered his former (UK) registration. So they had to put UK plates on him, which I took off again when I got home! I’ve completed the paperwork to re-import him (with Rachel’s help), but it’s not straightforward. European standardisation, eh? I can’t insure him in the UK as I haven’t lived here for 12 months! Never mind the previous 67 years!! I picked up some new specs from Specsavers, too.

So Harry?

Ja?

Want to do a bit? – your fan club have been asking to hear from you – all one of ’em.

Dass ist aber nett! How nice! What can I say? You packed me up very slowly over several days and set off for Coniston on Monday –

8th August –

Ja, richtig – When we got to the Caravan Club site there were already Rachel with husband, daughter and stepdaughters. With also their Wohnwagen.

Caravan.

So you call it. They have reserved us a pitch nearby. So – you park me up, and don’t move me for a week. Well, at least it wasn’t two months. And it wasn’t cooking hot*. In fact it was raining.

Not all the time!

Mostly.

Yes, well that’s Cumbria in August. You’re allowed one fine day per week. I was there six days, and I missed it. I decided to hire a car, if only to get around the camp site, but that meant getting to Kendal, and although the hire firm came for me, it still took out most of the day on Wednesday.

It was easier with Sally.

I know …..

On Thursday – the wettest day of the week – I drove over Wrynose and Hard Knott passes, taking Rachel’s friend Jane with me (and a little deaf dog). She was camped on the neighbouring site, Coniston Hall, which is where, many years ago, the whole camping / campervanning / motorhoming adventure began. Imagine! Me and a little 8 year old girl in a tiny 2-person ridge tent and a Citroën Dyane! Someone would call the police these days!

Anyway, there were no views on that outing, but the cascades were magnificent! We did Hard Knott both ways, with lunch (more soup!) at Dalegarth Station, but didn’t come back over Wrynose, choosing to follow the Duddon valley instead. Lots of white water.

Next day I took the family for a ride on the Lakeside and Haverthwaite Railway to visit the Aquarium at Lakeside – that is, they provided the transport and I treated them to the ride and the visit.

Shannon seemed to enjoy the train rides:

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Engine ‘Victor’ runs round the train to connect at the other end: DSCN3612

While steamship ‘Tern’ approaches to make the connection:

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Shanon watches, and Mummy photos ‘Victor’ bringing the train in to take us back:

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On Saturday I took the hired car back to Kendal (do American firms really close at 12 noon on Saturday till 9am Monday morning? Or is all that TV advertising just ‘Enterprising’ propaganda?), then used my bus pass to get a 555 to Grasmere to meet the family there. I tried to take some photos from the bus of views we can’t get from a car. Top deck would have been better, of course, and open-top on a fine day better still, but I wasn’t up for the stairs! Here are the Langdale Pikes across Windermere:

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I wanted to be in Grasmere that day – it was Carol’s birthday. Again, the garden centre was the most convenient place to park for lunch, but the soup didn’t appeal, so I managed a piece of fish, without chips. Thanks for that, family.

The weather wasn’t ideal, but we got down to the lake side – with more than usual difficulty in my case, and finding ‘my’ beaches occupied by fisher folk, we moved on to the spot where we had set up a base on July 9th last year, which was not inappropriate.

Shannon and Mummy do a ‘paddle dance’ while half-sister Becky prepares for another plunge into deeper water. (She stayed in for an hour!) I sat and watched, not feeling on top form …..

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I’ve had a mild form of tinnitus for some time, but on Saturday morning something seemed to ‘move’ in my left ear with a sort of ‘twang’ which hurt a bit. That and discomfort from the teeth was partly why I just sat by the lake with my hood up. Since then, I’ve had ‘total face-ache’ on the left side affecting teeth, nose, ear, temple, eye and head. Also today, Tuesday, the symptoms of migraine. I’ve taken all the pain killers I can lay my hands on (I would have taken some of Carol’s left-over morphine if I had any here, but I haven’t, as far as I know, which is perhaps just as well.), so I saw a doctor at the local practice yesterday and he agreed with my suggestion that it was probably neuralgia. He added amitriptyline to the medicines I’m already taking, but it could take up to two weeks to take effect!

Anyway, I got Harry packed up on Sunday morning and completed the job by doing the ‘waterworks’ with Rachel and Sean’s help. The drive home was striaghtforward and uneventful, but I didn’t want to go on to Wakefield to park Harry up and bring Franky back. And I haven’t wanted to do that yesterday or today, either. Tomorrow I have a pre-op appointment at the hospital (though no date for an op yet!) and Chris is planning to join me afterwards to get the job done.

So – you plan to leave me bei Rachel again?

Yes – but you’re very useful there. You provide me with a bedroom without going upstairs. And there’s electricity for you, which I can’t provide here.

As you would say, M’sieur: hmmm ….

*Harry is remembering our time at Puivert in 2012, when we were on the one site for two months, two weeks and two days and he only moved once! And it was baking hot!

Franky goes to …. the capital.

Franky!

Yes, Boss?

What have you been doing for the last month?

Ee, eck – I don’t know! Seems tha left me wi t’babby at start on it.

Well, I didn’t leave you HOLDING the baby, did I?

No – tha pushed off in Big ‘Arry and disappeared for a few days.

Yes, we wrote that up already.

Next day tha took me back to t’dealers where tha got me from.

Yes, and that was a waste of time! They said there was nowt -nothing – wrong with you!

Well, there isn’t, is there?

So why do you keep ‘throbbing’ when we’re waiting to move off, and why doesn’t your radio come on when it should?

Ee, eck – I don’t know!

You keep saying that. Where next? 1st of June?

Oh, aye – that pointless trip to Manchester wi thi lad.

It wasn’t exactly pointless – we had a good lunch. Yes, we were auditioning together for a certain TV show –

And yer didn’t get on it.

Well, we don’t know yet, but, well, no probably not, so maybe that bit was a bit, sort of, pointless. Incidentally, so was trying to park at Oldham and go in on the tram. Not a hope! What about the next week, June 9th?

Ee, aye – that were a long un! Ovver the ‘ill to Sheffield, then all t’way down t’motorway to London. Motorway were all right, but after that ….

Yes, we’d arranged to meet family – Philip, Christine and Carol – for a meal before seeing ‘Showboat’ at the theatre in central London. The drive was very slow and tricky – but we got there, and found the car park, more or less on time.

showboat

(More pictures – just search ‘Showboat’ New London Theatre. Or click on that photo and it will take you there.)

After the show we took the others back to Surbiton.

Aye – and next morning tha pushed off again and left me for a week on yon car park.

It’s a very nice nice car park. Harry’s been there often.

Where did tha get to, then?

Ah, well. Train to Southampton to get on a ship. Then a cruise to Guernsey, La Rochelle, Bilbao and La Coruña.

DSCN3464

(There are more photos – nothing very special cos the weather wasn’t so good – in an album on One Drive. If I haven’t shared it with you, just ask if you want to see it.)

Sounds like fun.

Hmm … might have been. Worth trying, but I’ll stick to travel in Harry, I think – if I can drive him after the hip replacement.

Back at Surbiton, more ‘shipboard’ entertainment with HMS Pinafore at the theatre in Kingston, performed by an all male cast!

Very entertaining, in spite of the strange concept!

Next day there was a barbecue on the lawn at Porton Court – weather held off the bad stuff just long enough! and on Sunday 17th we had lunch out followed by a return rubber or two / three at the home of Philip and Christine’s friend, Ena. Ena and I, while not calling the grand slam we made, still made enough of the good hands we had to take ‘revenge’ fo the total wipeout P & C inflicted on us a few months ago!

So to the drive home on Monday 18th. Uneventful.

I wouldn’t say that.

What would you say?

Dunno – not that.

Well, we did it with only one stop, which is unusual. Torrential rain to start with but sunshine to welcome us home.

Since then – one evening babysitting in Wakefield, several school runs –

They want to get that road fixed ! I could get hurt going up there!

I know. Several school runs, and one to A & E to pick up Chris & S. who had broken his collarbone. Sunday lunch at Linfield, and quite a bit of political excitement – if that sort of thing excites you! Oh – and a first visit to Meltham G & S group to rehearse ‘The Sorcerer’.

Next consultation at hospital on own behalf – July 18th.

That’s about it. BFN

Ta-ra!

DSCN3579

Summer Time!

Wow! There had been nothing in weather forecasts that I had seen or heard which had led me to anticipate t h a t when I came through to the kitchen at 6am this morning (Easter Monday, 28/03/16); big, heavy, ‘Christmassy’ snowflakes falling straight down. However, two hours later, after I’d taken my coffee back to bed and half slept and dreamt through the ‘Today’ programme which seemed to be being broadcast from a performance of ‘Patience’ in Penrith(?!), the snow at this level has turned to drizzle, though there’s a good covering on the Moor.

‘Summer Time’ started yesterday, of course, which was also Easter Day, a coincidence which can’t crop up all that often. I played ‘Father Easter’ to both families, popping down first to Linthwaite with choccy-thingies for the children, a little b-day pressy for Chris and a bottle of Vouvray for him and Michelle to share; then later on we went over to Sharlston with another sackful of goodies for big girls and a little one, not to mention more bottles for grown-ups, who provided a more than ample Easter Sunday lunch, or dinner as I think I’m supposed to say in Yorkshire ….

Aye, tha should – we don’t know this ‘lunch’ word round ere. Tha’ll stick out like a sore thumb if tha carries on talking funny. …

Thanks for that, Franky. Did you enjoy your wash last week?

Aye, ta very much; tha got round to it in th’end.

How about yesterday’s journeys?

They were OK; no hold-ups, but comin back ome were a bit tough, eh? Fust it chucked heavy rain at us, then we was goin straight west into bright sunlight, reflected ont wet roads.

Yes – a bit hard, that. No plans today (though as a fan of Rupert Davies as Maigret in the early sixties, I’m looking forward to seeing how Rowan Atkinson plays the part this evening), a house viewing tomorrow and a consultation with an oncologist on Thursday. That’s in Bradford, after babysitting in Sharlston on Wednesday evening.

Tough Drives!

Now then, Franky, lad – we’ve had a couple of difficult drives these last two days, eh?

Aye, we av an all.

Do you want to tell folk about them?

Aye, appen I could. Fust up, we ad to get from ome to Wharfedale, Bolton Abbey – it’s grand up yon! – but there’s no good way to get there, like, is there? It’s all stop, start, crawl, roundabouts, traffic lights – hardly any open road along whole o’ t’way.

You’re right – SatNav said an hour and a half to do 40 miles, so I allowed two hours, and we needed it! But we got there just on time to find Philip and family already installed in the ‘Devonshire Arms’, where we had a very tasty lunch. (No photos – again, if GPT wants to send some, I’ll add them – they should include Judi, who wasn’t there at the brunch on Monday.)

Aye, well; after that, we ad to get down to Wakefield in time for tea – but tha took us a long way round, like, eh?

I did, yes. Carol and I had done Wharfedale (Grassington) to Wakefield once before in Harry, and I’d said ‘never again!’ because the route was much the same as from Huddersfield. So we headed for Harrogate and Wetherby to get on the motorway. It was a nice scenic start, but slow through Harrogate.

Who’s Harry?

You know – my motorhome where I sleep when I’ve been babysitting in Wakefield.

Oh – im! E talks funny, dunt e?

Well, he’s French made and spent his first year in Germany. Why, anyway?

Well, tha went off in that little black car, wi thi lass an t’babby. So we had a chat, sort off.

What about?

Thee, mainly.

Oh, yes?

Aye, e says I’d best be careful, or tha’ll bash me up.

Did he, indeed. Anyway, yes – Rachel and I did go out to lunch yesterday (Thurs 17th) with Shannon. We went to the garden centre and I bought a little planted trough for my doorstep.

Aye – and tha’d best get it out from t’footwell where tha left it!

I know – I was tired.

Well, happen it needs fettlin’.

Fettlin?

Tekkin care of – looking after.

OK! What about the next drive?

Ee – that were a bad un! Should’ve ad plenty time to get from Rachel’s to Chris’s, leaving at 4 o’clock.

(We were on taxi service to get N. to ‘Rainbows’)

BUT! Motorway signs said ’30 mins delay’, so we left motorway an followed the A62 – talk about CRAWLIN’ !- it wor wuss than t’day before. Took till 6 o’clock, nearly! But we got little lass to er club on time.

We did! “We got her to the church on time!” (“Wiv a little bit o luck!”)

HARRY COMES HOME

Sunejo, Thursday, March 27th 2014, 17.23:

Hallo, Lady Lucy!

Bonjour, Milord. How are you?

Ich bin müde, tired – fatigué.

Ah – you have voyaged, er – travelled much?

1,000 miles in four days!

Miles?

Er, 1,600 kilometres.

Oh, là! Racontez!

OK; Monday morning, we went into Wakefield to pick up HIS brother. –

Excusez-moi – whose brother?

HIS – M’sieur’s.

M’sieur S’s? Why you call HIM?

I’ve always called HIM ‘HIM’.

Well stop it, c’est peu gentil; how you say, not nice.

(Bossy as well as posh!) OK – I’ll use his initials; he likes that. We went to pick up SKT’s brother outside the hotel where he’d been staying, then we headed for the A1 –

L’autoroute?

Mmm, no – in England ‘Autoroutes’ are ‘Motorways’, so they are M1, M2 etc. ‘A’ roads are main roads, like your Routes Nationales. So we made for the A1 because the M1 is covered with road works – ‘travaux’ – and slow moving traffic. On the way south, they filled up with turkey salad (which Florence had insisted they should take with them after providing lunch on Friday) and SKT filled me up with diesel at Tesco’s near Welwyn.

(I didn’t ‘fill up’ actually; I tried to judge how much we needed to get to Calais.)

The M25 was free-flowing (‘fluide’ en français) so the journey round London to Surbiton didn’t take too long and at Porton Court Philip’s car had been placed on the visitor’s space near the gate to ‘keep’ it for me:

You can’t see it clearly, but that’s the first picture of my new skylight! (The big one above the hab. door.)

Once again the Thompsons resident at Porton Court knew how to give us a good end-of-stay – remember the trip on the river last time? A table had been booked at ‘The Grove’ and the meal was delicious, and British! The only drawback was that someone assured us it was only a short walk from Porton Court*; BOTH my hips objected to that! Yes, the left one has started playing up as well!

*Try saying “a short walk from Porton Court” out loud; then say it several times in front of a mirror – and try not to laugh!

But, SKT, you’ve driven me for most of 5,000 kms without once moving your leg by hand, so your right hip is better, isn’t it?

Yes, it is; but the consultant said to avoid long walks. But let’s not go on about whether or not the walk was long or short, the meal was excellent, and I didn’t ask anyone to fetch a car to go backwards after.

Hein? Il est fou, ce M’sieur S.!

That wasn’t me – it was the computer, it skipped…… ‘to go back afterwards’.

Tuesday 25th March: On the road at about 9.15 and a fairly easy run to Dover, with one stop, and switching over to the M2 / A2 to drop directly onto the harbour and avoid the slow finish through Dover town. Easy check-in and on to a very lightly-loaded car deck. I understand they had a final taste of English food on board – Cumberland Sausage and Cornish Pasty were mentioned – so at Calais it was a quick exit onto the ‘autoroute’, but we pulled off at J 31 to fill up with diesel – SKT had judged very well how much to put in at Welwyn, as we were nearly empty! I met a ‘friend’ on the car park when SKT went into the Hypermarché:

We were there first – the other driver must have thought ‘If they can take four spaces, so can we!’ We stopped twice more on the way to Rouen, once at an ‘aire’ with a viewpoint over the Channel. –

LA MANCHE!

If you like:

But it was cold:

and the sculpture and display were all about wind, different names for winds and the noises they make:

And the other stop was at the old favourite, Baie de Somme – cold, wet and windy, but good shopping and nice coffee and cookies! We found the good way round Rouen – under the white cliffs – and so got to Ymare, where Daniel lives, soon after 7pm. Daniel provided me with electricity and THEM – sorry! SK & CLT – with a nice meal. The electricity was important because of the food in my fridge and because it froze during the night.

The food froze?

No! Not the food! the weather, le temps, la température.

Oh, pardon, je comprends maintenant.

Wednesday 26th March. Daniel had to leave for work before SK & CLT were ready, but that was OK as he had placed his car in front of me, so as to leave first. We left at 10 o’clock and stopped for elevenses –

For what?

Zweites Frühstück.

This doesn’t help.

Well, it’s very English, really; it’s a cup of tea or coffee or something that they drink halfway between breakfast and lunch.

C’est bizarre, ça! Elevenses ……

Well, anyway, they stopped for coffee and pastries –

Ah! Café et viennoiseries! You should have said.

They stopped at the aire just beyond St Rémy, then an hour or so later, after joining the motorway north of Orléans, they had lunch at the Aire du Héron Cendré:

You see this sculpture as you pull in; SKT had to get out and have a fit of silliness. At Boismandé we found an adequate motorhome service point and let the grey water go, and we turned off the motorway at J31, just south of Limoges to fill up with diesel. Soon after that we were at Aire Porte de Corrèze and parked up for the night. SKT warmed up the Irish Stew kept in my ice-box since the visit to Florence (but taken out to thaw earlier in the day). Then he indulged in another fit of silliness – bananes flambées.

Why was this silliness, as you call?

Mensch! You didn’t see where the flames went!

(Fortunately, neither did Carol!)

We had driven 500 kms that day and were glad of a quiet night.

Thursday 27th March

This is not a bad view to wake up to – many a hotel guest has a less good one, or none at all!

After breakfast (café-criossant), we decided to take the scenic route to the building, to use the facilities and browse the shop. Down past the little lake:

Alongside the copse with the wood anemones in flower:

Over the little bridge: And up the steps.

One or two legs protested about this and to return to Harry we took the more direct, level route (round the car park).

So on the road again – at 11.15! But only 350 kms to go so the late start didn’t matter much. Elevenses at Aire Jardin des Causses du Lot, even after 12 o’clock, and lunch at about 1.30. The first view of the Pyrenées was welcome but difficult to photograph as the white of the mountain-tops merged with the pale grey of the sky:

A stop in Mirepoix for a bit of shopping and here we are.

……..

We are indeed – well done, Harry! A round trip of 5331 kms (3331 miles), of which 3147 kms (1966 miles) within England. That’s quite a lot of zig-zagging up and down the country! Sunejo was cold as we’d left the heat on anti-frost only, so we were very grateful to get a call from Nick and Carolyn Chez Maison Bleue with an invitation to supper. When we got back the house was noticeably warmer.

Two days later, while Carol was trying to deal with the 35-50 molehills which need to be removed before I can cut the grass, which in any case is too soggy to run the ‘tracteur’ over, we had another invitation, this one from Pam and Trevor who have found a property and signed the ‘Compromis de Vente’. So we went to their temporary home – the Gîte at Limbrassac – and enjoyed a scenic drive to view their home-to-be from the outside, followed by a lovely meal at the Gîte. Now we’ve lost another hour with the arrival of ‘summer’ time! That’s two ‘missing’ hours in one week! How time flies!

Harry to Lucy (2). S.K.T. fills in the details.

Liebe Lucy / Milady,

I continue to TRAVEL (not voyage!) a lot! And I have met people I also have not seen before, but first we went to Newcastle to visit Florence Kirkby, whom I have seen previously. THEY had lunch with her, which HE had cooked the night before and taken up the A1 (that’s a road) in a pot in my sink!

Then we went even further north and made our way to The Lee, near Longframlington, where lives an old friend of M’sieur S’s (as you name him). Steve and Louise Bray have this house at the top of a hill – some challenging bits on the way there! – with wonderful views to the front:

and behind:

[Steve was Head of Music at Boothville Middle School, Northampton, when I was Head of French there; we became good friends and have kept in touch over the 32 years since I left Boothville and the 29 years since I left Northampton.]

Steve and Louise had prepared a room for us (although we had said we would sleep in Harry), which was very kind and welcome as it was a cold night. But electricity was provided so Harry didn’t freeze (schön!), and that evening they took us down to Morpeth for a super supper at an Italian restaurant – NOT a mistaika to maika! Back at the house on the hill we showed photos and indulged in reminiscing till around midnight.

Goodnight, then. ….

Saturday 22nd March: HE had full English breakfast, SHE had café-croissant. Then I took them all out for the day.

(Not the cat!) We drove to Alnwick where I got left in a car park for a few hours – M’sieur S can tell you what THEY did – then later we went back over the hills to this place:

where THEY had a drink and admired the views. We took the friends back to The Lee, going through Rothbury on the way:

We could see The Lee across the valley some time before we got there:

Then I had to drive through this shallow ford and up a very steep, bendy hill to get to the houses:

We said goodbye (Au revoir) to the friends straightaway and drove back to Wakefield, with several stops on the way, including a sandwich-stop for THEM at Leeming Bar. Es war ein schöner Tag! – Une journée magnifique.

Danke, Harry; I’ll fill in some details. At Alnwick we visited the Castle Gardens. As we went in we noticed the tree house, which has a restaurant inside, and thought we would have lunch there:

However, we were disappointed to find it was fully booked for the day!

An outstanding feature of the gardens is the cascade and fountains:

We walked up beside the pool and through the arch at the top. On the way down we stopped to admire the garden’s oldest tree:

In the end we had lunch at the ‘Pavillion’, and it was very nice, but lacked the atmosphere of the tree house. We tried to get a view of the castle, but couldn’t really get to a good spot because this section of the garden was closed till next week:

We made our way back to Harry after a visit to the gift shop:

and got a better view of the castle (used as Hogwarts in the Harry Potter films) from the road as we drove round the town:

To travel in Harry, the ladies sat at the table, with Steve in the passenger seat:

After leaving Steve & Louise at their home, there was a pleasant farewell to this area as we crossed the river (The Coquet) in the evening light:

Harry had a ‘day off’ on Sunday 23rd March, which was a very special day and deserves a diary entry all of its own. Watch this space.

Postcards to Lucy 4th-20th March 2014

Hey, Harry!

Ja?

Why don’t you send Lucy a postcard or two?

Lady Lucy? Why should I do that?

Well, she might be lonely – you know what it’s like.

But she never talks to me; what language should I use?

Well, she is French, but I guess she’ll cope with English. Just add a few comments to some recent photos.

Na, gut.

Hallo, Lucy. This is me parked outside Chrys and Jan’s at Potter’s Bar, just after THEY paid for me to have a complete handwash on the car park at Tesco’s in Welwyn. Don’t I look white?

While staying at Potters Bar, I took THEM to Baldock to visit Hilde, who had also invited Kathy to lunch. THEY gave me a fill up, too!

Monday 10th March: We moved on to Surbiton to stay with HIS brother and Sister-In-Law, though THEY sleep in (Niece) Carol’s flat, which is just across the corridor.

Next day, Brother Philip lent THEM his BRAND NEW car to go to Peckham to visit Vik, Scout and Rosie! He hadn’t even driven it himself except back from the dealer’s!

Many thanks to GPT for that, and a big plus to LV who added us both to the insurance with no fuss and a very modest fee. We had a lovely few hours with Vik, who, along with Scout and Rosie, enjoyed looking at photos of previous encounters:

The stay at Surbiton finished with a meal at the Café Rouge with Philip and Carol Junior:

Thursday 13th March: We moved down to Bransgore, near Christchurch. It was fine and warm when we arrived and THEY enjoyed a cup of tea and an Eccles Cake (you don’t know what that is, Lucy, eh?) in the sunshine:

That evening THEY went down to Mudeford to have Abendessen (tea / dinner / supper – evening meal; what you call it varies not only with how big a meal it is, but also where you are. Here in Yorkshire it’s always ‘tea’) with Martyn and Jasmine at the pub on the quay.

THEY’ve both been coughing too much since Huddersfield, and with sore throat and eyes as well HE got the bike off my back on Friday morning and went to see a doctor. HE came back with a prescription for antibiotics, and instructions to have steam inhalations first. It was a pity to be unwell because the weather was fine and I could have taken them somewhere nice if THEY’d felt like going out. THEY also changed the plans for next week so as not to get to Wakefield while still possibly infectious – baby, you know!

Saturday 15th March: This afternoon THEY went to see how the work was progressing at Martyn & Jasmine’s new house in Mudeford. …. It’s progressing, in spite of ongoing problems with planning permission. There was quite a nice sunset that evening – though you get better ones in Sonnac, occasionally.

Sunday 16th March: We moved north again and parked up at Poynton, but straight away went on to Stockport to have dinner (Cheshire!) with Daniel. Back at Poynton, the night was quiet till the geese started cackling!

The final choice, after debate, for the next two nights, was to visit Wharfedale and stay on the Club site near Grassington. That was a fairly easy move, and the location is beautiful. But the rain started overnight and this was the ‘view’ through my front window on Tuesday morning:

Not much better through the side:

But I took them down to Skipton to visit Malcolm and Barbara Jones. HE and Malcolm go back many years as fellow Esperanto speakers (and actors). That evening they all went to a concert by a really international chamber orchestra. I sat in the car park and people seemed very happy as they came out afterwards.

Wednesday 19th March:Much better weather today:

Some people in a nearby caravan had set up a bird feeding station, which had attracted a big male pheasant in his ‘come-and-get-me’ colours and his lady friend, not to mention a pigeon:

We went down into Grassington and paid for two hours parking. In the village HE was playing the Grumpy Old Man:

That is, until after visiting the nearby retail outlet:

THEY had lunch before leaving the car park – good views – then we shopped at Morrison’s in Skipton and set off for what should have been just over an hour’s drive to Sharlston – it took nearly two hours! An absolutely dreadful stop-start route round Bradford. Really hard work for HIM and me. Never again, we hope!

But we got there just in time for Carol to prepare a nice fish pie for TEA, while I entertained Shannon – or was it the other way round? Anyway here she is after breakfast this morning:

HARRY’S BACK! (ON THE ROAD)

What happened to February? Not a lot, really. The weather remained very variable with only occasional days suitable for eating outdoors and although the grass is growing, there was no chance to cut it as the garden is more like a marsh than a lawn; final (we hope) visits were paid to hip and nose consultants and Carol continued to feed the hens at the Maison Bleue. Late in the month Pam and Trevor arrived to start house hunting and we we able to offer them breakfast on their first morning and next day we enjoyed lunch at the Gite they are renting for the next few months. Then Nick and Carolyn returned after their three and a half month absence and we prepared a meal for their first evening after travelling – and handed over responsibility for the hens. Oh, and Carol fell off her bike! It didn’t seem too serious at first, but after a week of ribs getting worse rather than better we went to see the doctor. As expected, he diagnosed bruised or maybe even cracked ribs for which there is no treatment other than time. We hoped the discomfort wouldn’t affect travelling and subsequent activities too much. Here’s Harry:

Ja, hallo! I’ve been stood outside ‘Sunejo’ for a long time now, doing nothing except one trip to Carcassonne, and trying to set up a relationship with Lady Lucy, that new car, but she doesn’t say much, so I just watch traffic. However, things began to happen mid-month; I got taken to the big supermarket at Laroque D’Holmes and filled up with diesel. HE checked oil and tyres and topped up the screen wash; then on Thursday Feb 20th SHE made up the bed and HE re-organised my garage. That day was quite fine and I think THEY had lunch on the terrace. There was a bit of a sunset, but nothing special:

Not like this one from earlier in the month:

More STUFF was brought out on Friday morning, when the weather had turned grey and drizzly, with a north wind which was stinging and cold, and finally, at about 12.30, which is late even for THEM, we got on the road, leaving Sunejo in the care of Lady Lucy; – and Nick and Carolyn.

Why ‘Lady’ Lucy?

Because she’s posh and doesn’t talk to me – not like Sally, who was cheeky but fun.

Hmmm ….

There were no snow-capped Pyrenees in sight to wave to or photograph – it was probably actually snowing up there – and the first stop was the Motorhome place in Pamiers; when Carol pulled the bike cover out of the shed THEY found the mice had nibbled it – one tear just got worse even before we’d gone very far, so we made a little detour to get a new one. After that, and a lunch break at the first toll station, it was brm-brm to the ‘usual’ service area just south of Limoges, arriving about 8.30 and THEY had a pre-cooked meal of duck legs in orange sauce. We did stop once on the way and a robin was perched in the bushes, watching the car park:

Another late start on Saturday, and a long pause at J.37, not just for fuel, but for HER to buy some trainers, then onwards through the rain and the wind. No photos – the weather wasn’t helpful and THEY’ve photo’d most of the rivers and so on before. Finding the preferred route through Rouen without either going through the city centre, or following the long signed detour to the west, was a relief, so we parked at Bosc Mesnil services at about 7.45. not a favourite area, but it’s there in the right place.

Next morning THEY heard the shipping forecast; warnings of gales in all areas except Dover, Wight and Portland! Phew! We paused at Baie de Somme, as usual, and took the opportunity to charge the computer while checking e-mails. THEY let me get very short of fuel, but got to the supermarket near J. 31 just in time (not the same motorway as J. 37 near Limoges!) At Calais THEY had a quick lunch on the quayside and then we boarded the ferry. I was parked right at the front in the open air, which was good for a quick exit at Dover, but I got several showerings of salty water from the waves during the crossing. Could have done without that!

What is it about coffee these days? Even on the ferry that big firm with the high cost a coffee has taken over! I never know what to ask for, and none of it is worth the price. I asked for a small latte – it was huge; I got Carol an espresso – it was about a thimble-full! I should have settled for the Cognac on its own!

The choppiness of the crossing – the least smooth we’ve had for some time, but it wasn’t a problem – is best seen on this picture of the waves as we came in to Dover harbour:

After Dover we made good progress to the M25 and stopped at the services after the Dartford crossing.

We do like French food, but Steak and Ale Pie and Fish n Chips went down very well!

At least you two weren’t running on empty!

Nor were you!

Nearly ….. After that, we went on to the Caravan Club site at Welwyn Garden City, arriving just in time for the (theoretical) deadline of 8pm.

Monday 24th Feb: Water jobs in the morning before getting on the road and taking a wrong turning, so getting to the M1 by a cross-country route took longer than it should have, then the journey North was very slow, with long sections of road works and 50mph speed limits. But we got to Huddersfield in time for THEM to enjoy a meal with the family at their new home in Linthwaite. Later, we moved to the Manse in Golcar so that I could be parked round the back and get electricity from the garage.

The removal from Golgar to Linthwaite – across the valley – was ongoing. Most of the big furniture had already been moved, but there was a lot of packing and transporting still to do. For the next two days it seemed best that we could help by taking the Grandchildren, S & N, out for the day. Meals in Harry were a treat and on day 1 we visited Castle Hill:

An impressive site with lots of space and splendid views:

Any doubts about the efficacy of the treatment to my hip should have been dispelled when I dealt with these steps:

and that after driving Harry for most of four days without once needing to lift my right leg manually to get it to move from the gas to the brake (which I was doing before!). I even did some running around one day, chasing the children round the Chapel car park for a few minutes. So it is obviously greatly improved, but some days it feels ‘heavy’ and a bit sore, so it’s not perfect! And in any case, the consultant says I should still avoid long walks, which is a bit of a pity.

We called at the garden centre on the way back, where N showed promise, again, as a photographer; how’s this for a four year old? –

Not the fish! – the age of the child who took the photo!

Day 2 found us at Greenhead Park, a huge area with many attractions, of which the tower with its rope walk approach and slide off was the favourite:

On Thursday (27th) Carol, Chris and I (and Harry) had a complete change of scene and activity. Before leaving home we’d heard the sad news that my Cousin Norman had died, aged 92. Norman and Marjorie had been part of my life forever and were regular visitors to various homes, including Garth View. So I was pleased to be nearby at the time of the funeral, which was in Leeds. The ceremony was wonderfully presented by the family themselves, with moving tributes from Chris (Norman’s son) and Paul (Grandson) and Louise (Granddaughter) while Martin (Grandson) introduced and led the service. It was good to see the family again, together with David (Sparkes) and Dottie, and we enjoyed tea and cake at Dyneley House where Norman lived for the last six years.

The next days – right through to Sunday morning – were spent clearing and cleaning the Manse and ferrying everything to Linthwaite. Harry was very useful –

Ho! Danke schön.

Non – c’est nous! You are French again, you know.

Wirklich? Ich hatte vergessen ….

Very useful, carrying stuff from one house to the other, some of which was too big to go into Chris & Michelle’s little car.

That’s Harry outside the new home – the one with the fence. From the back of the house, which can be accessed down this ginnel:

[A bit of architectural history; these terraces were originally back to back houses. Built on a steep hill the back house, with no road access, comprised the lower ground floor and the back part of the ground floor; the front house, opening on to the road, had the front of the ground floor and the whole of the first floor. Most of them have now been combined into single houses, but nos. 726 and 732 are still separate homes, hence the arrow to 726 above the ginnel, seen on the photo.]

….. there’s a splendid view across the valley to Golgar, seen both from the house’s windows and the little garden, from where the ground drops steeply to the river and the canal:

The large, many-windowed building in the centre of the photo is Golgar Baptist Chapel, with the Manse hidden behind it:

Carol worked stoically on the cleaning (she’s come away with a nasty cough, but the ribs seem better!) and the job was finally completed (I think) at about midday on Sunday, when Harry and the little Jazz took the final items, including the vacuum cleaners, round (not ‘across’!) to Linthwaite, after the family had taken a last look through the Manse to say goodbye to it, quite a ‘wrench’ for all of them, but we wish them well and feel they’ll soon settle into the new home.

We unloaded those final items then left for a special Pub Lunch at the Bulls Head (further up the hill!)

After that we said goodbye on the carpark and followed ‘Snooper’s directions to join the M1 near Sheffield. Harry?

That was dreadful! Not so much the cross-country route to the motorway, but the weather, the traffic and the road works from then on. We had plenty of time – in theory – to get to Welwyn, but once again we arrived on the last minute.

Next morning – here’s a surprise – we were up at 6.30 and road ready, without breakfast, but having done water jobs, soon after 8.30. The reason was that we both had appointments at Specsavers in Welwyn with Carol first at 9. (We’ve been told that even if we have to pay everything, specs are still less expensive in the UK than in France.) We both need new ones and we expect them to be ready on our next return from Yorkshire in a few weeks’ time.

After that, we had time on our hands and looked for a full English breakfast. First we tried Tesco’s but we were disappointed as the café was one of those pretentious coffee places where the choice bewilders me and none of it is what I want. But we did some shopping and meanwhile Harry got a complete hand wash (for £20!) and he now looks brighter and whiter than since he joined us in 2010!

Ja! Wunderschön! Merveilleux! Brilbrile!

Coo – Esperanto as well! He must be happy. We went on to South Mimms where we did get that breakfast. Yummies!

Was ist denn dass? What sort of language is that?

Me-talk. We still had time to spare, so we sat over coffee (in Harry) and did a puzzle. Then we came on to Chrys and Jan’s in Potters Bar. We had a lovely roast chicken dinner and today, apart from Carol getting her hair cut, we’ve just ‘chilled out’.

Here are some pictures to finish:

N looks out on the view after scrambled egg in Harry at the foot of Castle Hill:

Grandad doing what Grandads do:

And two key players in the narrative; Carol and Harry:

‘Key player’? Schlüsselspieler? Clé joueur? I don’t get it ……

YEAR 2 BEGINS AT SUNEJO; we get a new car, our first visitor returns and new ones arrive.

So we’ve seen the year round!

For those who might be interested, and haven’t found them already, I’ve put an album of representative pictures on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006348009110 – don’t know whether that works; someone can try it and tell us. (OK! I tried and it does.)

The second year began as did the first – with a visit from (Cousin) Mark, by motorbike:

He had better weather than last year and we were free to entertain (no removal men!) so we fitted in a trip to Andorra where a mountain biking event was taking place below the cable car;

and one to Puivert Castle:

Though a heavy shower opened up just before Mark and Carol got back to the car where I was waiting for them – warm and dry!

Ah, car; yes. We set about finding a replacement for Sally as soon as we got back from England. We found this Citroën C3 in ‘Lucifer Red’, and she’s a former driving school car, which appealed in a quirky sort of way:

I said that with that colour description, it was as well the number plate was 777, not 666! We toyed with calling her ‘Cerise’, but on the way home Carol suggested ‘Lucy’ and so she is. She’s not as excitable as Sally, who used to squawk if you set off with your belt not fastened, even for a short manoeuvre on a car-park. Lucy just jingles politely; and she’s very good at drawing attention to open doors, or key left in the ignition – she even tells us how many kms we can go before we have to fill up.

We have less good news of Harry; the place we called at in Pamiers haven’t got us a new skylight yet and we’re worried about wet weather approaching. We also didn’t dare use him for excursions with the next visitors, which was a bit disappointing.

The day after Mark left we welcomed Trevor and Pam – we stayed with Trevor for three weeks last year while Harry was having that major repair, then in January we went to their wedding. Even without Harry, we enjoyed the ‘usual’ excursions, with trips to Mirepoix on Market Day:

The Church in the Rock at Vals:

A look at the castles of Montségur and Roquefixade:

Carcassonne, on a drizzly day, when Harry would have been really useful (for eating in):

A picnic by the Aude:

followed by a ride on the Train Rouge:

and a drive up – and down Galamus Gorge:

followed by an eve-of-birthday dinner for Pam at Mike’s (Café du Fleuve in Quillan) – Pam & Trevor’s invitation, thank you!

More eating and another willing waiter (to take the photo) next day during Pam’s birthday trip to Andorra; this is at our now ‘usual’ eat-as-much-as-you-like buffet restaurant:

We were a bit disappointed that the cable cars weren’t running – possibly due to insufficient custom between seasons – but since T & P were visiting by car they made the most of the shopping opportunities, contributing adequately to the Principality’s economy. As for photography, cows and horses beside, or even on, the road seemed to be the main ‘focus’ of attention:

During stay-at-home days, Pam & Trevor enjoyed the pool, and were the first of our visitors to do so. Trevor even had a pre-breakfast dip a couple of times, which I haven’t done yet! No photos of any of that, but there’s a nice stay-at-home one to close with: (Peace, Pedants! John Humphreys says prepositions at the end of sentences don’t matter; who am I to argue?!)

We leave Sally in Lincoln and head for home, via Potters Bar, Surbiton and Rouen.

Here are the two missing photos from the last entry. First, Carol and Rachel in the garden with Baby and the jealous cat:Then Mother and Baby:So, wo ist meine Freundin?
Ah, where’s your little friend, yes ….. First things first – lets write about you. We got on the road in good time on Friday morning, 23rd, and made good progress to Hitchin, only to discover within minutes that the replacement skylight they had for us was the WRONG ONE! Much too big. Nothing for it but to ask them to check and strengthen the temporary repair and hope to get home with that. We did some shopping and went on to Welwyn.

So, wo ist die Sally?

I’m coming to that! It rained quite a lot overnight Friday- Saturday, and was still drizzling a bit when we got up early and hooked up the vehicles. Carol put her anorak on and was stung on the neck by a wasp lurking inside the hood! This is bad news – she’s allergic to wasp stings! I treated her with anthisan, solpadeine and piriteze, so that by the time we got to where we were going, near Lincoln, she was more or less blotto! Still, the nice lady made us a coffee and the rain had stopped. There was a new motorhome for Sally to travel with and, believe it or not, a dog called Harry! A very friendly dog who wanted us to play ball with him. The ball was a squeaky ball, and the lady explained that the dog was blind!

But to serious business; husband being away a male friend had been drafted in to check the car out. He and the lady took Sally for a run. We played ball with Harry – not you!

I don’t play ball.

No, you don’t, do you? Man, lady and Car returned. Lady always wanted a red car! Deal done. Money handed over in brown envelope. Stephen, Carol and Harry, the Motorhome, left. Sally stayed with the Lady and Harry, the blind dog.

So, die Sally ist nicht mehr bei uns?

You catch on quick, Harry! No, she’s not with us anymore.

That’s a bit sad!

It’s a lot sad, but there we are.

We stopped for lunch in a layby, and drove off without securing the thermos ….. it rolled and smashed!

It was a long day. Bad weather, the wasp, the flask, and much more driving than I had realised. Not to mention the other matter. We were very grateful for a nice meal and a bed in Potters Bar.

Next day was a short run round the M25 to Surbiton, where family gathered for ‘apéro’ at Porton Court and then for dinner at Café Rouge:A good time – and a good meal – was had by all, then there was more drinking, photos and music back at Porton Court.

A DAY ON THE RIVER : With his birthday coming up later in the week, Philip and Christine had decided to invite us and other friends, Fiona, Max and Dominic for a day out on the Thames, followed by dinner (our invitation) at Harts, the riverside pub. With excellent weather throughout, this day was a delight, and choosing just a few photos is very difficult. I shall share many others on SkyDrive, unless someone suggests a better hosting site.

Taken by one of the lock keepers, this photo shows the whole party:

I have to confess that previously I didn’t know there were locks on this section of the Thames, but we went through three, both up and down. Sometimes we were first in:

At other times there was congestion:

We picnicked regally with contributions from everyone, and a (more than) ample supply of wines and cider!Throughout the day, our mascot, Max’s (nameless) parrot, drew amused / admiring glances from other boats and folk on the banks:As we got near Surbiton on the return leg, a birthday cake was produced from somewhere, and Philip did the biz with the knife while we sang Hippo Birdie for him. (Actually, after the wine and cider, I’m not sure what we sang!)

At Harts, the boatyard with the pub, some of us disembarked and others went back to the point of hire to return the boat and transfer all the stuff to the cars. Once reassembled the party enjoyed a meal overlooking the river:

And although Fiona, Max and Judi left us after that, the rest repaired to Porton Court for some more chat and music – maybe a nightcap, too. What a great day! Thank you.

Next morning, there was a mist over the river:

and even a hint of fog, but it soon cleared and we made good progress to Dover. Another smooth crossing, and so to visit Daniel (French colleague and friend, not Carol’s son) at Ymare, near Rouen. We enjoyed a meal of salade de tomates – homegrown by Daniel’s Mother, who was there with him, nursing a broken wrist – and roast chicken. We showed photos of grandchildren and Sunejo and retired to Harry for the night, parked on Daniel’s drive.

The rest of the journey home was uneventful. We know the route now and the weather was fine, getting steadily hotter as we came south. We spent the second night parked in the same space at Porte de Corrèze as on the way north almost a month ago. We ate paupiette de saumon (stuffed salmon fillets) provided by Carrefour supermarket and fresh blackberries picked from the hedgrow beside Harry!

As in England, late summer is not the most attractive of seasons; autumn has yet to enliven the tired green of the trees,

and harvested fields are dull brown where once they were golden; maize fields are brown-topped, and heavy-headed sunflowers droop in the heat, as if waiting for the chop which can’t be long in coming now.

We stopped at a motorhome dealer’s in Pamiers and ordered a replacement skylight for Harry, and shopped in Mirepoix. And so to Sunejo, nicely cared for by Nick & Carolyn for almost a whole month, and with hedge trimmed and grass cut by Ian, whom we had employed to attend to such things.

1,145 kms (716miles) from Surbiton and a round trip of 4,191kms (2,619miles). Plus additional miles in Sally. We’re sorry to have parted from our cheeky little friend, but plans are in hand for a replacement – a sort of big sister, but more of that next time. Thanks again for hospitality and friendship; we’ve had a great month. And thanks for reading all about it – if you have!

Golcar to Sharlston, with complications!

Let’s begin this post with thanks to Chris & Michelle for their hospitality last week. We remember the regal roast beef, the stunning stir-fry, the licious chicken pie, the succulent salmon and the chumptious chilli. Then, of course there was the brilliant breakfast on Saturday morning.

We left the family after lunch at the Garden Centre on Saturday afternoon. Then – Harry?

Ja?

What happened next?

We went to Wakefield.

He does not want to tell you, because he’s being a nuisance again. He keeps letting you down and costing money. I don’t do that; je sius très sage, moi.

Yes, you are, very good.

So you’re selling the wrong one!?

We’d love to keep you both, but we have explained why we think we can’t.

I will tell the story; we set off from Golgar with Harry pulling me –

Dass war schwer – hard work up that hill!

Then we joined the motorway and went over to Yorkshire. Suddenly – bang! Big Harry had blown his top!

Well, our first thought was that the main skylight had blown off. We pulled onto the hard shoulder and and called the highways agency. Fortunately there had been no sign of damage to other vehicles or accident caused by swerving, so the nice man on the phone said he’d treat it as debris on the carriageway and a crew would come along and try to retrieve the skylight if possible. The fact that no other driver had reacted to the incident should have been a clue as to what had really happened, but for now we waited till the patrol vehicle turned up and said they hadn’t seen it.

We re-joined the carriageway, with the internal blind drawn across the space – that was silly! – then another bang, knocking and the blind was shredded! But the skylight was still on the roof – it hadn’t blown off, it had ‘flipped’. Damaged beyond repair, it was retrievable from inside, with only a little bit still attached, which quickly gave way.

Now the main thing was to get to Oakleigh Close and see what could be done before the rain set in. Rachel and Sean weren’t there, but we let ourselves in as planned and found a ladder in the garage. It was starting to rain.

Now, I’m a bit of a wimp where ladders are concerned, and kneeling on Harry’s roof in a heavy shower trying to secure the remnant of the skylight and a bin bag with tape that wouldn’t stick to the wet surface. I did both as much and as little as I could, then tried to get down ….. well, I did get down, but not without some difficulty.

Rachel, Sean and Shannon arrived as the rain eased off; equipped with towels to dry the roof and some stronger bags, Carol went up the ladder (she’s tougher than I am – and doesn’t have a dodgy hip) and did a more thorough job on fixing the skylight.

Sean took a picture from his office window:

Not quite the easy transfer from Golgar to Sharlston we had anticipated

Sunday morning and Shannon joined us for breakfast:

Later on, a lively service at Destiny Church was to have been followed by a ‘family sports day’ and picnic. Everyone had set up their picnic furniture in the nearby park and was watching the games, when we were treated to another of these April showers (?) and a mass retreat took us back into the church building (a converted theatre) for the picnic. I thought it was time to take a picture of the proud parents instead of The Baby:

But that didn’t last!

STEPHEN GETS LEAVE OF ABSENCE AND TAKES HARRY AWAY ….

We got back from England to find the big pear tree in full bloom and the grass knee-high and gone to seed. The blossom didn’t last because the wind got up almost at once and blew it all off and the rain made us wait several days before tackling the grass.

The challenge was too great and the little ‘tracteur’ gave up before the job was done ….

Looks like you’re giving up, too!

Hey, Harry, who asked you? I didn’t give up – I coaxed little Terrence back to life!

Terrence?

Got a better name for him?

And that’s not “Get me a drink”; it’s TOAD doing a ‘POOP-POOP’!

A disappointment: the swimming pool – behind me in the picture – has so far been unuseable, and we don’t know what to do about it. It’s a long story and we don’t want to go on about it, but the water remains green in spite of several treatments and we can’t get the ph right. It also needs cleaning and maybe the liner is ‘past it’.

A delight: Sunday May 5th – for the first time, we ate all three meals out of doors.

An amusement: one (or more) of ‘our’ great tits has taken to perching on Harry’s exterior mirror and then gets very …… excited about his own reflections in the window and the mirror. So far we’ve been unable to photograph this as he always sees us approaching –

and you should see the mess he makes! You could photograph that.

Hmmm ….. maybe not. More bird life – swallows have arrived and wheel and swoop at varying heights over the field which surrounds the house. The crop in the field is now recognisable as barley and in spite of being waterlogged for some of the time it has survived the winter and looks promising.

Now, ‘after much debate internal’ – and some with Carol – I eventually and belatedly decided to enrol for the French Esperanto Congress, which has just taken place in Bordeaux. Go on, Harry …..

Ja – Mittwoch den achten –

English!

Oops! Wednesday 8th, about midday HE and I left HER and Sally to look after each other and Sunejo and set off for this combination of new experiences. (Just the two of us and a French Congress) First event was that HE realised that although HE had taken quite a bit of food, which HE didn’t need, HE’d forgotten the chicken leg for his lunch, which he did need. We had to stop at Mirepoix and buy a sandwich.

We made good progress then for the rest of the 350 kms and easily found the ‘kongresejo’, which was very close to the motorway in Antigues-Près-Bordeaux. As we approached the main building a lady on the steps gestured to us to go left and all the way round the building. HE’d been told in advance that not only was there parking available but that we could stay there during the Congress (but without electricity), so the gesture seemed to make sense, and anyway we could see at least one other motorhome already parked up (there were others). The way round the building was narrow, but OK, but then we saw the final approach to the parking area was down a steep tarmac ramp and there was probably no way I could do it without grounding at the back as the front levelled off. Backing off didn’t seem to be an option, though, so we carefully went down the ramp; a nasty scraping noise began as the front wheels got to level ground and continued for several seconds! Once we’d parked HE had a look at the back, but couldn’t see any obvious damage; there was a fresh white stripe on the tarmac, though, about 65cms long. Any thought of going to look for a camp site was abandoned; there we were and there we were stopping. How we would get off again was another matter …

That evening was the Congress’s formal dinner. I was lucky in where I chose to sit; French ‘Esperantists’ have a reputation for speaking French among themselves (that’s called ‘krokodili’) but I found a table where all five of my fellow diners were keen to use Esperanto and pleased to have a ‘foreigner’ to provide a reason to do so. (Though my Congress badge said ‘Francio’ – but I soon put that right!)

Two companions of the round table – a very nice couple, and quite a nice seafoody starter, too.

I am, of course, pouring wine for one of the nice people – that’s not MY glass, you understand ……

Nothing much of really general interest to report from Thursday, except that it rained most of the day, and maybe that’s not interesting, either.

But fortunately Friday was fine. Fortunately because I had booked an excursion to see Bordeaux by panoramic bus. I didn’t realise that meant open-sided! I’d have worn an extra garment if I’d known. But it was a good trip, with a well-delivered commentary in clear Esperanto from a man with good microphone technique.

Here are a few pictures: An impressive square with statue / fountain.

One of Bordeaux’ surviving gates from when it was a walled city.

Fascinating lamps on the Stone Bridge.

During the dinner on Wednesday evening one of the organisers had come round asking for contributions to the final concert on Friday evening. I said ‘I’ll sing if you want – and play the guitar’. She said ‘You’ve got a guitar?’ – ‘Yes’ – ‘Really?’ -‘Yes, really’ – ‘Here at the Congress?’ – ‘Yes’ – ‘A real guitar?’ – ‘A real guitar’. And I added ‘Don’t worry; I have some experience’. She still didn’t actually believe in this guitar, but took a risk and said I could do three songs.

Wow! I don’t think anyone there (about 250 people) had ever seen or heard me before, and they loved it! The Esperanto versions of ‘If I Had a Hammer’, The Whistling Gipsy’ and ‘Down By The Riverside’ were as well received as ever by an audience who just didn’t know what to expect! There’s no photo (that I’ve seen) of that event, so here’s one taken on a previous occasion:

Saturday morning was COLD in Harry –

That was your fault for going to bed with the skylight open! So anyway, HE tried to use the diesel heater, but could get it to run; he tried to get some hot water to wash and shave with, but that wouldn’t work; he tried to fill the kettle from the tap, THAT didn’t work! Finally he had a look at the control panel, and worked out that the leisure battery was flat. Sorry, M’sieur, (as our little friend calls you), but THREE NIGHTS using the water, the fridge, the heaters and the lights with no movement during the day and no hook-up is TOO MUCH.

OK – I get it. Having brought some hard boiled eggs, as well as raw ones, from home, I thought I’d have a Dutch or German style breakfast, with egg and cheese. So I made coffee (with mineral water from a bottle) and got one of the eggs out of the fridge. Only after tapping it on my plate did I realise it was one of the UNCOOKED ones! Still, I hadn’t made a total mess of it, and I was able to change the plan and scramble it.

So then we had to get off that parking area. HE went up to the reception of the centre and came back with a very nice young lady who said ‘drive round on the grass’. It looked a bit so-so, but she said it was firm enough and the groundsman wouldn’t mind …. We drove off the tarmac onto the grass, well, more buttercups and daisies, really, then tried to turn up the hill towards the driveway above the ramp. Skid, skid skid. ‘Reverse back to the level’ said the nice lady and try between these two trees’. We reversed. We tried between those two trees. Skid, skid, skid. ‘Back off again’ said the nice lady, ‘and stay on the level to the corner, then come up to that concrete stand where the bench is then back to the driveway.’ We did that! And it worked; a bit of manoeuvering to get between two posts onto the tarmac and then to face the right way and we were FREE! We said goodbye to the nice lady and went to buy some milk ……

We stopped at Pamiers for fuel and Mirepoix for a bit of shopping and just after 5pm, we pulled into Sunejo, where Carol was beautifying the terrace with tubs and hanging baskets and Sally was sleeping under her shelter.

Mais non! I was not sleeping, just standing by till I was needed again.

That’s what I do most of the time.

Alors, voilà. I’m very wide awake, tu sais ….

Travels with Harry. (7) 10th August 2010

How we became a one-van couple (or will soon, we hope), and how Carol earned a Certificate.

First bit of news: THE BOX (The Toyota Camper) is SOLD – or, at least, sale agreed and deposit paid. A lady from Kirkby Thore (just over the A66) who had enquired some time ago, got in touch again and came to see it. She wanted her local mechanic to look at it (OK) and negotiated the price a bit, but seems very pleased with the prospect; I’ve agreed to have one job done on the power steering which is in hand today and all should be well for hand over when she returns from a visit to Poland on August 20th. So now we start looking for the little car which we intend to tow behind Harry; maybe a C1 or Peugeot 107 (same car, we’re told). Then there’ll be two driving school cars to sell and we’re set!

Second bit of news: We went to York again on Saturday evening – first chance to try using Satnav. We wouldn’t do as we were told because instructions from the little caravan site we were heading for were different and specifically said not to use Satnav! But she was very good and kept replanning the route till they got it together.

Reason for the trip? The Caravan Club were running a motorhome driving and manoeuvring course at the Agricultural College and Carol had agreed to enrol. (OK – I was driving when we brushed against Mondeo Man, so why didn’t I do it? Yeah, yeah, bin said. Chuck in the fact that I’ve crashed two driving school cars in the last 15 years while she’s been accident-free! Rub it in, why not?)

Anyway, I think she quite enjoyed the day! There was only one other student, a lady whose husband, also Stephen, puts his big motorbike inside the motorhome’s garage – and we thought ours was big! However, she didn’t want to show off by driving home afterwards, so I haven’t seen the results! Except this:

	stephenkeith0804 on A New Arrival at 141!
	C Thompson on A New Arrival at 141!
	carolthompson73 on A New Arrival at 141!
	uncleclifford on A New Arrival at 141!
	stephenkeith0804 on A New Arrival at 141!

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