TravelStream™ news feed for member born2bongo on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/born2bongo en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Mon, 16 Jun 2008 03:10:06 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212895200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212895200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212895200/tpod.html Mon, 16 Jun 2008 03:10:06 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Bournemouth, England, United Kingdom

The weather on our last day was predictably lovely. The wind had died down and the sun was warmer than at any time since we left the Med. We collected our bread and croissants from reception and enjoyed what will be our last breakfast together for a while (Ralph isn't very good at getting up when we are at home).

Our first port of call was back at the Abbey in Le Bec Hellouin because I wanted to get some pottery. When we got there it was closed, and the sign on the door said it was open from 11.00 to 11.45am on Saturday mornings, so I had got lucky two weeks earlier! We had other things we wanted to do so I decided to leave it for another time and we headed towards Pont Audemer.

These last hours of our holiday are always devoted to filling the Bongo with goodies. We bring home a certain amount of booze, but more important to us is the food. Sadly, there's no point bringing the lovely bread back as it won't keep, but we always buy huge amounts of tomatoes, cheese, pate and raw and cooked meats.

Passing through the village of Montfort we spotted some interesting shops, and easily found a parking space. Like everywhere in France, in this tiny little village there are 5 butchers, and each one has something different to offer. You see cuts of meat that are no longer available at home, because very few butchers survive. You also see things that are rare or completely unavailable at home, in almost every shop. Rabbit and hare, mutton, horse, tripe and all kinds of game birds. As a horse owner I have no qualms about eating horseflesh as long as it isn't someone I know!

In the greengrocer we joined a long queue of locals, but it was an enjoyable experience. The shop was full of gorgeous things, and everything was displayed beautifully. As things were sold, the shopkeepers would disappear out the back and return with new stock to rebuild the display. Everybody was feeling and sniffing the produce, and clearly knew how to choose the best. There wasn't just lettuce, but a choice of at least 5 different kinds. The same with other fruit and vegetables. And not a trace of plastic anywhere. Heaven.

And finally, when your knuckles are dragging on the ground with the weight of everything you bought, the bill is noticeably smaller than Tescos.

There was also a shop selling 'Products of the Land'. This amounted mainly to wine and Calvados, but also included honey, jam, and various pickles. We got some local cider and honey, then set out for Pont Audemer. Here we raided one of several cheese shops and came away with a selection, as well as butter and creme fraiche.

We had a quick coffee and then set out for Honfleur. I love this place and was looking forward to seeing it again, but as we got going we realised we wouldn't have enough time, especially if we wanted to eat. We definitely wanted one last French lunch so we tried to find it in Le Havre.

Not knowing the town very well, we parked in the first available place and walked to a nearby brasserie. On closer inspection it looked rougher than we had first thought. It was full of sinister looking heavies, all in leather jackets despite the heat of the afternoon. My appetite faded instantly and ships food started looking more attractive.

Not to be deterred, Ralph set out down some back streets, heading to what he hoped was the centre of town. We very quickly passed the prison, and the area around it looked as rough as the place itself, but one block further on we found a nice square and another brasserie. It was definitely the kind of place you would expect from a poorer area, but it wasn't rough and we decided to give it a go. We had a very nice meal. Ralph had steak and chips and I had a chicken supreme. It was very cheap compared to others we had, but still properly cooked and not out of a packet or a tin tray. I don't want to come home!

And that was it. Back to the Bongo and onto the ferry. The loading went much better on the French side than the English side, and we were able to enjoy the last of the sun on deck in the port. Once we moved off though, the sea breeze drove us below deck. We upgraded to the sleeper seats, which open flat like a bed, because Ralph was tired after all the driving. I didn't think I would sleep but I managed an hour or so, and even sitting up they were very comfortable. We paid £10 for the upgrade - well worth it. Unfortunately after about an hour, someone took a seat a few rows back with a couple of young kids. The parents made them whisper, but this was just as distracting as if they were talking. It didn't seem to bother Ralph and eventually I went for a stroll around the boat.

I went back later and read for a while, but then got restless and headed for the shop. Soon after Ralph joined me, and then we went for a coffee. Returning to our seats we found another place well away from the kids, so we moved to them. Ralph went back to sleep, but - unbelievably - an episode of The Royle Family kicked off behind me. A bloke with a voice just like Dave's started an endless mindless conversation. "I can't remember where I put the diabetic pills, can you?". "I thought they were in my bag. I'm sure you put them in my bag. Shall I look in my bag and see if you put them there?" Twittered his wife. "No, I don't remember putting them in your bag. Why would I want to go in your bag? You can look in your bag and see if you put them there, if you want."

And so it went on. Very loud. Very annoying. And very inane. Kids I can understand, but they were old enough to know better and even glaring at them didn't bring about any moderation in tone. Hell is definitely other people.

We got in at 10-ish and unloaded quickly. We had an easy journey home, and the nap on the boat paid off. When we got in we swept the pile of mail into a corner, unloaded the essentials and settled in. It's never easy to go straight to bed after a long trip, but it didn't matter that we didn't turn in until 2am- we still had another day to recover from our holiday!
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Le Bec Hellouin, Normandy, France

It was a sunny morning, but definitely cooler than it should be for June. I caught my bread man and we timed it just right to have croissants with our coffee. After a shower and the washing up we packed the van for departure but decided to walk into the town and get a few provisions before we left. We had another coffee in the main square and started looking longingly in estate agents again. It's the sense of community that makes these places so attractive, and the people are so friendly and helpful. England was looming ever closer and it wasn't looking that attractive!

I managed to get my 'Fourgon special' magazine in the newsagents - there are loads more van conversions than you might imagine, but the French seem committed to having the bed permanently in place, which seems like a waste of space to us.

We missed the caretaker but left the money for our pitch at reception, having completed a form left for that purpose. We didn't have electricity and worked out that it was about €9.60

We felt we had made good progress the day before and had the luxury of time, so we abandoned the motorways and chose a few minor roads to cut across country and check out a few different places. We headed north from Vatan and made for the River Cher, turning West and following it to Selles sur Cher. I was convinced I had been there before but when I got there I didn't recognise it at all! If there was time I would have followed the river till I found the place I was thinking of, but Selles was still an attractive place, so give it a look if you get the chance.

We found a nice restaurant in the centre of the town, the Lion d'Or, and enjoyed a 3 course meal for less than the previous days lunch - another bargain. It was too cold to sit out, but all the French love their fags and they can't smoke inside any more either, so they froze outside while we had the place almost to ourselves!

From there we headed up to Blois, but didn't stop, then on to Chateaudun and Chartres. We started to get evening traffic and our progress slowed, but we made it through to Dreux and Evreux, and from there it was just a short hop to Brionne, and on to Le Bec Hellouin.

We stayed there 3 years ago with fellow Bongonauts. The site is run by an elderly couple and they are very welcoming. They shake your hand each time they meet you - and I mean several times a day, not just each year you go there. The lady is also a bit of a control freak. You have to follow her on her electric bike and park exactly where she says, and at the precise angle she thinks will be best for you! She means well, I think.

Our friends connected to electricity but we decided not to have any. This was despite Ralph having only just finished fitting out the Bongo to be able to connect. During the evening the lads got talking and decided Ralph could connect up to the other Bongo and get electricity that way. He did it because he could, not because he needed to! Next day we had some very stern looks from the Camp Commandant, who had seen the cable, and I made Ralph pay up the extra for electric. Since that time we have always referred to this place as 'the camp site where Ralph nicked the electricity'.

I think Ralph had a certain amount of apprehension as we neared Le Bec Hellouin. Anyway, he suggested we check out the camping municipal in the next town, a mile away. This was down by the river and the wind was howling off it, so that was off-putting for a start. Almost all the pitches were static though, and the camper van places were an afterthought on the far side of a field from the facilities. Add to that the gypsy camp which was provided next door to this site, our concerns for our technology sent us straight back to Le Bec Hellouin.

The site was one of the busiest we have been on all holiday, and I think it deserves to be. It was under €10 and we didn't have electricity. No, honestly, we didn't have it this time. It was as clean and tidy as we remembered it, and there was plenty of hot water in the roomy facilities. The hedges round the field gave welcome shelter from the cold wind, and we were able to order bread and croissants for the following day.

I would love to go back and spend a week there. There is a lot to keep you occupied - the Abbey, a couple of chateaux, Monets garden at Giverney, Rouen and even Paris if you can face the drivers. Good flat cycling country too, and the river has kayaking, birdwatching and probably fishing for those that want it.
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Vatan, Centre, France

We had a good night's sleep and awoke to a cool breeze and an overcast day. We stopped just up the road at Pamiers, to fill our tank before the big slog north. Today was the day for doing the toll roads, to get as far as possible with the least time travelling.

We travelled towards Toulouse and met our first ticket machine about halfway there. Just before Toulouse the paying part ended and we paid our first toll. We stayed on the same road, and found little problem in avoiding Toulouse, for once. On other occasions, we've hit Toulouse before we could find this bit of road, and have always found ourselves trapped in a confusing road system. The signs only referred to local places, suburbs too small to feature on our map. As far as I can tell Toulousians have never heard of Foix, Cahors or even Paris.

On the other side of Toulouse, we stayed on the motorway and made for Cahors. We arrived just in time for lunch and spotted an attractive looking restaurant beside the river. We thought parking would be a challenge but we crossed a nearby bridge, taking us over the river and away from the town, and found a place beside the river, almost opposite the restaurant. It took about 5 minutes to walk back, and there were some free tables, so we settled in.

Absolutely divine food. We had 2 courses from the menu of the day, a carafe of water and a carafe of rose, followed by coffee and it cost about £25. I had a provencal stuffed chicken breast with hash brown potatoes, though to call them that does no justice to them. They were light, fluffy, delicate and moist, and perfectly cooked. For pudding I had a lemon cheesecake, but again, the name does not reflect the lightness of the dish. You couldn't wish for anything less like Sarah Lee. It was the kind of food that costs a fortune in London and just doesn't exist in Bournemouth.

While we were eating, we noticed a small shuttle bus going backwards and forwards. It advertised itself as free for people from the park and ride going into town. When we returned to the van we saw a sign for the park and ride carpark. It too was free. So, if you don't clog up Cahors with your car they will happily give you free parking and free transport in, because they get the benefit of your custom. Could someone explain that simple concept to UK councillors, please? And while you are at it, remind them that they are public servants, and not our masters.

After lunch we filled up the Bongo (diesel, bread and wine), and hit the road again. Before they opened the new bit of motorway Ralph hated this part of the drive. The road from Cahors to Brive was bendy, treacherous and exhausting. The toll on this part is worth every penny. We paid a toll 3 times that day and the total was about €18, which we think is money well spent. We've never really done the maths but think we spend less fuel in queues and at lights, so it's not as dear as it seems.

Motorway driving can be boring, so I stuck my nose in the camper van magazine I bought in Collioure. I found out that there are a number of French van conversion campers. They call them fourgons, and they are mainly long wheelbase Peugeot Boxers or Fiat Ducatos. I also discovered that this particular magazine had brought out a special supplement with 'all the fourgons - everything you need to know'. I decided to hunt it down before we got home.

It was a long plod after that, and from about 5pm I started looking for likely camp sites. Vatan was an obvious choice. The motorway ran straight towards it and veered to the east just before it got there. The slip road carried straight on, into the town. The Michelin map had the black triangle we depend on in France, so we came off the main road and immediately saw the sign for Camping Municipal. We followed it into the centre of the town and just past the crossroads we saw a sign pointing to the left. Following this took us out of the town almost immediately and we realised we had gone wrong. We turned round and drove slowly back the way we came. Looking up one of the roads that joined our road I finally saw the sign, about 100 yards back from the junction - you've got to have your wits about you sometimes!

The reception was shut but, following normal practice, we left the Bongo at the entrance and went on foot to inspect the site. We met a Dutch couple who were very enthusiastic about the place and told us where the showers and available pitches were. It's a really nice site. The toilet block is clean and the water is warm. There is a lake beside the camp site and some interesting bird life for all the twitchers among you. The pitches are very tidy, with thick green grass and dense beech hedges dividing each one. We picked our spot with a glimpse of the lake but complete privacy from all the other campers, and managed to get a few rays of sun before it set.

I found out there is a bread delivery each morning so made a mental note to be up and about by 8am (I normally am anyway). After the long journey we are turning in early for the final part of the trip tomorrow.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212624420/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212624420/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212624420/tpod.html Sat, 14 Jun 2008 04:03:22 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Foix, France

It was a beautiful morning. The wind was still blowing strongly but the sky was deep clear blue and Banyuls was looking exactly as we always remember it. We decided to spend an hour in Collioure before making the slow journey north. On our way, we saw the sign for the Aire du Camping Car at Port-Vendres. We've checked this out before, but couldn't remember what it was like, so we went for a reminder.

It's tucked away in a shady spot and as long as you have enough onboard facilities, it's a good place. It was full of French, Dutch and German vans this morning. There is a parking meter there, so it's not entirely free, and we didn't check the cost.

A few years ago we were in Port Vendres and found a huge fish warehouse on the other side of the bay. The locals were busy buying fish, and sampling some prepared produce over a glass of wine. If you're a fish fan it's got to be done. Of equal interest, though, was the huge car park beside it. There were a couple of French vans, clearly camping for free. If you don't mind the smell of fish, check it out

As we left the Aire, Ralph lost the plot and headed for Port Vendres instead of Collioure. We had breakfast at a cafe/boulangerie called Le Pain du Jour. It was the best yet. We ordered coffee and croissants but also got a glass of water and a scrummy little choux pastry with our coffee. The croissants were delicious and there was a steady stream of locals buying bread from the counter. We joined them before we left, and the bread was so good we'd eaten half of it before we got back to the van. Port Vendres is a mix of fishing port, marina and civil port. There are many old buildings, colourful boats and fishing nets - it's a real taste of the Med.

We were in this part of the world in September 2001. On the evening of September 11th, Ralph had gone for a shower in the camping at Banyuls and met a highly excited Frenchman saying something about planes, terrorists and buildings. We finally decided there must have been a plane crash, and carried on with our evening. Next morning, in Collioure, we looked for a newspaper but didn't find one in any language. We got on with the day and forgot about it.

The following morning, there was a big liner in Port Vendres, and Collioure - which is a haven for artists - was heaving with culture-vulture Americans. We sat next to a group of them at lunch and listened in on the conversation. They were talking about the things they had seen, or family and work matters, just like any normal holiday. No planes. No buildings. No terrorists.

It wasn't until we drove onto the ferry the following Saturday, that I saw the newspapers and finally realised what had happened. I can only assume the Americans had reached a common agreement not to dwell on events they couldn't change, and make the best of their holiday regardless.

Back to the present. After Port-Vendres, we arrived in Collioure. It was market day and parking was a challenge, but we know our way around and found a place up the hill from the town. We followed the storm drain down the hill and straight into the market square. It's a mixture of tourist trap goodies and fresh local produce and the atmosphere is great. There was a jazz band playing by the bridge and some of the tourists were dancing to it. Meanwhile, the French marines were providing entertainment for other tourists. They have a base in the town and we've often laid on the beach of taken a lazy lunch in a seafront restaurant, watching them sweat it out in canoes and ribs in the bay. The town was sheltered from the wind and we were finally getting the weather we wanted. And it was time to go home!

We stayed for a couple of hours, strolling the old streets and looking at paintings, and reluctantly made our departure. The first part of the journey was west through flat land and sleepy villages. We stopped at one for lunch, and found the clouds had moved in while we were inside. There was no more rain after this, but the temperature dropped noticeably.

The gorges of Quillan are stunning, and there are many campsites along the banks of the river, all the way to Foix. For canoeists, rock climbers and cyclists this part of the world is heaven. Quillan itself is rather sad and scruffy. There are big blocks of flats in the town that don't look at home amongst the alpine scenery, and have a down-at-heel look. Nevertheless, the town is full of English speaking estate agents, so it looks like we aren't the first to find it!

As we carried on into the heart of Cathar country the scenery changed again, and the sun came out. This part of the world has many interesting castles perched high on seemingly impregnable mountain fastnesses. One of the most famous is Montsegur, which was the last Cathar stronghold to fall (the inhabitants finally being burned at the stake outside St Nazaire cathedral in Beziers). It has featured in the Da Vinci Code and a number of other books.

We had climbed the hill to the castle on a previous visit and an amazingly steep climb it is! The castle had been occupied mainly by women, who had emerged daily to look after the sick and needy of the area. They owned nothing, and everything was provided through the gratitude of the locals, including the castle itself. Truly amazing - I'm too lazy to walk to the corner shop at the end of the road, let alone make that climb on a daily basis.

We glimpsed the castle to the South and then we were at Foix. There was a campsite in the town that we used 8 years ago, but we wanted the psychological boost of being past Foix, so we didn't stop. Just north of the town we saw a sign for Camping a la Ferme - the first of the holiday, so we gave it a try. We followed the sign down narrow lanes for several miles and finally up a steep unmade track to a farm. When we got there, the farmer told us it wasn't open as the facilities weren't ready. Aaaaaaaaaargh! The signs were some of the best we'd encountered in France, but the toilets were in pieces around the field!

Back to plan B, we followed another well sign-posted route to a village camping, and this too was closed, but we finally found Camping du Chateau, in Varilhes. This is on the main street through the town, on the west side. It's a nice tidy site and the facilities are spotless. We didn't have electricity and it cost about €12. (You can see I'm losing track of the details now). Definitely one we'd use again.

It's definitely a lot cooler than the Med., and too cool for June, but it is at least dry, and the wind has dropped. Bonsoir, mes p'tits!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212537900/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212537900/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212537900/tpod.html Sat, 14 Jun 2008 03:07:06 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Banyuls-sur-mer, France

Just as dawn was turning the horizon red (shepherds warning and all
that), Ralph woke up and headed for the loos. I decided to do the same,
and then he got the hump with me for taking my time to get back. I was
picking up our rubbish that had blown all over the camp. I had finally
just dozed off when there was a loud bang and a groan from Ralph.

We
have a plastic container with suckers, that sits behind the sink and
sticks to the window during the day. At night, we remove it so we can
pull the blind down, and put it on the ledge inside the roof space,
against the canvas. We have done this every night for 5 years. Tonight
the wind made the canvas move, pushing the container off, and it made a
beeline for Ralph's head.

I shoved the whole lot under the bed
and longed for home. I'd just dozed off again when Ralph announced he
was bleeding. He had a deep cut over the eye. I'm not even going to ask
if it can get any worse now, because I know it will.

Of
course, soon after this it started raining, but it did more or less
stop as we got moving. We were late getting up after the disruptions of
the night, and despite the dismal weather, we decided to stay a second
night, just to save the bother of packing up and driving on. It wasn't
a bad day, all-in-all. We walked into town, going a different route to
the usual, just looking at the back streets and visiting the station.
You can get to Perpignan, Toulouse and Paris from Banyuls and Ralph
gets discretionary discounts as an employee of a UK train company. It
should take about 24 hours to do Bournemouth to London, Eurostar to
Paris and then down to Banyuls - and no packing the Bongo - nice. In
the other direction, the trains stop at Portbou, where you can change
and go on to Barcelona or wherever.

By the time we
reached the station, it was looking like it might rain again, and Ralph
announced that he had levelled the awning that morning(meaning the
central part would fill with water and potentially be damaged).
Dohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! You've got to watch him all the time!

Back
we went, up the hill, and I left him to climb the slope to the Bongo
while I hung around reception trying to find a bus timetable to go to
Port-Vendres and Collioure. 15 minutes later I climbed the hill to find
him connecting to electricity. And so the day slipped away. Never did
find the bus timetable, but we got to the seafront at about 1.30 and
installed ourselves in a restaurant ovelooking the beach, where a sweet
waitress told us our French was very good (you can rely on me to sort
out all the food and drink words in any language).

I
had an enormous seafood salad and couldn't walk it off even after a
couple of hours. We both love this place. The temptation to look in
estate agents windows overcame us, but like all seaside locations, it's
megabucks. We did find a flat with a sea view that was very affordable,
and it's massively tempting for a weekend (Bongo-free) getaway, but we
know we will hate the place in the high summer season. Better to live
inland and visit.

We've been talking camper vans all
holiday - our ultimate intention being to replace Bongo with a long
wheelbase high top conversion like Timberland or ih. You don't see many
of these in France, the locals apparently preferring their square boxes
with portaloo doors. That's always been our view of the coach built and
A-class stuff. The accommodation is obviously great, especially for
long trips, but they lack manoeuvrability and the entrance is so small
you are either in or you are out. With a van conversion you get a
patio door with the sliding side door, that allows you the shelter of
the inside while still feeling outside. Also, at La Pinede, we were
able to park Bongo in a tent-sized space with a view to die for (try
putting your Pilote there, monsieur).

Today though, we saw a
long wheelbase, high top Fiat Ducato conversion with a French number
plate. That's really interesting because we are thinking about buying a
European conversion, given that we do almost all our travelling on the
continent. On the strength of this I have decided to buy a French
motorhome magazine. So, soon it won't be 'born2bongo' or
2britsandabongo'. Maybe 'doomed2ducato', or '2reprobatesandarenault'.
No, get real. '2drunksandaducato'.

It's 8.20pm now and
the wind is still blustery and cooler than before. It's just started to
rain but probably won't last. Although it hasn't exactly been scorchio
today, it's been dry and warm, and we've recharged a bit. We've worked
out that we could get to Le Havre in a 12 hour drive (or 2 * 6 hour
drives), using the toll roads, so we don't have to leave until Friday,
but we are going to take a slow potter through the beautiful valleys to
Quillan and Foix, rather than the faster route via Carcassone.


Of course, there's still time for Bongo to blow down the mountain,
break down or any number of other disasters, so watch this space. For
now though, and despite feeling chilly in the strong breeze, we are
feeling more chilled than for a while. It's the Banyuls effect - check
it out.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212452100/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212452100/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212452100/tpod.html Sat, 14 Jun 2008 02:05:45 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Banyuls-sur-mer, Languedoc-Roussillon, France

Just when you think things couldn't get any worse - they do. The rain continued all night and at 2.30, I could no longer resist the urge to venture forth to the facilities. I got dressed and opened the door - to find my flipflops sailing gently on 4" of water. I rounded them up and waded out. The good news? The rain is warm in these parts, but no doubt that just means it's easier to get trench foot. Returning to the lake, I rescued our chairs, which Ralph had laid flat on the ground in case it got windy, and were now mainly submerged. I climbed back in and used half a kitchen roll drying my feet. What did I do to deserve all this?

I am reviewing and re-writing this entry at a later date because my mood next morning didn't favour a reasoned account of the camp site! By morning it had stopped raining and the lake had diminished to a squelchy patch. The facilities were fantastic - for me this was the best camp site we have stayed in all holiday, and we will definitely go back (when the weather's better). The showers were very roomy and each cubicle has its own washbasin, shelf and shaving light - an absolute luxury for camping municipal. The grounds are wooded and tidy, and would be perfect if it weren't for the flood. The lady who runs it is very friendly and very kind. There is a guest book and a large collection of tourist leaflets in a covered area next to the facilities, which has been filled with picnic tables for larger parties. All the entries share my view, and there are many local shows and celebrations that people have enjoyed over the last couple of years. The town is also a perfect starting point for Avignon, Arles, Aix-en-Provence or Marseilles. The day dawned cooler and brighter, but we could see that it was not settled.

The conditions of the night had reduced us to new depths of despair and we gave up on our trip to Provence. Instead we made a mad dash to Banyuls-sur-Mer, an old stamping ground of ours and one we are very fond of. We hoped it was far enough away from our present location to escape the weather system, and we could always head south over the Pyrenees to northern Spain if that didn't work.

We visited Monteux to buy our bread, and made the obligatory tour around the medieval bit, then set out on the long journey. We had fantastically sunny spells mixed with heavy downpours for most of the journey. It was a long run and we used the toll roads for some of it. It was looking distinctly cloudy once we passed Perpignan, but we were pleased to finally arrive at Camping Municipal La Pinede, in Banyuls.

I don't know why, but I love this site, so I've added more photos than any other on our visit. The showers are adequate but not exciting, the camp site is large and can be busy - we couldn't get a pitch when we turned up last year in July. It's on a hill above the town, and is steeply terraced, which helps to stop you feeling overcrowded. There used to be a little catering van just inside the entrance, that would serve a daily dish of something fresh and local, for a reasonable price. There was a seating area beside it, and we met many interesting fellow travellers when we ate there. Sadly this has gone, and extra pitches have been put in its place.

There was no-one at reception so we went to suss out the best pitches. They have installed cabins on the higher pitches where we normally park, which was also disappointing. We met the lady who has been running the place for at least 9 years that we know of. She looked cold, wet and miserable, and confirmed the weather had been bad for a long time. She showed us the pitches available on the lower levels and left us to make up our minds.

We settled on pitch 71, but when we went back to reception, she had seen our camper and, as it was so small, told us we could park in the tent areas. We drove up and looked around, and all the pitches with views were gone, except one. I stood on the hill enjoying the sea view in one direction and the mountains in the other, then I was hit by an icy blast of wind, so we moved down to better shelter and a lesser view.

We set up camp and I had a rare bout of tidiness. Everything that we didn't need was tucked away in the footwells, the food was prepared for the meal, coffee was in the percolator ready for tomorrow, and I had even selected clothes for the next day, and put them ready. Ralph went down to tell reception the pitch number and pay, but came straight back, telling me to pack up as he had found a much better spot.

He was right. It was lower down the hill and still reasonably sheltered but had a fabulous view over the town and the sea. I carefully rearranged everything - luggage from the footwell on the drivers side, all the bits and pieces on the roof ledge, opened bottle of wine and half full glasses in a bowl on the floor, full wine bottles tucked behind cushions on the seats, prepared meals on the floor and supported by other items to stop them sliding around. It took several minutes to get sorted.

Ralph then started the engine and lowered the roof. As he moved away, I grabbed the chock and walked down to the pitch with a couple of items I couldn't find a home for. I heard him stop for a second on the slope and thought 'I bet the wine's gone over'. Then he came down and we spent a few minutes getting the new position right. When he had put the roof back up he didn't come out of the van immediately and I found him mopping the window and moaning about all the 'bloody rain we had last night'. He thought the roof must be leaking. 'Great', I thought, 'What else can go wrong?'

Then I discovered the broken bottle of raspberry cocktail that I had tucked into the bedding in the roof - and forgotten. Closing the roof had obviously broken it and our bedding was nicely soaked, as were the electrics round the cab roof lights. Deep joy!

We now needed a major cleanup, as we were looking at 'sticky' not just 'wet'. Luckily the bedding had only caught the liquid at the corners. We sponged it with loads of kitchen towel and left it outside to air for as long as possible. If it had been alcoholic Ralph would probably have sucked the bedding dry! We finally got our meal at 9.30, and missed a rare beautiful evening.

We went to bed soon after, both in a fairly evil mood, and I only slept for an hour before being woken up by the wind flapping our awning. I was unable to sleep at all after that, feeling sure the awning would be pulled out of the ground by the wind, or we would all be blown down the hill by a hurricane. I reached a major low at this point. My hands were throbbing with eczema, which normally clears up with sun and sea water. This holiday though my fingers have been blistered and cracked the whole time, and now I'm hardly able to bend them at all - just to add to the general misery.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212367800/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212367800/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212367800/tpod.html Fri, 13 Jun 2008 02:53:30 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Nîmes, Languedoc-Roussillon, France

Well what do you know - if we didn't wake up to rain yet again. We were forewarned by the campsite owner, who told us the weather would be better 'after tomorrow'. So roll on Monday, then.

We decided Nimes was a good option, and after stopping in the village for bread, we made straight for it. I'm beginning to regret charging off, though, because all these old villages around this part of France are so lovely, and so timeless. We are just skimming off the surface and ought to settle in and enjoy the finer detail more - maybe tonight.

It had stopped raining by the time we got to Nimes but was still cold, so we wrapped up and set out. We parked on the road near the station and our first port of call was
the enormous colosseum, called Les Arenes, in the centre of town. It's used for all kinds of entertainment and we had just missed a show called the 'Legend of Java' that appeared to involve bare-back riding and fire. We were too mean to pay the €7 each to get in and look around the inside, but we managed to find out it had been built by the romans. What else do you need to know?

I was sure there was a cathedral in Nimes, and after looking at an attractive church on the far side of the central square to the colosseum, we set out in pursuit of twin spires we had glimpsed earlier. Nimes is strangely reticent about advertising any of its history other than Les Arenes, and when we
found the building we still couldn't see any tourist information. What's more it was in a sad state of repair - boarded up windows, locked doors and an outside area whose main function was a dog's toilet. We walked all the way around the building and saw nothing to enlighten us, until we spotted a modest noticeboard outside the front door. It wasn't the cathedral after all, but a church. There was a map showing other churches, and the cathedral, which was a couple of blocks away.

We memorised the route and headed straight for it. Still no publicity, and when we did happen upon it, it could have
been easily missed. Tucked away in a quiet square, it looked far less imposing than the church we had just left, and wasn't any better kept or more accessible. The notice outside, though, descibed its history, drawing our eyes to roman parts of the building, as well as more recent additions.

That was the extent of our exploration of Nimes. We stopped for a beer near Les Arenes and then headed for Avignon. As we did, the sun finally came out. Avignon is beautiful - don't miss it. The sheer scale of the place puts even Aigues-Mortes in the shade. The amount of city behind the fortified walls; the enormous Popes palace, and surrounding buildings, and of course the famous bridge. All in mellow yellow with soft ochre tiles. Like Bath in France. Again, we were really skimming off the surface, but we have been here before. This time we took in the gardens on the rock above the palace, and indulged in an ice-cream in one of the many shops, but we decided to leave early and find a campsite, to take advantage of a few rays.

The sites nearest Avignon were too big and fancy for us so we headed east, towards Carpentas. Our first port of call was Monteux, where we found a camping municipal. It's on a quiet spot near the river, with a short cut into town for bread in the morning. The facilities are spotlessly clean and fairly modern. Unusual in a Municipal camp site - there is actually paper in the toilets. The water in the washbasin is warm so there is every reason to think the showers will be good as well. The lady who runs it is very nice and tried hard to speak English to us while we tried equally hard to speak French. She has internet in her office, and when we powered up, there was a network available,which was probably hers, but was secured. Although she was willing to let us use the machine, she had no knowledge of the network,which probably belonged to the council. I didn't want her to get into trouble with her bosses because of us, so we didn't pursue it any further. We've paid €12 including electricity, and we are well pleased with it.

It's clouded over again but we are hopeful of better things tomorrow. I'm thinking it would be good to stay put and just walk round the town, but no doubt we'll be on our way. I think we'll be staying south though, because Ralph spotted some snow on a nearby mountain as we left Avignon.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212278400/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212278400/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212278400/tpod.html Fri, 13 Jun 2008 02:38:05 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Aigues-Mortes, Languedoc-Roussillon, France

After some rain in the night we woke up to an overcast day. Having slightly over-indulged on the falling-down juice the night before we were a bit slow to emerge!

The Germans had gone and we seemed to have the camp to ourselves. We decided to get breakfast in the town, after a quick shower, but the camp commandant had already cleaned the facilities and put the broom across the entrance to repel all boarders. We did our washing up and tried again, but there was nothing for it - we had to cross the barrier. The showers were good and hot though, and apart from the toilets we would have no hesitation in going back. The town has a central market square and everything you need. There are lots of old buildings and probably a great deal of history if you probe beneath the surface - but we were off to Aigues-Mortes. We had decided to head east in search of warmer weather in Provence.

Aigues-Mortes is an enormous fort, in the middle of the Carmargue, with an entire town inside. It's well taken care of and the bright colours of the shops and restaurants bring it to life. For a small fee you can get into a museum and from there you can walk the walls. We wimped out of that on account of the wind coming off the sea. We arrived just in time for lunch and settled down in one of the squares for some delicious fish, with a carafe of local rosé and a chocolate mousse for after. It's great how you can enjoy a meal abroad and walk away feeling not too bloated to move after.

This was a good choice of venue for the day as the castle walls offered a good deal of shelter from that cold sea
breeze. We only saw occasional glimpses of the sun, and according to the proprietor of tonight's camp site, tomorrow is set to be no better.

We are staying at L'Oliviers, a 3* camp site at Junas, which is halfway between Montpelier and Nimes. There is another site in the village, which we checked out first - Les Chenes - which is 2* but only slightly cheaper. It had the advantage of internet access but wanted to charge €4 for the night. Add the €3 for electricity and it makes for a very expensive connection.

We are in the corner of this camp site, overlooking horses so I am in my element. It is also more sheltered from the cold wind. As in so many other camp sites at the moment, some of the facilities are locked, but at least they have a loo you can sit on! All is very rustic but very clean. We decided not to pay for electricity unless we could have an internet connection, because I charged up the laptop last night. The battery lasts 2 hours which is enough to load up my photos and write up some notes. We've paid €13.80 including taxes, so not too bad for a 3*. We are well placed for Nimes, which seems like a good place to visit tomorrow - particularly if the weather is not good.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212196440/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212196440/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212196440/tpod.html Sun, 08 Jun 2008 14:18:05 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Montagnac, Languedoc-Roussillon, France

We meant to stop at a bakery for bread and then head up to Ganges, following the river. While hunting for the boulangerie, we saw signs for the medieval bit and investigated. Another hidden gem! Inside the medieval walls are many interesting buildings and narrow cobbled streets. The neat little shops and cafes may be a tourist trap but their brightly coloured displays liven up the stone buildings. We browsed the town and stopped for a beer and then set off towards Clermont L'Herault.

There is a lake just outside the town which looked a promising place to take lunch, but an orienteering group had taken over the place and none of the parking was accessible. We continued along L'Herault, hoping to find a nice place beside the river.

At Aniane we found a sign for a picnic area 'au plan de l'eau'. Huge mistake! It started on a normal village road, but this led to a set of road works. We followed more signs through what felt like a building site, with workmen setting
curb stones and digging out paths. We left this and found ourselves on an unmade road, which just kept on going, until finally it plunged down a hill. It was probably near the river at this point, but the track was impassible by a vehicle and Ralph had to reverse up several hundred yards before we could return.

The mood in the Bongo was not good by now. We finally stopped in the car park of a cave at the beginning of the gorge. We enjoyed lunch in the sun, listening to thunder in the distance, in the direction we were headed. After that, we made it up to Ganges, but saw little to make us leave the comfort of the van for the wind and rain outside. We returned to the coast, via Montpelier, entertained by a dramatic storm to the east as we went.

The weather returned to hot sunshine as we approached the town, and we left the main road to follow a quieter road parallel, intending to return to the previous night's camp. As we passed through Montagnac we saw signs for the Camping Municipal. This was not marked on my map or in my book, but we went for a look.

It was just outside the town and we booked for a night (€13.30 with electric). It is a lovely spot and we have an excellent pitch looking over a small valley and onto the town. We are soaking up the last of the evening sun and watching a couple of magpies teach their baby to fly (Ralph is throwing stones at it to help). The one big disappointment - the ladies facilities are closed here, and the only toilets are the hole-in-the-floor variety, which explains why the site isn't in the guides. They are spotlessly clean, though. No internet either, but we weren't really expecting it.

We had an entertaining evening watching a german couple with a monster of a campervan, trying to set up for the night. Their van had been parked at the entrance when we arrived and no-one was around. We assume they were doing what we did - walking the campsite to find the best pitch. We found ours, on the edge of the site, near the top of the hill and facing the setting sun. While we were sussing it out, the big camper started up and made slow progress up the hill towards us.

Ralph went back for the van while I waited on the pitch. The germans eventually chose a pitch on the perimeter of the ground about 3 along from us. It was on a bit of a slope, whereas ours was level. We had just set up and settled down with a glass when we heard their engine start up. They moved into the pitch on the opposite side of the road, in the central part, and we thought it was because it was more level.

There are only electric points on the central pitches but we ran our cable across the track to the nearest point. It would seem the Germans decided to do the same, and then reversed back to their original spot. They then spent an hour trying to get it level. The van was too big for the pitch and they started with the front chocks on the edge of the road. As they moved forward, the chocks slipped, with a loud scraping that alerted the whole camp to their difficulties. They then reversed into the hedge and moved the chocks back, but even with these they never managed to be fully level.

Next morning they made an early getaway - but not too early for me to see them drive off with the electric still connected. He did stop in time but he looked majorly teed off. Methinks there will be a camper van for sale at the end of this break.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212082560/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212082560/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/born2bongo/1/1212082560/tpod.html Sun, 08 Jun 2008 13:39:41 -0400 2 Brits and a Bongo - touring France so you don't have to

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Béziers, Languedoc-Roussillon, France

The showers at St Christophe were not the best. The water was never quite as hot as we wanted and had a feeble flow. If someone else pulled some water off it got cooler, and the shower head was fixed overhead, which I hate. The cubicle didn't give enough room to swing a cat, or enough hanging space. That was the only complaint really, but quite an important one.

We set off for Beziers, but as we left the town we found the camping municipal. The sign led us up a road between 2 supermarkets and past a tired looking block of flats to a reasonable and clean camp site. We had our pitch for the night and that made the rest of the day easier.

We spent most of the day in Beziers. The cathedral of St Nazaire was beautiful, and the views in front of it over the countryside below were stunning. I seem to remember reading about hundreds of Cathar heretics being burned at the stake outside the cathedral, but there was no mention of any questionable past inside.

We took a leisurely lunch in the main square and then explored the town. For those shopaholics amongst you, Galleries Lafayette is just a pale shadow of its big sister in Paris.

The car park was a bit of a joke. Ralph had wanted to use a car park rather than leave the Bongo on the street, because he thought the technology inside would be safer. We parked in the main square as it was one of the few car parks without height restrictions. It was the kind where you take a ticket on entry and pay on exit.

On leaving, I got to the back of the queue to pay. A man at the front was frantically waving his hands at the intercom and we all waited. Eventually he gave up and left in despair. The next bloke paid his money and left with his ticket validated, then the next person had the same problem as the first man. A couple of people in the queue indulged in some hand waving of their own and set off down the nearby stairs. Eventually the person at the ticket machine did the same.

Then it was just one person between me and escape. His ticket was rejected as well and I hastily tried mine. It too was not authorised. I followed him down the stairs to the back of an even longer queue for another machine. Everybody in this queue was being rejected so eventually I followed them to a third queue, which led to a real person. I stood through several minutes of hand waving from my fellow queue-ers, watching to make sure we didn't run into the next time slot, and practicing the French to argue if I was overcharged. When I got there though, he put the ticket in his machine and it came up with a figure half the amount shown on the tariff, so I paid up, smiled meekly, and made my escape.

The camping municipal at Pezenas is quite respectable. The pitches have plenty of space around them and a lot of privacy. The facilities are clean and the shower is adequate. There is no internet connection, but other than that it's
fine. It cost €13.30 including electric.
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