Vamos a Espagna

Unfortunately the connection is too slow to let me upload any photos, so these will have to follow later. ....

It's now 24 hours later and we've a faster connection so I've added some photos and done a bit of updating. The next instalment will have the details of the second day "on the Book" together with yet more trials with Herself - "Elisfor". But for now, we'll do some catching up....

…via Hay-on-Wye, Plymouth, Roscoff and the length of France.

Our first week on the road, and a lot of miles behind us to get to Capmany in Catalonia, where we’re having a day off the road to catch up with the housekeeping and sort out the photos. Maybe that’s the curse of digital cameras; I used to be a bit selective in when I pressed the shutter on those expensive and time consuming wet films, but I think I got better results in the end. Anyway, a lot to sort out and the laptop battery isn’t going to last long, so best I get on with it, eh?

We left home in the rain last Thursday and made it tour first nightstop near Kendal without any problems other than I noticed another water leak – I thought I’d got ‘em all – when my right foot felt colder than the left. Generally it doesn’t matter what shoes you wear when driving but I guess wellies would be the safe option in a Defender. Not desert boots. Blotting paper in foot shape…

Tracking down the campsite wasn’t easy either since The Navigator couldn’t remember how to put a postcode into the satnav and had been relying on it to get us there. A lesson learned, and not for the bloody first time, either! Anyway, after phoning the site and getting directions from the motorway exit which wasn’t the one we’d used, The Driver elected to use the Reversionary Plan: get the map out. This of course should’ve been the Primary Option, but …

The following day saw us in Hay-on-Wye. We had some time to kill before heading up the hill to the HUBB meeting at Baskerville Hall, so we wandered the town’s winding streets and gawped in the bookshops of which there are quite a few, as you might expect in a town famous for them. A drink in a real pub was a pleasant change from the more commercial drinking establishments north of the Grampians, especially as we could sit outside in the sun for a change. The forecast for the weekend is heat- lots of it – with more to follow so our shakedown of the tent etc should be a lot more pleasant for that.

The HUBB (Horizons Unlimited Bulletin Board) – meeting is an event we’d planned to visit last year but had to cancel the trip at the last minute, so got a free entry to this year’s event. The weather was glorious and the campsite full of folk who, like us, prefer to “travel than to arrive”. A bit like an upmarket gathering of Gyppos, I guess. Lots of interesting people to talk to, notes to exchange and experiences to feed off. The organisers – Grant and Susan Johnson – had managed to get a large number of people to share their expertise and knowledge across several days of lessons, talks, presentations – call them what you like – which gives the event some focus as opposed to the usual “trade show” feel that some venues might have.

That said, some of the most interesting talks were held on the Friday and since we’d only had time to book a weekend ticket we missed out on these. We did, though, make some new friends and sympathised with the trio of bikers who'djust braved a week inthe Irish rain - and it rains there like Borneo in the "Wet" - and didn't chicken out into a hotel once, despite damp crotches and saddle sores, I'll bet. Good to meet you Nick et al. Maybe see you north of the border one day...where it's wet and bug-infested too!

 The the Sunday programme could’ve been a lot busier and if the Friday presenters could’ve been persuaded to move to the latter part of the weekend they’d have had some appreciative audiences, I’m sure. As it was the event wound up at midday with the campsite still very active.

We left at about 2pm to wend a slow way through the Black mountains to the Severn Bridge and the motorway to Plymouth. Our ferry to Roscoff and the delights of La France wasn’t leaving until 2200 so we had time for a leisurely tootle in what was now proper Summer temperatures. In fact the thermometer showed 32C at one point which is Proper Hot for the UK.

With 2 hours to kill in the ferry queue cos The Navigator likes to get in line early, we cooked dinner to the interest of our fellow travellers.

 We began to move at 1945 and an hour and a half later were still on dry land with other cars still arriving. Next time, we’ll join the queue a little later. Once on board, though,we dumped the toothbrushes in the cabin and made for the bar. A couple of beers later and The Driver made the comment, it being nearly midnight and knowing we’d left the docks at just after 10, that the sea seemed very smooth. In fact, we couldn’t even feel the throb of the engines. Most impressive …until we looked out and saw that we’d only gone about a mile then dropped anchor with Plymouth still very much visible. Presumably waiting for a fair wind for France?

We were the third vehicle off the boat at Roscoff since we’d been made to wait to be loaded onto the lower deck due to our extra height. This put us at the right end of the ship and if the public school occupants of the minibus in front of us had been anywhere nearby when the doors opened, we’d have been the second off. Presumably they were having a late breakfast. We didn’t bother but headed for the nearest pretty village having bought croissants from a roadside baker on the way.

 It’s this first stop along the road which always starts the holiday for me, and we ate our breakfast in the village square at Henvic, silent but for the church bells and notable – by our scruffy British standards – for the complete absence of litter of any kind. Not even a matchstick. That said, there was no evidence of any living thing either, so maybe nobody lived there to drop even a fag end? An impressive display of civic pride, we thought, and a pity it wasn’t the habit a few miles north.

And it was hot. 34C and got hotter as we moved south along the coast. We tried as much as possible to avoid the main routes and motorways, instead using the back roads, the “blue highways” of rural France, where it’s possible to see a lot more of how the country lives. In fact, the trunk routes are of no interest at all except to get somewhere in as short a time as possible. Since this isn’t the point of the trip, we took the slow roads – even if this means constantly on the lookout for speed restrictions and working the gearbox a little harder for the numerous rond-points in every town and village. At least these leave no doubt about who has priority at the former crossroads. I recall my Dad getting quite paranoid during my schoolboy holidays “abroad” when a lot of the roads joining from the right had priority – “Priorite a Droite” over the traffic on the main highway – and they didn’t stop to look either. The blast of the horn in protest, directed at a flat-capped Frenchman at the wheel of an ancient 2CV, Gauloise hanging from his lip, would produce nothing more than a shrug and a scowl by way of explanation as to why this bizarre practice hadn’t been outlawed when the internal combustion engine had been invented.

First stop was just north of St Nazaire, reached via Pleyben and its spectacular church,

Carnac and the “fields of stone”

–        prehistoric monoliths arranged like the terracotta warriors of China, but far more mysterious and thought provoking.










A short stop for lunch at a really unpleasant spot, as you can see….

At 1300 the temperature was 35C and we just dripped our way along the coast roads to eventually track down a campsite near St Lypharde. In fact, we were dripping more than sweat:

The spill pipe from the reserve tank to the main was pouring diesel from a split right at the outlet. I’d inspected this before we left home and thought – wrongly as it turns out – that the 2 jubilee clips were providing plenty of security for this important connection. Had I got a bit more surgical in my inspection I’d have seen that the pipe was, in fact, broken and had been “repaired” with black plastic tape, presumably electrical insulation tape and the extra clip was just camouflaging the break. Once we’d filled the tanks to the top (for the very first time ever), the leak showed itself as a constant stream of smelly fuel which we’d noticed on returning to Elly after the all-important wine-and-bread run to la supermarche. The locals weren’t going to be impressed with the mess, so we legged it Toot Sweet and found a quiet layby a few miles out of town to sort out the problem. The pipe’s a bit shorter now and needs to be replaced, but it’ll hold for now. It took 20 minutes to scrub myself clean with wetwipes.

The rest of the minor snags are nothing more than we’d expected but with one notable exception. The black box that should allow 240vAC to power the fridge doesn’t. It passes 12vDC like a standard ciggy plug but the important changeover function to let us use the campsite mains has packed up. I had my suspicions about it a couple of trips ago but it appeared to have sorted itself out and I put the snag down to my electrical ineptitude. Probably out of warranty too, of course, so we’re now topping up using solar power which certainly isn’t a problem with the weather the way it is. It does need some careful management though – getting the fridge really cold or even freezing when there’s plenty of sun means we have remember to take out the stuff for lunch and supper before it gets too solid, and it’s a real downer to look forward to a cold beer at day’s end only to be presented with an icetube. In 38 degree heat, a cold bottle does have it’s uses though:

The zip on the tent cover needed some repair as the glue that someone had used to repair it in the past didn’t survive first use.

We’re getting quicker at setting up and taking down the tent now. After a week’s practice it’s up in five minutes and packed in about ten, mostly due to the need for great care with the zip. Luckily we’re not having to bother with the mattress sleeve or the extra cover for the tent cover (a cover for a cover? What a faff!) and this adds another five minutes each way. The fact that the cover is warm from the sun probably helps by making it more flexible.

..and the ceiling tiles have begun to come off.

Surprisingly it’s the insulation sheets at the back, protected by the tent, that have come unstuck. Since we’ve experimented with various methods of fixing these, I can now confirm that heavy duty double-sided carpet tape isn’t as effective as we’d have liked. In fact, it’s crap.

On Tuesday 20^th we decided to bypass St Nazaire due to the increasing hour (our late start) and decreasing interest in the heavy traffic which would be part of an exploration of the town. It looked pretty industrial from where we saw it but the spectacular bridge over the Loire would’ve made a great picture if there’d been anywhere to stop. The view from the cab doesn’t do it justice.

Tuesday night was spent at the municipal site at Marens. A typically well set up arrangement run by the local council and overseen by the French equivalent of Hinge and Bracket, the twin sisters of TV notoriety. Mademoiselle Hinge was obviously in charge and directed Mlle Bracket to do everything requiring physical effort, including counting the money and opening the barriers, of which there were several, all controlled with a different keypad code. We welcomed the extra attention given by Ms Bracket since Ms Hinge had halitosis to knock a camel down.

Wednesday 21st. From Marens to Brocas les Forges, south of Bordeaux.

We found this little gem of a site by using the satnav suggestion.

Because our Garmin hasn’t had an update since 2006 some of the info is a little out of date, to put it mildly, and we really should get a new one or a new database if it’s available for our somewhat ancient eBay bargain. Using it for anything other than a GPS position –why I bought it – is asking for a frustrating time if navigation is critical for on-board relations, if you know what I mean. On this occasion, though, it came up trumps with a site in the middle of the huge pine forest of Landes de Gascogne in Aquitaine. No warden on site, tucked away at the edge of the village in a grove of oak trees and with electricity, hot water and showers.

 If you wanted an example of thoughtful hospitality this would be hard to beat. Not a scrap of litter, no noise, dogs or motorbikes and open for anyone to use. Back home I’d give that sort of facility about a week before it was trashed or taken over by “travelling folk” who do anything but, once they’ve found a freebie.

Sharing our spot was a group of guys from Lewes in Sussex who were cycling to Spain to raise money for Alzheimer’s Disease research.

Nick Walters and his pals were doing 50 miles a day, starting at 0600 to avoid the worst of the heat but had been caught out the previous day by reaching what they thought should be a bridge crossing of a major water feature, only to discover it was actually a ferry, and they had to wait for nearly 2 hours for the next one, putting them on the move again as the sun was at it’s highest. I guess glitches like that can turn a pleasant pedal into an endurance event. If you want to support Nick’s cause, he gave me this link:

 https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/nick-walters4?utm_medium=email&utm_source=ExactTarget&utm_campaign=20170621_96877

Thursday 22^nd.

Leaving the site at just before 0900 we met the guy in charge of the loos who invited us to make a donation to the upkeep of the place. In fact, there was a scale of charges displayed at the unmanned information kiosk and we were scratching our heads to work out whether we were supposed to shove the money under the door so he arrived at just the right time. A few minutes earlier and he’d have made some cash from Nick’s support crew too, but he’d already left. The charge for the night was a princely 8 Euros, which puts the £22 we were charged at Kendal for similar amenities but without the ambience into perspective.

Routing close to the coast had put us further south than the original plan but we reasoned it might be a little cooler there, so now we had to strike inland via Toulouse en route to Perpignan and the area of the start point of the Vibraction traverse of the Pyrenees. We’d intended to drop in on a contact living somewhere between Limoges and Perigeux but we were now too far south to make this a reasonable detour so the tea bags we’d promised to bring are still packed “upstairs”. Marc, if you read this, we’ll drop them in the post the next time we get to the right side of the border!

So another hot, sticky day but with interesting scenery on the minor route to Toulouse. The down side of this leisurely progress is, of course, the lack of forward progress if the traffic gets slow. After a morning of farm carts and gangs of cyclists we were unfortunately forced to accept that we needed to get a move on. The peage that would take us all the way to the border was a reluctant choice but a necessary one, and we found a site just north of the Traverse start at Collioure. The solar panel was now providing all our “static” electricity and kept everything at full capacity when we were moving, supplementing the engine alternator. I upgraded Daphne’s alternator to cope with extra loads like windscreen wipers, heater, lights etc for “normal” conditions and it would be interesting to see if Elly’s standard electrics would cope with the same demands. Probably not, so I’ll put the 100A kit in when we get back.

At last, we arrived in Collioure and dipped our feet in the Med.Actually these photos were taken about 2 miles up the road as we couldn't find anywhere to park in Collioure proper. It's areally picturesque little town with a great seafront but bugger all parking for something like us with the turning circle of the Queen Mary, so we did the next best thing. Found a supermarket with a sea view.

A few minutes in the Lidl carpark were needed to explain the use of the roadbook and the tripmeter..

and it would’ve been nice to start the trip from the carpark on the seafront a la book, but the place was rammed. We decided to grab a quick picture on the way past as The Navigator hit “reset” to zero the trip.

The route begins at the rotunda (round thing)in the middle distance. We decided against blocking the carpark entrance and exit and instead just hit "go" as we passed by....

Predictably, we got lost after 400 metres when the expected turning didn’t materialise. After going backwards and forwards a couple of times The Navigator spotted the “Route du Temple” which got us going the right way out of town. Actually it’s not surprising that we missed it – twice- as it appears to be not much more than a very steep footpath up the side of a shop and you’d normally not even register it was even there. This, I think, is what might be called “getting in the zone”. Now we understand how the descriptions in the book need to be taken literally – my “mind’s eye” image of what this first turning point would look like were completely wrong, which didn’t help to find it.

Thereafter, following the roadbook – akin to rally pace notes- was pretty straightforward as long as we took care to restart the tripmeter at the right place and stay ahead of the game by a few yards.

 We missed a couple of turns by failing to identify the features in the sketches even though the trip log was correct, so the usual method of using at least two confirming bits of info would’ve stopped  us missing these points. As it was the mistakes were soon very obvious and easily solved by backtracking a few metres. The Vibraction team - both of them - have obviously spent a huge amount of time and effort putting these guides together and,while it would be possible to drive the route without the guide, it'd be a very "hit-and-miss" venture and take at least several average holidays to even get close to what's on offer here. We paid what we thought was a high price for a "book", but you're not just buying the paper but the weeks of effort involved in getting it right.

The road surface varied from quite rough tracks to quite good tarmac, but much more of the former and all very narrow and sometimes deeply rutted. We’ll put the bush cables on for the next legs as the trees, which are overgrowing the tracks in many places, will do some damage otherwise.

That’s all, folks. We’ve decided to loaf about at this superb site until tomorrow (Sunday). When we got here yesterday we were made extremely welcome and we were even presented with a current copy of the ASCI guide to help us find our next overnight stop. The fact that it’s in Dutch doesn’t matter – it’ll save us a lot of Garmin-induced searching for long extinct campsites. Once parked we did what we’ve never done before – headed straight for the swimming pool…..

The manager of Camping Les Pedres was helpful, welcoming and had more travelling "war stories" then Ernest Hemingway.