And now the end is near the continuing story of our Tour de France - Week Eight

Wild camping by the river

If you remember last week I (Tim) was using a very wet day in north western Spain to update our seventh post that covers our recent trip to France, since last week we have moved much further south and I'm typing away with a view out over fields of mangos, avocados and other exotic fruits with the Mediterranean shimmering away and providing a stunning backdrop. Without further ado we'll bring you up to date with what was to be our last week in France for a while.

We left you in suspense at the end of the last post having arrived at our most recent France Passion (the web based platform that we were using as our bible and that connects mainly organic farms with motorhome owners, or VW Campervans like us, providing a free nights stay with the understanding that you may sample their produce with no obligation to purchase but hey who wouldn't want to top up on fresh tomatoes, or olives or wines that have been handcrafted in the very fields that surround you as you sleep?) a restaurant which wasn't open so after another peaceful sleep we both got up and had runs around the lake next to where we'd parked and further into the woods which were getting more frequent as we moved further north.

After we'd packed up, a performance that we were now bab hands at, gas off, porta potti away, rear awning and pop up roof down, we moved on towards Limoges and the charming towns that sit along the river Vienne and what was to be our first real wild camping experience as we couldn't find a suitable France Passion site along our intended route.

Maz cooking up a storm, again

We arrived alongside the river late in the afternoon and had spotted another VW camper a little further along the banks, the river wide and slow moving but from our vantage point we could see a little weir and below that some faster moving water where fishermen were dangled either worms or their fancy flies into the water hoping to catch some poor fish who was probably thinking about catching his own lunch for his family! 

As the evening drew on we found a semi secluded spot in a car park by the river and bedded down for the night, which was very peaceful and we awoke with excitement in our hearts as we were to visit and have lunch with our good friends, Lisa and Rebecca, who had given up their jobs and life in Jersey (the channel islands) and bought a house complete with gite business just up the road from where we had camped out.

The grand tour

The place they had bought was awesome, it was so well appointed and renovated that it made us quite jealous and our minds which had been thinking about buying a place for ourselves in France were nudged that way even further. Rebecca and Lisa hadn't had the best of first seasons with their Gite business, what with the issues around the limited travel and therefore holidaying that Covid-19 had imposed, but they had had a few visitors and were currently hosting a couple from Belgium and the lifestyle away from the busyness of corporate business seemed to suit them.

Lunch with friends

It was great to share a meal together in their lovely courtyard garden, of which much of our view and seating arrangements was obscured by our washing which Maz had been able to do in their handy machine in their second gite whilst they had given us the 'grand tour'. We were sad to leave but we did have another engagement to make before we found our nights parking spot.

We miss these sunsets from the pop up
roof in Elsie

As we've said the lifestyle and cheaper properties in France had certainly got our attention so most days we were receiving updates from the internet on various places that were for sale so as we were passing we made a plan to have a look around a very nice home which was being sold as a full B&B business, all furnishings for under £140,000. 

Topping up Elsie's water tank from an old well

The home was also very tastefully renovated but upon chatting with the owners, an English couple who had lived and run the business for six years, we found out that their dream was to travel and they had found the B&B restrictive and wanted to sell. It seemed that the tables would have been turned had we bought the place, our fancyfree lifestyle choice of roaming instead of homing would be lost and we weren't sure we wanted to sacrifice that just to have somewhere to call home...we are continuing to look at the various opportunities as to live and own a home in England is now out of our price range so we are living in this dilemma at this time. 

We were now moving north at quite a rate as we had booked a ferry back to England leaving Dieppe to Newhaven on the forthcoming Thursday afternoon so our house hunting escapades would have to wait a while, with Brexit perhaps putting a spanner in those works too as the laws around freedom of movement are due to change on the 31st December this year.

Our rushing back to England was all timed to fit in with the birth of our fourth grandchild, seeing as we'd have to self isolate for two weeks when we got home due to the Covid-19 situation we wanted to be able to visit our son and daughter-in-law, and new arrival as soon as we could!

The flat lands were calling

As we travelled the countryside became flatter, wind turbines and fields and fields of harvested crops, oats, wheat etc, stretched out as far as the eye could see. This definitely wasn't an area we wanted to stop in too long so after a night just north east of Chateauroux at one of those very arable farms we headed to Blois via a very convoluted route which we'll pick up on later.

Le petit wine tasting

On route we stopped off at a vineyard of that we'd spotted on the map. The cellar was tiny, certainly the smallest vineyard we'd ever been to, but the welcome from the elderly father and his son (neither of whom spoke English and our French really hadn't improved much over the trip, however now we are in Spain we are realising that we do actually understand a lot more French than we thought and having conversations in broken Frenglish is much easier than Spanglish!) was as good as we'd experienced throughout the trip which was shown in their very classy white wines of which we bought a bottle or two.

Stained glass adorns the windows

We also stopped at the charming city of Blois which sits on the Loire, we parked up in a car park overlooking the river and as had become our norm we visited its cathedral and were impressed by the architecture and feel of the place.

Blois across the Loire

Now back to the story of the convoluted route. Unfortunately after leaving Blois we had the first major navigational error of the trip, not bad seeing as through we were 53 days into it, we'd put the wrong GPS co-ordiantes into GoogleMaps and had headed north west for perhaps an hour before realising we should have been heading north east, that said we made it to our penultimate stop with time to spare and found the huge farmhouse, which included our last stop and visit to a vineyard of the trip, to be empty save for a dog who was barking madly at us.

We phoned the host who apparently was in town shopping and when she arrived back she was only too willing to show us to our parking spot, under a few plumb and apple tress which had so many fallers that the wasps were eagly devouring and into her cellar which was another wonderful experience.

Our last wine tasting at France Passion 2020

After sampling her wines we made a plan to purchase a few bottles but when coming to pay she didn't accept credit card and we'd spent our last cash in Blois earlier in the day, so what was to be our last purchase turned out to be just one bottle which we think she was a little sad about but hey we're in the 21st century now and the other little cellar we'd visited earlier in the day excepted cards so get with the times!

Chartres double towers

The night was warm, pleasant an quiet so after a leisurely pack down we headed north, checking our GPS co-ordinates a couple of times so as not to go off piste again, and made our way to Chartres, visiting it's magnificent cathedral with twin towers and stained glass windows which were apparently some of the oldest in the world and had inspired others to copy the tend. We also enjoyed a cup of coffee in the square around it, which was almost deserted, which felt sad but reflected the limited amount of tourists that we'd encountered on the rest of our trip.

The empty square around the catherdral

Our last night was spent at probably the most quirky of France Passion stops of the trip, the venue was a eco farm which also ran canoeing experiences along the river upon which it sat. The toilets were again dry, meaning that we had to use sawdust to cover our poop, and the water we needed for our shower had to be drawn from a deep well. To get the bucket to fill with water was quite an art and gives us a lot more appreciation for people who lived like this in the old days and whom still live like that in the communities where we normally spend time sharing the mindset leadership programmes with.

Our last stop at the Canoe center

During the afternoon we took to the water ourselves and enjoyed a leisurely (at least on the return with the flow) time paddling up the tiny river Eure to a watermill which was the perfect way to spend our final afternoon in France seeing as though we'd spent so much time exploring the banks along a large number of the rivers but never on them.

Paddling up the Eure

Once again we spent a relaxing morning before we realised that we needed to fill in an online arrivals form which would provide us with a QR code to show the border officers in England and for them to know where we would be spending the next 14 days once we'd arrived back.

We then had a quick lunch, packed up for the final time and made our way to the ferry which was to leave from Dieppe at around 5pm and depositing us on English soil in Newhaven some five hours late when upon arrival no border officer was interested in our QR codes which we'd saved to our phones and we passed through passport control and quickly onto the M23 and M25 on our way back home after what had been a most wonderful trip.

We'd spent a total of 54 days travelling, covering just over 4,000kms and during our time away we'd noticed a lot of interesting items placed on the middle of some of the larger roundabouts, these were probably designed to give a flavour of the town or village but some seemed quite random and included in no particular order but perhaps in some sort of date order the following:-

The stunning rose window

A large chair, a large hand, a windmill, a castle, a boat, some large bikes, random beach huts, a roman style archway, a face, big bright butterflies, a big bird, a wine barrel, a huge cello, a large great crested crane (national bird of Uganda), a waterwheel, vines, an iron man, a dove cote, a matador, a large horse, fountains, a star gazer, an iron man, a gateway, large mushrooms, a wooden barn, goats with cheese, a colourful hummingbird, statue of a man on a throne, a wooden cart, a bug hotel, a light aircraft, a stone seat and finally some wooden bridge strut although we weren't sure about that one!

Back in England, it's like being on holiday!

We hope you've enjoyed journeying with us, Tim, Maz and Elsie the VW camper who was fantastic and apart from replacing a day light driving bulb hadn't put a foot, or wheel/s wrong since leaving England some 4,000 kilometers earlier.

Our first meeting with Winnie

So in total we avoided any toll roads but found every road well surfaced and signs easy to read and overall we found the french people to be helpful, friendly and accommodating. We had a special time using the France Passion site which also meant that we interacted and made friends with real French people who were similar minded people that we wouldn't have experienced had we used hotels or even B&B's, to say we were pleasantly surprised is an understatement and we will be back Brexit willing!

P.S we did self isolate for two weeks and on the middle Sunday our family was added to by the arrival of dear Winnie who made our return to England all the more special. Till next time x 

Our Tour de France - Week Seven Working our way back up.

Our AirBnB Tent

Firstly we do hope that you are enjoying reading our post about our amazing 54 day trip into South Western France in our newly acquired VW Campervan called 'Elsie' during July, August and September 2020. Secondly all of the previous posts have been written whilst staying in our caravan, which is our main place of residence, in rural Buckinghamshire, England, but today I (Tim) am writing this post whilst sitting in a soggy campsite just outside of Salamanca in North West Spain, so with that bombshell you'd have probably guessed that there might be a Vuelta a España coming your way sometime soon!

Maz swimming in the Lot again

As the rain falls on Elsie's roof the balmy days of August seem just a distant memory so as I try to recall the events of our seventh week away during what was the week of the 22nd to 29th August 2020 please forgive me if I either ramble on our cut our time together shorter due to those gaps in my memory which are becoming more increasing in my older age.

We had making our way steadily north but with a mind not to retrace too many steps that we'd previously trod. After leaving our friendly unfriendly French friend behind just outside Auch where if you remember we'd met up with a statue of Charles de Batz de Castelmore, more commonly known as d'Artagnan of the Musketeers fame we headed for Agen, again on the river Garonne to a farm that grew prunes.

New friends and Pizza

Agen is a very famous region for prunes, however although we stayed on the farm it was a little too commercialised for our liking so we spent the afternoon reading by the Lot, another river that we'd seen earlier in the trip, Maz also took another dip and although the pitch that we had be assigned was quiet it was also a little damp, this was perhaps due to it's close proximity of the river and the fact that it was under the shade of some very very tall trees. 

Packing up the next morning proved to be more taxing than any other with the claggy soil sticking to anything and everything so we moved on as quickly as it allowed keen to get to our quirky AirBnB that we'd booked in nearby Pujols, a pretty little hill top village over looking the larger town of Villeneuve-sur-Lot. 

We were greeted by our host and now good friend Christophe who showed us to our accommodation, a tent! Yes we know we'd been camping for over six weeks but we were captivated by Christophe's set up and also the lure of a pool which was to be at our disposal over the next two days.

Shower time

The tent was funky, a double bed set on pallets with a small front awning for sitting and chilling. There was an outside shower, with hot running water and also a dry toilet similar to the one that we had experienced at the France Passion stay near Auch a few days before.

That evening we joined Christophe and his daughter for a pizza and beers that he'd bought in for us to share and he explained about the good mountain biking, and therefore good trail runs that surrounded his place. The next morning, after a very very good sleep, I (Tim) took on the daunting hill that rose from the house to village of Pujols that was calling from above.

Busy hilltop villages

Later in the morning we both took a stole up to the village, which had been voted prettiest in France on a number of occasions. The streets were deserted and the restaurant's all but empty which gave us the whole place to ourselves, which once again was surreal and wonderful at the same time.

I really enjoyed the challenge of the run and walk up to the village but soon settled back into a day lounging by the pool, dipping in and out to cool off and trying to finish the epic Les Misérables which I had been reading on and off for the whole trip. Maz was in her element with the access to the pool enabling her to enjoy her favourite recreation of 'swimming'.

Summer days.

We spent a second night under canvas with a further run out to complete a segment that I'd seen on Strava a 680 meter dash up a hill that gain 91 meters in height over that period. My time was 17th best, 2nd for over 45's, which again I was pleased with.

Chilling Out

After we said our sad goodbyes we headed further north, this time to visit a newly acquainted friend who we'd met via email after we'd both read three books which followed the fortunes of a family who'd left their comfortable jobs in Dublin to buy a vineyard just south of Bergerac.

Once again the drive through the vineyards east of Bordeaux was spectacular and we think that those around Chateaux Feely, home to Caro Feely, her husband, two now grown up daughters and dog, were some of the most beautiful a well manicured that we had seen on the whole trip.

We had agreed to meet at 4pm for a tour of the vines, chat about the domain and a tasting. We were greeted by Caro who informed us that we could park Elsie and stay for the night, which was wonderful and saved us thinking about driving after a tasting and further sundowners with her and her husband Sean who both hail from South Africa, Sean's grandfather had actually tended a vineyard just outside Stellenbosch in the old days so we had a lot to chat about which was nice.

Dry loo

The three books, written by Caro, follow their story of wanting to produce great quality wines in an organic way. Therefore they use no pesticides or herbicides, which are basically designed to kill off pests and diseases that the vines are susceptible to but also cause huge damage to the environment and the micro environment with the run off water, containing these chemicals returning to the nearby streams, then rivers and finally the seas of our planet and which have been proven to cause cancers to the people working with the vines and drinking the wine that is produced by this forced and foreign farming system.

Caro Feely harvesting her grapes

Caro had warned us that there would be a bit of early noise the next morning as they were preparing to pick their Sauvignon Blanc at around 7am, so I got up early for another run, quickly showered and joined Maz and their small team who were picking these tasty white (green) grapes by hand. Maz and I really enjoyed spending that hour with Caro and her team but needed to move on as we had an appointment to make at 11am.

During our time in France we had grown to love the country, its landscapes,  lifestyle and even it's people who had been so helpful and accommodating towards us, therefore we wondered if this might be the place to buy a home to use as a base whilst also allowing us to continue the work we do running leadership programmes to some of the most vulnerable people on the planet. 

To enable us to do this better we thought we should see if we could rent somewhere for the winter, helping us see what it might be like actually live during the less sunny times of the year and also to use as a base for us to explore properties that might come up in our price bracket.

Another few buckets in

Our meeting at 11am was with a lady who we'd contacted during the week around the rental of her three bed cottage just north of Bergerac and after enquiring as to where we might be able to park Elsie for the night offered us a free stay at the house that she rents out on a weekly basis during the summer. The place was wonderful, set out over two floors with a lovely kitchen, dinner come lounge big enough for a family, a downstairs bedroom with ensuite and two further bedrooms upstairs and an outside pool and terrace leading to a huge garden.

We made good use of the pool, chillaxing after a longish walk into the nearest village, but felt that the place was a little too isolated for the kind of winter living and walking that we wanted to enjoy so we turned down her offer of the six month contact and moved on after a peaceful nights sleep in a real bed (two singles!).

The following day we retraced our steps along the beautiful Dordogne river where we had travelled along over four weeks before. We were heading towards the stunning Rocamadour, a recommendation from Tim's parents who had visited many years before with his uncle (John, who sadly passed away earlier this year due to contacting this awful Covid-19 virus) and aunt who sang its praises as a must visit however we are getting ahead of ourselves back to today!

Watch out Maz is about

We turned up at an old farmhouse and were greeted by an elderly lady, bent double with age, and, who we suspected was, her grandson both spoke no English. The farmhouse seemed to be stuck in a timewarp with the 20th and 21st centuries passing it by as we entered through a low door into a dark but inviting farmhouse kitchen with cooking pots sitting above a the burning embers of the fire which obviously provided the warmth by which to cook and probably heat the house.

As was the custom of the 'France Passion' sites we were tempted by their wares which sat on the large oak kitchen table that took center stage, large tomatoes, squashes, jams and best of all fresh walnuts were purchased by Maz with what little change she had in her purse. 

The old lady informed us that we could pitch up in the field next to the sheep but before that encouraged her grandson to take us to see the views of the Dordogne and the idyllic village of Floirac that sits on one of the many paths towards the Camino Santiago. We left the farmhouse and made our tentative way in Elsie down a dead end sand road that led to a a rocky outcrop not only to find the wonderful views but also the fact that there was no real turning space, not to be deterred Elsie did her level best to keep a stiff upper lip and with a wing and a prayer we shuffled back and forth with the ravine calling us but to know avail, we were made of sterner stuff and returned forthwith to the safety of the field and the smelly fly ridden sheep which seemed a better option that the valley of death that we had just escaped.  

Tim overlooking the Dordogne after running
down to the village and back

The next morning we both went out for a run, I made it down to Floirac and back up the steeeep slippery path, again in good time, Maz ran around a loop along the top road on a 7km run which she said she enjoyed and after a quick shower using our faithful 12volt shower pump collapsible bag combo we were keen to get on to see what all the fuss about Rocamadour was all about.

The journey only took around 30 minutes through countryside that reminded us of Derbyshire, spectacular in its own right but nothing that we hadn't really experienced before. However that was all to change as we turned a bend that revealed a huge valley of which we hadn't seen since the Pyrenees and down which a road led passed some impressive city gates and as we traversed further opened up to a carpark next to a river.

A line of people snaked back toward the cliffs and as the tree line opened up we could see a medieval town, complete with church built as if hanging to the edge of these cliffs with huge buzzards or some such carrion birds circling above.

Rocamadour

Instead of following the hordes (which we don't often do anyway) we followed the river and lower path into the valley with the cliffs now closing in around us. Up we climbed and made it to a smaller city gate at the back end of the town and had the whole view to ourselves as the other tourists either clambered on the 'train', a vehicle with carriages which charged a fortune and looked sort of like a train except it didn't run on rails, or made their slow way up the steps.

Rocamadour two 

Saying that once again the town was all but deserted and we kicked ourselves for paying for parking when there was lots of free space along the riverside which was free to park. We enjoyed a few sunny hours exploring, even walking right up and along a prom which again provided us with awesome views of the town towards l'Hospitalet where apparently my Mum and Dad had stayed when they visited.

We made our way out away from the town on the other side of the valley which once again helped us shape our experience, how and why on earth did they build such a place is still a question which goes over in our minds and as we settled into our lakeside spot at Domaine du Moulin de Lachaud a little further north we discussed the week, our highlights and perhaps even our thoughts about making France our home in the future.

Until next time.....

Week six - Into the mountains and back

Well my laptop has decided to play up so instead of typing on my normal keyboard I'm having to work around that by using the touch screen option which is proving to be a bit restrictive on how fast I can get the thoughts out of my head and onto this post, so please bare with me else I might throw the thing out of the caravan window and hoping that it might sink into the saturated ground that surrounds us at the moment!

Corks cut out of cork bark!

Anyways we hope you are well and that you are excited to read about our further journey around France as we enter the sixth week of our adventure in our VW campervan affectionately known as Elsie.

After leaving the gorges and the castles of the Cathars we headed further south and west towards the mountains of the Pyrenees that had been tempting us with their dazzling and dizzy heights for quite some time now but before we got to them we made a slight diversion towards the warm waters of the Mediterranean sea and the lowlands around Perpignan.

We descended into these lowlands along a twisty turny roads that cut their way up, over and then down hill, using the contours of the land to navigate the most effective path through the stunning scenery. It was these kinds of roads would define the middle part of our sixth week exploring with Elsie.

Fire watch

However before we made our way onto the plains we decided to have lunch on along a dead end road which led up to an old monastery, the building still there but the monks long gone and in their place another lonely soul who works for the fire department and who's job it is to use his binoculars to scour the surrounding countryside for any sign of smoke, which if found he would radio in to the nearest fire station for them to deal with.

Enroute to our stop over we popped into a huge super market, called SuperU, where we needed to top up with gas, in fact we bought a second bottle, probably the most expensive item we'd bought so far, except for the diesel that Elsie was guzzling at a fairly modest rate (in fact by the end of the whole trip she'd managed to return a respectable 38 miles per gallon, but more on that in a few posts time!).

As you'll remember we'd been using France Passion (a web based community of over 2050 camping sites at which you are able to pitch up in a motorhome, or campervan, for one night for free at various organic farms, shops or restaurants around France), however the France Passion site that we had picked for tonight's stop over wasn't really up to the standards that we had become accustomed to, a huge gravel car park outside a shop selling olives alongside a main road. We ventured in, took a look around and swiftly made our exit before having to explain our actions to the host, who we're sure were lovely people.

First views of the Pyrenees from a
morning run from Passa

After leaving that site we studied the France Passion bible, the superb handbook which comes with the membership that provides you with maps detailing the position of the stop over, it's facilities, such as access to a toilet or water point and whether the host speaks English etc, and found another site but after another longish journey up some hot and dusty roads found the simple vineyard closed with not a soul to be seen. Back to the bible and after another pounder we made our way to Thuir and found a very strange set up within the orchards of nectarines and plums.

Not the greatest view

The site was fine but we felt a little out of place with a view of rusty old farm machinery and a huge structure of orange and blue pallet racking which was taking up the view which could have afforded us a sunset over the Pyrenees but instead took me back to my (Tim's) days of hunting around the warehouses of the companies that I worked for in my early working life and that thankfully seem a life time away after all we have experienced since then.

We took very few pictures as we 
made our way up mountain passes
but here's one.

We slept well and I enjoyed a short run in the tightly packed orchards, hearing the chatter of the pickers who had woken early to make the most of the cooler morning air, the smells of the fresh ripe fruit filled my nostrils gave me a boost it was with a bounce in my stride that arrived back to Elsie and Maz waiting with eager anticipation as we were going to be heading towards the sea and a day at the beach!

The road network around Perpignan was the busiest we'd seen so far and was a eye opener after weeks of quiet narrow roads which had become our favourite method of getting from A to B, the roads were packed and as we made our way towards the coast they became even more clogged, thankfully it seemed that everyone was heading in the opposite direction but as we turned off of the main coastal road, which would have taken us to Spain should we have wished, towards the seaside town of Collioure it seemed like the world and his wife had also decided to make that their desired destination of the day.

Grey clouds came over the Med making
it seem grey too!

Getting through that tourist filled tiny fishing village was a bit of a mission but we could see why it was busy, tight little streets heading down to the crystal clear Mediterranean was a little tempting but we wanted something a little less crowded, especially as we'd heard that the Covid-19 cases in France were on the rise so made our way further along the coast to Cap Bear where we spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon.

Another camping spot

At around 3pm, having enjoyed a swim and Maz a snorkel in the rocks around the little bay we found, we left the beach and headed towards Passa, also spelt Paçà as we were now well and truly enconst in Catalan country where every town and village had a sign in French and Catalan. 

Maz's new friend.

The owner was cleaning down the machinery that he had been using to produce the wines that that area of France is famous for, a sweet desert wine which the locals drink by the glass and although very sweet packs a punch as the alcohol level is very high. High alcohol comes from having high amounts of sugar in the grapes and high amounts of sugar come from the hot conditions that the region is known for. However after speaking to the owner, after tasting his refreshingly chilled wine, he said that the rise in temperatures due to climate change that they had experienced over the last 10 years was making it hard for anyone to produce a wine that they could sell.

Who came to sleep in Elsie too!

Once again we had a lovely evening and were joined by the owners huge Pyrenees Mountain Dog who thought he'd make himself at home inside the van (Elsie). We both slept well and after another run around the vineyards with the mountains looking down we made our way up and into them for the next few days of our trip. As we left Passa the roads became narrower, thankfully Elsie is only 5 meters long and not much wider than a standard road car so we could take the twisting and turning mountain passes which many of the other motorhomes would struggle to get up.

Pretty mountain villages

The road was clinging to the sides of the towering mountains like a ivy and the single road track was getting narrower and narrower as the road climbed steeper and steeper. A simple low wall was all that was stopping us, and the road, from falling down into the ravines which seemed to swallow up vast amounts of air and it was around a bend in one of these roads that we not only happened upon a tunnel cut into the rock where we weren't sure whether Elsie would fit but also an old man on an equally ancient looking tractor coming the other way.

The Pyrenees

I tentatively backed Elsie around the corner, careful not to misplace a wheel for fear of dropping off and never to be seen again. Maz opened the window to say a quick 'merci beaucoup' to the weather beaten farmer, he must have noted our UK number plates cheerfully replied, 'it's very touristic around here isn't it', not battering an eyelid as to the crazy situation we had just happened upon! 

The views were stunning and although we had travelled to the Italian Alps a few years ago we hadn't really experienced anything so remote in Europe before. Up and up we climbed and with each turn new vistas of mountain tops came into view. 

A walk around the lake

Our stop over was set on a large plateau and we stayed under the gaze of a winter ski resort alongside a ice cold stream which led to a lake which we walked around that evening before the stars came out to show themselves in all their glory.

Pitch under the ski slopes

That night was cold so we slept inside the van, rather than in the pop up tent, and after a quick run around the same lake that we'd walked around the evening before we boiled up some hot water for a shower. The night pitch didn't have any facilities so we used our porta potti which was now in need of emptying, and Maz collected the water we needed for our shower from the stream which seemed even colder that following morning, it certainly took longer to heat up for the shower which was already refreshing enough standing outside with the shower pump in the luke warm water held in the collapsible bucket!

Maz collecting mountain stream water
for our morning showers!

We made our slow way back down from the plateau on the slightly wider but no less steep road, passing cyclists coming up the other way, I don't think I pressed the accelerator pedal for around 45 minutes so just how long it was going to take those hardy cycling souls to reach anywhere resembling flat god only knows.

Not Tim's favourite job.

As we continued towards the Andorra border the roads grew even wider, with larger trucks jostling for position as they made our way to supply the needs of that small landlocked nation. In some places there was even a slow lane as the roads made their way through the higher peaks and where we could also spot a small mountain railway (one which my parents had travelled on their holiday to the Pyrenees last year) way down below deeper in the valley.

On the way to our next stop over we'd pulled into a local Aires (a municipal campervan site which normally charge a few Euros for you to stop over for the night) as we needed to use the drains to empty our Porta Potti, with all that sorted we arrived at a delightful little site, set up for campers, AirBnB and tents, we had full access to a shower with warm water, toilet and even a washing machine.  

An evening swim

Set in the hills around a small village called Dun we spoke to the owner, who not only ran the site but also lived there in a new home and produced jams and beers with her husband in their newly built kitchen complex, and she suggested a walk up and over a hill to a swimming spot in the local river. We didn't need a second invitation, the day was warm and the evenings were long and sunny so that sounded wonderful, the water was a perfect temperature for cooling off, even for me (Tim)!

During our walk we had skirted passed a wooded hill and I'd spotted a track going up into those woods so once I got back I checked my Strava and found that there indeed was a looped run which took in the hill so the next morning I got up before the sun rose too high in sky and attempted a segment which covered just over 1000 meters but gained over 180 meters in height on a slippy gravelly type trail. Once at the top the views across to the mountains was awe inspiring and I was so pleased to have bagged 7th place out of the 39 people who had recorded a time.

View from the top of my run

We were making our way across the foot of France now, Pyrenees to our left but with one eye on the roads that would head us back north as we had a couple of appointments to make on the way back to England and hanging around in the mountains wasn't going to enable us do complete those.

An idea of what I could see, twaz stunning

It was Saturday morning so we decided to make our leisurely way to Foix, a stunning and enchanting town sitting on the N20 (national motorway) and famous for its castle that dominates the town. We had hoped that we might make it before midday when most of the French markets close and arrived at around quarter only to find the stall holders packing up their wares, well that went well, not!

Part of the hydroelectric dam

Back on the road we travelled on the D177 towards our next destination which sounded much more appealing than it actually was, who could resist a visit to 'Pointis-de-Riviere', when we arrived at our hosts home we found out that the site could only bae accessed through a rubble pile which was a result of half of an house which used to home over 100 old age pensioners being knocked down and  the rest was now being used as a duck farm where they produced foie gras, not the best result for a couple of plant based eaters but we had committed to taste and buy at least one product at our France Passion stays.

Foie Gras anyone........?

The hosts couldn't have been more accommodating and invited us to use their swimming pool and were also keen for us to taste their produce!, in for a penny in for a pound, we held our noses and bought a couple of tins and gave them as a present to my (Tim's) Mum and Dad, we hope they enjoyed them more than we did.

The village was a little strange too but we did manage to find access to the river and had a walk along to find it dammed and channelled to a hydroelectric powerstation, why not use free power produced by the water that always flows towards the sea.

We swam in the pool and chilled out in the warm evening air, however our nights sleep was slightly interrupted by a group of youngsters who were carearing around the village on a noisy scooter with others spray painting the walls of the local basketball center. This was the only time we really lost sleep throughout the whole 54 nights that we spent in France so one shouldn't complain too much.

The last day of the week, or perhaps Sunday is the first day of the week, we made our way further north and west through a pretty city called Auch where we walked around the cathedral. The major part of the city was built on the hill and was stunning with a regal feel about it however we were keen to see the river but as we reached it we saw that the river Gers was a brownish greeny colour and not at all pretty or inviting. 

It felt as though the locals were embarrassed by it and we were certain that if it was a fast running river like the Loire or the Dordogne it would have been the center of attention with bars, clubs and restaurants lining its banks.

d'Artagnan and Tim

We did find and have a photo taken by the statue of the areas most famous son, Charles de Batz de Castelmore, who? we hear you ask, well you'll probably know him as the Musketeer more commonly known as d'Artagnan.

Our final stop of the week was another strange one, set on a vineyard in the rolling hills just north of Auch we found the place up a long drive and upon arriving had trouble raising anyone to show us to our parking spot. The guy who eventually greeted told us that he was unable to speak English but then regaled stories of French rugby triumphs over the English and informed us that we would have to move on as he didn't like the English.

Our strange last stop of the week.

Thankfully he was only joking, about us having to move on, and showed us to our spot which came complete with a dry toilet, basically a wooden shack with an open bucket to poop into then cover with sawdust to help break it down and keep the smell to a minimum.

We joined him for a tasting which took place in a grotto filled with books, trinkets and thankfully some wine, which wasn't great but we did begin to think that our taste buds much prefered the reds and even whites that were produced further south in the Corbieres region.

After a very peaceful sleep, no noise at all, just the chatter of some red squirrels which we spotted for the first time on the trip, they are so small, and our firm friends the green woodpeckers to keep us company we made our way further north towards new friends and new adventures but that can keep for another day!