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!