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Home again, back to the routine, raking leaves etc etc
Friday, 23 October 2009
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Tuesday 20th October 2009
Milestone Caravan Club Site (Cromwell near Newark)
The day starts exactly as forecast, high cloud with a little bit of blue sky, and cold.
After breakfast and a leisurely sit around reading the newspaper, we set off to follow the cycle ride on the second map we have been loaned, this is to take us to Newark.
The first 1.5 miles are on a cycle track alongside the A1. This is not very pleasant, while it is safe enough, the traffic noise is loud and constant. But soon we are on a small quiet road which passes through the villages of North Muskham and South Muskham, before we join another cycle track which brings us to Newark.
We park our bicycles beside the river. We notice there is a cycle ride signposted along the river at this point and decide we may follow it later (in the event this is not to be).
We visit Newark Castle, ruined when the Royalists defending it were ordered to surrender by Charles I on his capture, and the Roundheads then destroyed most of the Castle by blowing it up, (seems a bit petty). This was followed by years of the local population helping themselves to the fine stone to build their own houses, until now all that remains are the least accessible bits.
The Castle grounds also house the Tourist Information building, for those of you who may visit, there are toilets here, but Kathleen was disgusted to find they cost 20p for a p, so to speak, so be warned.
We retire to the old Buttermarket building. The building itself is quiet beautiful, but the collection of rather “twee” shops inside and the number of
empty units is disappointing. There are however two highlights:
On the upper floor there is a coffee shop, selling enormous portions of excellent cake. I had warm Plum Bread and butter (two thick slices), while Kathleen had an huge piece of carrot cake which I had to help her to finish (I am all heart in that way).
There are free toilets.
When we emerge from the Buttermarket, suitably stuffed with cake, we find it has begun to rain. This puts and end to any notion of cycling along the river, so instead we cycle back to Cromwell, arriving quite damp after our 12 mile round trip.
I think this has put paid to “the nice young man in reception”, he told us, that whilst it may be overcast today, it was not going to rain. While Kathleen may forgive him for giving us yesterdays route over fields, nettles and fences, I know there is no way he will get away with causing her to get her hair wet!
The day starts exactly as forecast, high cloud with a little bit of blue sky, and cold.
After breakfast and a leisurely sit around reading the newspaper, we set off to follow the cycle ride on the second map we have been loaned, this is to take us to Newark.
The first 1.5 miles are on a cycle track alongside the A1. This is not very pleasant, while it is safe enough, the traffic noise is loud and constant. But soon we are on a small quiet road which passes through the villages of North Muskham and South Muskham, before we join another cycle track which brings us to Newark.
We park our bicycles beside the river. We notice there is a cycle ride signposted along the river at this point and decide we may follow it later (in the event this is not to be).
We visit Newark Castle, ruined when the Royalists defending it were ordered to surrender by Charles I on his capture, and the Roundheads then destroyed most of the Castle by blowing it up, (seems a bit petty). This was followed by years of the local population helping themselves to the fine stone to build their own houses, until now all that remains are the least accessible bits.
The Castle grounds also house the Tourist Information building, for those of you who may visit, there are toilets here, but Kathleen was disgusted to find they cost 20p for a p, so to speak, so be warned.
We retire to the old Buttermarket building. The building itself is quiet beautiful, but the collection of rather “twee” shops inside and the number of
empty units is disappointing. There are however two highlights:On the upper floor there is a coffee shop, selling enormous portions of excellent cake. I had warm Plum Bread and butter (two thick slices), while Kathleen had an huge piece of carrot cake which I had to help her to finish (I am all heart in that way).
There are free toilets.
When we emerge from the Buttermarket, suitably stuffed with cake, we find it has begun to rain. This puts and end to any notion of cycling along the river, so instead we cycle back to Cromwell, arriving quite damp after our 12 mile round trip.
I think this has put paid to “the nice young man in reception”, he told us, that whilst it may be overcast today, it was not going to rain. While Kathleen may forgive him for giving us yesterdays route over fields, nettles and fences, I know there is no way he will get away with causing her to get her hair wet!
Monday, 19 October 2009
Monday 19th October 2009
Milestone Caravan Club Site (Cromwell near Newark)
We leave Burford after a very enjoyable few days and head for another Caravan Club site near Newark. The bright sunny weather continues.
We arrive at about 13:00, first thing to do after plugging in etc is to have lunch.
The village of Cromwell is just off the A1, but the site is so well landscaped that you cannot see the road, and can only very oc
casionally hear the hum of traffic. We choose a pitch overlooking one of the fishing lakes on the site, complete with a collection of ducks swimming on it.
After lunch, Kathleen returns to reception to let them know which pitch we have chosen, and while there the “nice young man in reception” loans her two laminated OS map sections with local bicycle rides. One route heads south to Newark, the other north along the river Trent, we decide to save the Newark ride for tomorrow (weather permitting).
We set off to do the ride, which takes us along a small road with a bridge over the A1, to the River Trent at Cromwell Lock, and then follows the winding river north to Carlton-on-Trent. The distance to Carlton is about 5 miles, and it is mostly flat, but the tarmac runs out after about two miles, after that we ride through fields. At some points it is so bumpy we are forced to walk, and finally we come to a gate which is surrounded by nettles and is locked. I lift both bikes over the fence, and trample down the nettles so that Kathleen can walk to the fence and climb over it (very elegantly). We ride across another field, before emerging at the church in Carlton-on-Trent.
Regular readers may recall, that Kathleen does not like cycle rides which involve riding along rough tracks, nettles or climbing over fences, but not a word of complaint passes her lips. Now if I had selected this route there would have been none stop complaining, but because we have a map from “the nice young man in reception”, all is well.
We explore Carlton, but there is no pub, we ask directions of a group of people chatting in the main street, and are directed to “The Lord Nelson”, in Sutton-on-Trent, about 1.5miles away. We cycle along the cycle track (called Carlton Lane), and find the pub no problem.
Kathleen makes use of the toilets, (the Gents as it happens since she miss-read the signs), and then we settle down for a drink and a study of the map to find our way back without returning via the obstacle course which we followed to get here. We pick out a route via small and quiet roads which bring us in a nice little circle to return to the site after covering a nice 14 miles.
We leave Burford after a very enjoyable few days and head for another Caravan Club site near Newark. The bright sunny weather continues.
We arrive at about 13:00, first thing to do after plugging in etc is to have lunch.
The village of Cromwell is just off the A1, but the site is so well landscaped that you cannot see the road, and can only very oc
casionally hear the hum of traffic. We choose a pitch overlooking one of the fishing lakes on the site, complete with a collection of ducks swimming on it.After lunch, Kathleen returns to reception to let them know which pitch we have chosen, and while there the “nice young man in reception” loans her two laminated OS map sections with local bicycle rides. One route heads south to Newark, the other north along the river Trent, we decide to save the Newark ride for tomorrow (weather permitting).
We set off to do the ride, which takes us along a small road with a bridge over the A1, to the River Trent at Cromwell Lock, and then follows the winding river north to Carlton-on-Trent. The distance to Carlton is about 5 miles, and it is mostly flat, but the tarmac runs out after about two miles, after that we ride through fields. At some points it is so bumpy we are forced to walk, and finally we come to a gate which is surrounded by nettles and is locked. I lift both bikes over the fence, and trample down the nettles so that Kathleen can walk to the fence and climb over it (very elegantly). We ride across another field, before emerging at the church in Carlton-on-Trent.
Regular readers may recall, that Kathleen does not like cycle rides which involve riding along rough tracks, nettles or climbing over fences, but not a word of complaint passes her lips. Now if I had selected this route there would have been none stop complaining, but because we have a map from “the nice young man in reception”, all is well.
We explore Carlton, but there is no pub, we ask directions of a group of people chatting in the main street, and are directed to “The Lord Nelson”, in Sutton-on-Trent, about 1.5miles away. We cycle along the cycle track (called Carlton Lane), and find the pub no problem.
Kathleen makes use of the toilets, (the Gents as it happens since she miss-read the signs), and then we settle down for a drink and a study of the map to find our way back without returning via the obstacle course which we followed to get here. We pick out a route via small and quiet roads which bring us in a nice little circle to return to the site after covering a nice 14 miles.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Sunday 18th October 2009
Burford Caravan Club Site
Another dry and cold day, with watery October sunshine.
Given that it is Sunday, cycle into Burford, and Kathleen attends the Catholic Church there. I stroll around the village and select a suitable pub for Sunday lunch. I choose “The Cotswolds Inn”, not my best choice, it is OK, but not memorable. When we arrive it is quiet, but then (literally) a busload of people pile in. We learn from a Canadian couple who sit at the next table to us, that they are on a whistle stop tour from London. They all eat and run, to have a quick look around Burford, and peace returns as we enjoy our pudding and coffee.
Then it is the usual end to a Sunday afternoon, cycle back to the van in the late autumn sunshine, and laze about. Kathleen begins scanning the books and maps looking for our next years destination, Germany is looking popular.
Another dry and cold day, with watery October sunshine.
Given that it is Sunday, cycle into Burford, and Kathleen attends the Catholic Church there. I stroll around the village and select a suitable pub for Sunday lunch. I choose “The Cotswolds Inn”, not my best choice, it is OK, but not memorable. When we arrive it is quiet, but then (literally) a busload of people pile in. We learn from a Canadian couple who sit at the next table to us, that they are on a whistle stop tour from London. They all eat and run, to have a quick look around Burford, and peace returns as we enjoy our pudding and coffee.
Then it is the usual end to a Sunday afternoon, cycle back to the van in the late autumn sunshine, and laze about. Kathleen begins scanning the books and maps looking for our next years destination, Germany is looking popular.
Saturday, 17 October 2009
Saturday 17th October 2009
Burford Caravan Club Site
Today is more like October in England, sunny, but a bit crisp.
We have a leisurely breakfast, then get out the bikes and cycle along the small road from the site in the opposite direction to which we went yesterday, heading for a place called Carterton. We first pass through the small but pretty village of Shilton. Shortly after that we come to the B4020 which we had expected be a quiet road, but which in the event was quite busy. Fortunately there is a bridleway, which, we can see from our 30p map, will take us to Caterton by a slightly longer route, but traffic free. Kathleen grumbles slightly as we cycle along the bridleway on the basis that it is bumpy, has a few narrow bits with nettles, and is slightly muddy in places, but I have no difficulty in taking no notice.
We arrive in Caterton, which is a bit disappointing; it is a sort of MOD village, presumably built to accommodate people from the nearby airbase, very missable. We consult our map, and decide to do a circle back to Burford to have a coffee etc. It is looking good, I can see that the proposed route has promise, it passes not a single village, so not a shop in sight, and from Kathleen’s viewpoint it does not involve the bridleway we took to get here.
We peddle along a tarmac, but traffic free roadway, to emerge onto a small road. According to my reading of the map, exactly as it should be. Kathleen does not trust my map reading and decides to ask the driver of a Reliant Robin, which is parked by the road side. It turns out he is lost (even though he has a Tomtom!), so we end up giving him directions. Actually the road we have emerged onto is called Burford Road, a bit of a clue I would think. We cycle off along the road, and eventually emerge on the A40, so far so good. The road we need to take is about 20 yards on our left, on the other side of the A40. We opt to cross the road and walk along the grass verge rather than dice with the traffic. We then coast down a long hill, to the River Windrush, which we then follow to Burford.
We park the bikes and head for the coffee shop, Kathleen has her cream tea, which she has been planning since we left the van this morning. I opt for what is described as “rich fruit and nut cake”, in place of the cream scone. The cake is delicious, but would have been better if it had been twice as big.
We head back to where we have left the bikes, Kathleen spots a sign for a “Shoe Sale”, so despite my careful route planning, we still end up in a shop. The good news is that she got a pair of “fashion” boots for only £29-99. Since I had said I would buy her boots, and I was expecting to have to pay about £80, I suppose I should be grateful.
We cycle back to the van, via the quiet little road we used yesterday. We have done 16 miles, Kathleen has (hardly) complained about the hills, or the bumps or the nettles or the mud, and has now acquired the full outfit (ie skirt, jeans, two blouses, jumper and boots), so she is happy. Her justification is that she has not had any new clothes for “years”, I think it more like three weeks. I have enjoyed my fruit cake, and, according to womens logic, have “saved” £50, (but since I have actually spent £29-99 I will have to think about this) so I am happy.
Today is more like October in England, sunny, but a bit crisp.
We have a leisurely breakfast, then get out the bikes and cycle along the small road from the site in the opposite direction to which we went yesterday, heading for a place called Carterton. We first pass through the small but pretty village of Shilton. Shortly after that we come to the B4020 which we had expected be a quiet road, but which in the event was quite busy. Fortunately there is a bridleway, which, we can see from our 30p map, will take us to Caterton by a slightly longer route, but traffic free. Kathleen grumbles slightly as we cycle along the bridleway on the basis that it is bumpy, has a few narrow bits with nettles, and is slightly muddy in places, but I have no difficulty in taking no notice.
We arrive in Caterton, which is a bit disappointing; it is a sort of MOD village, presumably built to accommodate people from the nearby airbase, very missable. We consult our map, and decide to do a circle back to Burford to have a coffee etc. It is looking good, I can see that the proposed route has promise, it passes not a single village, so not a shop in sight, and from Kathleen’s viewpoint it does not involve the bridleway we took to get here.
We peddle along a tarmac, but traffic free roadway, to emerge onto a small road. According to my reading of the map, exactly as it should be. Kathleen does not trust my map reading and decides to ask the driver of a Reliant Robin, which is parked by the road side. It turns out he is lost (even though he has a Tomtom!), so we end up giving him directions. Actually the road we have emerged onto is called Burford Road, a bit of a clue I would think. We cycle off along the road, and eventually emerge on the A40, so far so good. The road we need to take is about 20 yards on our left, on the other side of the A40. We opt to cross the road and walk along the grass verge rather than dice with the traffic. We then coast down a long hill, to the River Windrush, which we then follow to Burford.
We park the bikes and head for the coffee shop, Kathleen has her cream tea, which she has been planning since we left the van this morning. I opt for what is described as “rich fruit and nut cake”, in place of the cream scone. The cake is delicious, but would have been better if it had been twice as big.
We head back to where we have left the bikes, Kathleen spots a sign for a “Shoe Sale”, so despite my careful route planning, we still end up in a shop. The good news is that she got a pair of “fashion” boots for only £29-99. Since I had said I would buy her boots, and I was expecting to have to pay about £80, I suppose I should be grateful.
We cycle back to the van, via the quiet little road we used yesterday. We have done 16 miles, Kathleen has (hardly) complained about the hills, or the bumps or the nettles or the mud, and has now acquired the full outfit (ie skirt, jeans, two blouses, jumper and boots), so she is happy. Her justification is that she has not had any new clothes for “years”, I think it more like three weeks. I have enjoyed my fruit cake, and, according to womens logic, have “saved” £50, (but since I have actually spent £29-99 I will have to think about this) so I am happy.
Friday 16th October 2009
Burford Caravan Club Site
It suddenly occurred to me, that many people might not know where Burford is (I didn’t), well it is in the Cotswolds at the junction of the A40 and A361, about 10 miles from Bourton-in-the-Water. A very pretty area in a sort of chocolate box English way.
Today started as yesterday finished, dull and drizzly, but by 11:00 it had all cleared and the sun was shining again.
It does tell you in the site literature that we are near RAF Brize-Norton here, well as the day cleared it became apparent that we are very near, since for several hours huge RAF transport planes passed overhead. They are not noisy, just a bit disconcerting as you peddle along a country road and they pass overhead at just a low level. It must be the approach to the airfield, since they are not making much noise. At first we thought it must be a series of aircraft coming in to land, but given the state of the nation’s finances, it occurred to me that we cannot possibly have that many transport aircraft, so I think it must be pilots learning to take off and land and just doing circuits of the airfield. Did not spot any “L” plates however.
After lunch we cycled to Burford village. The object being to buy some mushrooms, and to find the Catholic church which Google told us was there. It is about two miles via the A361, but that is a busy road with no cycle track, so we took the scenic route using a map we bought from reception. This was 5 miles via a couple of other small villages, but nice and quiet, and almost flat.
Burford is on a hill, and the Catholic Church is at the top of the hill. We cycled past it without seeing it and did not realise until we had reached the bottom of the hill. I offered to push the bikes back to the top of the hill, whilst Kathleen wandered the usual collection of shops selling overpriced tourist stuff. What is it with women and shops?, even pushing two bikes up a steep hill is preferable to looking at more shops when you know you are not going to buy any of the stuff.
I park the bikes at the top of the hill, and find the church, then wander back down the hill checking out the pubs and coffee shops on the way. When I find Kathleen again we go into “The Mermaid” pub and have a couple of drinks. There is a real log fire burning, one of the old regulars appears to be in charge of it and heaps logs onto it as if there was six feet of snow outside. Since he and his pals are discussing where they want to be buried or cremated (when the time comes), we conclude he is auditioning for a place down below.
After the pub we find what appears to be the only “real” shop in the village (ie one selling food, beer and wine) and buy our mushrooms, before heading back to the van.
It suddenly occurred to me, that many people might not know where Burford is (I didn’t), well it is in the Cotswolds at the junction of the A40 and A361, about 10 miles from Bourton-in-the-Water. A very pretty area in a sort of chocolate box English way.
Today started as yesterday finished, dull and drizzly, but by 11:00 it had all cleared and the sun was shining again.
It does tell you in the site literature that we are near RAF Brize-Norton here, well as the day cleared it became apparent that we are very near, since for several hours huge RAF transport planes passed overhead. They are not noisy, just a bit disconcerting as you peddle along a country road and they pass overhead at just a low level. It must be the approach to the airfield, since they are not making much noise. At first we thought it must be a series of aircraft coming in to land, but given the state of the nation’s finances, it occurred to me that we cannot possibly have that many transport aircraft, so I think it must be pilots learning to take off and land and just doing circuits of the airfield. Did not spot any “L” plates however.
After lunch we cycled to Burford village. The object being to buy some mushrooms, and to find the Catholic church which Google told us was there. It is about two miles via the A361, but that is a busy road with no cycle track, so we took the scenic route using a map we bought from reception. This was 5 miles via a couple of other small villages, but nice and quiet, and almost flat.
Burford is on a hill, and the Catholic Church is at the top of the hill. We cycled past it without seeing it and did not realise until we had reached the bottom of the hill. I offered to push the bikes back to the top of the hill, whilst Kathleen wandered the usual collection of shops selling overpriced tourist stuff. What is it with women and shops?, even pushing two bikes up a steep hill is preferable to looking at more shops when you know you are not going to buy any of the stuff.
I park the bikes at the top of the hill, and find the church, then wander back down the hill checking out the pubs and coffee shops on the way. When I find Kathleen again we go into “The Mermaid” pub and have a couple of drinks. There is a real log fire burning, one of the old regulars appears to be in charge of it and heaps logs onto it as if there was six feet of snow outside. Since he and his pals are discussing where they want to be buried or cremated (when the time comes), we conclude he is auditioning for a place down below.
After the pub we find what appears to be the only “real” shop in the village (ie one selling food, beer and wine) and buy our mushrooms, before heading back to the van.
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Thursday 15th October 2009
Burford Caravan Club Site
A short one today, becuse we have been travelling most of the day.
Today has not been too successful. We planned to go to the New Forest and stay at the Black Knowl Caravan Club Site, near Brockenhurst. We checked the website and it said it was full, but we have learned from experience that the website is seldom accurate, so we went anyway. Unfortunately when we got there it was full. Not actually full, but the vacant pitches were booked. The warden checked the other Caravan Club site in the New Forest (Bransgore), same story. So we decided to cut our losses and head for Cirencester, but same story there. According to the warden at all three sites, what happens is that people book sites “just in case”, but then fail to turn up. Since there is no penalty for not turning up, it seems fair game if you are selfish individual.
So we ended up at Burford, which is fine, but it is not in the New Forest.
Weather is damp, but we are told the forecast for tomorrow and the weekend is good.
A short one today, becuse we have been travelling most of the day.
Today has not been too successful. We planned to go to the New Forest and stay at the Black Knowl Caravan Club Site, near Brockenhurst. We checked the website and it said it was full, but we have learned from experience that the website is seldom accurate, so we went anyway. Unfortunately when we got there it was full. Not actually full, but the vacant pitches were booked. The warden checked the other Caravan Club site in the New Forest (Bransgore), same story. So we decided to cut our losses and head for Cirencester, but same story there. According to the warden at all three sites, what happens is that people book sites “just in case”, but then fail to turn up. Since there is no penalty for not turning up, it seems fair game if you are selfish individual.
So we ended up at Burford, which is fine, but it is not in the New Forest.
Weather is damp, but we are told the forecast for tomorrow and the weekend is good.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Wednesday 14th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
Overnight rain gives way to an overcast morning. So we decide to go to Chichester on the bus.
According to the timetable, the number 700 bus runs from Brighton, via Worthing, Littlehampton, Bognor Regis, Chichester and on to Portsmouth. But it also goes to Arundel, which is not on the previous route. We eventually learn it is actually two different routes, from the same company (Stagecoach), with the same number. Confusing or what? But it is free, to us “oldies”.
So first of all we walk to the bus stop just outside the site to get the 700 into Littlehampton. As we wait an elderly couple arrive to wait too. His ears are already bleeding and he sits quietly, whilst his wife engages Kathleen in conversation. Well Kathleen listens and she talks. She is a good talker, I reckon she could hold her own at the round table.
We arrive at Littlehampton and find the correct place to catch the 700 to Chichester. It turns out we have just missed the bus (which runs every 30 minutes) by about 3 minutes. We settle down to wait. Amazingly, since we Northerners are always told that we are friendly and that Southerners are “stand offish”, we are engaged in conversation by an old chap who is also waiting for the bus.
He keeps us entertained for the half hour or so we have to wait. He is a regular Alf Garnett. We learn that he does not trust any of the politicians, dislikes Gordon Brown, detests Tony Blair and Cherie, and as for Lord Mandelson, (that snake eyed b*****d he calls him), don’t even go there. He has a good rant ranging from Tony Blair and the weapons of mass destruction, through MP’s expenses and the size of his council tax bill. Along the way we learn that he had emigrated to Australia and lived there for 26 years, that his children and grandchildren are still there. He gets his pension from the Australian government rather than the UK government and at present is enjoying a nice little rise as the pound plummets against the rest of the worlds major currencies. Quite why he came back to the UK to retire is not clear, since he tells us that Australia is the best country in the world, but we think it had something to do with his wife.
As we chat, a young woman arrives pushing a happy little negro child in a buggy. Our new friend exchanges a few pleasant words with them, and then tells me (and I quote), “these African babies are all happy little things, I think it is because they get carried about on their mothers back all day”, so he is obviously of the Bruce Forsyth school of Political Correctness.
The bus (a double decker) eventually arrives, about 15 minutes late, but it is free. By now there is a large queue, most of whom appear to be ancient and infirm, so we (as the “youngsters”) go upstairs, since I am sure the rest of the queue could not possibly make the stairs.
Forty minutes later, having had a tour of numerous small villages, we arrive in Chichester. The bus stops right beside the weekly market, so we wander through there, viewing the usual junk which all markets seem to sell. The highlight is a chap who is auctioning secondhand bicycles, most of them are in a deplorable condition and would not have cost more that £80 when brand new, but people are merrily parting with £20 for them.
It is lunch time, so our next port of call is a Coffee shop, which is also full of old people, where do th
ey all come from? I think our arrival has just reduced the average age by 10 years at least. We have a pleasant lunch on me, Kathleen conveniently has no cash to pay, since she needs to find a cash machine (I note she has not been looking very hard). Next some shopping, and more (womens) clothes are purchased, then an unsuccessful attempt to buy some (womens) boots. Finally a visit to the Cathedral, and it is time to go back to Littlehampton.
There is time for a hair washing, drying and straightening session, following which we enjoy a wonderful home cooked spag bol, and finish with the last of the Magnum’s.
Overnight rain gives way to an overcast morning. So we decide to go to Chichester on the bus.
According to the timetable, the number 700 bus runs from Brighton, via Worthing, Littlehampton, Bognor Regis, Chichester and on to Portsmouth. But it also goes to Arundel, which is not on the previous route. We eventually learn it is actually two different routes, from the same company (Stagecoach), with the same number. Confusing or what? But it is free, to us “oldies”.
So first of all we walk to the bus stop just outside the site to get the 700 into Littlehampton. As we wait an elderly couple arrive to wait too. His ears are already bleeding and he sits quietly, whilst his wife engages Kathleen in conversation. Well Kathleen listens and she talks. She is a good talker, I reckon she could hold her own at the round table.
We arrive at Littlehampton and find the correct place to catch the 700 to Chichester. It turns out we have just missed the bus (which runs every 30 minutes) by about 3 minutes. We settle down to wait. Amazingly, since we Northerners are always told that we are friendly and that Southerners are “stand offish”, we are engaged in conversation by an old chap who is also waiting for the bus.
He keeps us entertained for the half hour or so we have to wait. He is a regular Alf Garnett. We learn that he does not trust any of the politicians, dislikes Gordon Brown, detests Tony Blair and Cherie, and as for Lord Mandelson, (that snake eyed b*****d he calls him), don’t even go there. He has a good rant ranging from Tony Blair and the weapons of mass destruction, through MP’s expenses and the size of his council tax bill. Along the way we learn that he had emigrated to Australia and lived there for 26 years, that his children and grandchildren are still there. He gets his pension from the Australian government rather than the UK government and at present is enjoying a nice little rise as the pound plummets against the rest of the worlds major currencies. Quite why he came back to the UK to retire is not clear, since he tells us that Australia is the best country in the world, but we think it had something to do with his wife.
As we chat, a young woman arrives pushing a happy little negro child in a buggy. Our new friend exchanges a few pleasant words with them, and then tells me (and I quote), “these African babies are all happy little things, I think it is because they get carried about on their mothers back all day”, so he is obviously of the Bruce Forsyth school of Political Correctness.
The bus (a double decker) eventually arrives, about 15 minutes late, but it is free. By now there is a large queue, most of whom appear to be ancient and infirm, so we (as the “youngsters”) go upstairs, since I am sure the rest of the queue could not possibly make the stairs.
Forty minutes later, having had a tour of numerous small villages, we arrive in Chichester. The bus stops right beside the weekly market, so we wander through there, viewing the usual junk which all markets seem to sell. The highlight is a chap who is auctioning secondhand bicycles, most of them are in a deplorable condition and would not have cost more that £80 when brand new, but people are merrily parting with £20 for them.
It is lunch time, so our next port of call is a Coffee shop, which is also full of old people, where do th
ey all come from? I think our arrival has just reduced the average age by 10 years at least. We have a pleasant lunch on me, Kathleen conveniently has no cash to pay, since she needs to find a cash machine (I note she has not been looking very hard). Next some shopping, and more (womens) clothes are purchased, then an unsuccessful attempt to buy some (womens) boots. Finally a visit to the Cathedral, and it is time to go back to Littlehampton.There is time for a hair washing, drying and straightening session, following which we enjoy a wonderful home cooked spag bol, and finish with the last of the Magnum’s.
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Tuesday 13th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
Another beautiful sunny day, with temperature of 17C, this is just incredible for mid October in England!
We catch the bus to Littlehampton town-centre, then follow the walk recommended by the Tourist Information Office. It is supposed to be 4.5miles and takes you from the mouth of the river Arun, around the edge of the golf course, out to the (tiny) village of Climping and then back along the beach to where you started. Given the beautiful weather we have a great day, a picnic on the beach about half way around the walk, and a beer in Littlehampton when we finish, then on the bus to the campsite.
No photographs again, you know the reason why.
The remainder of the afternoon we spend sitting in the sun reading.
In the evening we visit the www.freerice.com web site to try and win more rice for the third world.
Another beautiful sunny day, with temperature of 17C, this is just incredible for mid October in England!
We catch the bus to Littlehampton town-centre, then follow the walk recommended by the Tourist Information Office. It is supposed to be 4.5miles and takes you from the mouth of the river Arun, around the edge of the golf course, out to the (tiny) village of Climping and then back along the beach to where you started. Given the beautiful weather we have a great day, a picnic on the beach about half way around the walk, and a beer in Littlehampton when we finish, then on the bus to the campsite.
No photographs again, you know the reason why.
The remainder of the afternoon we spend sitting in the sun reading.
In the evening we visit the www.freerice.com web site to try and win more rice for the third world.
Monday, 12 October 2009
Monday 12th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
First a little note to continue yesterdays blog. While reading the Sunday newspaper, I came across an article relating to a website apparently frequented by Stephen Fry. This site is www.freerice.com. The site is a quiz site asking questions on vocabulary, geography etc. For every question you answer correctly, ten grains of rice are donated to the third world. The rice is paid for by advertisers who use the site to promote their products. So we spent some of the evening answering questions and donated 500 grains of rice to the third world by getting 50 correct answers. That made us feel a bit better about pigging out on Sunday lunch.
Today the sun is back. We decide to cycle to Shoreham-by-the-Sea, using the map we obtained from Tourist Information. Unfortunately the map does not have distances and is not very detailed, so we are not sure we will make it all of the way there.
In the event we make it as far as Lancing, just beyond Worthing, which gives us a 26 mile round trip. We take a flask of coffee, and picnic so we can be out all, or most of the day. It is a beautiful day and we stop off a couple of times to just bask in the sun, plus a couple of lagers and an enormous Chelsea bun on our return to Littlehampton.
This 26 mile trip brings Kathleen’s total mileage, since she got her current bicycle, to 1010 miles, which pleased her enormously. We don't have any photographs to record this momentous occasion because the camera was not with us.
First a little note to continue yesterdays blog. While reading the Sunday newspaper, I came across an article relating to a website apparently frequented by Stephen Fry. This site is www.freerice.com. The site is a quiz site asking questions on vocabulary, geography etc. For every question you answer correctly, ten grains of rice are donated to the third world. The rice is paid for by advertisers who use the site to promote their products. So we spent some of the evening answering questions and donated 500 grains of rice to the third world by getting 50 correct answers. That made us feel a bit better about pigging out on Sunday lunch.
Today the sun is back. We decide to cycle to Shoreham-by-the-Sea, using the map we obtained from Tourist Information. Unfortunately the map does not have distances and is not very detailed, so we are not sure we will make it all of the way there.
In the event we make it as far as Lancing, just beyond Worthing, which gives us a 26 mile round trip. We take a flask of coffee, and picnic so we can be out all, or most of the day. It is a beautiful day and we stop off a couple of times to just bask in the sun, plus a couple of lagers and an enormous Chelsea bun on our return to Littlehampton.
This 26 mile trip brings Kathleen’s total mileage, since she got her current bicycle, to 1010 miles, which pleased her enormously. We don't have any photographs to record this momentous occasion because the camera was not with us.
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Sunday 11th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
Disappointingly, the weather forecast is wrong, instead of being another sunny day like yesterday, it is raining.
Fortunately the rain stops before it is time for Kathleen to go to church, but is does not reach the dizzy heights of the sun shinning on the righteous.
I do my usual and find a newsagents, buy a paper and settle down outside of the church for a good read. I just get started on how Alex Ferguson is about to get fined a few minutes earnings for criticising a referee, when someone turns up and starts talking to me. I must have one of those faces which makes people think I really want to talk to them, when in fact I just want to read the paper. My new Irish friend, Liam, is obviously here for the duration, so I reluctantly put my newspaper back in my bag and move into listening mode.
I am entertained for the next 45 minutes by Liam, who I learn:
is a builder
owns a few properties which he rents out
is a keen cyclist, having cycled 700 miles across the Pyrenees at 100 miles per day, and usually does the London to Brighton cycle ride
plays in a band, including gigs in Germany
I for my part give away that I am from Newcastle, which he could probably have deduced for himself.
Just before the end of mass, a fellow Irish man emerges from the church and the pair of them head off.
Kathleen appears and given that the weather is still not too good, we return to the van for coffee.
Shortly after 13:00, we head for the Six Bells pub, which has been highly recommended to us for its food, and where I have booked a table for 13:30.
The meal and wine are excellent, as usual I pig out on all three courses, while Kathleen settles for a main and a sweet.
What is left of the afternoon is spent lying about stuffed full and reading the Sunday paper, what bliss.
Disappointingly, the weather forecast is wrong, instead of being another sunny day like yesterday, it is raining.
Fortunately the rain stops before it is time for Kathleen to go to church, but is does not reach the dizzy heights of the sun shinning on the righteous.
I do my usual and find a newsagents, buy a paper and settle down outside of the church for a good read. I just get started on how Alex Ferguson is about to get fined a few minutes earnings for criticising a referee, when someone turns up and starts talking to me. I must have one of those faces which makes people think I really want to talk to them, when in fact I just want to read the paper. My new Irish friend, Liam, is obviously here for the duration, so I reluctantly put my newspaper back in my bag and move into listening mode.
I am entertained for the next 45 minutes by Liam, who I learn:
is a builder
owns a few properties which he rents out
is a keen cyclist, having cycled 700 miles across the Pyrenees at 100 miles per day, and usually does the London to Brighton cycle ride
plays in a band, including gigs in Germany
I for my part give away that I am from Newcastle, which he could probably have deduced for himself.
Just before the end of mass, a fellow Irish man emerges from the church and the pair of them head off.
Kathleen appears and given that the weather is still not too good, we return to the van for coffee.
Shortly after 13:00, we head for the Six Bells pub, which has been highly recommended to us for its food, and where I have booked a table for 13:30.
The meal and wine are excellent, as usual I pig out on all three courses, while Kathleen settles for a main and a sweet.
What is left of the afternoon is spent lying about stuffed full and reading the Sunday paper, what bliss.
Saturday, 10 October 2009
Saturday 10th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
Sunny and bright today.
First task is to find the Catholic Church. According to Google, the nearest is “Our Lady of the Sea” and is about 2.5 miles away. Google even provides a little map, but of course I have no printer. I can see that it is the same general direction as the Sainsbury Supermarket, which I went to yesterday, so I painstakingly sketch the relevant part of the map, and note the street and road names along the expected route.
We set off on our bicycles, not having looked at the map at all, Kathleen decides she knows best how to find the church and immediately deviates from my carefully prepared route. We still have not found “Our Lady of the Sea”, At the point when we were hopelessly lost in a 1960’s housing estate of cul-de-sacs, Kathleen asked directions of a passing woman (men never ask for directions, it’s a man thing) and was told there was in fact a nearer Catholic Church (St Catherines), which we duly found. This enabled Kathleen to say that she was right all along, and that both me and Google were wrong. You cannot argue with that.
Having cycled about 8 miles to find the church, which was about 2 miles away, we then headed for the tourist information office. Here a very helpful young lady gave us details of some walks, and a cycle route to Arundel, which did not involve any busy roads.
We cycled to Arundel, which is a very pretty place, with a large castle (built apparently by one of William the Conqueror’s Barons in 1069), and a Roman Catholic Cathedral which somehow seems to have escaped Henry VIII's attentions.
We enjoy an excellent lunch and cycle back to the site, 19.8 miles in total, including the search for the church, Kathleen is a trooper, not a word of complaint. The remainder of the afternoon we spend sitting in the sun and drinking beer.
Sunny and bright today.
First task is to find the Catholic Church. According to Google, the nearest is “Our Lady of the Sea” and is about 2.5 miles away. Google even provides a little map, but of course I have no printer. I can see that it is the same general direction as the Sainsbury Supermarket, which I went to yesterday, so I painstakingly sketch the relevant part of the map, and note the street and road names along the expected route.
We set off on our bicycles, not having looked at the map at all, Kathleen decides she knows best how to find the church and immediately deviates from my carefully prepared route. We still have not found “Our Lady of the Sea”, At the point when we were hopelessly lost in a 1960’s housing estate of cul-de-sacs, Kathleen asked directions of a passing woman (men never ask for directions, it’s a man thing) and was told there was in fact a nearer Catholic Church (St Catherines), which we duly found. This enabled Kathleen to say that she was right all along, and that both me and Google were wrong. You cannot argue with that.
Having cycled about 8 miles to find the church, which was about 2 miles away, we then headed for the tourist information office. Here a very helpful young lady gave us details of some walks, and a cycle route to Arundel, which did not involve any busy roads.
We cycled to Arundel, which is a very pretty place, with a large castle (built apparently by one of William the Conqueror’s Barons in 1069), and a Roman Catholic Cathedral which somehow seems to have escaped Henry VIII's attentions.
We enjoy an excellent lunch and cycle back to the site, 19.8 miles in total, including the search for the church, Kathleen is a trooper, not a word of complaint. The remainder of the afternoon we spend sitting in the sun and drinking beer.
Friday, 9 October 2009
Friday 9th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
Not wonderful weather this morning. It is mild, but windy and cloudy. The weather forecast says rain by lunch time.
I am delegated to find the Sainsbury supermarket and to buy one or two things we need, whilst Kathleen does the washing.
The internet comes in handy, I use the Sainsbury Store Finder site to find the nearest store, and even a map of how to get there. Of course the map shows the route if you are driving, and I need to adjust it a little, since I am cycling, and like to avoid major roads.
I find Sainsbury no problem, and in addition to the things we actually needed, get a special offer on wine, 3 * £8.99 bottles for £10, not bad and return at 11:30, just as the rain is starting to fall, a little early!
Given the weather we decide to get the bus into Arundel. Kathleen goes to the “Information Room” to check out bus times (20 to and 10 past the hour), but after lunch we sit around reading, doing the crossword etc, and before you know it, it is 14:45, which means the next available bus is 15:10. We decide to continue lazing about!
Not wonderful weather this morning. It is mild, but windy and cloudy. The weather forecast says rain by lunch time.
I am delegated to find the Sainsbury supermarket and to buy one or two things we need, whilst Kathleen does the washing.
The internet comes in handy, I use the Sainsbury Store Finder site to find the nearest store, and even a map of how to get there. Of course the map shows the route if you are driving, and I need to adjust it a little, since I am cycling, and like to avoid major roads.
I find Sainsbury no problem, and in addition to the things we actually needed, get a special offer on wine, 3 * £8.99 bottles for £10, not bad and return at 11:30, just as the rain is starting to fall, a little early!
Given the weather we decide to get the bus into Arundel. Kathleen goes to the “Information Room” to check out bus times (20 to and 10 past the hour), but after lunch we sit around reading, doing the crossword etc, and before you know it, it is 14:45, which means the next available bus is 15:10. We decide to continue lazing about!
Thursday, 8 October 2009
Thursday 8th October 2009
Littlehampton Caravan Club Site
Another sunny and mild morning greets us, can this really be October in England?
By 10:30 we are packed up and on our way, traffic is light, sun is shinning, life is good.
We arrive in Littlehampton just after 13:00. When we checked the Caravan Club website, it showed this site as fully booked for the coming weekend, with spaces only for tonight (Thursday). Even the Warden at the site is unable to book us in for the seven days we want because “the computer says it is fully booked”. What is the point in having such a useless system? Anyway, he tells us to just choose a spot and we all agree to ignore the computer system.
We have a cycle ride into Littlehampton, it is a typical English seaside resort, a bit faded grandeur. The beach is not nearly as good as South Shields, but there is no North Eat wind blowing off the sea!, so we sit and drink coffee on the “millennium riverside walk”, it is even warm enough to have ice cream, which I do of course.
Looks as if there will be plenty of things to keep us occupied here for a week, fingers crossed the weather holds up.
Another sunny and mild morning greets us, can this really be October in England?
By 10:30 we are packed up and on our way, traffic is light, sun is shinning, life is good.
We arrive in Littlehampton just after 13:00. When we checked the Caravan Club website, it showed this site as fully booked for the coming weekend, with spaces only for tonight (Thursday). Even the Warden at the site is unable to book us in for the seven days we want because “the computer says it is fully booked”. What is the point in having such a useless system? Anyway, he tells us to just choose a spot and we all agree to ignore the computer system.
We have a cycle ride into Littlehampton, it is a typical English seaside resort, a bit faded grandeur. The beach is not nearly as good as South Shields, but there is no North Eat wind blowing off the sea!, so we sit and drink coffee on the “millennium riverside walk”, it is even warm enough to have ice cream, which I do of course.
Looks as if there will be plenty of things to keep us occupied here for a week, fingers crossed the weather holds up.
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Wednesday 7th October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
Last night (during the night) it poured with rain, but the morning starts bright and sunny. Kathleen feeds the ducks as has become her routine here, and then it is hair washing day, so not much will be done this morning.
After lunch, we take a walk along the River Ouse and return via Godmanchester Common, calling at the Axe & Compass for a drink.
Last night (during the night) it poured with rain, but the morning starts bright and sunny. Kathleen feeds the ducks as has become her routine here, and then it is hair washing day, so not much will be done this morning.
After lunch, we take a walk along the River Ouse and return via Godmanchester Common, calling at the Axe & Compass for a drink.
Tuesday 6th October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
It is my birthday, but it is raining!.
We have a leisurely breakfast and I open my cards etc, I am even excused from washing the dishes.
Given the weather we decide to take the bus to Cambridge (about 15 miles away). Once there the rain stops and the sun emerges.
We have a pleasant day wandering around Cambridge, the highlights for me are a pleasant lunch in Pret a Manger, and a trip in a punt along the River Cam. We could have had some nice photographs on the river, but the person in charge of the camera forgot to bring it along today. Kathleen enjoys herself spending an unexpected little windfall from interest payments on an account she had forgotten about, acquiring a pair of jeans, skirt and two blouses.
I have a wonderful business idea as I sit waiting outside the changing room. Why not have a store, stacked with “bargains”, where women could shop until they drop, but instead of having to all that tedious carrying the stuff home, at the checkout, they just put it in a charity bag for you and dump it at the front door. I think it could be a winner.
In the evening we walk to the “Three Jolly Butchers” pub in the village it is unbelievably mild, we do not even have to wear coats. We enjoy a super meal. Kathleen is her usual restrained self, sticking to two courses, but I go the full hog.
It is my birthday, but it is raining!.
We have a leisurely breakfast and I open my cards etc, I am even excused from washing the dishes.
Given the weather we decide to take the bus to Cambridge (about 15 miles away). Once there the rain stops and the sun emerges.
We have a pleasant day wandering around Cambridge, the highlights for me are a pleasant lunch in Pret a Manger, and a trip in a punt along the River Cam. We could have had some nice photographs on the river, but the person in charge of the camera forgot to bring it along today. Kathleen enjoys herself spending an unexpected little windfall from interest payments on an account she had forgotten about, acquiring a pair of jeans, skirt and two blouses.
I have a wonderful business idea as I sit waiting outside the changing room. Why not have a store, stacked with “bargains”, where women could shop until they drop, but instead of having to all that tedious carrying the stuff home, at the checkout, they just put it in a charity bag for you and dump it at the front door. I think it could be a winner.
In the evening we walk to the “Three Jolly Butchers” pub in the village it is unbelievably mild, we do not even have to wear coats. We enjoy a super meal. Kathleen is her usual restrained self, sticking to two courses, but I go the full hog.
Monday 5th October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
Not such a nice day today, dry but overcast. You cannot expect wall to wall sunshine in England at any time, but in October, definitely not.
We have been away long enough now to have built up a collection of washing, but one of the little rules here is no washing lines, so it is decide that we will go into Huntingdon on our bikes, and visit one of Kathleen’s favourite shops (Wilkinsons), to buy a clothes drier thing that we can hang on the van.
Off we go, across Godmanchester common, to Godmanchester then Huntingdon, a wasted trip since Wilkinsons are out of stock of clothes drier things, but we buy the ingredients for the Moroccan Chicken dish I am planning for tonight, so all is not lost.
On our way back we get a brief spell of sunshine and explore Godmanchester a little, another lovely little backwater.
Not such a nice day today, dry but overcast. You cannot expect wall to wall sunshine in England at any time, but in October, definitely not.
We have been away long enough now to have built up a collection of washing, but one of the little rules here is no washing lines, so it is decide that we will go into Huntingdon on our bikes, and visit one of Kathleen’s favourite shops (Wilkinsons), to buy a clothes drier thing that we can hang on the van.
Off we go, across Godmanchester common, to Godmanchester then Huntingdon, a wasted trip since Wilkinsons are out of stock of clothes drier things, but we buy the ingredients for the Moroccan Chicken dish I am planning for tonight, so all is not lost.
On our way back we get a brief spell of sunshine and explore Godmanchester a little, another lovely little backwater.
Sunday 4th October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
The weather so far has been excellent, and Sunday dawns even better, brilliant sunshine, not a cloud in the sky and if the local radio is to be believed 18C. I have used the internet to check out the location of the nearest Catholic Church, so we peddle off to St Ives a couple of miles through the woods. While Kathleen does her duty at church, I read the Sunday paper, and then we to the riverside in St Ives for coffee and carrot cake. Followed by another pleasant walk to work it off!
The weather so far has been excellent, and Sunday dawns even better, brilliant sunshine, not a cloud in the sky and if the local radio is to be believed 18C. I have used the internet to check out the location of the nearest Catholic Church, so we peddle off to St Ives a couple of miles through the woods. While Kathleen does her duty at church, I read the Sunday paper, and then we to the riverside in St Ives for coffee and carrot cake. Followed by another pleasant walk to work it off!
Saturday 3rd October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
Kathleen cannot wait to make use of her “free” pensioners bus pass and we are told there is a good bus service from the village, so we walking into the village and take the bus to Huntingdon. Huntingdon has a good selection of shops, with a couple of supermarkets and even a Wilkinsons. I am irritated to find that the 3 Internet Dongle I have just bought in South Shields for £19.99 is only £17.99 here!. So Huntingdon is the nearest place for substantial shopping, but it is otherwise disappointing its old charm has been spoiled by shabby new developments. We even find a Greggs, where we have a sandwich lunch before returning to Houghton Mill.
After a bit of sitting reading the newspaper (what a hard life this is), we go for a walk along the river, for get some exercise for an hour.
Kathleen cannot wait to make use of her “free” pensioners bus pass and we are told there is a good bus service from the village, so we walking into the village and take the bus to Huntingdon. Huntingdon has a good selection of shops, with a couple of supermarkets and even a Wilkinsons. I am irritated to find that the 3 Internet Dongle I have just bought in South Shields for £19.99 is only £17.99 here!. So Huntingdon is the nearest place for substantial shopping, but it is otherwise disappointing its old charm has been spoiled by shabby new developments. We even find a Greggs, where we have a sandwich lunch before returning to Houghton Mill.
After a bit of sitting reading the newspaper (what a hard life this is), we go for a walk along the river, for get some exercise for an hour.
Friday 2nd October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
We choose a Sustrans, cycle ride. It is about 13 miles and is very a very pleasant ride with not a hill in sight. The weather continues to be fine and sunny, just right for peddling along and counting the squirrels we see. We pass by a working lock on the River Great Ouse, along a lane called “Common Lane” (which is anything but common, since it is lined with houses whose owners I am sure will not be voting for Mr Cable), and along a tarmac track across Godmanchester Common, skirt the edge of Godmanchester, then along the river to St Ives (a very pretty place) and then back to where we started.
We choose a Sustrans, cycle ride. It is about 13 miles and is very a very pleasant ride with not a hill in sight. The weather continues to be fine and sunny, just right for peddling along and counting the squirrels we see. We pass by a working lock on the River Great Ouse, along a lane called “Common Lane” (which is anything but common, since it is lined with houses whose owners I am sure will not be voting for Mr Cable), and along a tarmac track across Godmanchester Common, skirt the edge of Godmanchester, then along the river to St Ives (a very pretty place) and then back to where we started.
Thursday 1st October 2009
Houghton Mill near Huntingdon
Our departure from home is delayed because we forget the iPod (an essential part of our evening entertainment),, we did not realise this until we are on the A19 and passing the exit to Hartlepool. Yes, we do carefully make a check list of things to be picked, but of course making the list is only one part of the equation, you also have to use it whilst packing.
We arrive at Houghton Mill Caravan Club site at about 16:00, the weather is excellent for October, pleanty of autumn sunshine, initial impressions are favourable. It is the usual high CC standard, but with the added advantage of being fairly small and a bit less formal than some of the CC sites we have visited.
We spend the rest of the evening exploring, until it gets dark. The site is in the grounds of a National Trust owned working Water Mill, and it is only 5 minutes walk into the twin villages of Houghton and Wyrton, where there is an Alladins Cave type village shop, two pubs (the Three Jolly Butchers is the best one in our view) and more thatched cottages than I have ever seen in one place.
The friendly Warden loans us a file about two inches thick of cycle rides, walks and other “things to do and see”.
Our departure from home is delayed because we forget the iPod (an essential part of our evening entertainment),, we did not realise this until we are on the A19 and passing the exit to Hartlepool. Yes, we do carefully make a check list of things to be picked, but of course making the list is only one part of the equation, you also have to use it whilst packing.
We arrive at Houghton Mill Caravan Club site at about 16:00, the weather is excellent for October, pleanty of autumn sunshine, initial impressions are favourable. It is the usual high CC standard, but with the added advantage of being fairly small and a bit less formal than some of the CC sites we have visited.
We spend the rest of the evening exploring, until it gets dark. The site is in the grounds of a National Trust owned working Water Mill, and it is only 5 minutes walk into the twin villages of Houghton and Wyrton, where there is an Alladins Cave type village shop, two pubs (the Three Jolly Butchers is the best one in our view) and more thatched cottages than I have ever seen in one place.
The friendly Warden loans us a file about two inches thick of cycle rides, walks and other “things to do and see”.
Friday, 3 July 2009
Wednesday 1st July 2009
Home
I make the mistake of suggesting to Kathleen last night, that today we should just drive to the ferry port at Calais and see if we can get on a ferry today. If not we can follow plan B and stay at the Calais Aire or drive to Guinnes just a few miles from Calais. This will suit both of us really, since I know Kathleen is anxious to see the new grandson, Daniel, and I am anxious to ensure I see Gary & Susana before the depart to Houston.
But Kathleen is so enthusiastic, she is out of bed at 06:00 in the morning, this is the earliest she has been out of bed by at least 3 hours for the past 12 weeks! She of course makes enough noise clattering around that although I hold out until 06:30 I am eventually forced to get up too. I should have waited until this morning to make my suggestion.
The journey is uneventful, in her enthusiasm to ensure we get to Calais promptly, she even directs me onto the toll section of motorway and pays the toll.
We are in for an unpleasant surprise when we get to the ferry check in, at about 10:00. We have a return ticket for tomorrow at 09:20 (which cost £75), and based on previous experience with Sea France and Norfolk Line, we would expect to be charged an extra £10-£15 to switch. Wrong!. This time we are travelling with P&O and they want a whopping £65 to allow us to switch. Now I could understand this if we were switching from a really off peak time (like 02:00 in the morning) to a peak time, but we aren’t. Anyway we grudgingly pay up, and resolve not to use P&O again ever!
We stop off for a very pleasant lunch at a small pub just off the M11, and arrive home at 20:00 all we have to do now is unload the wine we have brought back with us, hopefully enough so that we will not have to buy any at UK inflated prices!
Finally now that we are home, and I have access to the lead which someone forgot to pack (plus I thanks to Andy's sterling efforts, the garden looks superb, so I will not have to spend the enxt few days weeding and tidying), I will try and upload some photographs so that you can see the sort of places we visited, so keep watching.
.
I make the mistake of suggesting to Kathleen last night, that today we should just drive to the ferry port at Calais and see if we can get on a ferry today. If not we can follow plan B and stay at the Calais Aire or drive to Guinnes just a few miles from Calais. This will suit both of us really, since I know Kathleen is anxious to see the new grandson, Daniel, and I am anxious to ensure I see Gary & Susana before the depart to Houston.
But Kathleen is so enthusiastic, she is out of bed at 06:00 in the morning, this is the earliest she has been out of bed by at least 3 hours for the past 12 weeks! She of course makes enough noise clattering around that although I hold out until 06:30 I am eventually forced to get up too. I should have waited until this morning to make my suggestion.
The journey is uneventful, in her enthusiasm to ensure we get to Calais promptly, she even directs me onto the toll section of motorway and pays the toll.
We are in for an unpleasant surprise when we get to the ferry check in, at about 10:00. We have a return ticket for tomorrow at 09:20 (which cost £75), and based on previous experience with Sea France and Norfolk Line, we would expect to be charged an extra £10-£15 to switch. Wrong!. This time we are travelling with P&O and they want a whopping £65 to allow us to switch. Now I could understand this if we were switching from a really off peak time (like 02:00 in the morning) to a peak time, but we aren’t. Anyway we grudgingly pay up, and resolve not to use P&O again ever!
We stop off for a very pleasant lunch at a small pub just off the M11, and arrive home at 20:00 all we have to do now is unload the wine we have brought back with us, hopefully enough so that we will not have to buy any at UK inflated prices!
Finally now that we are home, and I have access to the lead which someone forgot to pack (plus I thanks to Andy's sterling efforts, the garden looks superb, so I will not have to spend the enxt few days weeding and tidying), I will try and upload some photographs so that you can see the sort of places we visited, so keep watching.
.
Monday 29th June 2009 – Tuesday 30th June 2009
Sainte Claire, Neufchatel-en-Bray (ACSI2009-728) N49.73781 E1.42803We return to one of our old favourites. This is one of the first sites we stayed on when we began the campervan journeys, and we have returned at least once each year since I think.
Just to show anyone who is concerned about driving here, this is a shot through the windscreen as we drive along, this is typical of traffic levels even during the day.
The site is beautifully kept, and the chap who runs it always takes you to your pitch and guides you onto the hard standing so that you don’t damage his grass, which he obviously cares for very carefully. We have been here so often now that one of the French families who have a static van here, recognise us on our arrival.
The site is much busier than we have seen it before, and for once I would say the GB’ers out number the Dutch and Germans, we will have to stop recommending it to people, otherwise we will not be able to get on ourselves!
After we get settled and have our lunch, we are just about to set off along the cycle track (in preparation for eating cream cakes for afters), when the David and Carol the Welsh couple from the previous site arrive.
From here there is a cycle track which goes in one direction to Dieppe (about 20 miles away), and in the other direction to Forges-les-Eaux (about 13 miles away). Dieppe is on the coast, so overall going there must be downhill there and uphill back, while Forges-les-Eaux is inland so it must be uphill on the way there and downhill on the way back. On previous visits here it has always been my intention to cycle both routes. But Kathleen has always wimped out after a few miles. So on the first day, we set off for Forges-les-Eaux, and (someone) wimps out after about 8 miles. To be fair we set off at about 15:00, so we had the heat of the day to deal with and it was hot (30C).
In the evening Kathleen gets out the guitar, but the singing is cut short by our French neighbour, who informs us that she has just been informed today that her nephew has committed suicide by driving his mother car into a wall. So she is understandably upset and having difficulty with being surrounded by revelry from us and our English neighbours. Kathleen stops immediately and we try our best in our inadequate French to be apologetic and sympathetic.
It turns out that two of our English neighbours Jack and Joan are from the north east, Joan from South Shields and Jack from Boldon Colliery, although they now live in South Shields, they are on their way to Costa Brava towing a caravan.
Next day we set off at 09:30 in the morning before the heat builds up, and we make it comfortably to Forges-les-Eaux. Kathleen says she is training for the Coast-to-Coast when we get home.
We decide we will go to the nearby Lidl to buy “a bottle” of Gin for the Boss. We go on our bikes. When we get there she cannot resist buying three bottles of gin, six bottles of wine, and two three litre cartons of wine, oh’ and a bottle of coke and a bottle of cheap “Bacardi”.
Try carrying that lot on a bike, it is not easy.
As if that was not bad enough the “Bacardi” was rough. I swapped a couple of large glasses of it with David & Carol for a lemon, and I think that I got the bargain, but there again, for 4Euro what do you expect!
The site is beautifully kept, and the chap who runs it always takes you to your pitch and guides you onto the hard standing so that you don’t damage his grass, which he obviously cares for very carefully. We have been here so often now that one of the French families who have a static van here, recognise us on our arrival.
The site is much busier than we have seen it before, and for once I would say the GB’ers out number the Dutch and Germans, we will have to stop recommending it to people, otherwise we will not be able to get on ourselves!
After we get settled and have our lunch, we are just about to set off along the cycle track (in preparation for eating cream cakes for afters), when the David and Carol the Welsh couple from the previous site arrive.
From here there is a cycle track which goes in one direction to Dieppe (about 20 miles away), and in the other direction to Forges-les-Eaux (about 13 miles away). Dieppe is on the coast, so overall going there must be downhill there and uphill back, while Forges-les-Eaux is inland so it must be uphill on the way there and downhill on the way back. On previous visits here it has always been my intention to cycle both routes. But Kathleen has always wimped out after a few miles. So on the first day, we set off for Forges-les-Eaux, and (someone) wimps out after about 8 miles. To be fair we set off at about 15:00, so we had the heat of the day to deal with and it was hot (30C).
In the evening Kathleen gets out the guitar, but the singing is cut short by our French neighbour, who informs us that she has just been informed today that her nephew has committed suicide by driving his mother car into a wall. So she is understandably upset and having difficulty with being surrounded by revelry from us and our English neighbours. Kathleen stops immediately and we try our best in our inadequate French to be apologetic and sympathetic.
It turns out that two of our English neighbours Jack and Joan are from the north east, Joan from South Shields and Jack from Boldon Colliery, although they now live in South Shields, they are on their way to Costa Brava towing a caravan.
Next day we set off at 09:30 in the morning before the heat builds up, and we make it comfortably to Forges-les-Eaux. Kathleen says she is training for the Coast-to-Coast when we get home.
We decide we will go to the nearby Lidl to buy “a bottle” of Gin for the Boss. We go on our bikes. When we get there she cannot resist buying three bottles of gin, six bottles of wine, and two three litre cartons of wine, oh’ and a bottle of coke and a bottle of cheap “Bacardi”.
Try carrying that lot on a bike, it is not easy.
As if that was not bad enough the “Bacardi” was rough. I swapped a couple of large glasses of it with David & Carol for a lemon, and I think that I got the bargain, but there again, for 4Euro what do you expect!
Damned Microsoft!
Sorry just a slight hiccup. I made the mistake of upgrading to Internet Explorer 8, and now it will not let be update my blog!
Microsoft strikes again I should have known better!
Normal service will be resumed ASAP
OK normal service resumed, you now have to click "edit html" instead of "compose" before you can update your post, how obvious.
Microsoft strikes again I should have known better!
Normal service will be resumed ASAP
OK normal service resumed, you now have to click "edit html" instead of "compose" before you can update your post, how obvious.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
Sunday 28th June 2009
Domaine de Marcilly, Marcilly-sur-Eure (ACSI2009-727) N48.83184 E1.32972
The morning is warm and sunny, a beautiful summers day is promised. Kathleen goes off to church, and after packing up the van, I while away the morning watching the canoeists on the Loire. A whole group of them have arrived, some in cars and vans with their canoe on the roof, and some in a minibus, towing a trailer of canoes. They obviously plan to canoe and camp, as they have camping gear and spare clothing packed into plastic barrels in the canoe, and they launch them into the river and paddle off down stream.
Kathleen returns at about 11:45, and we set off for our next site, which is only about 2.5 hours away, (we think).
The satnav goes on the blink again, with no GPS signal. This time it happens as we are negotiating Dreux. Kathleen has not been paying attention, so has no idea where we are on the map, and we soon become totally lost in a maze of unclassified roads north of Dreux, which are not marked on our map. The problem is that the roads are extremely narrow, fortunately although we flounder around for about an hour before we find our way onto the road we want to be on, we do not meet anything bigger than a Renault Clio coming the other way. Eventually we find the campsite.
The site is more geared up for large static caravans, than tourers, but it is very pretty and well kept. There are three swimming pools, and numerous tennis courts, petang courts (French Boules), and table tennis.
There are not many tourers there, about 15 in total of whom five are GB’ers, including us.
Two of the GB couples have been here for four days so far and are inveterate complainers and reckon it is the worst site they have ever been on, they must have led a charmed life. One of their complaints is that there are no washing machines and no sinks to wash clothes. Well one of our first tasks when we go to a new site is to do a quick scout around and check were all of the vital facilities are ie toilets, showers, dishwashing, clothes washing. So Kathleen having been there four hours explains to them to where to find them (about 50 metres from their pitch as it happens). They are dog walkers, and another of their complaints is that the site is not very good for dogs. I ask you, who chooses a site on the basis that your dog will like it!
The third GB’er has a damned cat with them, the fourth pair (David and Carol) are actually welsh, but appear to be the most normal and likeable of the lot despite that..
The biggest weakness is that there are no shopping facilities onsite (amazingly for a French site, not even bread), and the village while quite close at about 2km, is along a rather busy road and down (and hence up on the way back) a fairly steep hill. Not good if you are cycling back with a pack beer and a few bottles of wine in your backpack!
Our final bit of excitement here occurs when a small Dutch boy (about 2 years old), burns his hand on a part of his parents camping stove. We do not know what has happened at first, but we can hear him crying. David (the Welshman) and Kathleen offer assistance. Despite the fact that Kathleen is/was a nurse, we have virtually nothing in the way of first aid kit, except a (very) few elastoplasts. Fortunately David has some Germoline, which does the trick, after cooling his hand in cold water.
The morning is warm and sunny, a beautiful summers day is promised. Kathleen goes off to church, and after packing up the van, I while away the morning watching the canoeists on the Loire. A whole group of them have arrived, some in cars and vans with their canoe on the roof, and some in a minibus, towing a trailer of canoes. They obviously plan to canoe and camp, as they have camping gear and spare clothing packed into plastic barrels in the canoe, and they launch them into the river and paddle off down stream.
Kathleen returns at about 11:45, and we set off for our next site, which is only about 2.5 hours away, (we think).
The satnav goes on the blink again, with no GPS signal. This time it happens as we are negotiating Dreux. Kathleen has not been paying attention, so has no idea where we are on the map, and we soon become totally lost in a maze of unclassified roads north of Dreux, which are not marked on our map. The problem is that the roads are extremely narrow, fortunately although we flounder around for about an hour before we find our way onto the road we want to be on, we do not meet anything bigger than a Renault Clio coming the other way. Eventually we find the campsite.
The site is more geared up for large static caravans, than tourers, but it is very pretty and well kept. There are three swimming pools, and numerous tennis courts, petang courts (French Boules), and table tennis.
There are not many tourers there, about 15 in total of whom five are GB’ers, including us.
Two of the GB couples have been here for four days so far and are inveterate complainers and reckon it is the worst site they have ever been on, they must have led a charmed life. One of their complaints is that there are no washing machines and no sinks to wash clothes. Well one of our first tasks when we go to a new site is to do a quick scout around and check were all of the vital facilities are ie toilets, showers, dishwashing, clothes washing. So Kathleen having been there four hours explains to them to where to find them (about 50 metres from their pitch as it happens). They are dog walkers, and another of their complaints is that the site is not very good for dogs. I ask you, who chooses a site on the basis that your dog will like it!
The third GB’er has a damned cat with them, the fourth pair (David and Carol) are actually welsh, but appear to be the most normal and likeable of the lot despite that..
The biggest weakness is that there are no shopping facilities onsite (amazingly for a French site, not even bread), and the village while quite close at about 2km, is along a rather busy road and down (and hence up on the way back) a fairly steep hill. Not good if you are cycling back with a pack beer and a few bottles of wine in your backpack!
Our final bit of excitement here occurs when a small Dutch boy (about 2 years old), burns his hand on a part of his parents camping stove. We do not know what has happened at first, but we can hear him crying. David (the Welshman) and Kathleen offer assistance. Despite the fact that Kathleen is/was a nurse, we have virtually nothing in the way of first aid kit, except a (very) few elastoplasts. Fortunately David has some Germoline, which does the trick, after cooling his hand in cold water.
Saturday 27th June 2009
L’Isle aux Moulins, Jargeau (ACSI2009-953) N47.86909 E2.11531
This is a very pleasant site, right alongside the River Loire. Facilities are basic but clean and functional. Only 13Euro/night however. It is a 5 minutes walk into town, where there are a selection of places to eat/drink, a small supermarket, plus of course the usual range of French small town shops, and a church (it is Saturday, so finding a church is a priority), with mass 10:30 on a Sunday. Plus there is a pleasant cycle track or walk along the river bank.
The rivers of France are one of the things I find amazing, they appear to be so enormous, we have been following the Loire more or less for about 240 kilometres, and at this point it is about 300 metres wide, and there is still about another 140 kilometres to go before it reaches the sea.
Jargeau is somewhat famous in second world war terms, although I must admit I had never heard of it, but it was here that elements of the French army stopped the advance of the Germans after they had invaded France. They presumably did it by holding the bridge, which appears to be the only one for a considerable distance in either direction. Not sure if it was a permanent stop or more a delay, but there you are.
The good weather has returned after yesterdays rain, and we have hot sunny weather with a clear blue sky.
We find we are not alone, compared to most places we have been this a little England with no fewer than six GB campervans/caravans there. As usual however the place was occupied mainly by Dutch.
It is strange how some sites are more “friendly” than others, within an hour we have had conversations with our Dutch neighbour and 5 of the six GB’ers.
The other thing about campsites or course is that they present great people watching opportunities. Pitched opposite to us are another Dutch couple, who are travelling by bicycle and camping. The female of the pair was rather large, a size 18 at least I would say, whilst the man did not appear to have an ounce of fat on him. I must point out, before continuing, that it was Kathleen who brought this to my attention. I suggested a theory to Kathleen, that perhaps her used her as a counter weight, whereby having got her to the top of the first hill, he could use her momentum on the downhill stretch to tow him out the hill. I was rebuked severely for this, on the basis that I was discriminating against fat people. I just want to remind you here that it was not me who drew attention to the Dutch lady’s size!.
Joking aside, you have to admire these people, we subsequently found out that they had travelled by train with their bicycles from their home in Holland to Basle on the Swiss / French border, and were then cycling across France to the Atlantic coast. At that point their son is to meet them in the car and give them (and their bicycles) a ride home.
They obviously were carrying a minimum of equipment, but even so their bicycles were well and truly loaded down with each of them having four panniers, two on the front, and two on the back!
In the evening we walk into town for a drink or two. This brought us a possible lesson in French language. We have been taught, that if you have had (say) a gin, and you want another the same, you say “encore un gin, s’il vous plait”, and that if you ask “un autre gin, s’il vous plait”, the waiter will interpret this as meaning that you did not like the first one, and want a different type for the subsequent gin. Well, we ordered our drinks using our best Michel Thomas French, “un Gin et Sweppes, et un pichet de vin rouge, Cotes de Rhone, s’il vous plait”. No problem. But when we came to order a subsequent gin, we asked “encore gin, s’il vous plait”, where upon the waiter said to us “un autre gin, mais oui”. Obviously he did not learn his French from the Michel Thomas CD’s! So we ask ourselves, is this autre vs encore a load of rubbish?
This is a very pleasant site, right alongside the River Loire. Facilities are basic but clean and functional. Only 13Euro/night however. It is a 5 minutes walk into town, where there are a selection of places to eat/drink, a small supermarket, plus of course the usual range of French small town shops, and a church (it is Saturday, so finding a church is a priority), with mass 10:30 on a Sunday. Plus there is a pleasant cycle track or walk along the river bank.
The rivers of France are one of the things I find amazing, they appear to be so enormous, we have been following the Loire more or less for about 240 kilometres, and at this point it is about 300 metres wide, and there is still about another 140 kilometres to go before it reaches the sea.
Jargeau is somewhat famous in second world war terms, although I must admit I had never heard of it, but it was here that elements of the French army stopped the advance of the Germans after they had invaded France. They presumably did it by holding the bridge, which appears to be the only one for a considerable distance in either direction. Not sure if it was a permanent stop or more a delay, but there you are.
The good weather has returned after yesterdays rain, and we have hot sunny weather with a clear blue sky.
We find we are not alone, compared to most places we have been this a little England with no fewer than six GB campervans/caravans there. As usual however the place was occupied mainly by Dutch.
It is strange how some sites are more “friendly” than others, within an hour we have had conversations with our Dutch neighbour and 5 of the six GB’ers.
The other thing about campsites or course is that they present great people watching opportunities. Pitched opposite to us are another Dutch couple, who are travelling by bicycle and camping. The female of the pair was rather large, a size 18 at least I would say, whilst the man did not appear to have an ounce of fat on him. I must point out, before continuing, that it was Kathleen who brought this to my attention. I suggested a theory to Kathleen, that perhaps her used her as a counter weight, whereby having got her to the top of the first hill, he could use her momentum on the downhill stretch to tow him out the hill. I was rebuked severely for this, on the basis that I was discriminating against fat people. I just want to remind you here that it was not me who drew attention to the Dutch lady’s size!.
Joking aside, you have to admire these people, we subsequently found out that they had travelled by train with their bicycles from their home in Holland to Basle on the Swiss / French border, and were then cycling across France to the Atlantic coast. At that point their son is to meet them in the car and give them (and their bicycles) a ride home.
They obviously were carrying a minimum of equipment, but even so their bicycles were well and truly loaded down with each of them having four panniers, two on the front, and two on the back!
In the evening we walk into town for a drink or two. This brought us a possible lesson in French language. We have been taught, that if you have had (say) a gin, and you want another the same, you say “encore un gin, s’il vous plait”, and that if you ask “un autre gin, s’il vous plait”, the waiter will interpret this as meaning that you did not like the first one, and want a different type for the subsequent gin. Well, we ordered our drinks using our best Michel Thomas French, “un Gin et Sweppes, et un pichet de vin rouge, Cotes de Rhone, s’il vous plait”. No problem. But when we came to order a subsequent gin, we asked “encore gin, s’il vous plait”, where upon the waiter said to us “un autre gin, mais oui”. Obviously he did not learn his French from the Michel Thomas CD’s! So we ask ourselves, is this autre vs encore a load of rubbish?
Friday, 26 June 2009
Friday 26th June 2009
La Chevette, Digoin (ACSI2009-967) N46.47977 E3.96759
This is a municipal site, but none the worse for that. It has wifi at your van for free, and costs only 13euro per night with the ACSI card.
It is clearly a popular site, we arrived at about 15:00, and had a choice of spaces, but by 18:30 it was almost full.
The town (Digoin) looks quite interesting, and is only a short walk away. According to the literature there are walks and cycle rides by the Loire. There is a Canal which crosses the river on a stone aqueduct type bridge. Unfortunately we do not get to explore very much. We go out for a short walk but only just make it back before the thunderstorm begins.
This is a municipal site, but none the worse for that. It has wifi at your van for free, and costs only 13euro per night with the ACSI card.
It is clearly a popular site, we arrived at about 15:00, and had a choice of spaces, but by 18:30 it was almost full.
The town (Digoin) looks quite interesting, and is only a short walk away. According to the literature there are walks and cycle rides by the Loire. There is a Canal which crosses the river on a stone aqueduct type bridge. Unfortunately we do not get to explore very much. We go out for a short walk but only just make it back before the thunderstorm begins.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
Saturday 20th June 2009 - Thursday 25th June 2009
International du Lac d’Annecy, St Jorioz nr Annecy (ACSI2009-1089) N45.83077 E6.17837
Occasionally, you see Campervans, or Caravans arrive at a site very early in the morning, ie before 09:30. I have often wondered how they achieve this, have they driven all night? Now I understand how, their partners (wives) have fallen out with the site next door, and they have moved 200 yards down the road. So it is that we arrive at this site, and as I am busy connecting up the electricity, an English man arrives and asks me, “how did you get here so early, have you driven all night?”…..
Joking aside, I have to say Kathleen was right (isn’t she always?), this site is much better, and it is 4Euro a night cheaper, so if you come this way, this is the one to choose. It even has wifi at your van, although on our arrival it is not working.
Once settled (again), we set off along the cycle track south towards Albertville. We do not make it all of the way there, but we get to Faverges, which at 11miles is about half way there. So we have a round trip of 22 miles, before returning for lunch. We also find a third church about 2miles away, which has mass Saturday 18:30. For lunch I eat the remainder of the garlic sausage I bought, since Kathleen is beginning to complain that it is trying to fight its’ way out of the fridge.
Sunday 21st dawns bright and sunny, the thunderstorms of the last two days appear to have gone (fingers crossed). In the UK, it is Fathers Day, uncharacteristically Kathleen is out of bed first. I think perhaps I am going to get looked after for the day?. It was a false alarm.
We cycle into Annecy, about six miles away. There are whole families, young and old, out in the sun, either cycling or skating on roller blades along the cycle track in both directions.
It makes you realise that the man who invented lycra (cycling shorts for women) should have a knighthood.
We have a good wander around Annecy (the old medieval town), there is a huge market going on, mostly food, and it is very busy, and have an excellent lunch by the Palais d’Isle. Then retire back to the campsite, where I am treated to an icecream and a superb coffee by Kathleen, before idling away the rest of the afternoon lying in the sun, followed by loosing at Petang (French boules) to Kathleen.
Monday is a “housework” day, ie do some washing, tidy the van etc, with the afternoon spent in the pool.
On Tuesday, we (I) prepare a picnic, and set off on our bikes. The stated aim is to go to Annecy and enjoy the park beside the lake. However I have a secret agenda which is to cycle around the lake (25 miles according to my estimates), Kathleen of course using her womens intuition, is aware of my secret agenda. We cycle into Annecy (six miles), then continue through the park and around the top of the lake. We get to the end of the cycle track (9 miles). So far it has been reasonably flat, now it begins to be a lot more undulating, as we weave through ancient small villages on the “quiet” side of the lake, then climb a long slow hill after Menthon Saint-Bernard. So far so good, no complaints. Then a steep hill down into Talloires. I know I am home and dry now, there is no way we are going to cycle back up the hill, so the only option is ahead. We stop for our picnic by the lake. Kathleen points out that she knew all of the time that I would attempt to get her to cycle around the lake. We are now at 15 miles, and sitting looking across the lake at Duingt. After our lunch we cycle the rest of the way along the lake, and on to Doussard, then rejoin the cycle track to head back along the other side towards Saint-Jorioz where we started. We stop off for coffee and a beer.
When we get back, my estimate of 25 miles turns out to be surprisingly accurate at 24.85 miles on our “cyclemeters”. Kathleen says she feels she could do another 10 miles, but declines to join me, as I continue on to the supermarket, to buy coffee, cakes and chocolate as a treat to us for completing what is to be part of the Tour de France on 23rd July 2009 (well almost, we missed out the climb upto the chateau at Bluffy).
Wednesday is hair washing day, so as usual Kathleen does not want to ruffle her hair when she has just washed it. In the morning I cycle south along the lake past Dousard. It is really hot and sunny today (27C), so most of the rest of the day is spent lying around. Out of curiosity we both check our blood pressure, mine is 117/68 and Kathleen 119/71, wonder if we can get a prescription for a ferry crossing and say a months campsite fees, instead of BP tablets? After our evening meal, we go out for another ten mile ride, Kathleen feels she has done nothing all day, except eat cakes (which I bought), so needs some exercise.
Thursday is to be our last day here, a week from today, we are scheduled to be on the ferry back to the UK. We have a final cycle ride into Annecy, then along the river which flows out of the lake through Annecy. This brings Kathleens total cycling for the week to 98 miles, why not do another two miles to make the round 100 you might ask. In the evening we have a drink with a very nice English couple (John and Linda, from Cheshire), who we first met on the previous site, and subsequently they came here.
Occasionally, you see Campervans, or Caravans arrive at a site very early in the morning, ie before 09:30. I have often wondered how they achieve this, have they driven all night? Now I understand how, their partners (wives) have fallen out with the site next door, and they have moved 200 yards down the road. So it is that we arrive at this site, and as I am busy connecting up the electricity, an English man arrives and asks me, “how did you get here so early, have you driven all night?”…..
Joking aside, I have to say Kathleen was right (isn’t she always?), this site is much better, and it is 4Euro a night cheaper, so if you come this way, this is the one to choose. It even has wifi at your van, although on our arrival it is not working.
Once settled (again), we set off along the cycle track south towards Albertville. We do not make it all of the way there, but we get to Faverges, which at 11miles is about half way there. So we have a round trip of 22 miles, before returning for lunch. We also find a third church about 2miles away, which has mass Saturday 18:30. For lunch I eat the remainder of the garlic sausage I bought, since Kathleen is beginning to complain that it is trying to fight its’ way out of the fridge.
Sunday 21st dawns bright and sunny, the thunderstorms of the last two days appear to have gone (fingers crossed). In the UK, it is Fathers Day, uncharacteristically Kathleen is out of bed first. I think perhaps I am going to get looked after for the day?. It was a false alarm.
We cycle into Annecy, about six miles away. There are whole families, young and old, out in the sun, either cycling or skating on roller blades along the cycle track in both directions.
It makes you realise that the man who invented lycra (cycling shorts for women) should have a knighthood.
We have a good wander around Annecy (the old medieval town), there is a huge market going on, mostly food, and it is very busy, and have an excellent lunch by the Palais d’Isle. Then retire back to the campsite, where I am treated to an icecream and a superb coffee by Kathleen, before idling away the rest of the afternoon lying in the sun, followed by loosing at Petang (French boules) to Kathleen.
Monday is a “housework” day, ie do some washing, tidy the van etc, with the afternoon spent in the pool.
On Tuesday, we (I) prepare a picnic, and set off on our bikes. The stated aim is to go to Annecy and enjoy the park beside the lake. However I have a secret agenda which is to cycle around the lake (25 miles according to my estimates), Kathleen of course using her womens intuition, is aware of my secret agenda. We cycle into Annecy (six miles), then continue through the park and around the top of the lake. We get to the end of the cycle track (9 miles). So far it has been reasonably flat, now it begins to be a lot more undulating, as we weave through ancient small villages on the “quiet” side of the lake, then climb a long slow hill after Menthon Saint-Bernard. So far so good, no complaints. Then a steep hill down into Talloires. I know I am home and dry now, there is no way we are going to cycle back up the hill, so the only option is ahead. We stop for our picnic by the lake. Kathleen points out that she knew all of the time that I would attempt to get her to cycle around the lake. We are now at 15 miles, and sitting looking across the lake at Duingt. After our lunch we cycle the rest of the way along the lake, and on to Doussard, then rejoin the cycle track to head back along the other side towards Saint-Jorioz where we started. We stop off for coffee and a beer.
When we get back, my estimate of 25 miles turns out to be surprisingly accurate at 24.85 miles on our “cyclemeters”. Kathleen says she feels she could do another 10 miles, but declines to join me, as I continue on to the supermarket, to buy coffee, cakes and chocolate as a treat to us for completing what is to be part of the Tour de France on 23rd July 2009 (well almost, we missed out the climb upto the chateau at Bluffy).
Wednesday is hair washing day, so as usual Kathleen does not want to ruffle her hair when she has just washed it. In the morning I cycle south along the lake past Dousard. It is really hot and sunny today (27C), so most of the rest of the day is spent lying around. Out of curiosity we both check our blood pressure, mine is 117/68 and Kathleen 119/71, wonder if we can get a prescription for a ferry crossing and say a months campsite fees, instead of BP tablets? After our evening meal, we go out for another ten mile ride, Kathleen feels she has done nothing all day, except eat cakes (which I bought), so needs some exercise.
Thursday is to be our last day here, a week from today, we are scheduled to be on the ferry back to the UK. We have a final cycle ride into Annecy, then along the river which flows out of the lake through Annecy. This brings Kathleens total cycling for the week to 98 miles, why not do another two miles to make the round 100 you might ask. In the evening we have a drink with a very nice English couple (John and Linda, from Cheshire), who we first met on the previous site, and subsequently they came here.
Friday, 19 June 2009
Friday 19th June 2009
Europa, St Jorioz nr Annecy (ACSI2009-1088) N45.830009 E6.18169
The good news is that we get through the height barrier exactly as the French guy explained to me, we would. Although Kathleen spent the 5km of the hill gripping her seat, the only problem we had was adistinct smell of burning disk brakes by the time we reached the bottom.
No problems finding our way here.
So you are thinking, what went wrong?. Well, when we got to the site, they told Kathleen that the only pitches they had left were so called “comfort” pitches. They each have individual water supply (ie tap) and waste disposal point, but they cost 4Euro extra, per night, thus increasing our cost to 19Euro per night.
The boss is not happy about this. I try to point out that say 6 nights at 4Euro is only 24Euro extra, so given that we have been away for about 12 weeks, this is neither here nor there. But, no it is niggling away at her. So we cycle to the next site along the lake (only about 200metres), and we will be moving there tomorrow.
Eventually we have run out of luck with the weather too, we have not had any rain for weeks, last was at Colle-sur-Loop, but last night we had a thunderstorm, and today it has has continued to thunder and rain on and off.
But Lake Annecy is beautiful, pity I cannot download any photographs.
Sunday is approaching, so we have done the other essential chore, ie we have found the church!, there is a choice of two, one about a mile away (09:30 Sunday), and one about three miles away (11:00 Sunday).
We have bought three hours internet time, so the rest of the evening is to be spent trying to contact Gary, Dana, Phillippa, Claire on Skype, so far without success! (except for Dana).
The good news is that we get through the height barrier exactly as the French guy explained to me, we would. Although Kathleen spent the 5km of the hill gripping her seat, the only problem we had was adistinct smell of burning disk brakes by the time we reached the bottom.
No problems finding our way here.
So you are thinking, what went wrong?. Well, when we got to the site, they told Kathleen that the only pitches they had left were so called “comfort” pitches. They each have individual water supply (ie tap) and waste disposal point, but they cost 4Euro extra, per night, thus increasing our cost to 19Euro per night.
The boss is not happy about this. I try to point out that say 6 nights at 4Euro is only 24Euro extra, so given that we have been away for about 12 weeks, this is neither here nor there. But, no it is niggling away at her. So we cycle to the next site along the lake (only about 200metres), and we will be moving there tomorrow.
Eventually we have run out of luck with the weather too, we have not had any rain for weeks, last was at Colle-sur-Loop, but last night we had a thunderstorm, and today it has has continued to thunder and rain on and off.
But Lake Annecy is beautiful, pity I cannot download any photographs.
Sunday is approaching, so we have done the other essential chore, ie we have found the church!, there is a choice of two, one about a mile away (09:30 Sunday), and one about three miles away (11:00 Sunday).
We have bought three hours internet time, so the rest of the evening is to be spent trying to contact Gary, Dana, Phillippa, Claire on Skype, so far without success! (except for Dana).
Thursday 18th June 2009
Ser Sirant, Petichet/St. Theoffrey (ACSI2009-1071) N45.00012 E5.77744
After yesterdays experience with the satnav, an executive decision is taken and we depart with the satnav turned off. The route looks straightforward enough, join the N96 just outside of Oraison, and head north to Chateau-Arnoux-St-Auban, then follow the N85 (known as the Route de Napoleon*), still North, past Sisterton (an impressive hill town, worth a visit at some future date), to Gap, stay on the N85 to our destination. The expectation is that it will be generally signposted Grenoble, which is north of our intended destination.
A hiccup in the flow of information from means that we take a wrong exit at a roundabout after Sisterton. We end up on the N75 (still signposted Grenoble, but set to bypass Gap and our destination). The error is not realised until we pass Serres, shortly after that we are able to take the D994 and get back on track for Gap. The consolation is that the scenery is impressive as we travel along a classic alpine valley, with high mountains, some still with snow on them, on each side of an almost flat valley floor. We are now in the Haute Alps region.
Those of you who are following closely may be wondering why I have not included some photographs of this spectacular scenery, well, if you have been following closely, you will recall that the lead to connect the camera to the computer was left at home by one of us.
After Gap, we stop in a picnic spot for lunch, and meet two more Brits, Jack and Marilyn from Devon. By chance they are heading for the same site as us.
Across the road from the picnic spot, there is some police activity, including a recovery truck. It emerges that there has been an accident between an ancient Renault 5 (which now has a wheel missing, and a broken windscreen) and a motorcycle, they are recovering from where it has come to rest down a steep embankment.
As we get nearer to our destination, we come to a fork in the road, both directions are signposted with a height restriction of 2.6m, and we are 2.9m high. According to the signs the restriction is 13km ahead, and according to the satnav (which we have now switched on again), we have only 10km to go, so we decide to take the risk and continue on the N85.
All is well, and we reach the site without encountering a height restriction.
Since we have to go that way tomorrow, I decide to cycle ahead the 3km or so and check if we can get through. The problem appears to be a very steep and long hill, rather than a height problem as such. I elect not to cycle down the hill, on the basis that I will have to cycle up it again, and the signs indicate it is 5km long! There are signs suggesting some form of control point 500meters down the hill. So I walk the 500metres down the hill to the control point. It is unmanned, but I can see there is a height barrier which we have no chance of negotiating. Fortunately, there are two chaps doing some kind of surveying task just a few more metres along the road. So I approach then and using my “O” level French (failed) I ask “Excusez mois, messieur, demain, je dois aller norde dans la direction de Grenoble, dans un campervan de haute trios metres”, this I hope translates as “excuse me, but tomorrow I need to travel north towards Grenoble in a campervan which is 3 metres high”. My French fails at the point of asking “how do I negotiate this control point”, so I settle for a helpless look and a gallic shrug of the shoulders. I am amazed, they understand!, they tell me in a mixture of English and French, that the problem is not really height, but rather a means of traffic control to limit the number of large vehicles attempting to negotiate the steep hill at the same time, and I must take the righthand lane, approach the barrier and press a button. This will summon up a controller who will be able to interact with me via CCTV, and will let us through. We will see what actually happens tomorrow.
So to round off for today. This is the second day we have had satnav problems, and today we resorted to human control. It did work, we got to our destination. I thought I would summarise what I have learned from this:
Satnavs may not always give the correct instructions, but on the other hand, nor do they get distracted by creaming their legs or other such activities at crucial points in the journey.
Sometimes satnav instructions may be wrong, but they are precise ie turn right, turn left etc. They do not give instructions such as “oh, just do whatever you think”, or “that way”.
No matter how bad things get, Satnavs do not lose their temper.
Kathleen says she is better than the satnav, and I know better than to disagree.
* My history was not up to knowing why it is called Route Napolean, but I looked it up on the web and "Route Napoleon was the rugged trek that Napoleon took in 1815 after he had conquered most of Europe, made his way back to Egypt and then quietly returned back to France after his exile on Elba."
After yesterdays experience with the satnav, an executive decision is taken and we depart with the satnav turned off. The route looks straightforward enough, join the N96 just outside of Oraison, and head north to Chateau-Arnoux-St-Auban, then follow the N85 (known as the Route de Napoleon*), still North, past Sisterton (an impressive hill town, worth a visit at some future date), to Gap, stay on the N85 to our destination. The expectation is that it will be generally signposted Grenoble, which is north of our intended destination.
A hiccup in the flow of information from means that we take a wrong exit at a roundabout after Sisterton. We end up on the N75 (still signposted Grenoble, but set to bypass Gap and our destination). The error is not realised until we pass Serres, shortly after that we are able to take the D994 and get back on track for Gap. The consolation is that the scenery is impressive as we travel along a classic alpine valley, with high mountains, some still with snow on them, on each side of an almost flat valley floor. We are now in the Haute Alps region.
Those of you who are following closely may be wondering why I have not included some photographs of this spectacular scenery, well, if you have been following closely, you will recall that the lead to connect the camera to the computer was left at home by one of us.
After Gap, we stop in a picnic spot for lunch, and meet two more Brits, Jack and Marilyn from Devon. By chance they are heading for the same site as us.
Across the road from the picnic spot, there is some police activity, including a recovery truck. It emerges that there has been an accident between an ancient Renault 5 (which now has a wheel missing, and a broken windscreen) and a motorcycle, they are recovering from where it has come to rest down a steep embankment.
As we get nearer to our destination, we come to a fork in the road, both directions are signposted with a height restriction of 2.6m, and we are 2.9m high. According to the signs the restriction is 13km ahead, and according to the satnav (which we have now switched on again), we have only 10km to go, so we decide to take the risk and continue on the N85.
All is well, and we reach the site without encountering a height restriction.
Since we have to go that way tomorrow, I decide to cycle ahead the 3km or so and check if we can get through. The problem appears to be a very steep and long hill, rather than a height problem as such. I elect not to cycle down the hill, on the basis that I will have to cycle up it again, and the signs indicate it is 5km long! There are signs suggesting some form of control point 500meters down the hill. So I walk the 500metres down the hill to the control point. It is unmanned, but I can see there is a height barrier which we have no chance of negotiating. Fortunately, there are two chaps doing some kind of surveying task just a few more metres along the road. So I approach then and using my “O” level French (failed) I ask “Excusez mois, messieur, demain, je dois aller norde dans la direction de Grenoble, dans un campervan de haute trios metres”, this I hope translates as “excuse me, but tomorrow I need to travel north towards Grenoble in a campervan which is 3 metres high”. My French fails at the point of asking “how do I negotiate this control point”, so I settle for a helpless look and a gallic shrug of the shoulders. I am amazed, they understand!, they tell me in a mixture of English and French, that the problem is not really height, but rather a means of traffic control to limit the number of large vehicles attempting to negotiate the steep hill at the same time, and I must take the righthand lane, approach the barrier and press a button. This will summon up a controller who will be able to interact with me via CCTV, and will let us through. We will see what actually happens tomorrow.
So to round off for today. This is the second day we have had satnav problems, and today we resorted to human control. It did work, we got to our destination. I thought I would summarise what I have learned from this:
Satnavs may not always give the correct instructions, but on the other hand, nor do they get distracted by creaming their legs or other such activities at crucial points in the journey.
Sometimes satnav instructions may be wrong, but they are precise ie turn right, turn left etc. They do not give instructions such as “oh, just do whatever you think”, or “that way”.
No matter how bad things get, Satnavs do not lose their temper.
Kathleen says she is better than the satnav, and I know better than to disagree.
* My history was not up to knowing why it is called Route Napolean, but I looked it up on the web and "Route Napoleon was the rugged trek that Napoleon took in 1815 after he had conquered most of Europe, made his way back to Egypt and then quietly returned back to France after his exile on Elba."
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