May 29th 2010 - May 30th 2010

Ceriale – Camping Baciccia – ACSI2010-1735 – continued



We (Kathleen and I) cycle to Alassio and back, (16 miles).


Going there is flat as far as Albenga, but then a slow but steady climb, with a final downhill stretch.

Alassio was presumably once a fishing village, but has since become a resort.

From memory it was a popular destination for Brits in the late 1950’s, but now mass tourism has passed it by.


We have a beer to fortify us for the climb back up the hill. We are asked if we want small of medium. We opt for medium, which turns out to be about pint size, but we get, crisps, salted nuts, tuna salad, palma ham, garlic sausage, and bread, as well. It costs 8Euro, but not bad for a mini meal and two pints!

The climb out of Alassio is quite steep, the photograph probably does not show just how steep.

Kathleen is not actually visible, she is just in front of the white car (on the right) and two motorcycles, pedaling valiantly. She makes it to the top, with not a word of complaint.

You have probably noticed that we have not had a hair care day for a while.

Well today is a double dose.

Not only is it hair washing and straightening, but both Joan and Kathleen require the hair colouring to be topped up.

So today it is the full works, colouring, washing, drying, straightening.

Please do not assume that they have any grey hairs of course, they are simply having a tint, to enhance their natural hair colour, becuase the bright sunlight has faded their hair. (No I don't believe that either).

Bryan, comes out of retirement, (he was at some point in his working life a ladies hairdresser), to attend to their needs, and soon has a hairdressing salon going under our awning. Much to the amusement of passers by.

Once hairdressing tasks are completed, evening meals eaten, and skype calls made, we settle down to an evening of Red Wine and Rose Wine.

I feel I should point out that the photographs of the hairdressing have been published at considerable personal risk. Joan in particular is very sensitive about this, and has threatened me with personal injury if I publish the blog containing these photographs. Her threats mean I dare not fall asleep in the sun, in case she performs surgery on me with a blunt knife.

Sunday, church as usual, this means a cycle ride into Ceriale.

While the girls are at church, Bryan and I, retire to a pavement cafe for coffee.

We are eventually joined by Kathleen and Joan, which of course means that the drinks switch to wine.

The cafe does not do meals, only nibbles, so we move on to a restaurant for lunch.

The restaurant is called "Il Restaurante Grotti", but it does not live up to it's name, because we have an excellent meal. Joan, Bryan and Kathleen all have pasta in one form or another whilst I have swordfish.

The Waiter (in the blue shirt), and the Chef (far right), see photographs below, do not speak any English, but we manage to get by in German, French and Italian (from Bryan's phrase book). It all works, because we end up with a meal each, copious amounts of alcohol, and a sweet, the end price being 80Euro including the tip.

In addition to an excellent meal, which takes up most of the afternoon, we have a good old laugh. The girls in particular become typical "Brits abroad" as the amount of alcohol consumed increases (wine at the cafe, Campari while studying the menu, Wine with the meal, followed by a couple of complimentary drinks, the name of which I have forgotten).

Just to complete the line up, the chap in the middle with his arms around the women, is the owner, whilst the chap in the red shirt was another diner, who just joined in the photograph.

We eventually wobble our way back to the campsite on our bikes, and Kathleen, in singing mood, entertains a little Italian girl, whose name is Julia.

May 28th 2010

Ceriale – Camping Baciccia – ACSI2010-1735 - continued

Friday starts overcast but warm, We cycle into Albenga, which is quite a large town. It is an Italian seaside resort, but not a package tour destination.

It has an extensive medieval centre, with numerous piazzas joined together by dozens of very narrow streets and alleys.

After the exploring we retire to a bar for a much needed drink (what a surprise).

We are served with beers which are 7.4% alcohol, quite strong stuff. We are also given salted nuts, olives and crisps as part of the deal. There is much discussion of why it is, that, in the UK, we cannot have 24hours drinking, without the streets being awash with vomit and drunks, but in the rest of Europe, they can drink all day and all night, with never a sight of a drunk.


In the afternoon, we have lunch and relax (quite how it is possible to relax, when doing nothing in the first place, is a good question).


While Bryan practices his Saxaphone, Joan does watercolour painting, and Kathleen does the crossword, I read yesterdays Daily Mail and ponder I gain from these campervan trips to various countries.


One obvious point is the exposure to other languages, and I feel I am beginning to become proficient in a second language. Unfortunately, the second language is not French, Spanish, Italian or German, no it is FemaleSpeak.


I have become fluent in a few phrases (of FemaleSpeak), which I will share with you, and which may be of particular interest to any male readers.


“Do you fancy a cup of tea” – translation – “Would you like to get up from your seat, where you are reading the newspaper, and put the kettle on, because I would like a cup of tea and do not want to interrupt my crossword puzzle”


“Goodness! It is four o’clock already” – translation – “it is time to begin preparing the evening meal, but I am doing my crossword, so would you care to stop whatever you are doing and prepare some vegetables, cut up the meat etc etc”


“I will make a cup of tea” – translation – “I will put the kettle on, then I will play my guitar and forget all about the tea, in the meantime, you can wash the dishes, dry them, put them away, finish making the tea, and bring me a cup”


“I feel thirsty” (usually spoken when lying on sun lounger) – translation – “will you put down your book, at this interesting point in the story, pour me a drink, preferably cool and alcoholic, and put it down in easy reach of my right hand, so that I do not need to move”.

After our evening meal (and putting the kettle on), Kathleen entertains anyone who within earshot.

May 25th 2010 - May 27th 2010

Port Grimaud – Les Prairies de La Mer – ACSI2010-1523 - continued

Tuesday, Bryan and Joan, and Bob and Gina are packing to leave tomorrow, heading their separate ways.



I visit a bar/restaurant (Le Jardin de la Mer), which Joan had noticed was offering free internet access. When I arrived (at about 15:00), the place was just closing for the afternoon, but for the price of a beer, I was given the password for the Wifi, and a seat on the veranda, where I was able to download photographs and prepare this as a draft for free, instead of at the extortionate prices offered by the campsite for wifi.


On my return from the bar, I find that, Joan, has been instructing Kathleen and Gina in the art of cake making using the Remoska. The area around our vans is pervaded with the smell of cakes baking, plenty of jealous people I think.


We have a Date and Walnut cake, made by Kathleen, under supervision from Joan, and a German Apple Cake made by Joan, with Kathleen and Gina under instruction. Recipes and instructions are carefully noted and Bob and I look forward to a future rich in beautifully made cakes.

The German Apple Cake is demolished as our joint sweet. The Date and Walnut cake is halved between the Cricks and ourselves. Joan generous as ever shares her half with Bob and Gina, so far Kathleen has not even shared our half with me!


Wednesday, and they all leave, so now we are surrounded by empty spaces, until at about midday, a Swiss Caravanning couple arrive, and an Italian couple in a Campervan shortly afterwards.

The first two slices of Date and Walnut cake are eaten at lunch time. It is superb. Kathleen is going to be unbearable now that she has added cake making to her many skills!

Dana is an accomplished cake maker, I can only assume that the skill must be a gene which has been dormant in Kathleen, but passed on to Dana, it has somehow now been activated in Kathleen (I hope permenantly).

I return to the bar/restaurant, and buy myself a large beer so that I can use the internet again (it is a hard life), continue with the blog and top up my mobile phone just in case I need to make calls to Houston, since so far, our pending new arrival has not arrived.



Wednesday, and they all leave, so now we are surrounded by empty spaces, until at about midday, a Swiss Caravanning couple arrive.

Thursday, we finish our packing and get on the road to Italy. As usual we stay off the motorway as much as possible, but on this route it is a mistake, once in Italy, the coast road through places such as San Remo is a torturous road with heavy traffic, and motor scooters taking suicidal risks to overtake. It may cost 20Euro to bypass it on the motorway, but it is worth it.

Ceriale – Camping Baciccia – ACSI2010-1735

It is very busy when we arrive. Fortunately Bryan and Joan have reserved us a pitch. The owner supervises me reversing on to it. It is so tight I have to remove the bikes from the bike rack, to gaion an extra metre of room. But evetually I am on the pitch, getting off again might be another story!

19th May - 24th May 2010

Port Grimaud – Les Prairies de La Mer – ACSI2010-1523



We have been here a couple of times before, on the plus side, it is right on the beach, it is an easy cycle to the Supermarket, and to Saint Maxime (where there is a church for Kathleen). But it is a very big site, and since our last visit even more of it has been given over to static caravans and chalets. Not a place I would like to be in the season when it is busy, but at this time of year it is OK.


The weather at least seems to be on our side, it is sunny and actually hot, not just warm.


Bryan and Joan, have both had colds, now it is our turn. We dose ourselves with a French cold remedy called Fervex. It did the trick for Bryan and Joan, so hopefully it will fix us too.


Wednesday morning, and I have clearly spoken too soon. It is pouring with rain. It lasts until about 11:00, and then clears and the sun comes out. Everything begins to dry out rapidly, so everyone is smiling again.


We cycle to show Bryan and Joan where the Geant Supermarket is (1.5miles away), along a good cycle track.

Thursday morning arrives, bright sunshine, as you would expect in the South of France. We cycle to Saint Maxime. It is an easy 4 miles along an excellent cycle track.

Saint Maxime is a beautiful little place, much nicer than the more famous St Tropez (in my humble opinion).

The church times are checked, so that Joan and Kathleen can come to mass here on Sunday, assuming the church in Port Grimaud is not open (as is usually the case out of season).






We stop off for a drink and watch the world go by, before cycling back.


I stop to take a couple of photographs, confident I will catch them up. But as I pedal after them, I get a puncture. I have a spare inner tube and puncture outfit of course, but they are back at the van. Kathleen and I do not have our mobile phones with us. Obviously I would be a failure as a boy scout. I have no choice but to walk the remaining three miles, pushing my bike. I assume one of the party (like my loving wife), will notice that I am missing, and come back to see where I am. But no one appears, until I am about a mile from the campsite, at which point Bryan rides to the rescue. It is not worth fixing the puncture at this point, so I give him my van keys so that Kathleen can get into the van, and walk the remaining mile.


After our return, our English neighbours, Bob and Gina, decide they will cycle to St Maxime. Unfortunately on the return trip, Gina falls off her bicycle and scrapes her knee and arm. No serious harm, but some nasty grazes. Kathleen, who does not normally have so much as a sticking plaster to hand, excels herself and provides a sterile dressing.


Bryan and I, fix my puncture, which turns out to be a nail which has holed the tube in two places.


From her sunbed, Kathleen offers to provide the evening meal (Spaghetti Bolognaise), for everyone. This translates as her lying in the sun for the rest of the afternoon, whilst I prepare ingredients, and cook the pasta, Kathleen does the finishing (and of course all important) touches, to produce a meal praised by all present.

Friday, boosted by the trip to St Maxime, and armed with a map borrowed from Bob and Gina, we set off for St Tropez. There is a cycle track for the whole distance now, and it is a pleasant ride along a virtually flat route.

We wander the harbour, with it’s collection of expensive boats and yachts.

There are also a couple of cruise ships at anchor, just offshore, with their (mainly American) passengers “doing” St Tropez.

We have been to St Tropez before, but on that occasion it was market day, and very crowded. Today it is much more pleasant, and we are able to wander the side streets easily, taking the odd photograph as we go.

Eventually we retire to a café for a beer, but then decide we will have lunch there. The meal is pretty good value, with a main course and sweet, plus coffee for 15Euro each, not bad, considering we are in “trendy” St Tropez.

In the course of the meal we meet a couple of Americans off the cruise ship in the harbour. He is a New York Attorney, it made us realise why the world hates Americans. His wife was bearable.

Suitably fortified we cycle back, making an 11 mile round trip.











Saturday brings the need for a full hairdressing exercise, including, selection of suitable venue for washing, wash, blow dry, straighten, cut fringe, look in mirror, fiddle a bit more etc etc.


The afternoon is spent in a stroll around Port Grimaud, and the inevitable beer. Port Grimaud is a sort of fake Cote d’Azure fishing village. It was built as a holiday centre come marina in the 1970’s.


It was built to mimic the style of a “real” fishing village, and it has been very well done, but of course it is just not real. The harbour/marina I am sure has never actually seen a fishing boat, being filled with expensive yachts and power cruisers. So is a sort of Milton Keynes of Cote d’Azure fishing villages.


The plan is to have a quiet evening, with not too much to drink, since we have probably been overdoing the alcohol intake recently.

But as with all well laid plans, it unravels, and we spend the evening with Bryan, Joan, Bob and Gina, drinking red wine, chatting and sampling Jeana’s home made sponge cake (very nice too). She owns up to the fact that it is out of a packet, but she still had to put it in the oven, which I suppose counts as home made. Also to be fair to Gina, she is a none drinker, although she is tempted into a glass of Joans Croatian Pear Liqueur.


Sunday, so of course Kathleen and Joan “must” go to Mass.


We all cycle to St Maxime, the ladies do their religious duty, whilst Bryan and I check out the restaurants and then sit and watch the world go by.

We have lunch at a pleasant little restaurant, and then lie on the beach, before cycling back to the campsite.


Monday, another beautiful, sunny day.


Kathleen exhibits another of her many talents by cutting my hair, which has become quite shaggy in the five or six or is it seven weeks we have been away from home.


Bryan and Joan opt to take the “Petite Train” to Grimaud village. This is a small tractor, made to look like a train, which pulls along a number of trailers (carriages), it takes a leisurely 50 minutes to get to Grimaud village, about five miles inland.


When we cycled to St Tropez, I noticed a turn off the cycle track to a place called Ramatuelle. We have been told the route there is hilly, but my preference is to have a go at cycling there (and back of course).


Kathleen and I set off. It is initially easy going, along the cycle track to St Tropez, but shortly after we take the turn off to Ramatuelle, the route begins to climb steadily.


It turns out to be 1.5 miles of flat cycling, followed by 5 miles up an increasingly steep hill.


We manage to maintain a steady ten miles an hour up the hill, for the first three miles, but as it becomes ever steeper, we are reduced to just over 5 miles an hour.

At the top is a beautifully preserved, hilltop medieval village (Ramatuelle).

There is also a “defibrillateur” machine attached to the wall, beside the fountain, indicating that some people have not survived the climb without serious ill effects!

We do a (walking) circuit of the village, including the church, of course.

Since Kathleen has been such an intrepid cyclist, with not a word of complaint as she slogged her way up hill for 5 miles, I treat her to a glass of Rose, in a rather smart pavement café/restaurant. You may think one glass of rose is a bit mean, but at 7Euro (£6.40), per glass, it was as much as I could afford!

The hair not looking as good as it might, after our sweaty cycle ride, is what she is saying here!


My original plan had been to go down hill on the otherside of Ramatuelle to the beach, cycle along the coast to St Tropez, then along the cycle track back to Port Grimaud.


But we do not have a map with us, and it is a guess on my part that it is actually possible to get along the coast from Ramatuelle to St Tropez. Kathleen is not willing to trust my guess, if it means having to peddle up yet another hill. Oh ye of little faith.


We return the way we came, which means 5 miles of coasting down hill, reaching 24 miles an hour without even peddling!


In the evening, despite a gruelling day of cycling, Kathleen rustles up a superb meal. She calls it “Pork and Apple Surprise”, on the basis that it is as big a surprise to her as to everyone else that it turned out so well.


The late evening is spent in drinking copious amounts of red wine, and chatting with Joan, Bryan, Bob and Gina.

17th May 2010 – 18th May 2010

St Martin-de-Crau – Camping de La Crau – ACSI2010-1537








First time we have been here, a small site on the edge of a large village, small town, depending on how you look at it. The village seems quite pleasant, and the temperatures have increased, but it is still very windy. Just a one night stop over here.


Port Grimaud – Les Prairies de La Mer – ACSI2010-1523


We have been here a couple of times before, on the plus side, it is right on the beach, it is an easy cycle to the Supermarket, and to Saint Maxime (where there is a church for Kathleen). But it is a very big site, and since our last visit even more of it has been given over to static caravans and chalets. Not a place I would like to be in the season when it is busy, but at this time of year it is OK.

I do not think you will be getting regular updates from here. They have WiFi, but is costs an amazing 50Euro per week, which is about three times as much as any other place we have stayed at, extortion!

12th May 2010 – 16th May 2010

Just as we are about to leave San Pere Pescadore, we get a message from Bryan (Crick), to say it is raining in Narbonne, just in case we want to re-consider our departure. But it is raining here too, so we go ahead as planned.



Narbonne – La Nautique – ACSI 2010-1447


This is one of our “regular” stops, a very nice Dutch run campsite about 3km from Narbonne.


Bryan and Joan are already booked in and have reserved us a pitch next to them. Apparently Bryan has already amused the other people in our immediate vicinity, one English couple, two Dutch couples and a German couple, with his lengthy maneuvering exercise to get their van correctly positioned, avoiding the low branches of the Olive trees, now it is my turn to provide the entertainment.


After the formal handing over of the precious ASDA teabags, and a large hug from Phillippa, transported to us by Joan, we spend the evening catching up on our respective adventures since we last met. We manage to make significant inroads to a 5 litre container of Rioja and a similarly sized container of Rose.


Unfortunately although the rain has stopped, it is still cool and windy.


The general consensus seems to be that the abnormal weather pattern we are experiencing is all down to the volcanic eruptions in Iceland. Typical of them, first we have the cod wars, next their Banks lose all of our money and refuse to pay it back, now they are disrupting our weather.

Kathleen and I cycle to the lock at Mandirac, about 5 miles away, on the Canal Robin.

There is an old wine barge being restored by the side of the canal, nothing seems to have changed in the 12 months or so since we last cycled past it, not one more plank appears to have been added.

Joan (a known domestic goddess and cake maker of renown), spent the morning washing clothes, and making a date and walnut cake in her newly acquired Remorska cooking device. Kathleen, whose nearest encounter with making a date and walnut cake, is visiting the cake counter in ASDA, lends helpful advice. Kathleen, then tells me she may have a try at making a cake when we get home. I am not holding my breath.


In the afternoon the all important hair washing, drying, and straightening activities take place.


This is followed by doing the crossword and then taking of the blood pressure, and checking pulse, just to check there is still life present.


Poor Bryan is falling victim to a cold, but he struggles on manfully and plays a full part in an evening of drinking red wine. He insists on apologizing to us all for being a miserable, grumpy old b*****d, what with his cold and all, but we three reassure him that we never think of him as old.

Friday, the weather is a little better, still windy, but no rain, and even some blue sky and sunshine. We decide to cycle to Narbonne, Bryan and Joan take the short route (about 3 miles one way), in deference to Bryan’s cold, Kathleen and I take the scenic route (10 miles), via the lock at Mandirac, then along the cycle / footpath beside the Canal Robin, returning via the short route.

Given the amount of alcohol we consumed last night, we have coffee in the square at Narbonne, possibly one of our favourite places in the whole of France. It is so typically French, a selection of pavement cafes to eat and drink, with superb cakes at the patisserie, and great opportunities for just sitting and watching the world go by.


As a nation I would say the French are more or less on a par with the British, for having a sizable minority of the population who are so ignorant they allow their dog to foul public places.


So it was no surprise when we saw just such an incident outside of the Marie (Town Hall) in Narbonne, with an ignorant dog owner allowing his dog to crap on the pavement. But within a few minutes an operative rode up on a motor scooter, equipped with a sort of vacuum device, and promptly hovered up the offending mess, and then rode off again. It was all so quick I did not have time to take a photograph of what is, in my opinion, a good use of council tax payers money.


We are invited to eat with Bryan and Joan, in the evening (Friday).


They have invited Julie and Hannah (their friend who lives nearby and her daughter), for a meal and drinks.


Julie arrives with a couple of dozen eggs each for us, courtesy of her free range chickens.


Kathleen provides some entertainment in the form of a few songs.


Joan and Bryan whip up one of their culinary masterpieces (as usual). How they manage to cook such a meal for six people with the limited facilities available is a mystery to me.


Joan in particular excels herself with two sweets, both cooked in her wonder Remoska device. We have a choice of Date and Walnut cake or German Apple Cake. For those of us with who find making a choice difficult, you can have both! An excellent evening is had by all.

Saturday, and the weather appears to be slowly improving, blue sky and sunshine, but still a very strong wind blowing.


We spend the day in Narbonne, there is a parade taking place, not sure what it is in aid of, but something to do with the war, they certainly continue to celebrate wartime anniversaries much more than we do, a factor of having been invaded I suppose.


My task is to attempt to buy a Daily Mail (for the crossword, not the inane political comment). It gives me an opportunity to practice my schoolboy French, asking the Newsagent if he sells English Newspapers, being told, no, but they sell them at the railway station. Then asking (and understanding) directions to the railway station. The end result is dismal failure, would you believe at a main railways station, the Newspaper / Magazine shop closes for lunch for one and threequarter hours, the French still know how to relax!


Sunday, we all cycle into Narbonne together, it is more windy than even yesterday! Kathleen and Joan go to mass, whilst Bryan and I amuse ourselves wandering around and drinking coffee.


In the afternoon, we go to Carnet to visit Julie and Hannah, and have a conducted tour of Julie and Khaled’s renovation project. It is an amazing house, you need a map to find your way around it is so huge.


Monday, we leave, heading toward the South of France, to see if we can get some better weather.

May 11th 2010

Sant Pere Pescador – Aquarius – ASCI 2010-1660 Continued

It is washing machine day, so everything which can be washed is consigned to the washing machine. As usual, I am up first, but I do not even manage to finish my shower, before the towel is being snatched away to join the washing. The shrinking of my polo shirts by the tumble drier is avoided this time, by the simple expedient of reading the instructions.

We set off for the Bodega, on our bicycles. It is not far away (less than a mile) along a traffic free cycle track, just as well perhaps, in the event.

They have all kinds of drinks, including some expensive wines. The expensive stuff is not on free tasting.

They do have a "wall" of barrels, of perfectly nice, cheaper stuff which you can taste for free. There is a notice warning you that there is CCTV in operation, I can only assume this is so they can come and remove the bodies periodically.

There are all kinds, several Red wines, several Roses, several whites, and even a few Port (including some unusual white Port) and Sherry.

Naturally we have a taste of everything. The glasses are small, but there is nothing to stop you having more than one glass of each, just to be sure you have the taste right.

 As we wobbled back to the van, I understand why our German neighbours were a bit wobbly on their return yesterday.

Once you have decided what you want to buy, you fill your container from the barrel, and attach a label, so they know what it is, then go to a checkout to pay.

We are expecting to meet up with the Cricks in the next few days, so it is necessary to stock up, that Joan knows how to drink.

We eventually leave, with 5 litres of red, 5 litres of rose, 1 litre of dry sherry, 2 litres of Gin, it is not easy to carry all of that on a bicycle. 

The afternoon is spent, drinking the Sherry, and listening to Kathleen singing. 

09th May 2010 - 10th May 2010

Sant Pere Pescador – Aquarius – ASCI 2010-1660 Continued

It is Sunday, so that is Kathleen's morning planned, no matter where we are she must go to church. We cycle into Sant Pere Pescador for 11:00.

Usually I would find a newsagent selling English newspapers, and a bar, but Sant Pere Pescador is not upto the task, I cannot even find a newsagent, let alone one selling English newspapers. I find the main square, it has two bars, but both are devoid of any sign of life, apart from (in one of them), a dog lying asleep.

I search some more, and find a likely spot for coffee when Kathleen emerges from church.

After church, we retire to the cafe I have found, where we have coffee, plus a sandwich (for me). I mention that I running low on Euros, and will need to draw more. Needless to say, Kathleen has more Euros left than I do. Several days ago she counted how much she had in 20 Euro notes, the answer was 100 Euro, today she still has 100 Euro in 20's, this according to her, after buying numerous items (all of which I have apparently eaten or drank, but which I have neglected to pay for). There is only one plausible explanation, the 20 Euro notes are having sex in her purse and producing offspring.

We return to the campsite, book ourselves a table for dinner this evening, then retire to the van for lunch. Kathleen has a heavy schedule of lying on her sun bed, it is very arduous, she must turn over every 30 minutes, to ensure she is evenly done. She breaks off briefly from this tiring schedule to talk to (quiz), the new Englsih neighbours, she establishes that:

• they have been to Costa del Sol for the winter
• they are heading for Royan in France for the summer
• they have rented out their house in England, whilst they roam Europe
• they return to Uk, for only one day per yer, to get the car MOT'd (they are towing a caravan).
• they have two children (one daughter, not married, one son, married, no children, and currently touring the world, (presently in India), on motor cycles with his wife)

Isn't it amazing what one woman will tell another (a total stranger) in the space of ten minutes, plus isn't it amazing what one woman has the nerve to ask another (a total stranger).

We eat in the campsite restaurant, which is remarkably good, and then we are able to catch some of the family on skype, including reassuring ourselves that all is going well with Gary and Susana and the expected new arrival in Houston.  

Monday, and one set of English neighbours depart, heading for Narbonne, the sun is shining, perhaps the weather system which brought us all of the rain has moved on.

We cycle to the BonPreu supermarket in San Pere Pescadore, to purchase some supplies. Shortly after our return, our German neighbours arrive back on their bicycles, a little wobbly. They have been to the Bottega along the road, sampling wine, and buying several 5 litre containers of the stuff. I think that will be our destination tomorrow.

In the interests of keeping our figures, we indulge in a short cycle ride after lunch, we find a new route along the river beside San Pere Pescadore, and then explore the cycle track again, to see if it has dried up yet. As you can see it hasn't.  We are only able to do ten miles there and back, since Kathleen draws the line at riding through water, no sense of adventure! 

One of the other attraction here is the beach, it is wide and long, all good sand.

It is very popular with kite surfers, which of course tells you there is usually a good steady breeze blowing. This is fine when the sun is shining and it is hot, a nice breeze keeps things bearable, but when it is cloudy and cool, the wind is not so welcome!

In the afternoon, we undo the exercise regime with fresh strawberries.

    

08th May 2010

Sant Pere Pescador – Aquarius – ASCI 2010-1660 Continued

The start of the day is depressingly familiar, the sound of rain on the roof!

But good news, by the time we have had breakfast, the rain has stopped, and the sky has cleared, lots and lots of blue sky.

We set off to cycle to Castello Dempuires, there is a cycle track route, but my exploring of yesterday told us that it is flooded. So we cycle along a small and fairly quiet road. It is 8km (5 miles) from San Pere Pescadore, so that makes it approximately 7 miles from the campsite.

Almost immediately, we find the supermarket which eluded me yesterday, it is set back from the road out from San Pere Pescadore, just beside the petrol station.

It is easy going cycling to Castello Dempuires, the road is fairly flat, and cuts across a nature reserve (Parc Natural dels Aiguamolls de l’Emporda), the sun continues to shine.

Castello Dempuires is a quaint and well kept little place with an impressive church, dating back to 1060, where we do the tourist thing, then we retire to a bar to quench our thirst from the cycle ride.

There is supposed to a market on here, but we cannot find it (what a shame). Kathleen finds a tourist information office, and is informed, the market is in Empuriabrava, about 5km away on the coast. The helpful young man in the Tourist office gives her instructions on how to get there (on a bicycle), and how to find the market.

The cycle route to Empuriabrava is very pleasant, taking us along the river Muga, the coast. Here we find the market, and buy some fruit, vegetables, and a belt for me (I have lost so much weight, because of my healthy lifestyle, my trousers will not stay up). Being a man, I buy the first belt I see, at the first stall we come to, selling belts. It costs me 7 Euro. Kathleen is highly amused to find the same thing, several stalls along for 5 Euro.

According to the young man in Tourist Information, there is a cycle track back towards San Pere Pescadore, but it is flooded because of the recent heavy rain, so we must retrace our route to Castello Dempuires, and then return along the road we came on.

The total journey turns out to be 22 miles.

We get back at about 14:30, the site seems to have filled up somewhat, partly because it is the weekend I think, there appears to be an increased number of Spanish families, and we have new Belgian neighbours, in addition to the English who arrived yesterday.

After lunch the rest of the afternoon is spent reading and lying about in the sun.

I see our friends Bryan and Joan are steadily making their way south (see http://www.bryanandjoan.blogspot.com/ ).

06 May 2010 – 07th May 2010

Sant Pere Pescador – Aquarius – ASCI 2010-1660 Continued

Weather is not a lot better, overcast and not terribly warm, but at least it is not actually raining.

We got a cycle route map from reception, and despite our previous experience of Spanish Cycle routes, we decided to go out cycling.

The plan was to cycle south to Sant Marti d’Empuries, then to L’Escala, then to L’Armentera and back to the Campsite.

The first problem was, after about two miles, the cycle track south was flooded, from all of the rain we have had over the past few days, so we had to cycle back to Sant Pere Pescador, and then go along a minor road to Sant Marti d’Empuries, which is a tiny place, perched on a small hill, with just a church and at least four restaurants, it is obviously a popular place to visit and eat.

Next we were able to cycle along an excellent promenade, past some Roman (?) ruins, to L’Escala, where we had our lunch. L’Escala is a sort of Spanish Whitby I suppose, a quaint (ex) fishing village, which is not quite a resort, more a sort of day trip place.

Then along a signposted cycle track to L’Armentera, this was a challenge, much of the track was very wet and muddy, not to Kathleen’s liking at all, but she rose to the challenge with hardly a word of complaint. L’Armentera, was asleep, no sign of life at all.

Finally, back to Sant Pere Pescador. Eighteen miles in total.

We spend the evening drinking a litre carton of red wine, which we paid only 1.05Euro for, pretty good, considering the price.

Friday, wake up to the sound of rain pattering on the roof, I thought the rain in Spain was supposed to fall mainly on the plain, not on our roof.

Their weather forecasts are about as much good as ours.

Check the news from the UK, only to find it looks as if we are going to have a hung parliament, with Labour and Lib-Dems, a deep depression sets in.

Kathleen returns from buying the bread, with two rather large cakes to cheer us up. Then she starts to ponder, keeping half of hers for tomorrow. Only she could think like that instead of just getting stuck into it. In the event, she weakens and we scoff the lot.

Around lunch time, we get English neighbours, they have come from Benicassim, trying to escape the rain, and are heading for France, for the first time since Wednesday, the sun breaks through the cloud.

I go out on my bike, initially to scout out a cycle track north, towards Roses, but I give up when the flood water is almost half way up my wheels. I end up searching for a decent supermarket, in San Pere Pescador, which I fail to find.

Kathleen predictably opts to sit / lie in the sun. By 16:00, she is sitting in the sun playing her guitar, and attracts more English people. One of them is a Lidl fan, and tells her about wine for 0.65Euro a bottle, from Lidl, the hunt for a Lidl takes on a new urgency.

Sorry for the lack of pictures over the past few days, but the weather has been too miserable for photographs.

May 4th 2010 - May 5th 2010

Sant Pere Pescador – Aquarius – ASCI 2010-1660 Continued


Last night, the weather got worse and worse, in addition to the rain, by 22:00 the wind was strong enough for us to decide we had to take the awning in, to prevent it from blowing itself to pieces.

I have often watched yacht racing, or indeed plain simple sailing on TV and thought “that looks like fun”. Well after taking an awning down, in pouring rain and with a howling wind, but with at least the ground underneath me staying still, I have changed my mind, there is no way I would want to do that with a boat moving about under my feet. So, scratch sailing as a future hobby.

The rain continued, along with the wind, all night, by (Tuesday) morning the rain had stopped, but the wind had got stronger.

Our groundsheet (from the awning), which was pegged down, had blown away, fortunately it was wrapped around a palm tree a few hundred yards away and I was able to retrieve it.

Around the site there are satellite dishes, branches etc scattered about.

The good news is that by 17:00 the wind has dropped, the bad news is, it is raining rather heavily.

Things are getting desperate, we are down to our last bottle of wine!

It continued to pour with rain all evening and most of the night. The noise of the rain on the roof was so loud we could not hear the sound track of the film we were trying watch, so we just had to drink the wine.

Wednesday dawned, dry, calm but overcaste.

Not much will be happening today, it is a full hair dressing day, plus using washing machine to wash clothes etc.

Oops!, not sure how I have just managed that, but I made posts out of order, 29th April seems to have been missplaced, sorry!

Starting around lunch time, the sun came out, nice and warm, everything looks so much better when the sun is shining.

Cycled into San Pere Pescador, to buy vegetables, on return put awning up, dried ground sheet etc etc.

19:30 now and it is raining again!

April 29th 2010

Playa Tropicana – Alcossebre (Castellon) – ACSI2010-1559, continued

We have a gentle cycle along the coast, as far as the lighthouse north of Alcossebre, and a nose around the marina, The marina is unusual in that whilst is does have a few bars and eating places, open to the public, it is mostly closed to the public and reserved for boat users.

We stop off and have a leisurely lunch of beers and Pizza, at the beach side bar, where the waitress sang happy birthday, when I bought my giant banana split. We have more conversation with her today, in a mixture of English, Spanish and French, and learn she is in fact Romanian.

Kathleen decides to pay for the beers and Pizzas, big whow!, so sorry Bryan (Crick), but it has happened (ie Kathleen buying lunch) and you missed it!, maybe next time.

We cycle back to the site in laid back mood, amusing ourselves by seeing who can cycle up the small hills along the way in the highest gear. Kathleen is in a particularly carefree mood, not sure what has caused that, is it spending her money?, or the lunch time drinks?

April 30th 2010 – May 3rd 2010

Gava (Barcelona) – Tres Estrellas – ASCI 2010-1603


The site is surprisingly quiet, given the location. It is close to Barcelona Airport and is located between a very busy dual carriageway (C31 going into Barcelona) and a Beach. But neither road noise, nor aircraft noise appears to be a problem. The selling point is that you can get a bus (every 30 minutes) from just outside the gate into Barcelona.

After getting ourselves set up and having something to eat, we walk along to check exactly where the bus stop is, what time the buses are etc etc. It all looks to be pretty straight forward. There is a “working girl” with her plastic chair set up just a few yards from the bus stop, so that at least should provide some entertainment while we wait.

Saturday, and I need to revise my view of the aircraft noise. Presumably, the wind has changed direction, and Jumbo jets are thundering overhead as they take off and head over the sea to gain height. Fortunately we are going out for the day, so it will not bother us. Hopefully the wind will have turned by tomorrow!

We head off for the bus, there is quite a queue or people at the bus stop, mostly from the Campsite.

No sign of the “working girl”, must be too early for her, or maybe she gets weekends off. If she does, I don't suppose she spends the weekend in bed, that would be a sort of busman's holiday wouldn't it?

The bus arrives, 1.40Euro each, for what turns out to be a 45 minute bus journey, not bad compared to home. There is another English couple on board, Kathleen chats to them. Buses here work pretty much the same as at home, ie you press the bell when you get to the stop where you want to get off. This means you have to know where you are going. Aware that we have to find our way back here, I occupy myself with noting landmarks as we travel, including what turns out to be the all important kilometre number near the bus stop.

At some point on the journey a woman in a sophisticated electric wheelchair gets on the bus. This is quite an operation, since the driver has to deploy a slide out ramp, so that she can “drive” the wheelchair onto the bus. This is all done from his cab, but not without much shouting, which seems to be the Spanish way.

The wheel chair looks as if it has been in the Monte Carlo rally, with mud spattered all over the wheels. I cannot help but notice that her shoes also look very scuffed and worn. I glance at Kathleen, who I can see has noted the same thing, and I just know she is thinking the same as me, “how do you wear out your shoes if you are in a wheel chair?”

Our temporary English acquaintances are planning to take the tour bus, none of that simple stuff for us, this is an adventure, and we intend to do it from the map, using our own heads.

We take a chance and get off the bus at what looks a likely stop, Rotanda de Universidad, if that means anything to you, no, I thought not. The lady in the wheel chair also gets off here.

It turns out to be a reasonable choice, we are only a short distance from the “traditional” Gothic Cathedral, which we visit first.

As always seems to be the case when you want to take a photograph, major renovation is underway, complete with large crane.

The lady in the wheelchair is also there, she appears to be well known to the half dozen or so beggars arranged at the door.

We do the tourist thing of wandering around looking at the interior, the woman in the wheelchair is in there too, is she stalking us for having unkind thoughts?

One of the things in the Cathedral is a very ornate horsedrawn carriage. The information notice tells us it is connected to the Sagrada Family, and has something to do with a place called “El Rocio”, which we visited in Southern Spain some four years ago.

Kathleen notices there is a mass in progress, in a side chapel, and she has only missed the first ten minutes. She is able to go to mass, and in a cathedral, so that is double points, she even drags me along, so that is a triple word score. It also means the problem (challenge, sorry), of finding a church, is out of the way for another week.

After mass, we settle in a café for a coffee, and use the opportunity to study our street map.

We decide to explore the area surrounding the Cathedral, which appears to be a network of narrow pedestrian streets and alleys, whilst around the outside perimeter of the Cathedral are a series of quiet cloisters.

In one of the cloisters at the side of the Cathedral, there are some fountains, and a pond with goldfish and geese. Not sure what the significance is, presumably there were a source of food for the priests and monks in past times.

Next we head toward the Port area, but enroute we encounter a very noisy but good natured demonstration.

A few hundred people are marching with placards, and accompanied by a “band”, which seems to consist almost entirely of very loud drums.

The role of the chap at the far right of the picture, with the beard, seems to be to walk backwards and pound his drum as hard as he can, whilst the women in the middle ranks do a sort of Salsa rhythm dance, and those at the back, who have even bigger drums, make a LOT of noise.

I suppose even if their protest is unsuccessful, they may be able to make a claim for industrial deafness.

There is also a chap “locked” in a sort of makeshift prison cell, made of cardboard, painted to look like iron bars, again complete with placards.

Obviously the placards are all in Spanish, but as far as I can tell:

the chap “locked” in the prison cell is a protest against the banks, bankers and third world debt,

and

the rest of it is a demonstration by the Spanish equivalent of Unison, protesting against the credit crunch, privatisation and public spending cuts.

I am not sure the protest will do them any good, but it certainly seems like good fun, and given the low profile police prescence, they are not anticipating any serious trouble.

We make our way to the former harbour area, most of which now seems to have become an upmarket marina complex, which seems to be the pattern in most cities with former dockyards, these days.

There are some very large and expensive looking boats berthed here, probably owned by Bankers, and third world leaders, maybe the protesters will come to the Marina?.

A craft market in full swing (what joy).

Fortunately it is getting near lunch time, so we do not stay too long.

Next we head for La Rambla.

Although I have heard La Rambla mentioned, by just about everyone who has been to Barcelona, I have no idea what to expect.

It is a long, tree lined, colourful, pedestrianised street, with hundreds of people strolling about.

There are stalls selling everything from live chickens to Messi football shirts, as well as pavement cafes.

The surrounding streets are narrow and quaint, with numerous bars, shops and eating places.

We choose a café for Lunch. Kathleen not being the most adventurous eater has Tortilla (ie omelette with potato in it), whilst I have Calamari, accompanied of course by the inevitable bottle of wine.

It is great fun to sit eating our lunch and watching the street scenes unfold. There are acrobats, jugglers, and people pretending to be statues.

This couple were sitting next to us, and had enormous glasses of beer. They must have been at least a litre, but perhaps more, and they appeared to be there for the duration.

The "entertainment" is totally informal. Someone just stops walking along, and begins juggling with Indian Clubs, or perhaps a little group of two or three begin doing acrobatics on the pavement.

Obviously they are doing it for money, and a collection is mounted at the end of the display, but it is all very low key, and if they begin to pester the diners and drinkers too much, the waiters shoo them away, but no one gets uptight, and it is all very jolly.

There is even a little group of hustlers with the three matchbox trick.

At one point two policemen on motor scooters arrive to arrest them. They are too quick for the police and spirit away their equipment to an accomplice, who disappears in the crowd, then the other two pretend to just be strolling along with the crowd. Their pockets are searched, but nothing is found of course. The Police depart and within ten minutes, they are back fleecing gullible passers by.

After lunch, the plan is to visit the unfinished Guidi Cathedral, via the city park.

As we stroll through the myriad of small streets, we hear violin music.

In a small courtyard off the street we are walking along a young chap is giving an informal violin recital.

In one corner of the square are steps to some civic building, and he has an audience sitting on the steps listening.

We join the small crowd of listeners on the steps and enjoy the music for a while.

At one point a small council street sweeper / refuse van enters the square.

The driver realises he is disturbing the performance, does a U-Turn, pauses in front of the musician drives in a little wiggle, and exits the square, allowing the "concert to continue undisturbed.

The musician bows to him, and the audience applaud.

Kathleen goes across to make a request (Meditation), but he did not have it on his backing music, so could not play it. Instead he talks her into buying a CD of his Violin music. We listen to it when we get back to the van, it is very pleasant.

Eventually, we continue on our way to find the Gaudi Cathedral.

First we come to the very impressive Arc de Triomf, which is at the start of a long avenue leading into the Parc de la Ciutadella (city park).

I am not sure quite what the reason is for this beautiful arch, there is no plaque or explanation as far as I can see.

From the history I was taught at school, I do not know when the Spanish last had a victory to celebrate, it must have been before the Armada.

Unless of course you are talking about football.

Perhaps they built it just in case, but then again, given the manyana culture here it seems unlikely.

One complaint about Barcelona, there appears to be a shortage of public toilets, either that or they hide the signposts to them.

As we make our way toward the Guidi Cathedral, we pass a petrol station, with a toilet visible.

Unfortunately it is locked, but the kindly young man sweeping the forecourt takes pity on a desperate pensioner and loans Kathleen the key, without expecting her to buy a gallon of petrol.

Guidi’s Cathedral is unlike anything we have ever seen anywhere.

Unfortunately because it is not finished, there are cranes and scaffolding to spoil the view.

At one side it looks like a traditional Cathedral, but as you look at it from left to right, it becomes a sort of fantasy building of rounded towers and features which look as if they have been made of slightly molten candlewax.

Over the main door, is the story of the crucifixion starting with the last supper, then the Garden of Gethsemene and the stations of the cross in sculptures.














I don’t want to turn this into a toilet blog, but for any future deperate visitors, there is a public toilet opposite Guidi’s Cathedral.

It highlights a problem however with public toilets.

When you enter the toilet, the light comes on automatically, but it only stays on for a limited time.

If you have been waiting a long time and your need takes longer than the light timer, you are plunged into darkness.

A tip, flushing the toilet puts the light back on! Easier for a man, than a woman of course (think about it). So our new term now is “a one light wee, or a two light wee”.

All we have to do now is find the bus stop to get back to the campsite.

I manage to navigate us back to the general area where we got off the bus, but we cannot find the bus stop. Kathleen so far has been “very good”, and has shown patience in waiting for me to consult the map (she has left her glasses back at the van, so I am in charge of the map).

The concern is that after 19:00 the buses run less frequently, and it is now 18:15.

Kathleen cannot keep up the being patient, and starts marching on ahead, so we circle the bus stop several times without actually finding it. But success at last, we arrive at the bus stop, just as “our” bus pulls in.

We even manage to get off at the correct place, thanks to my noting of the kilometre number (I am just too smart).

We may not have done the standard tourist thing, and I am sure we have missed numerous famous museums and grand buildings, but we have had a wonderful day, in Barcelona. It is a great place, I would recommend a visit.

Sunday, is a lazy day, to recover from all of the walking of yesterday. The wind has not changed direction, and jumbo jets continue to thunder overhead as they climb over the sea.

The teabags, get only one mention.

Sunday overnight, the weather changes, it pours with rain all night.

Just for those of you who thought we never have a bad day, Monday is such a day. We have to pack everything up in pouring rain.

It would never have been a pleasant drive around Barcelona, but in pouring rain, with a cloud of spray thrown up by the heavy lorries, it is even more dismal.

The rain continues for the whole journey.

We arrive at our next site, still raining.

Sant Pere Pescador - Aquarius - ACSI 2010-1660

This site was recommended to us about four years ago, when we were making our first ever Campervan trip to France, by a couple called David and Kay.

So far the recommendation appears to be well founded.

But the rain has not let up for a minute, it is now 20:45 and still pouring down!

Sorry it is such a long post to read, but we have had no WiFi for several days, it is free here!