Les Oliviers, Oraison (ACSI2009-1282) N43.92295 E5.92361
The end of our time on the Mediterranean. From now on we will be going steadily North, and towards home.
The route is spectacularly scenic, and initially all is well. Then the arguments with the satnav begin. We are by now in a fairly remote area of the Var region, near the Gorges du Verdon. It quickly becomes clear that the map in the satnav is not accurate, since according to the display we are often not even on a road, and sometimes the spoken instructions come thick and fast (bear left, take next right, turn around when possible…etc) and make little sense. The satnav “voice” is a woman, Kathleen’s comment is “I think she has been dropped on her head”. Regular followers will know that Kathleen and the satnav do not get on. My theory is that she does not like being told what to do by a woman. In the past we have changed the voice to a man, but that did not help. I think she just does not like being told what to do. We get hopelessly snarled up in a place called Valensole, we manage to get out of the village, and find somewhere to stop so we can consult the map. By this time the satnav is not receiving a satellite signal and so is giving no instructions at all (in a huff). The problem is that the road signs say we are on the D4, but according to our map, the D4 is no where near where we actually are! We eventually resort to turning around, negotiate our way back through Valensole, and simply watch for signposts. Eventually we spot a signpost to Oraison, and follow it along the D15, which is very narrow and twisty, fortunately we do not meet any large oncoming traffic. Throughout, the satnav is not working because there is no GPS signal.
We arrive eventually, about an hour later than we had expected.
We get booked in and settle down to our lunch. After about an hour, the satnav, which is still switched on, acquires a GPS signal, comes to life and announces “you have reached your destination”, to which Kathleen replies “we know that!, we have been here for an hour”.
In the evening we cycle into Oraison and sample a French evening, ie sitting in a pavement café watching the world go by. No wonder the French have a lower coronary death rate than we do!
For those of you who are reading this and may pass this way, this site is worth a few days, the scenery is beautiful. The site is on a hillside (not too high), overlooking the valley of the River Durance, with the hills of the Luberon in the background. It is all beautifully kept and It is about 2km into the town, Oraison, with the usual collection of pavement cafes etc. If you visit, you must have a drink in the grandly named “Grand Café du Commerce”, opposite the church. It is a relic of the early 1900’s or even late 1800’s I would guess.
Friday, 19 June 2009
Friday 12th June 2009 – Tuesday 16th June 2009
Miramar Camping, La Londe-les-Maures (ACSI2009-1263) N43.11845 E6.24639
We move west along the coast, to visit an area we have intended to visit on previous trips, but never quite made it. The further west we go away from the St Tropez area, the less commercial it becomes. La Londe-les-Maures is a “real” small French town, rather than a purpose built resort.
It is Friday and we are in a new place, so church hunting is the first priority, after we have set up the van. We cycle into La Londe-les-Maures and begin looking for the church. A good bet usually is to find the “Marie” (Town Hall), almost always signposted and the church is usually nearby. We find La Marie, but no church is in site, we ask a shopkeeper who is just locking up his shop for lunch time (most small shops still close for lunch in France), and he tells us “la Bas” (over there), so we cycle off in the direction he points.
Sure enough we come to the church a few hundred metres along the road. Here we encounter another common problem in France, the name of the church is not displayed, and the notice board outside the church refers to more than one church. While Kathleen attempts to read the French notice, I wander around the corner looking for the street name, which may help us determine which church we are actually at. Sitting on a bench in the street are an elderly lady, and a younger one who I take to be her daughter or even Granddaughter. They are dressed in Moslem style including headscarves. The older one asks me (in French of course) what I am looking for (at least I think that is what she said). I first explain to her that I am English, and that my French is not good. Another torrent of French is the response. Kathleen arrives on the scene, and explains (in passable French) we are trying to find the mass times for the church.
The old lady takes it upon herself to solve the problem, and gestures to us to follow her. She leads us around the side of the church, to the priests house, and rings on the bell. An elderly priest emerges (at least I think he was a priest, since he is in his vest, and minus his dog-collar). We have clearly disturbed his siesta, and he is not too pleased. He does however confirm, yes, mass is 10:00 Sunday, at this church.
I thought it was very nice of the old lady to go to such trouble, especially when she appeared to belong to the opposition, or maybe she just enjoys disturbing Catholic priests during their siesta.
The church matter settled, we explore a little and stumble on a promising cycle path, which we follow to its end at Mauvanne (about 5 miles away), before returning to La Londe-les-Maures for a cooling beer.
This area is absolutely covered in cycle tracks, or “piste cyclible” as they would have it. So we visit the Tourist Information Office and attempt to get a map which will allow us to cycle to Hyeres, which we have been told is worth a visit. We are not too successful at obtaining a map, but we cycle off anyway, you cannot go too far wrong if you keep the sea on your left, I tell Kathleent. We get to Hyeres Plage, which we subsequently discover is further than Hyeres. It is fairly easy going, although there is a reasonable distance on the road, which is never too much fun. After an invigorating coffee (yes, coffee), we head back, and following the signs back to La Londe-les-Maures, we follow a quieter and more pleasant route back, although it is longer. We cover a respectable 20 miles, and on our return I treat Kathleen to an ice cream (I am just too generous, I know).
After lunch. Kathleen opts for the beach, I have run out of books to read, and I have read all of the English newspapers we have, so my options on the beach are severely limited (those of you who have been following regularly will understand why), so I set off to further explore the available cycle tracks.
I am instructed, that on my return I must go to the beach and help Kathleen carry her gear back. So I have to wander along a beach of (mostly) topless women, looking for Kathleen (who I know will have her top on, so this narrows down the odds of finding her). It is a difficult task, but someone has to do it, and I rise to the occasion. I manage to find her before it gets dark.
I rustle up a fairly passable spaghetti bolognaise for our evening meal, not bad if I say so myself, even if we are missing half of the ingredients in our sparsely filled cupboards, a trip to the supermarket is needed urgently.
While I clear away the debris of our meal and do the washing up, Kathleen mounts a concert on her guitar for our Dutch and German neighbours. It is amazing how they all know the same 60’s repertoire (Dylan, Baez, Everleys etc etc), true they are mostly in our age group, I can only think they all spent their teenage years in a marijuana induced haze in Amsterdam.
On the information board at the site, there is a notice for a choir concert at the church on Saturday evening (20:30). We decide to forego an evening of drinking and cycle along there. It is quite well attended, indeed when we arrive at 20:15, there is already a queue waiting to get in. The choir sing unaccompanied, and it is rather good. At the interval, there is a little “pop group” called “Never Mind”, consisting of two boys on electric guitar one on a keyboard. They did three numbers, which all sounded the same to us, but full marks for trying, since they are very young, only 15 or 16 I would say. I did wonder that perhaps it was not a Catholic do, since there were no raffles and no bingo!, but we did make a 5Euro donation. Pity I am not an MP, I could have put it on my expenses.
Sunday and Kathleen is off to church. I find a “la Presse”, selling English newspapers and occupy myself until she emerges. They have closed off the centre of La Londe (goodness knows where all the traffic goes to) and there is a market in full swing. Slightly more fun than the “tourist” specials, many stalls selling food, in particular sausages which look about 100 years old, and enormous pans of simmering paella which smells delicious. We round off the market at what has now become our “local” with a glass of chilled rose. We cycle back to the marina for lunch overlooking the sea. Having stuffed ourselves full and had another bottle of rose, Kathleen decides that we must do some exercise to justify it, so after a suitable rest, we do a 20 mile circuit on the bikes.
Monday, after visiting the supermarket for supplies, we cycle almost to Fort de Bregancon, (which is about 10 miles away) and is, we are told, the summer retreat of the French President (ie Sarko & Carla), but wimp out about 2 miles short, then return to the van to pig out on strawberries and ice cream, plus a couple of beers. We round it off with a spell lying on the beach, where Kathleen is trying to get her tan completely even.
Tuesday is to be our last day here, so other than a hair washing exercise, during which I disappear to buy a newspaper and a loaf of delicious walnut bread, we spend our time packing away our “outside stuff”, and mostly lying about eating strawberries and ice cream. We stir ourselves in a short peddle around in the evening just to keep our muscles from seizing up!
We move west along the coast, to visit an area we have intended to visit on previous trips, but never quite made it. The further west we go away from the St Tropez area, the less commercial it becomes. La Londe-les-Maures is a “real” small French town, rather than a purpose built resort.
It is Friday and we are in a new place, so church hunting is the first priority, after we have set up the van. We cycle into La Londe-les-Maures and begin looking for the church. A good bet usually is to find the “Marie” (Town Hall), almost always signposted and the church is usually nearby. We find La Marie, but no church is in site, we ask a shopkeeper who is just locking up his shop for lunch time (most small shops still close for lunch in France), and he tells us “la Bas” (over there), so we cycle off in the direction he points.
Sure enough we come to the church a few hundred metres along the road. Here we encounter another common problem in France, the name of the church is not displayed, and the notice board outside the church refers to more than one church. While Kathleen attempts to read the French notice, I wander around the corner looking for the street name, which may help us determine which church we are actually at. Sitting on a bench in the street are an elderly lady, and a younger one who I take to be her daughter or even Granddaughter. They are dressed in Moslem style including headscarves. The older one asks me (in French of course) what I am looking for (at least I think that is what she said). I first explain to her that I am English, and that my French is not good. Another torrent of French is the response. Kathleen arrives on the scene, and explains (in passable French) we are trying to find the mass times for the church.
The old lady takes it upon herself to solve the problem, and gestures to us to follow her. She leads us around the side of the church, to the priests house, and rings on the bell. An elderly priest emerges (at least I think he was a priest, since he is in his vest, and minus his dog-collar). We have clearly disturbed his siesta, and he is not too pleased. He does however confirm, yes, mass is 10:00 Sunday, at this church.
I thought it was very nice of the old lady to go to such trouble, especially when she appeared to belong to the opposition, or maybe she just enjoys disturbing Catholic priests during their siesta.
The church matter settled, we explore a little and stumble on a promising cycle path, which we follow to its end at Mauvanne (about 5 miles away), before returning to La Londe-les-Maures for a cooling beer.
This area is absolutely covered in cycle tracks, or “piste cyclible” as they would have it. So we visit the Tourist Information Office and attempt to get a map which will allow us to cycle to Hyeres, which we have been told is worth a visit. We are not too successful at obtaining a map, but we cycle off anyway, you cannot go too far wrong if you keep the sea on your left, I tell Kathleent. We get to Hyeres Plage, which we subsequently discover is further than Hyeres. It is fairly easy going, although there is a reasonable distance on the road, which is never too much fun. After an invigorating coffee (yes, coffee), we head back, and following the signs back to La Londe-les-Maures, we follow a quieter and more pleasant route back, although it is longer. We cover a respectable 20 miles, and on our return I treat Kathleen to an ice cream (I am just too generous, I know).
After lunch. Kathleen opts for the beach, I have run out of books to read, and I have read all of the English newspapers we have, so my options on the beach are severely limited (those of you who have been following regularly will understand why), so I set off to further explore the available cycle tracks.
I am instructed, that on my return I must go to the beach and help Kathleen carry her gear back. So I have to wander along a beach of (mostly) topless women, looking for Kathleen (who I know will have her top on, so this narrows down the odds of finding her). It is a difficult task, but someone has to do it, and I rise to the occasion. I manage to find her before it gets dark.
I rustle up a fairly passable spaghetti bolognaise for our evening meal, not bad if I say so myself, even if we are missing half of the ingredients in our sparsely filled cupboards, a trip to the supermarket is needed urgently.
While I clear away the debris of our meal and do the washing up, Kathleen mounts a concert on her guitar for our Dutch and German neighbours. It is amazing how they all know the same 60’s repertoire (Dylan, Baez, Everleys etc etc), true they are mostly in our age group, I can only think they all spent their teenage years in a marijuana induced haze in Amsterdam.
On the information board at the site, there is a notice for a choir concert at the church on Saturday evening (20:30). We decide to forego an evening of drinking and cycle along there. It is quite well attended, indeed when we arrive at 20:15, there is already a queue waiting to get in. The choir sing unaccompanied, and it is rather good. At the interval, there is a little “pop group” called “Never Mind”, consisting of two boys on electric guitar one on a keyboard. They did three numbers, which all sounded the same to us, but full marks for trying, since they are very young, only 15 or 16 I would say. I did wonder that perhaps it was not a Catholic do, since there were no raffles and no bingo!, but we did make a 5Euro donation. Pity I am not an MP, I could have put it on my expenses.
Sunday and Kathleen is off to church. I find a “la Presse”, selling English newspapers and occupy myself until she emerges. They have closed off the centre of La Londe (goodness knows where all the traffic goes to) and there is a market in full swing. Slightly more fun than the “tourist” specials, many stalls selling food, in particular sausages which look about 100 years old, and enormous pans of simmering paella which smells delicious. We round off the market at what has now become our “local” with a glass of chilled rose. We cycle back to the marina for lunch overlooking the sea. Having stuffed ourselves full and had another bottle of rose, Kathleen decides that we must do some exercise to justify it, so after a suitable rest, we do a 20 mile circuit on the bikes.
Monday, after visiting the supermarket for supplies, we cycle almost to Fort de Bregancon, (which is about 10 miles away) and is, we are told, the summer retreat of the French President (ie Sarko & Carla), but wimp out about 2 miles short, then return to the van to pig out on strawberries and ice cream, plus a couple of beers. We round it off with a spell lying on the beach, where Kathleen is trying to get her tan completely even.
Tuesday is to be our last day here, so other than a hair washing exercise, during which I disappear to buy a newspaper and a loaf of delicious walnut bread, we spend our time packing away our “outside stuff”, and mostly lying about eating strawberries and ice cream. We stir ourselves in a short peddle around in the evening just to keep our muscles from seizing up!
Thursday, 11 June 2009
De la Baie, Cavalaire-sur-Mer (ACSI2009-1274) N43.16954 E6.52966
Thursday 11th June 2009
Just a little bit for those of you who think we are just on one long holiday, it is more like just normal life, except we are doing it where ever, in France at present. So today (Thursday) we know we will be leaving tomorrow, and it is necessary to do some washing, and a little shopping. We still manage to fit in a drink or two, a nice cycle ride and a bit sunbathe (weather continues to be hot and sunny, with clear blue skies and temperatures of 27C plus).
We are quite surprised to notice that the site is quite full, and on most days, several people are turned away since there are no places available. We would have expected this in the “busy” times, ie July and particularly August, but this is not even mid June yet, and School holidays have not yet started.
Just a little bit for those of you who think we are just on one long holiday, it is more like just normal life, except we are doing it where ever, in France at present. So today (Thursday) we know we will be leaving tomorrow, and it is necessary to do some washing, and a little shopping. We still manage to fit in a drink or two, a nice cycle ride and a bit sunbathe (weather continues to be hot and sunny, with clear blue skies and temperatures of 27C plus).
We are quite surprised to notice that the site is quite full, and on most days, several people are turned away since there are no places available. We would have expected this in the “busy” times, ie July and particularly August, but this is not even mid June yet, and School holidays have not yet started.
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
De la Baie, Cavalaire-sur-Mer (ACSI2009-1274) N43.16954 E6.52966
Monday 8th June - Wednesday 10th June 2009
Wednesday is market day. Now I have heard it said “once you have seen one old building you have seen them all”, or “once you have seen one old church/cathederal you have seen them all”, well the same must surely be true of French markets. Every single one of them sells the same selection of brightly coloured tablecloths, tacky jewellery, cheeses which are so smelly you could not stay in the same room as them…. Etc etc. Plus, for some reason the French insist on taking their silly little dogs to the market with them, so you need to be constantly vigilant in case you step on one of the stupid little things (a good move) or in one of their deposits (a bad move).
By lunch time we escape the market, and decide (uncharacteristically for Kathleen) , to have a take away for lunch. We buy a whole chicken, ham, potatoes, and ratatouille, from a small stall in the street, all ready cooked. This is no fast food junk, it is all beautifully cooked, and tastes superb. True it cost 20Euro, but there is enough for two meals for both of us, plus I suspect a sandwich this evening.
The guilt trip starts after we have pigged out on the takeaway, plus a couple of bottles of beer (not me, I never feel guilty about being a pig), so we spend the afternoon cycling it off.
Wednesday is market day. Now I have heard it said “once you have seen one old building you have seen them all”, or “once you have seen one old church/cathederal you have seen them all”, well the same must surely be true of French markets. Every single one of them sells the same selection of brightly coloured tablecloths, tacky jewellery, cheeses which are so smelly you could not stay in the same room as them…. Etc etc. Plus, for some reason the French insist on taking their silly little dogs to the market with them, so you need to be constantly vigilant in case you step on one of the stupid little things (a good move) or in one of their deposits (a bad move).
By lunch time we escape the market, and decide (uncharacteristically for Kathleen) , to have a take away for lunch. We buy a whole chicken, ham, potatoes, and ratatouille, from a small stall in the street, all ready cooked. This is no fast food junk, it is all beautifully cooked, and tastes superb. True it cost 20Euro, but there is enough for two meals for both of us, plus I suspect a sandwich this evening.
The guilt trip starts after we have pigged out on the takeaway, plus a couple of bottles of beer (not me, I never feel guilty about being a pig), so we spend the afternoon cycling it off.
Monday, 8 June 2009
De la Baie, Cavalaire-sur-Mer (ACSI2009-1274) N43.16954 E6.52966
Friday 5th June 2009 – Sunday 7th June 2009
Today we head off for Cavalaire-sur-Mer. When we arrive, it turns out to be a quite large “resort” type place, but not in a tacky Blackpool sort of way, so it promises to be good, with a large selection of bars and eating places to choose from, plus a marina full of rather smart boats.
Like Au Paradis des Campeurs, this place is almost all Dutch people (at least 80% I would guess), it makes you wonder is Holland completely empty?, or alternatively, what would happen if they all went home, would it be standing room only?
It is Friday, so the weekend looms near. This means only two things, ie church and hair washing day. The facilities at the site are given the thumbs up for hair washing, and the electricity supply is 10amps, so operating a hairdryer and straightners for an hour or so should pose no problem. This only leaves the search for the church. We set off on our bikes, with vague directions from the Receptionist, after a false start we find the church and establish mass times. Then a cycle along the seafront, followed by a pitcher of chilled Rose, in a small bar.
We have reached that point in the trip, where the end is now clearly visible (ie about four weeks to go). This is time to begin worrying about supposed weight gain by one of the party. So today (Saturday), we cycle along the coast. We do about 10 miles in total, mostly along a dedicated cycle track, and get as far as a small place called Port de Croix. Here they are in the process of setting up a stage and marquees etc to celebrate D Day landings. I was not aware of this, but according to the notices and a plaque on the beach, American and French troops landed here to begin the liberation of France from the South. No mention of us Brits.
Our little trip was rounded off by a trip to a pavement café to watch the world go by, and in deference to the drive to lose weight (by K), a couple of coffee’s rather than a beer or wine. The weather today is hot (28C) and sunny, but there is a strong wind. A quick look at the BBC website shows us that at home the weather is showers and 11C, no contest really, it still warm enough to allow us to swim in the site pool!
This evening I decide to treat Kathleen to cocktails, on the basis that this morning she did the 10 mile cycle ride without complaining once. So off we go, we resist the temptation to have “sex on the beach”, and instead settle for a “Blue Lagoon” (Vodka, curacao etc), and a “Mai Tai” (rum, cointreau etc)., followed by a couple of gin and tonics.
While we are in the bar a group of four elderly French people arrive, complete with four of those silly little dogs they like to carry around. This was a first, would you believe they had a childs buggy, in which three of the dogs were riding.
On the way back from the bar, we meet two Polish chaps, a little tipsy I suspect. They ask us “do you speak English”, when we tell them “yes we do”, they proceed to talk to us in Polish with only one English word (which is “beer”), quite why they asked us if we spoke English when their English vocabulary is limited to the phrase “do you speak English” and “beer”, is a mystery. Eventually we understand they are looking for a supermarket which sells beer, and is open. It is too late for supermarkets, so we direct them to a small shop further down the street. Off they weave.
Sunday of course is church day, it turns out to be a very long session, they are having first communion, just like Molly at home, so it lasts from 10:30 until 12:15. Gives me time to read almost all of the Sunday paper undisturbed.
Today we head off for Cavalaire-sur-Mer. When we arrive, it turns out to be a quite large “resort” type place, but not in a tacky Blackpool sort of way, so it promises to be good, with a large selection of bars and eating places to choose from, plus a marina full of rather smart boats.
Like Au Paradis des Campeurs, this place is almost all Dutch people (at least 80% I would guess), it makes you wonder is Holland completely empty?, or alternatively, what would happen if they all went home, would it be standing room only?
It is Friday, so the weekend looms near. This means only two things, ie church and hair washing day. The facilities at the site are given the thumbs up for hair washing, and the electricity supply is 10amps, so operating a hairdryer and straightners for an hour or so should pose no problem. This only leaves the search for the church. We set off on our bikes, with vague directions from the Receptionist, after a false start we find the church and establish mass times. Then a cycle along the seafront, followed by a pitcher of chilled Rose, in a small bar.
We have reached that point in the trip, where the end is now clearly visible (ie about four weeks to go). This is time to begin worrying about supposed weight gain by one of the party. So today (Saturday), we cycle along the coast. We do about 10 miles in total, mostly along a dedicated cycle track, and get as far as a small place called Port de Croix. Here they are in the process of setting up a stage and marquees etc to celebrate D Day landings. I was not aware of this, but according to the notices and a plaque on the beach, American and French troops landed here to begin the liberation of France from the South. No mention of us Brits.
Our little trip was rounded off by a trip to a pavement café to watch the world go by, and in deference to the drive to lose weight (by K), a couple of coffee’s rather than a beer or wine. The weather today is hot (28C) and sunny, but there is a strong wind. A quick look at the BBC website shows us that at home the weather is showers and 11C, no contest really, it still warm enough to allow us to swim in the site pool!
This evening I decide to treat Kathleen to cocktails, on the basis that this morning she did the 10 mile cycle ride without complaining once. So off we go, we resist the temptation to have “sex on the beach”, and instead settle for a “Blue Lagoon” (Vodka, curacao etc), and a “Mai Tai” (rum, cointreau etc)., followed by a couple of gin and tonics.
While we are in the bar a group of four elderly French people arrive, complete with four of those silly little dogs they like to carry around. This was a first, would you believe they had a childs buggy, in which three of the dogs were riding.
On the way back from the bar, we meet two Polish chaps, a little tipsy I suspect. They ask us “do you speak English”, when we tell them “yes we do”, they proceed to talk to us in Polish with only one English word (which is “beer”), quite why they asked us if we spoke English when their English vocabulary is limited to the phrase “do you speak English” and “beer”, is a mystery. Eventually we understand they are looking for a supermarket which sells beer, and is open. It is too late for supermarkets, so we direct them to a small shop further down the street. Off they weave.
Sunday of course is church day, it turns out to be a very long session, they are having first communion, just like Molly at home, so it lasts from 10:30 until 12:15. Gives me time to read almost all of the Sunday paper undisturbed.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Tuesday 2nd June 2009 – Thursday June 4th 2009
Au Paradis des Campeurs, Les Issambres (ACSI2009-1271) N43.36606 E6.71191
Les Pinedes is a very nice site, we would certainly come here again, its only drawback (for us) is that it is not cycling country.
We decide to head back for the coast to find some easier cycling country. So first we head for 1214 Green Park, Cagnes sur Mare. But it is a huge site mostly statics, and they only have two touring pitches free. So we head for Au Paradis des Campeurs, which turns out to be another good site with spotless facilities.
Enroute I enter into competition with Bryan Crick, Bryan is setting a record for breaking rear lights, I am doing the same for door mirrors, today I broke the second one. Driving across a narrow bridge, near St Aygulf, a French “white van man” speeding towards us, hit our mirror, didn’t stop of course. This time it is only the glass part, so I think it will “only” be a 100Euro to replace!
Reception are able to tell us where the nearest Peugot dealer is, and next day we set off on our bicycles to find it. Fortunately, they have a replacement mirror in stock, so we leave there happy but 106Euro poorer.
On our way back we decide to stop in St Aygulf for a beer, Kathleen buys, whilst I go to buy an English newspaper, so we can read about our thieving MPs and their expenses. Further discussion, and we decide that perhaps a portion of chips would be nice (Kathleen has obviously decided that 16 mile cycle ride justifies a bit of junk food), so I wander off and buy a couple of portions of pomme frites, which we sit and eat at the bar with our second beer (another nice thing about France, if the place does not sell food, they seem to have no problem with you bringing along your own), before wobbling our way back to the campsite.
The beach here is only a walk of 50 yards, to a nice little bay with crystal clear water, white sand, and a collection of topless women of course. The latter is a problem since it distracts me from reading my newspaper or book. I have now evolved a scale of measurement, based on the frequency you feel inclined to take a look, at the lower end of the scale is once per page, at the upper every word. There have not been any every words, so far, but we have had a once per sentence.
Today is domestic chores, Kathleen does the washing, while I cycle to the supermarket to buy some supplies, this is followed by an afternoon of lying on the beach., for Kathleen, and reading my book, for me.
Les Pinedes is a very nice site, we would certainly come here again, its only drawback (for us) is that it is not cycling country.
We decide to head back for the coast to find some easier cycling country. So first we head for 1214 Green Park, Cagnes sur Mare. But it is a huge site mostly statics, and they only have two touring pitches free. So we head for Au Paradis des Campeurs, which turns out to be another good site with spotless facilities.
Enroute I enter into competition with Bryan Crick, Bryan is setting a record for breaking rear lights, I am doing the same for door mirrors, today I broke the second one. Driving across a narrow bridge, near St Aygulf, a French “white van man” speeding towards us, hit our mirror, didn’t stop of course. This time it is only the glass part, so I think it will “only” be a 100Euro to replace!
Reception are able to tell us where the nearest Peugot dealer is, and next day we set off on our bicycles to find it. Fortunately, they have a replacement mirror in stock, so we leave there happy but 106Euro poorer.
On our way back we decide to stop in St Aygulf for a beer, Kathleen buys, whilst I go to buy an English newspaper, so we can read about our thieving MPs and their expenses. Further discussion, and we decide that perhaps a portion of chips would be nice (Kathleen has obviously decided that 16 mile cycle ride justifies a bit of junk food), so I wander off and buy a couple of portions of pomme frites, which we sit and eat at the bar with our second beer (another nice thing about France, if the place does not sell food, they seem to have no problem with you bringing along your own), before wobbling our way back to the campsite.
The beach here is only a walk of 50 yards, to a nice little bay with crystal clear water, white sand, and a collection of topless women of course. The latter is a problem since it distracts me from reading my newspaper or book. I have now evolved a scale of measurement, based on the frequency you feel inclined to take a look, at the lower end of the scale is once per page, at the upper every word. There have not been any every words, so far, but we have had a once per sentence.
Today is domestic chores, Kathleen does the washing, while I cycle to the supermarket to buy some supplies, this is followed by an afternoon of lying on the beach., for Kathleen, and reading my book, for me.
Monday, 1 June 2009
Wednesday 27th May 2009 – Monday 1st June 2009
Les Pinedes, La Colle-sur-Loop (ACSI2009-1262) N43.68171 E7.08328
A combination of the time we spent exploring the narrow streets of old Albenga, plus the lack of a cycle track on the rather busy road from there to Allasio, meant that yesterday we did not make it to Allasio as planned. So today, we decided we would drive the coast road on our way back to France, although the estimated journey time was 3.5 hours on this route, rather than 1.45hours on the motorway.
It is well worth the extra time, since you pass along a beautiful coast line with magnificent views. The resorts you pass through Allasio, San Remo etc are mostly relics of the late 1950’s and early 1960’s tourist boom, but none the less pretty for that.
It would have been wise to rejoin the motorway before Nice, since this a bit of a nightmare to negotiate, particularly in a campervan, but when did I ever take the easy option?
Once in France, we stopped at the first supermarket we came to, to replenish supplies. The difference between shopping in France and Italy is really noticeable, with the French supermarkets having a far better range of products available. This is particularly noticeable with fresh fruit and vegetables, where the range available and quality in France far outshines that available in Italy, in our experience.
We arrive at La Pinedes, to find we have caught up with a couple of GB caravanners who we last saw at Lake Trasimeno. Unusually compared to the sites we have visited thus far, this site appears to be “little England”, with about 50% of the people in our area from the UK (although to be fair, four of them it turns out are Welsh).
Once we are set up, I set out on the bike to explore and find the church, my usual first task. Although the village (and church) are only 1.5miles away, I quickly discover this is not (casual) bike riding country. The 1.5 miles to the village is almost all up a reasonably steep hill, OK coming back of course.
I investigate the cost of hiring a car, to allow us to explore, but at 102Euro for 2 days, we decide to hang fire and see how we get on with the bus. So on Saturday, we walk into the village (Colle sur Loop), and go to the Tourist Information Office, get a bus timetable.
We are told, that for 1Euro we can ride the bus to Vence, and that within a three hour period from purchasing our ticket, we can get on and off the bus, without having to buy another ticket.
Armed with our timetable off we go. We arrive at Vence, no problem, the old quarter is quaint and beautiful, and there is a market on, so between this and taking photographs there is enough to keep Kathleen occupied for a while. Then we decide to get on the bus back towards Colle sur Loop, but get off at St Paul de Vence. First problem, the bus driver will not accept our ticket, even although it is in the 3 hour time frame. Not really a problem, it is only 1Euro each, so we buy new tickets (reasoning that perhaps the three hour period, is in only one direction of travel). St Paul is a beautiful medieval village, perched on the top of a hill. It is rather touristy, but is wonderfully preserved. Once we have had enough of that, we head back for the bus. Same problem, driver will not accept our ticket although it is in the 3 hour timeframe. So we buy another ticket. Still a lot cheaper that hiring a car (6euro vs 102Euro), but someone has their wires crossed, either tourist information are giving out the wrong information, or no one has told the bus drivers!
We return to Colle sur Loup, with the intention of eating at a very nice pizza place we had spotted earlier. It is closed!, so we wander along to the restaurant/bar beside the bank, which appears to be the most popular place in the village, and is open. We have the “plat du jour” (steak in pepper sauce, with chips and salad), and a half litre of Rose. Kathleen does not like mayonnaise or salad dressing in any form (a regular problem), so attempted to explain to the waitress than she did not want dressing on her salad. In the event she got the steak minus the pepper sauce, and salad with dressing. Clearly we need to swot up on the French! It was very nice however (at least mine was!).
During my checking of mass times, I had determined (according to my O level French – Failed), that there was no mass at any of the churches in the region, and that instead, there was a “synod” to be held in Nice, to celebrate Pentecost. There was even a request for people with spare seats in their car to offer transport to those who needed it. The same notice was present in the churches at Vence, and St Paul de Vence.
My word was not taken for this, so, Sunday morning, we walked into the village, in time for mass at 11am, only to find I was right. I retired to the bar, while Kathleen held her own private mass in the church. The sermon was of course delightfully short.
The trip to the bar was interesting as well as refreshing. The waitress had dyed orange hair and was dressed in a purple 1920’s style tasselled mini dress, and 6” high heels, this at 11:00 on a Sunday morning, maybe she had not changed from the night before.
It is probably worth mentioning the young lady who serves in the boulangerie in the village, she wears to most revealing outfits, typically, a mini-mini skirt, high heels and a diaphanous see through blouse. Consumption of bread in Colle-sur-loup by the male population is apparently ten times the national average, I wonder why?
Disaster strikes, this is terrible, we may have to go home immediately!, Kathleen’s hair drier has broken down.
I suspect it is a broken wire, where the wire emerges from the body of the drier, but it is held together with tamper proof screws, so I cannot get it apart.
It is a holiday here (Pentecost) on Monday 1st June, even our favourite little bar in Colle-sur-loup is closed. But undaunted we risk a bus ride to Vence where there is a Le Clerc. We buy a replacement hair drier, 24Euro, pretty much the same as it would have been at home, so all is well again.
On our return journey, we meet a very elderly English couple waiting at the bus stop, they live in Jersey, but the lady recognises our accents, and informs us she was born in Darlington, he is a Prince Philip look alike, and tells us his family have lived in Jersey for at least 500 years.
A combination of the time we spent exploring the narrow streets of old Albenga, plus the lack of a cycle track on the rather busy road from there to Allasio, meant that yesterday we did not make it to Allasio as planned. So today, we decided we would drive the coast road on our way back to France, although the estimated journey time was 3.5 hours on this route, rather than 1.45hours on the motorway.
It is well worth the extra time, since you pass along a beautiful coast line with magnificent views. The resorts you pass through Allasio, San Remo etc are mostly relics of the late 1950’s and early 1960’s tourist boom, but none the less pretty for that.
It would have been wise to rejoin the motorway before Nice, since this a bit of a nightmare to negotiate, particularly in a campervan, but when did I ever take the easy option?
Once in France, we stopped at the first supermarket we came to, to replenish supplies. The difference between shopping in France and Italy is really noticeable, with the French supermarkets having a far better range of products available. This is particularly noticeable with fresh fruit and vegetables, where the range available and quality in France far outshines that available in Italy, in our experience.
We arrive at La Pinedes, to find we have caught up with a couple of GB caravanners who we last saw at Lake Trasimeno. Unusually compared to the sites we have visited thus far, this site appears to be “little England”, with about 50% of the people in our area from the UK (although to be fair, four of them it turns out are Welsh).
Once we are set up, I set out on the bike to explore and find the church, my usual first task. Although the village (and church) are only 1.5miles away, I quickly discover this is not (casual) bike riding country. The 1.5 miles to the village is almost all up a reasonably steep hill, OK coming back of course.
I investigate the cost of hiring a car, to allow us to explore, but at 102Euro for 2 days, we decide to hang fire and see how we get on with the bus. So on Saturday, we walk into the village (Colle sur Loop), and go to the Tourist Information Office, get a bus timetable.
We are told, that for 1Euro we can ride the bus to Vence, and that within a three hour period from purchasing our ticket, we can get on and off the bus, without having to buy another ticket.
Armed with our timetable off we go. We arrive at Vence, no problem, the old quarter is quaint and beautiful, and there is a market on, so between this and taking photographs there is enough to keep Kathleen occupied for a while. Then we decide to get on the bus back towards Colle sur Loop, but get off at St Paul de Vence. First problem, the bus driver will not accept our ticket, even although it is in the 3 hour time frame. Not really a problem, it is only 1Euro each, so we buy new tickets (reasoning that perhaps the three hour period, is in only one direction of travel). St Paul is a beautiful medieval village, perched on the top of a hill. It is rather touristy, but is wonderfully preserved. Once we have had enough of that, we head back for the bus. Same problem, driver will not accept our ticket although it is in the 3 hour timeframe. So we buy another ticket. Still a lot cheaper that hiring a car (6euro vs 102Euro), but someone has their wires crossed, either tourist information are giving out the wrong information, or no one has told the bus drivers!
We return to Colle sur Loup, with the intention of eating at a very nice pizza place we had spotted earlier. It is closed!, so we wander along to the restaurant/bar beside the bank, which appears to be the most popular place in the village, and is open. We have the “plat du jour” (steak in pepper sauce, with chips and salad), and a half litre of Rose. Kathleen does not like mayonnaise or salad dressing in any form (a regular problem), so attempted to explain to the waitress than she did not want dressing on her salad. In the event she got the steak minus the pepper sauce, and salad with dressing. Clearly we need to swot up on the French! It was very nice however (at least mine was!).
During my checking of mass times, I had determined (according to my O level French – Failed), that there was no mass at any of the churches in the region, and that instead, there was a “synod” to be held in Nice, to celebrate Pentecost. There was even a request for people with spare seats in their car to offer transport to those who needed it. The same notice was present in the churches at Vence, and St Paul de Vence.
My word was not taken for this, so, Sunday morning, we walked into the village, in time for mass at 11am, only to find I was right. I retired to the bar, while Kathleen held her own private mass in the church. The sermon was of course delightfully short.
The trip to the bar was interesting as well as refreshing. The waitress had dyed orange hair and was dressed in a purple 1920’s style tasselled mini dress, and 6” high heels, this at 11:00 on a Sunday morning, maybe she had not changed from the night before.
It is probably worth mentioning the young lady who serves in the boulangerie in the village, she wears to most revealing outfits, typically, a mini-mini skirt, high heels and a diaphanous see through blouse. Consumption of bread in Colle-sur-loup by the male population is apparently ten times the national average, I wonder why?
Disaster strikes, this is terrible, we may have to go home immediately!, Kathleen’s hair drier has broken down.
I suspect it is a broken wire, where the wire emerges from the body of the drier, but it is held together with tamper proof screws, so I cannot get it apart.
It is a holiday here (Pentecost) on Monday 1st June, even our favourite little bar in Colle-sur-loup is closed. But undaunted we risk a bus ride to Vence where there is a Le Clerc. We buy a replacement hair drier, 24Euro, pretty much the same as it would have been at home, so all is well again.
On our return journey, we meet a very elderly English couple waiting at the bus stop, they live in Jersey, but the lady recognises our accents, and informs us she was born in Darlington, he is a Prince Philip look alike, and tells us his family have lived in Jersey for at least 500 years.
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