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!
Thursday, 27 May 2010
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
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.
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.
The afternoon is spent, drinking the Sherry, and listening to Kathleen singing.
Monday, 10 May 2010
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:
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.
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)
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.
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.
Saturday, 8 May 2010
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/ ).
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.
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/ ).
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