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Hargill House Caravan Club Site, Richmond (continued)
The plan today was to go into Richmond, only about 3.5 miles away, but the wind is so fierce, we have stayed in the van and read books!
Just to cheer me up, I spot that we have a puncture!, the rear passenger side van tyre is flat. There is no way I am going to attempt to jack the van up and change a wheel in this wind. We are not planning on going anywhere, so it can wait. We are having a run of bad luck with punctures, this is the second one this year!
Tuesday. The wind has dropped, and it is dry.
After breakfast, I change the wheel. There is a nail in the punctured tyre, so that will have to be fixed when we get home. In true cravan site style, our next door neighbour begins talking to me whilst I am working at changing the wheel. Another of life's coincidences is revealed, when I find that he used to visit Pyrotenax (where I once worked), and knew several people who I remembered from there. Most notably, Carol and Brian Burnett. Carol, is the cousin of my sister-in-law, Linda. Small world and all that.
We decide to take the bus to Richmond.
There is no visible bus-stop, but we are assured, by the site warden, that if we wait near the telephone box, the bus will stop for us (unofficially).
As we wait, it begins to rain, so Kathleen uses the telephone box as a bus shelter.
The bus arrives, a little late, but better late than never, and sure enough the driver stops and picks us up. There are already three people on the bus, plus a bus company employee, whose role, other than being part of the conversation, is unclear. It is clearly a very friendly bus route, each passemger who is picked up is addressed by their first name, and they in turn all know the driver's name. The route appears to be somewhat fluid as people are picked up and dropped off as required, rather than at set bus stops.
Richmond is pleasant place.
We amuse ourselves with a wandered around the town, visiting the occasional shop.
A walk around the castle. A stop for coffee and cream scones, plus a visit to the pub.
There is a market here, but not today, what a shame.
The weather is not brilliant, with showers, but, by luck we contrive to be indoors during each downpour.
The journey back on the bus is same informal affair we experienced on the way here. The departure from Richmond is even slightly delayed to wait for someone who is joining from another bus, which is running late.
We even meet the two old ladies who were on the bus when we joined it this morning, and are greeted like old friends!
Wednesday, the wind has dropped, the sun is out, the sky is blue.
We catch the bus to Richmond again, with the intention of taking a walk along the river, and treating ourselves to lunch.
The bus is almost full!
There is a company employee on board doing a survey on how frequently used the service is, and how happy (or otherwise), passengers are with it. I think the jungle drums must have alerted everyone to travel today, on the basis of "use it or lose it".
We find the walk along the river, it is a sort of circular walk.
It begins easily enough, along the river bank, but at the point where it turns to make the return, there are 231 steps up the steep valley side. Good exercise for the thighs and knees!
The return is along a ridge at the top of the gorge formed by the river.
I forgot to switch on my "Runkeeper" software, so I am not sure how far we walked, judging from the time taken, (ie 2 hours), I would estimate 6 miles.
Back in Richmond we seek out the "Bishop Blaise" pub, at the market square and have a very enjoyable lunch. We both choose Steak and Ale Pie. Mine is absolutely fine, but Kathleen complains that hers had a shortage of Steak. The manager gives us a dessert each to compensate.
We have a little time left before we catch the bus, Kathleen cannot resist a trip into the Alladins Cave which is the Yorkshire trading Company Shop, a sort of inexpensive Lakeland.
I resist this treat and buy a newspaper, plus checking out the offerings of various bakery shops.
When we board the bus, we find one of the elderly ladies from yesterday is onboard. We are greeted like long lost friends. We learn she had to return to Richmond to visit the dentist, since the crown on one of her teeth had come off.
What a friendly place this is!
Hargill House Caravan Club Site, Richmond
Since we returned from our annual trip to Europe, I have been engaged in learning to ride a motorcycle (don't ask, another one of my mad ideas). I have not been doing that 24/7 of course, but a weekly lesson together with other domestic chores was enough to prevent us from "getting away", in the campervan.
Today, we made the short journey (only about 50 miles) to Hargill House Caravan Club Site, near Richmond in North Yorkshire.
The site is the usual high standard we expect of the Caravan Club. It is located just off the A66, about 1 mile from the village of Gilling West.
Today being Sunday, we walked into Gilling West, and enjoyed a fabulous Sunday Lunch in "The White Swan" pub. It is an easy walk there, down a long hill, but of course that means up hill on the way back. A combination of a substantial Sunday Lunch, plus copious amounts of wine, and the walk up the hill, means that the rest of the afternoon was spent in a haze, dozing in the van. How decadent.
The weather is how can I say, doubtful.
The UK is in the path of the death throes of the recent hurricane which swept north up the coast of the USA, and is now blowing itself out as it tracks west across the Atlantic, so we have a windy day, with the odd shower.
My camera and photographic skills fail to show it adequately, but the wild clouds are quite fitting for the Yorkshire landscape. Hopefully we will be bathed in sunshine tomorrow, fitting or not!
Henley-on-Thames, Caravan Club - Four Oaks Site, Continued
Saturday we have to collect our hire car.
The hire company have sent a taxi to collect us, at their expense. I am only paying £45 to hire the car for 2 days, and they pay for a taxi to come 8 miles to pick us up. I am not sure I understand the economics of that!
The taxi is alarmingly late. It turns out, the taxi driver, is a law student, working as a taxi driver to pay his way through college. He is most apologetic for being late, and tells us this is his first pick up in Henley, and he had gone to the wrong caravan site.
He is thoroughly entertaining, and my concern at being late soon evaporates.
We collect the car no problem. But finding our way out of reading with no sat-nav is not easy. How on earth we will find our way back to hand the car in, remains to me seen!
We spend the evening with Gary, Susana, Gabriel, the god parents, and family.
Our return journey is somewhat fraught.
It took us 30 minutes to get to Windsor.
On the return trip, they have closed the A404M for overnight roadworks.
Kathleen has to read the map in the dark. We have a one hour tour of the countryside (in the dark) around Henley, but eventually we find the site.
Sunday, it is back to Windsor for the Christening.
Although the weather is not kind, we have a thoroughly enjoyable day.
Gabriel and the other children there, are impeccably behaved, and all goes smoothly.
Gabriel's Mexican godparents execute their role perfectly, even being called upon to do the readings in English, does not put them off their stride.
It is a barbeque afterwards at Windsor racecourse, thankfully, given that it rains none stop, they are prepared for the British weather, and the proceedings are in a Marquee, out of the rain.
We had intended to stay at Henley-on-Thames until Tuesday morning, but Monday dawns grey and wet. So we decide that after returning the hire car, we will go home.
Our concern at finding our way through the traffic snarled Reading prove groundless, with the help of Google Maps, we get there with only one minor hiccup, (for the record, I was right, it was the first exit off A329M to Oxford Road, not the second).
If you want to hire a car, based on this experience, I can recommend Enterprise Car Hire, only £45 for two days, including damage waiver, and they picked us up and dropped us off, back at the site, all included in the £45!
So back home again, where to next time?
Neufchatel-en-Bray, Camping Sainte Claire, ASCI2011-974 continued
Forgot to say, in my last post, I have had some adverse comments about the font size. Some people wanting me to pay for new glasses for them. So, I have reverted to the "normal" size font!
Hope that is better for you all.
Despite her concerns for her waistline, I convince Kathleen we should buy an apple pie from Le Clerc. They are on offer, are rather large, and look very appertising!
We buy a can of disappearing cream, to go with it.
I call it disappearing cream, because after you squirt it on your plate, it disappears faster than you can eat it!
Sunset at camping Sainte Claire.
As I have said before, this site is in within 2 – 3 hours driving distance from the ferry at Calais or Dunkirk.
However, our ferry is at 08:00 in the morning, and check in time is 07:00. This would mean leaving here at no later than 05:00 in the morning, which is not possible (Gates are closed overnight, 23:00 – 07:00).
Instead we leave just before 12:00, do some last minute wine shopping at the supermarket, and then rejoin the A16 toward Abbeville, stopping for lunch on the way.
We plan to check out upto four aires, from the All the Aires – France book, (Hondschoote, Gravelines and, Bergues, Petit Fort Phillippe) and choose the best one.
As it turned out, Gravelines is the first one we come to and it is perfectly acceptable, so we park there.
Beware if trying to find it, they have built an new roundabout on the D940, which is not mentioned in the directions, but if you keep your eyes open, you can see the campervans lined up on the quayside, so just head for them. You need to be on the East side of the small river.
Gravelines, All the Aires – France Page 450, N50 59.310’ E002 07.363’
As you can see, we are not alone, I have not counted them, but there must be at least fifty vans here, presumably all waiting to go to the ferry terminal.
We have actually overflowed the 'official' parking area. We, along with three others, are parked in an area marked "no parking camping cars". The painted lettering is faded, and hardly ledgible.
Two passing Frenchmen point out to us that we should not be parked there. One is grumpy about it, the other, on hearing we plan to be gone by 06:30 in the morning, is more amenable about it.
We get a spot overlooking the habour, this is the view from our back window.
Actually manoevering into place caused a bit of a problem.
My reversing camera (Kathleen) took fright as we approached the edge of the dock backwards.
There was a mutiny and she deserted her post, continuing the directions from outside the van, just incase I went into the dock.
We have a metre to spare, no problem.
Once we had finished parking, and Kathleen had composed herself, we discovered we had parked next to someone from Seaham, who just happened to be a patient at the surgery where Dana used to work!, small world and all that.
Sunset at Gravelines.
The evening passes without any excitement, except that, even more vans arrive.
After a quiet night, and therefore a good nights sleep, we are up at 6:00 and on our way by 06:30, to check in for the ferry.
Despite eating my usual breakfast of Cereal and fruit, while we sat in the queue waiting to board, we avail ourselves of a full English Breakfast on the boat.
The usual nightmare journey, on the M25, and we arrive at Henley-on-Thames.
Henley-on-Thames, Caravan Club - Four Oaks Site.
As is always with the Caravan Club sites, it is spot on.
The afternoon is spent in arranging a hire car, so we can travel to Windsor tomorrow and Sunday.
Annecy has much in common with the Lake District, back home. For example, lakes and mountains, after yesterdays rain, I will have to add rain to that list.
We have had several days of glorious weather, but boy when it rains, it certainly rains!
The rain went on for the whole of Tuesday.
We entertained ourselves, for part of the afternoon, by watching the Dutch couple next to us, dismantle their awning in the pouring rain, and managing to keep everything dry. In the awning they had a full camp kitchen, table, chairs etc etc, it all had to be taken apart, thoroughly shaken to get rid of the creepy-crawlies, and then stowed in the car.
They are off tomorrow, and heading for Luxembourg.
Wednesday morning and it was still pouring down.
Having amused ourselves watching them working in the rain yesterday, I felt obliged to help the Dutch couple, push their caravan off their pitch, because the wheels were beginning to settle into the grass surface, which was saturated with rain.
Then we had to pack our gear up in the rain, and head off.
We are heading to a place called Santenay, between Chalon-sur-Saone and Beaune, in the Burgundy Region.
It is quite a long journey, by our standards, we normally do only a couple of hours driving per day in the Campervan.
We are still on kat-nav, and the route is reasonably complicated.
Leave Annecy on the N508, which takes us to Bellegarde-sur-Valserine, then N84 to Pont d’Ain. On this stretch of road at a place called Cerdon, there is an incredibly deep gorge, which the road wends it’s way down and into. I had not realised how high up we were, partly because the rain and low cloud were obscuring the view. At Cerdon, a break in the cloud allowed us to see the drop into the gorge on our right. It was too dull for photographs, but there would have been no available hands to hold the camera, even if it had been bright and sunny.
From Pont d’Ain, it is the N75 to Bourg-en-Bresse, then the N79 to Macon. Here we join the N6.
I am giving all of this detail, because when you read on, you may just want to pass this way!
The rain stops by lunch time, but it remains cloudy and grey, and we stop at a large aire come Service Station for lunch.
Here we see an interesting sight, prostitutes in white vans!
Kathleen first noticed that we had parked (inadvertently of course), near a white van, driven by a blonde (dyed) woman, dressed in a VERY revealing outfit.
Soon another white van arrived, driven by another blonde (dyed).
Once given the clue, Kathleen soon spotted another three white vans, two with blonde (dyed) drivers. The third one with no sign of the driver, presumably she was in the back doing business.
The sight of prostitutes plying their trade by the roadside is quite common in Italy, but, in white vans is a new one. I suppose why not, you get mobile Valet services, mobile mechanics, mobile windscreen replacement, why not mobile prostitutes?
After this bit of excitement we rejoined the N6, to Chalon-sur-Saone, and then on to Chagny, and Santenay via a small local road.
Santenay, Des Sources Santenay, ASCI2011-1321
The site is fine, not the best I have ever been on, but facilities are perfectly adequate, and it is tidy and quiet.
The site was recommended by an old chap (yes, I know I am an old chap, but he was really old, ie 74 plus), who we met at Annecy, he recommended it based on the excellent cycling.
He was certainly right about that, according to the cycle route map we were given at Reception, there are hundreds of kilometres of cycle routes, along the canals and through the vineyards.
Given that the weather had improved a bit on Tuesday, we set off on one of the cycle tracks, heading in the direction of Chalon-sur-Saone.
We had a bit of a false start finding the track, for future reference, on leaving the site, you turn right at the railway crossing, and cross the railway line.
The track is excellent and follows the Canal du Centre, it is very pretty, with plenty of passing pleasure craft.
This former lock keepers cottage (all of the locks are automated now) caught our eye, it has an idyllic spot.
The track was so good, and the cycling so easy, we were soon within five miles of Chalon-sur-Saone.
Kathleen (surprisingly, to me), was all for going on to Chalon, which we did. Here, a bit of disappointment, the signposting, which up until this point had been spot-on, disappeared completely, and try as we might, we could not find our way to the town centre!
Undaunted, we stopped for our picnic, and then headed back along the canal.
At one of the locks, we spotted this monster, just entering the lock, with only inches to spare all round.
We lingered to watch. It is quite fascinating, in only a few minutes the lock was filled with water, and the boat was at our level, ready to float out.
Our return took us all of the way along the cycle track to Santenay, by which time we had cycled 34.5 miles. Kathleen prefers to express it in kilometres (55 kilometres), since it sounds even further.
A drink was called for, so we sat in the village square beside this magnificent fountain and had a couple of beers each.
The ordering of drinks turned into an amusing sequence.
The norm is, a waiter/waitress comes and asks what you want. After almost five minutes of sitting there, you know who was becomming impatient.
So I decided to go inside and order our drinks. Prompted by my action, a woman from another group also went inside.
Here, a young waitress was having a bad expresso coffee machine day. There was froth everywhere, and she had a queue of customers waiting inside as well as outside.
Soon a very bossy and officious older waitress appeared, instead of doing the sensible thing, ie let the young (and presumably untrained) waitress do the simple thing, ie serve the beers, whilst she attended to the expresso machine, she instead took over everything, and soon had chaos with orders mixed up etc etc.
Myself, and the lady who followed me inside to order, went outside to wait for our drinks to be delivered, since things were getting fraught inside.
I briefly explained to Kathleen what was going on. Then the bossy waitress appeared, and literally banged our drinks on the table, and similarly our neighbours. This sent Kathleen into fits of the giggles, and she was soon joined by the occupants of the other table. The bossy waitress was not amused!
The end of our trip is in sight.
We are now heading, slowly, North and West, to arrive in Dunkirk for our ferry early on Friday 10th.
We still have a week to go of course, but more of our time will be taken up with travelling, than has been for the past few weeks.
Tonight we plan to stay at an Aire, Kathleen has picked out three “possibles” from our “All the Aires France, 3rd Edition”, book. We prefer to have Electric hook-up if possible, but we can manage without.
The reason for choosing more than one, of course, is to allow for there being no spaces, or the Aire not being as good as described.
We are still on kat-nav, and past experience is that directions in the Aires Book are often suspect.
For anyone reading, who may come this way, here is what we thought of them.
Our first choice is at Decize (Page 172, 60, N46 49.914’ E003 27.664’), the description in the book is very promising. We find it relatively easily, although we have yet to see Allee Marcel Merle, mentioned in the directions). It is alongside a river, and there were about ten vans parked along the riverbank. In other respects, the reality was not much like the book, unfortunately. Only a service point, with charging outlet, rather than Electric hook-up, and the whole area was rather shabby. There were several “fairground” type trailers parked up, and the final straw for Kathleen, a few white vans (no drivers visible!).
We decide to move on to our second choice. St Benin D’Azy (Page 168, 44, N47 00.067’ E003 23.721’). There is one van already there, and plenty of room for (9) more, This is fine. It is near the road, but still quiet. Again effectively no Electric hook-up, but a service point with a single electric point delivering 1hr electricity for 2Euro. The village is pleasant, with an Intermache supermarket. We decide to at least stop and look around. There appears to be only one bar, which we visited. Kathleen had an amusing (to me anyway) experience with the “continental” style toilet here, but I am forbidden from describing it in the blog. You must ask her about it.
It is only four o’clock in the afternoon, and we have exhausted the village attractions, with no electricity we cannot even play our music (well one of can with the ipod battery and head phones), but the docking station requires mains power, so entertainment options are limited. We have no reservations about stopping the night here, but we decide to risk moving on to our third choice, in the hope there is space and it is OK.
La Charite sur Loire (Page 170, 50, N47 10.480’ E003 00.674’).
This is actually on an island in the Loire. The book says space for three vans. But, in fact, the Aire is split in two. There are spaces for three vans on the river bank (there were actually four vans there when we arrived), and a further six in Quai Romain Mollot, where the service point is located. The street (Quai Romain Mollot) is mentioned in the directions, but the street sign is so small (and only visible when approaching from the opposite river bank to Charite sur Loire!), that you would have to be very observant to spot it when driving!
We were lucky, we got the last space in the area near the service point. Effectively no electric hook-up, but two charging points. You pay for Electric/Water, if needed, using your credit/debit card.
It is in an urban area, but very quiet, we heard no noise during our stay, and woke to birdsong.
You can walk across the bridge to the main part of town, which you see here, from the bridge.
The town has enough to amuse yourself for a few hours with a choice of bars and Cafes.
There is a rather magnificent and ancient church. Next to it (in the courtyard at the main door), is the tourist office, and (important to all Aire users) good toilets. That is “real” toilets, no “continental” style, Kathleen is relieved (no pun intended, ha ha) to see.
I had thought I had taken enough photographs of churches, but this was rather impressive, in an ancient sort of way.
as you can see, from the green damp stains, on the left in this photigraph, it is not the best maintained or restored church I have seen, but, still impressive,
from the outside as well as the inside.
Finally, probably of more interest to most of you who may be reading this, and who may pass this way.
If you go to the auberge/bar/cafe near the main door of the church, you can get a half litre pitcher of “vin rose”, for only 5 Euro. It is good stuff, even Kathleen remarked that she knew she’d had a drink.
Saturday morning, and off we go.
An easy run, much of it along a “free” motorway, brings us to Gien.
Poilly-lez-Gien/Gien, Camping Touristique de Gien, ASCI2011-1297
We are again on kat-nav. If you are trying to find this site from the directions in the ASCI book, it is important to remember a few points. The site is NOT on the Gien side of the river, it is on the opposite bank. If you arrive on a Saturday morning (as we did), there is a market on the Gien side of the river, and the traffic is horrendous!
Once we find it, the site is good, right on the banks of the Loire, with good views over to Gien, on the opposite bank remember.
We have been neglecting our chores, and our first task is to catch up on some washing, here you see Kathleen being the super efficient camping housewife.
Chores done, we walk into Gien.
The intention is to find the church, in readiness for Kathleen tomorrow.
As you can see, it does not take much finding. It is massive and right next to an equally huge Chateau (covered in scaffolding unfortunately).
When we eventually make it to the top of the hill, where the church is located, we find it is a mixture of old and new.
The bell tower is original 14th century. The remainder was rebuilt in 1954, after being destroyed by a bomb, and subsequent fire, on 15th June 1940, during World War 2.
The current church is dedicated to Joan of Arc. The information leaflet informs us, there have been three previous religious buildings on this site.
The first, a chapel, was built along with a castle, in the 9th century, by order of Emperor Charlemagne.
In 1514, the royal collegiate church, dedicated to Saint Stephen and built by order of Anne de Beaujeu, Countess of Gien, daughter of King Louis 19th. The 14th century bell tower was retained. This church was damaged during the French Revolution, and deconsecrated in 1828.
In 1832, the church dedicated to Saint Peter was opened on the site, still with the 14th century bell tower.
The main part of the church is now built in brick. Actually, according to the information leaflet, it is built in reinforced concrete, and clad with bricks. Perhaps they are not taking any chances this time.
Hey!, you get everything with me, Geography lessons, History lessons, there is no end to it!
If you come this way, the “Pause Cafe”, in the traffic free main street, have free wifi, plus cold beer of course.
Whilst we were sitting at the Pause Cafe, Kathleen remarked that it felt oppresively hot, as if thunder was due, sure enough by 20:00, we had a thunderstorm, tried to capture the lightning, but only managed the rain drops!
I do not know if thunderstorms are to be expected at this time of year in France, but we do seem to have had quite a few. Always short and sharp fortunately. I wonder if it is associated with the ash cloud from the Icelandic Volcano?
Sunday, Kathleen is up abnormally early and going through the hair washing ritual, prior to going to church. I obtain an English newspaper, and catch up with the news, after church, we have lunch in the restaurant at the campsite.
There are several promising cycle rides signposted from here. One in particular to Briare looks good. But there is no chance of getting Kathleen on a bicycle on the same day she has washed her hair. We will have to save that for next time we pass this way.
Believe it or not, after a hot and sunny day, another thunderstorm at 18:00, which lasts for an hour, and then clears into a beautiful evening.
We leave Gien on Monday morning, and head towards Chartres. This is a route we have not used for some time (N154), Chartres, Dreux, Evereux, and ultimately on past Rouen. But for today, we stop off at Brezolles, to do another night at an Aire.
Brezolles, All the Aires France 3rd edition Page 196, N48 41.450’ E001 04.183’
When we arrive, at about 15:00, only two other French vans here.
By 20:00, there are eight French vans, us, and one other British van.
There is no electricity, only fresh water, and waste disposal,, both free.
It is a pleasant spot, near the road, but not too noisy, and the traffic diminishes to almost nothing overnight.
The town has a bar and shops, and although (like us) it is probably passed it’s best before date, it is quite picturesque (the town, that is).
Kathleen tested out the toilet, and it is a “real” toilet, no complaints on that score.
As we walked into town, there was a bit of excitement!, everyone is out on the street to watch.
A really large load (it is the blade from a wind turbine), was guided through the village by an escort of two motorcycle police.
As you can see from the picture, this thing is massive.
It gets stuck and cannot move forward at this point, because of a car which had been coming in the opposite direction.
The police motorcyclist instructs the car driver to move onto the pavement, until he is almost touching the window of the shop, and the driver of the large load managed to squeeze past.
Just as well, I would not like to contemplate reversing that thing!
Job done, and like police everywhere, they just rode off and left the chaos of traffic behind them, to sort itself out.
There is a church in the village, but it does not appear to be in use. I say that, because the door does not appear to have been opened for about a hundred years!
In common with almost all French villages, however, the clock works, and chimes every hour. This one is rather amusing, since it plays a little tune (oh Claire de la lunar, we think it was). As you may guess from the last remark, “tune” is perhaps an optimistic description.
The good news is, the chimes stop over night. Whoever looks after it, must be an early riser, because the chimes begin again at seven o’clock in the morning.
On the few occasions we have used aires, we have noticed, the French seem to retire early (ie by 22:00), I would therefore expect them to be first up, but no, quite often we are up, ready and away before they have even put in an appearance. Today is different, one of the French is up and on his way by 08:30, by which time I am just starting my chores (ie empty the rubbish, dispose of Kathleen’s empty gin bottle, etc).
Tuesday, lunch time, and we arrive at one of our old favourite sites, but which we have not visited for a couple of years.
Neufchatel-en-Bray, Camping Sainte Claire, ASCI2011-974
We have sung the praises of this site before:
• It is beautifully kept.
• It is only about a mile off the “free” motorway (A28), which takes you toward Calais/Dunkirk.
• You can make Calais/Dunkirk in only 2 – 3 hours, so it is plausible to stay here before catching the ferry, or as a first stop off the ferry.
• There is a choice of three supermarkets (Le Clerc, Lidl, and Aldi) all within walking distance.
• There is a church in walking/cycling distance.
• There is a cycle track at the gate, running to Dieppe in one direction, if you feel that energetic and Les Forges d’Eau in the other.
• It is only 11Euro (£10) a night.
Phew!, sorry, that is a massive post. But we have had no reliable internet for almost a week.
This site did not have internet, last time we were here, but, now true to form, he has done it well. Only 3Euro for 24 hours, and the speed is superb. The wifi covers only 80% of the site, but if you are out of range, he has provided a little "office", with seats and power points, where you can bring your laptop to.
St Jorioz (Annecy), International du Lac Annecy, (ACSI2011-1462) continued
My comments about the thunder were a bit premature! it developed into torrential rain, we had to go rushing outside to rescue the awning!
Friday begins cool and dull, but it is hair washing and general chores day, so no real harm done.
After washing her hair Kathleen is able to indulge in one of her favourite pass-times, ie counting her money on the internet banking, she particularly likes the "Money in" column on the on-line bank statement.
It is the weekend, so it is decided to “take it easy”, although quite how you can “take it easy”, when you have spent your week doing nothing very much, is a mystery to me.
I spend most of Saturday cycling, while Kathleen sprawls in the sun, topping up her tan, after all, we have had one whole day without sunshine, and her tan may have just faded a little.
In the evening, we cycle the six miles into Annecy, to have a meal.
Even at eight o'clock in the evening, it is still warm and sunny.
It is a holiday weekend here, and the place is very busy.
We find a pleasant restaurant, by the river in old Annecy, and have a very enjoyable meal, and of course a few drinks. We are served by a Frenchman who probably speaks excellent English, but indulges our efforts at ordering in French.
Afterwards, we must cycle “home” again of course, here is Kathleen, drunk in charge of a bicycle, overtaking a roller skater on the way back.
and just to show we were not dawdling along, you can see my cycle computer showing over 10 miles per hour, almost 11 in fact.
Sunday is church day of course, Kathleen goes to the nearby church in St Jorioz.
We spend the rest of the day strolling along the lake shore toward Duingt.
Although we have been here before, and on this trip, have been here several days, we still manage to find a "new" and very pleasant walking route along the lake.
The site is now filling up, there are more new arrivals by the day, almost all Dutch. Not that there is anything wrong with the Dutch, they are mostly very friendly, and have a sense of humour.
I am told the other Europeans, refer to them as the “White Wave”, because in the summer, they hitch up their caravans and sweep south from Holland, in their thousands.
There are so many of them, I am sure they must only be able to return home, by appointment, otherwise the country could not cope with the influx.
Monday, and I knew I would manage to coax Kathleen into cycling around the lake again. You only have to hint that she cannot do it, and of course she will do it to prove you wrong. A true McCaffery.
I did not manage to convince her to do it anti-clockwise, but there is always next time.
Accordingly we peddle off along the lake, towards Annecy, stopping in Old Annecy to buy bread for our picnic.
We have barely broken sweat when we reach the ten mile point.
This is the view from our first rest stop.
Here is Kathleen, looking as fresh as a daisy, having a drink of water, yes, that is right, water, at the ten mile point, by now we are past Annecy and heading along the other side of the lake.
Our Dutch neighbour, a very friendly, but very large woman, was asking, before we left, where we were off too. When we said we were off to cycle around the lake, she explained that she had been a keen cyclist, but after having a knee replacement operation she had gained weight, and her cycling activities had diminished.
Her English is very good, no English person should ever criticise a foreigners grasp of English, since we are almost universally useless at speaking any other language.
But for her, it is a foreign language, and she wanted to say that now, she cycles only from bar to bar, having to stop at each for a drink to refresh herself. But she could not think of the word for "bar", and since, here, bars are often "terraces", instead used the word terrace, this has now become our little joke, we talk of how many "terraces" we are going to cycle.
There is no continuous cycle track on this side, and it is much more up and down.
But not a word of complaint is heard, and we have not even done one "terrace" yet.
About half way round, there is a BIG hill, and I mean BIG.
It starts at Menthon-St-Bernard, and you are peddling up hill for about a mile.
At the top there are people half our age, flopped on the grass verge panting, but here is Kathleen, just about to reach the top, and not a hair out of place.
Having gone up, of course we then go down, into the village of Talloires.
I have to admit, the down is much shorter and therefore steeper, so doing this ride in the opposite direction would be much more of a challenge.
This is the seventeen mile mark, and we stop for our picnic lunch.
Here is the view across the lake, the place you can see on the opposite shore is Duingt, just along the road from our campsite.
This is the view “down” the lake, where our route will take us, to Verthier, then Dousard, at the end of the lake.
At Dousard we join the cycle track to head along "our" side of the lake to “home”.
At twenty miles, we stop off (at a "terrace"), for a couple of Panaches (Shandies), and some chips!, before rejoing the cycle track to finish off the remainder of the 25 miles.
Kathleen decides to check her blood pressure (and mine), as soon as we get back, after so much strenuous exercise, you would expect it to be high, I would have thought. But no, it is 111/57 for Kathleen, and 119/72 for me. When we get home, I think I will ask Dr Thornley-Walker to forget the prescription for blood pressure tablets, and instead give us a prescription for campsite fees!
The rest of the evening is spent undoing the good work by sitting in the sun drinking wine.
I encounter another of our Dutch neighbours at the recycling point, feeding empty wine bottles into the Verre (Glass) container. I explain to her, that the English phrase for this is "hidding the evidence", which she finds hilarious, possibly becuase she was putting at least five bottles into the container!.
The bad news is, the weather forecast is for rain, and sure enough, it begins to rain overnight, we awake to a grey and wet Tuesday.
A day for planning our next move I think.
