Bubbly, Vimy and Blighty!

We are back in the UK – a day earlier than planned, but the weather had turned consistently nasty in northern France, and we saw no point in hanging around the final camp longer than absolutely necessary. There was room on the ferry this morning, so for a small fee we changed our ticket, to be welcomed back into England by strong winds and driving rain!
But we have the story to complete since the last blog and there are tales worth telling.

We drove away from La Gagere campsite on Thursday 26th August, after a lovely week only marred by two or three days of inclement weather. We returned to St Leger as agreed, to collect our 2009 wine, only bottled by Jean-Yves Renaud two days earlier. It was a wonderful reunion, with this lovely couple so pleased to be able to share their wine with the “camping caristes”. We left much heavier than we had arrived!

Onward towards Champagne country and the delightful trio of hamlets that come together as Les Riceys. Just south of Troyes, at the very southern end of the Champagne region, Les Riceys boasts a number of excellent champagne vineyards, as well as being famous for producing a delicious Pinot Noir rosé wine called Rosé-des-Riceys, a particular favourite of Louis XIV apparently, who was introduced to it by the workmen from Riceys when they were employed to build the Palais de Versailles. We arrived a little late to taste the wines, as everyone was closing up, and many of the wine makers were actually away on their own holidays! As was our absent host at our France Passion that evening, but he had given us permission to park in his walled car park opposite his home. As this was in between two champagne producers we felt very much at home! And this was why the following morning at precisely 9.30, I found myself tasting both Brut Champagne and Rosé–des-Ricey in a very stylish tasting room at the vineyard of the Marquis de Pomereuil. The lady receptionist could not believe we wanted to drink wine at that hour! Victor had to pretty much take my word for it as he was driving, but he had no need to fear – the rosé was pure nectar! More bottles into the ever bulging van!

A couple of hours up the road and you reach Epernay, the second capital of the Champagne region, just behind Reims. Epernay boasts a long street called Avenue de Champagne, where all the major champagne houses own large beautiful buildings. We picked on the House of Mercier to visit, mainly because our guide book told us that the company has an enormous barrel in their large reception hall with an incredible history, and we were keen to see it for ourselves (see photo). We were not disappointed. This very barrel, which has a capacity of 215,000 bottles of the bubbly stuff, was taken to the World Exhibition of 1889 in Paris, aboard a cart drawn by 24 oxen and 18 horses. It took twenty days to travel there from Epernay, with bridges being reinforced and walls demolished along the way. The carving on the tun was most impressive. We enjoyed a free tasting of champagne at the Tourist Information Office (they are all at it!), and also got caught in a cloudburst!

That evening we had failed to book a night stop, and what with holidays and loads of other motor homes around the city, it took four phone calls to find a space. A little disconcerting as the weather was once again turning stormy. We found ourselves in a tiny village called Festigny, just west of Epernay at the home of the champagne maker, Guy Fournier. Where most people have gardening equipment and maybe a washing machine in their garage, this man had vats of champagne and hundreds of bottles! We had a usual tasting (as it happens the final one of the holiday), took one bottle back to the van to drink with our salad (!), and the following morning drove away with twelve more bottles!

Onto the final stretch and quite by fate, we had one more highlight to come. As we were driving along the motorway towards St Omer for our final two evenings in France, Victor and I were discussing the war graves in the area and how I had never been to Vimy and the Canadian War Memorial. I checked the map and Vimy Ridge was coming up just off the A26, in about twenty minutes time. We decided to visit. And how glad we were – in bright sunshine we drove through what appeared to be an undulating parkland which we later realised was an area of shell holes and unexploded mines! This beautiful tree-lined avenue led to a gleaming white monument stretching upwards to the sky (see photo). This was the very space where the Canadian troops had eventually beaten the German army for a tiny plot of land, and in the process lost around 11,000 men. Carved around the base of the monument are the names of those young soldiers whose bodies were never found. The artistry and emotion in the statues is indescribable. The cemetery with the rows and rows of white crosses, many simply stating, ‘Unknown Soldier’; and the recreated trenches, were humbling and thought-provoking. We finished the visit by learning more about how the monument has recently been renovated from a fascinating short film shown in the Information Centre.

By now we were later than we’d hoped to arrive in St Omer, but it had been worth it for the detour. Having shopped in the amazing hypermarket for last minute bits, we eventually found our campsite for the night. More rain, cold wind and mud made us reconsider two further nights, and the following morning packed up and headed for Calais. It was a bumpy crossing but we are now nearly home. Three nights of visiting friends and family in the south and we will head back to Norwich on Wednesday. This is our final blog for our French Adventure. It has been an incredible three months providing us with so many memories and lasting images of a fascinating and beautiful country. We have enjoyed sharing it with you and hope you found it entertaining. Thanks for being a ‘follower’.

Revisiting Old Haunts

This past week has been all about the view, the sunsets and the mixed weather at our final naturist camp, near Autun in the east of France. Victor and I stayed at this very campsite some four summers ago, but at that time we rented one of the posh chalets on the hill, so this was to be quite different. We arrived during the afternoon last Wednesday in the pouring rain and a heavy heart – as you can imagine, naturist camps are all about worshipping the sun and when there isn’t any, they can be particularly miserable places! We were offered the remaining one of only four pitches reserved for motor homes (on hard standing), and we were uncertain immediately about its suitability for an eight night stay. It was the furthest from the edge of the hillside with the amazing view we remembered so well, but worse than that, there was very limited flat land around the van to set up our awning and flooring. The young lady who was showing us around the camp (Dutch, what else?), assured us that the huge A Class motor home currently perched on the edge with the amazing view and loads of flat grass, was due to leave on Friday morning, and if we wanted she could reserve that space for us for Friday onwards. As they say, we tore her arm off! It is generally accepted that this pitch has the best view on the campsite (see photo).

We lived for two nights on the less than perfect space, without our flooring and having to set our table up on the grassy slope behind the van so as to catch some of the view. The weather did improve on day two and it was that evening when we experienced our first, and in retrospect, probably best sunset. The valley view is directly west so the setting sun is right in front of us (see photo). Everyone on camp gets their camera out at around 8.30 pm when the sky turns pink before our eyes, and the sun becomes a huge glowing ball. It really was a spectacle, and we looked forward to moving our van on the Friday morning. This was duly achieved with a deal of organisation and forward planning much to the amusement of our Dutch neighbours! That evening we invited three of the few other British visitors (the rest made up of Dutch and a few French), to a British sunset party outside our van, overlooking the valley. They accepted! A lovely couple from Carlisle, and a single man, who had been travelling around Europe since April, turned up with bottles of wine and their lounger chairs at around 8.00 and we waited for the sun to do its stuff. We were not disappointed and more fabulous photos were taken! We enjoyed their company (and a bottle of wine or four), for two or three hours more, before we realised that everyone else had gone to bed and we should break it up!

Saturday was fabulous (despite the hangovers). We took full advantage of our pole position, eating outside, sunbathing, playing table tennis (badly), swimming and generally loving it! Thank goodness we did, for Sunday turned out to be gloomy and windy. It was now that we discovered the downside to changing our position, as the strong westerly blows hard up the valley, directly into the side of our van, threatening to demolish the awning, and at one point actually bending one of the poles we use to hold the curtains on the awning. It took two strong men and me to hold it down while Victor wound it up. That evening we shared wine and nibbles outside the caravan of our new friends, but as we did so we heard the ominous rumbles of thunder in the distance, and sure enough, it chucked it down all night! Heavy rain is extremely noisy on this roof and we did not sleep at all well that night.

Sunday and Monday proved cool and cloudy with intermittent showers, with Sunday night bringing on another storm (and another restless night). There is little to do but sit around in the van during these bad spells, reading, listening to the odd CD, watching a DVD, writing postcards, playing with the computer. At least these spells of bad weather have been infrequent over the past three months, and here we can always gaze out of the window, never failing to be uplifted by the spectacular view of rolling hills, cow pastures, tiny traffic silently driving to and fro on the distant road, thick mysterious fir forests and swirling white clouds in an ever changing sky.

One highlight was yesterday’s lunch when we invited our neighbour to share an amazing Boeuf Bourguignon, inspired by a book we bought in Cluny called simply ‘Recipes from Burgundy’. We bought the beef at the Autun market and the wine was en vrac Bourgogne rouge, and frankly, it was delicious! Cooked up on one electric ring in a motor caravan! Wait until I try it at home....

This morning, we escaped with a welcome lift into Autun for some shopping and a coffee. As I write this it is mid-afternoon, and the sun is desperately trying to break through the cloud base, but the cold wind is putting paid to much naturism! The camp is very quiet; it is definitely end of season stuff, with many families leaving last weekend to return to work or school. The forecast is better for tomorrow, our last full day, so hopefully we will catch some rays. We plan to leave here on Thursday morning, collect our 2009 wine from St Leger, and work our way north through Champagne to the coast, for Monday’s ferry to Dover. It may be that we shall complete this blog from home next week with the final chapter of French Adventure 2010. Fingers crossed for a gentle crossing (and a bit of sun)!

Famous names and fascinating characters

As reported, we left the Macon Laize campsite on the morning of Sunday 15th August and over the next three days visited some of the most famous places in the Burgundy region of France, including Cluny, Volnay, Beaune and Nuits-St-Georges, driving through some of the best-known wine villages on the “Route des Grandes Crus”. The weather has been mixed, with some very heavy rain at times, but mainly dull and cloudy. As such we were pleased that we were not getting bored with the lack of sun at a campsite, instead were tasting wine after wine!

Cluny (see photo) is an historical treasure trove, important within the Christian religion, where once stood the largest abbey in Europe. The abbey was destroyed and rebuilt over the centuries and we visited the only remaining sections from the thirteenth century, the visit enhanced by the use of state of the art technology called ‘augmented reality’, where by moving the screens dotted around the ruins, the pictures revealed how sections of the building would have looked when it was built. The little town itself was delightful and actually open on a Sunday which is unusual, with beautiful traditional shop fronts and cobbled streets. We bought the usual souvenirs – guide book, fridge magnet and printed pencil, special because this year Cluny is celebrating the 1100 anniversary of the first Abbey.

Our night stop was in a small town called Nolay, which meant driving north for about an hour through some villages growing famous wines including Buxy, Givry, Mercurey and Rully. Victor got very excited and was looking forward to tasting Monsieur’s wines at our night stop, Domaine Nicolas. As I have explained before, we choose these places simply from a directory which does not include photographs, and once again, Victor did us proud as once we had driven up the steep hill out of Nolay centre ville, we realised that our parking spot had yet another view to die for, right across the town and the vines beyond. That evening we had booked to eat dinner at a small hotel in Nolay, which meant a half hour walk downhill, but we were inspired by the generous wine tastings of their Aligote 2009, a Saint-Romaine, and a red Santenay. The credit card was flexed once again! The meal that evening was truly memorable, especially as we met a charming Englishman who was travelling alone, and who was a regular at the hotel over many summers, and coincidentally, had bought wine from Domaine Nicolas on a number of occasions and could commend it. John recommended the traditional Bourgogne starter of Eggs en meurette, and despite the eleven euros price tag I could not refuse, and boy, was it worth it! Three eggs poached in a sauce made from the dregs of red wine from the bottom of barrels, mixed with diced bacon and mushrooms. Victor had twelve snails in garlic butter – almost as impressive but not quite! While we were eating and enjoying John’s company, it started to rain heavily. We did not have our macs, but the chef himself (and owner of the family hotel) offered us a lift up the hill in his car so all was well!
The following day was dull and damp, and after a coffee stop at the hotel again (it wasn’t strictly open but Patrice took pity on us and helped us out for a second time!), we set off to rediscover Beaune, a city we have visited four years ago when we had a practice run holiday in France (although we did not know it at the time!). On the way we were forced to call in at another Wine Cave, a large off-licence really, but one selling the wine en vrac, straight from enormous barrels into whatever container you turn up with, and so much cheaper per litre than in the bottles.

Then on up the wine route again, with Victor keen to call into the village of Volnay, whose vines produce a classic red wine we have traditionally enjoyed with our Christmas goose! We randomly picked one of the many vineyards to taste the wine, and it was just an incredible hour or so. The young winemaker, Francois Buffet, showed us down into a typical dark musty cellar where the shelves were crammed with bottles of wine, available to taste and buy. (See photo) But even more fascinating, deep in the recesses were ancient glass bottles, all stuck together with dust, labelled with their bottling dates. We saw bottles from 1915, 1929 and 1947, all good vintage years. Monsieur Buffet explained that the bottles still contain wine, but they cannot be moved as the corks would disintegrate. Instead occasionally wealthy patrons will invite friends or clients to a dinner party in the cellar, where the bottles are opened where they sit and the wine decanted. At several thousand pounds a bottle, we did not make a reservation! We bought some Volnay though! Looks like it’s goose again for Christmas this year!

We eventually made it into the city of Beaune and after going round the one way system two or three times, we found the Motor home car park. It was well into the afternoon by now, and looking around it was clear that other motor home owners were preparing to spend the night right there. As we did not have a night stop booked we decided to join them so that we could spend more time enjoying the city. And so we did, even finding a silent movie festival taking place in one of their lovely old buildings, with a live pianist accompanying the films. After a picnic dinner in our van (Beaune restaurants are very overpriced), we walked back into the centre and had a lot of fun laughing at Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd and a French star we did not know, Max Linder. The night was actually incredible quiet, and to be honest I had one of the best night’s sleep of the holiday – who would have believed it! The following morning we walked the fifteen minutes back in for some shopping and a coffee, with the weather brightening.

We left Beaune on the north road, heading once more on the Route des Grands Crus and finding more famous wine villages in the area known as Cotes de Nuit, the most northern area of Bourgogne wine region. The major village is Nuit-St-George and this was our lunch time treat, as I’d missed out on dinner in Beaune. Nuit is a pretty little place with an imaginative use of water features in the central restaurant area and a number of very classy expensive wine shops. This time we resisted! Over lunch we debated which France Passion night stop to call for that evening and considered a number. Deciding to get ourselves closer to Autun, our destination the following day, we chose a little wine grower in a town called St Leger, which sits on the picturesque Dheune Canal. They were happy to accommodate us, and at about six o’clock we arrived at the little farm and were greeted by a short gentleman in overalls and a flat cap – Jean-Yves Renaud is a medal winning wine grower and could not have been more different than the young man in Volnay. He showed us into his equally dark damp cellar, just next to the barn where he keeps his tractor, and immediately began to pour large glasses of his best wines, plus a sample of his own ‘hooch’ which he admitted was 25% proof and kept just for the motor home visitors! (See photo) It was hilarious and when Madam turned up with a plate cheeses, we knew we had struck gold. Monsieur revealed that he was about to start bottling his 2009 stock next week. Now as we loved his wines, and 2009 is meant to be one of the great years, we are destined to return to his place next Thursday to pick up a few more boxes of the new stuff. Where on earth are we going to put it in the already overloaded van? We returned to the van for supper feeling very tipsy indeed!

So on Wednesday we drove to Autun, did some food shopping and subsequently arrived in pouring rain at our next campsite, La Gagere, a site we visited four years ago and enjoyed immensely. I will save the details of this place for the next blog, but I will say that we are probably finishing the campsites with the best view from the van yet. Photo next time! Take care. Oh, and the rain cleared and we have now had two glorious hot days. Long may it continue!

Tasting the Wine

We had a smooth, if long and tedious, journey from the Creuse region to the Macon area last Monday, taking in a memorable picnic lunch just above Montluçon with a view of the city to die for! We had two nights of France Passion night stops to look forward to, both in vineyards (where else would you stay when in Macon and Bourgogne?). We thought we’d lost the first place in Sologny, just off the main road, but then on completing yet another twisty steep turn, we spotted a beautiful pink chateau on the hill and I mused that this might be it! We were directed up to the house, but then instead of through the iron gates, we drove into the ancient farmyard behind it. The vigneron only ran the vineyards on behalf of the Chateau owner, and did not actually live there. A disappointment, but made up for by the fascinating cellar she led us to in order to taste three of her wines. This led to a sale, of course, and Victor started to fill up the van with bottles of Macon Village Blanc 2005 and a ‘bag in box’ of the red Passetoutgrains 2008. As Madam put it, a most ‘bizarre’ name for a wine! We strolled up to the vines above the farm, and took in the spectacular view across the valley, including the main N79 Viaduct, an incredible piece of engineering that takes both road traffic and trains (TGV), many of them heading for Paris. A lovely herd of white Charollais cows wandered across the nearby fields in the setting evening sun, completing the picture.

The following morning we set out on our task to discover the best wines of Macon, starting in the picturesque village of Prissé, where we found the Groupement de producteurs de Prissé-Sologny-Verzé, the local association of wine growers. The very smart showroom was a joy and Victor enjoyed himself choosing a wine to buy (see photo). It was lunchtime by now, and I was keen to find a scenic spot for our picnic. We decided to investigate a near-by limestone escarpment, valued by the area as a prehistoric wonder called Roche de Solutré. The drive up was a little hairy, but we made it to the panorama area, and sure enough we were directly beneath the gigantic rock, faced with another view across the valley, vineyards and villages. The sun was warm and the mackerel salad was delicious. Ironically as we were driving all day, we drank soft drinks despite being surrounded by hectares and hectares of grapes!

The rest of the afternoon was spent driving through the tiny hillside villages, getting into one or two tight spots (have you ever tried reversing a 3.5 ton motor home at a dead end on a one in three incline? Victor has!) We enjoyed tasting the Pouilly-Fuissé 2007 white wine in a fascinating little wine store in Fuissé (see photo) and bought another six bottles to bring home. We completed the day by taking a peek at the town of Beaujeu, the capital of the Beaujolais area, and Villié-Morgon. Everywhere we drove the views were astounding.

Our night stop was meant to be a particular vineyard in the tiny wine town of Fleurie, but despite ringing the bell at the forbidding chateau, there appeared to be no-one around. There was another France Passion place on the ‘view’ side of the road, so we went there instead, even though we had not reserved a place. There was no problem as no other motor home was expected, and a young girl of about twelve - Steph, told us to park up against the hedge leading to her father’s vines. This gave us an incredible view across another valley of vineyards and villages to the mountainous horizon beyond, which turned out to be the Alps. It was only a couple of hours drive to Geneva from this part of France, and apparently on a clear day they can see Mont Blanc! The girl’s parents did not seem to be home, but she offered to give us a ‘degustation’ of their wines and duly showed us into their showroom and poured us the, by now familiar, glasses (see photo). Imagine the authorities allowing that in England! We bought a ‘bag in box’ of her rosé, and walked into the village for a meal at a restaurant in the square by the church. On the way we checked out the big co-operative wine showroom, had a “quick” taster before they closed and promised to return in the morning to buy some of their Fleurie vintages.

The meal was very French with Victor having a charollais steak – I was a little disturbed by that after seeing the beautiful herd of them the night before – and I stuck my neck out and had fried grenouilles or frogs legs to most of us! Frankly, although the flavour was very good, there were so many tiny, tiny bones so it made the meal quite a marathon! Back to chez Steph, to sip a liqueur sitting outside, gazing at the twinkly lights below that led to Switzerland!

And so to Wednesday when we went back to our restaurant for a coffee, and bought some meats and other groceries before driving on to the city of Macon for lunch. We did not know the city, so parked at the station and walked in. We had a good lunch in a leafy square and were impressed by the Cathedral and the Mairie (City Hall). It was not until we bought some postcards that we realised the River Sôane runs through it. Having asked directions, we turned two corners, and there it was, a most beautiful wide impressive river with a medieval arched stone bridge crossing to the far side. It had swans and boats and bridges and flower borders along its banks and was a photographers dream! There were some stone armchairs dotted about strategically which were amusing and practical. Norwich Council take note! Our next campsite, a small club site, was only thirty minutes out of town and around 5pm we rolled up to be greeted by one of the members and shown to a pretty pitch in the middle of their very own arboretum – the area is full of different trees and there is a clear warm covered pool that we are taking advantage of every evening.

Tomorrow we leave here for three nights in the beautiful Beaune area. More wine tasting, more shopping, three more France Passion night stops. Stay tuned for a report from our next campsite, following our arrival there next Wednesday. Cheers!

Family Fun in the Sun!

It is our final evening at Creuse Nature. As reported in our last blog eight days ago, we arrived in threatening weather and it continued changeable. However, when it was good, it was very, very good, and our excellent pitch, giving us a direct view of a beautiful little fishing lake, has been a constant source of joy. The whole of our stay here has been set against the delightful background of Dutch families enjoying their summer holidays with their children of all ages. As a child and as a parent, I never embraced the camping style of holiday, and now, watching how much fun they are all having together, I feel a certain regret. There are continual activities laid on and the children have a freedom that I suspect is denied them at home. It has been a pleasure to spend time with them.

Day One: We arrive at 2pm tired and anxious to set up before the rain sets in. Reception is closed until three. Luckily they offer us a free welcome drink in the bar. When we do finally drive onto the assigned pitch, we are suddenly surrounded by four or five Dutch campers, all anxious to give advice (conflicting of course!) and help with the electric cable, the stabiliser chocks etc! We keep our cool (well, I did!) as best we can. That evening we join the communal Mexican buffet meal on the pool terrace and once again find ourselves the only Brits in the Zeiderzee!

Day Two: Heavy rain overnight. Cool damp morning. I join some Dutch teenage girls in a water aerobics class in the small indoor pool, run by a French lady. Really enjoy it, but then discover she is leaving camp that day to go home. That had been the final class of the summer! Gutted! Met a lone Aussie travelling around Europe in his camper. Shared a beer. Sun came out. Relaxed by lake. Discovered campsite shop in a garage by the owner’s house and bought some lovely locally made blueberry jam.

Day Three: Another wet morning. Spent much time cleaning out inside of van. Always chores to do! Weather improved. Went for walk and watched the Boules tournament. Then quite by chance we came across a real gem – a mid 1960s Camion Citroennette – one of the early motorhomes – in mint condition. We spoke with the elderly owners who said they have had the van since new and still drive it from Holland to France each summer. Had our first splash in the pool. Black pudding and patés for dinner. Watched ‘District Nine’ on the DVD. Amazing and most disturbing movie. I recommend it!

Day Four: More rain in the morning. Idly checking the internet (free wi-fi into the van at this place – what a joy!), I found that the Open University site had published the results of this year’s Creative Writing Course. My final exam piece, a thirty minute play, was given 76%. I was so pleased as I knew I needed 70% at least to finish with a Grade 2 pass (equivalent of a 2:1) and this had been my goal. We opened a bottle of champagne later – doesn’t everyone have champagne stowed away in their camper? Two friends from England arrived to enjoy some time with us. Disappointingly the weather did not improve but we drank the wine and talked, and talked, and talked.

Day Five: Friends drove us in their hire car to the local town of Boussac, where it was market day. It was a ‘getting better’ type of day and the market was excellent. We enjoyed a coffee while we watched the little town go by and came back with loads of goodies! Afternoon warm and dry so we took advantage of the sun and read our books. Another communal meal tonight – Indonesian style and we found two more Brits who had just arrived to share the evening with.

Day Six: Lovely hot day, and we did very little apart from setting up two tables right by the lake for an extended shared coffee break/lunch/afternoon tea session with the new Brits – two retired academics who live in Stratford Upon Avon and who had been touring France since May. Tonight was terrific as the campsite organised a karaoke evening. After a few drinks we went over to the bar to join in and ended up having such fun. All the songs were British and American classic hits from Jailhouse Rock to ‘Everybody Cries’. My ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ Diana Ross impression, will be remembered for some time, and Victor’s ‘Great Balls of Fire’ met with great acclaim, or certainly created a lasting impression!

Day Seven: Another day devoted to sun, food and drink. Enough said! The evening finds the families gather at the lakeside for a campfire, so our evening entertainment is the sound of folksongs and Dutch versions of standards such as ‘She’ll be coming round the mountain’ and ‘Heads, shoulders, knees and toes’!

Day Eight: Friends go home early in the morning. Another packing up day as we leave tomorrow. Packing up day is always very sad. We now plan two days in the Macon Valley (about four hours away), tasting the wines (again!) and then have four nights in another campsite before more exploring. I am unsure when we will have wi-fi but will be back in touch as soon as possible. Happy August!

Mixing with the locals in beautiful Dordogne

Eight days since our last blog, so apologies to our regular followers, but the last campsite did not have access to the internet, “no wee-fee”, as they put it! It is a relief to discover that our latest place – Creuse Nature, has free wee-fee which is accessible at the van! Again, we have so much to report. We were not too sorry to leave Les Grandes Chenes on 26th July. The weather had not been good and the bugs from the forest were biting big time. Over the following forty-eight hours we had two amazing night stops, and discovered some of the most beautiful little towns that the Dordogne has to offer. All this and Victor made friends with a Harris hawk....

Monday 26th July found us having an unexpectedly superb lunch in a little town called Gourdon, followed by a drive around the spectacular scenery of the Dordogne, taking in the hillside bastide town of Domme, with its distant views over the Dordogne river; and discovering the stunning beauty of La Roque-Gageac, a small town literally cut from the rock at the edge of the river. The tourist boats looked great fun, but we had an appointment with a farmer’s market that evening at our France Passion nightstop, so we had to be content with just taking photos.

The little farm was at Veyrines de Domme, where every Monday evening they host a party. Local producers of l’escargot, beef, duck, wine and pastries all gather to sell their wares to the visitors, who sit at the long trestle tables under the shade of a vine, enjoying the food and the ambience as the sun goes down. And how! We watched amused, as the French families enjoyed their evening out in the countryside with the children behaving like kids do the world over, squabbling and fighting, laughing and chasing, with the girls organising a game similar to our “What’s the time, Mr Wolf?”. The sunset was quite stunning with the clouds melting into candy-floss above us.

The following day we left the van parked at the farm, and walked for twenty minutes, down an idyllic country lane, through apple orchards with chickens pecking the ground beneath the trees, to reach Chateau Milandes, once owned by the famous singer and entertainer, Josephine Baker, who once described it as her ‘Sleeping-Beauty Castle’. Here we marvelled at a Birds of Prey display, where Victor, always the first to pick up the gauntlet, was actually given one and a Harris Hawk landed on his arm. The group of birds included a beautiful Snowy Owl, an enormous American Fish Eagle and a delicately featured falcon. The Chateau itself dated from the 1400s, and had clearly been renovated many times, but it was full of charm with the rooms still as Josephine Baker had designed them, including a 1950s bathroom with a ceiling painted in gold leaf, and a suite that reminded me of my grandmother’s house when I was a little girl. We had a lovely hot sunny visit to the Chateau and probably spent far too much in the well-stocked gift shop!

We picked up the van from the farm after treating ourselves to lunch at the Chateau cafe, and drove on towards the town of Souillac, again on the Dordogne, for a refill of wine en vrac (5 litre plastic containers filled up at the wine Caves). At £.100 a litre, this is clearly a much more economical way of buying wine, especially considering the quantities we are getting through! We were also both badly in need of haircuts, so after a couple of rejections, we found a fascinating little salon called “Harmonie Coiffure”, run by a husband and wife team, who not only had an appointment free at 5pm, but also sold jewellery and little bags. Victor bought me a glitzy silver evening bag thing which was an unexpected bonus. It is always nerve-wracking having your hair cut by a new stylist, especially in a foreign country when neither of you can speak the other’s language, but it was absolutely fine, and we were very happy with the results. My head, especially, felt much cooler after my chop!

Our night stop was to be another farm, this time with dairy cows. When we choose these places to stay it is simply because of their entry in the France Passion Directory. It does not tell you much, just the address, the number of pitches, whether they are a farm, a vineyard, an Auberge or whatever. They do not give you an idea of the setting or the people running it. Once again we had struck gold with Ferme de Cantegrel in the farming hamlet of Archignac. The farm was right on top of a hill and we set up our evening picnic table overlooking a breathtaking rural view, with the dairy herd grazing contentedly directly opposite, following their afternoon milking. There were four other motor homes there at night, not surprising when we discovered how very accommodating this particular farmer is with his facilities and goodies for sale in his farm shop.

It was time for a three night stay at another campsite and this one took us further into France, near the ancient city of Uzerche. Again, it was Dutch run and called Le Moulin de Gany, after the windmill that once stood on the site near the tiny hamlet of Gany. It was a challenge getting the van into the very hillside camp, but we had a good convenient pitch and enjoyed some relaxing sun, and a most enjoyable communal meal with forty Dutch people. Once again we were the only non-Dutch on the whole site which made us something of celebrities. We probably needed more than three days to fully appreciate the excellent facilities they offered, but time was pressing and on Saturday morning, 31st July, we set off once again in search of adventure.

First stop was Uzerche. We knew nothing about the town, but it turned out to be a fascinating place with the old town perched high above two Roman viaducts with a lovely meandering Vézère river surrounding the town. We trekked up the hill and through the ancient stone gate up to the church and the view of the city below, before enjoying a quick coffee. We were going to drive on, but the Yogi Bear tables by the river looked so welcoming in the sun that we drove down to the parking place for campers, and ate some pate, tomatoes and cucumber salad on the riverbank, while gazing up at the variety of buildings on the other side.

We set off again towards our next France Passion night stop, only one night this time before our next campsite. On the way I fancied the look of Mount Gargan, an apparent beauty spot en route, with the sign on the map indicating good views. This would have been great, but for the fact that the acute left turn to get onto the road leading up the mountain, meant the van’s tow bar (which we never use) had a fight with the tarmac, and for one moment we could not move forwards, and we could not move backwards! As you might imagine, my head began to go into panic mode, but Victor, as ever, kept his cool, changed the angle of the wheel and reversed out of danger. The road came off worse, but we abandoned that plan, turned back and carried on to Saint Bonnet Briance, a tiny spot, not at all far from Lous Suais, the earlier campsite on the lake.

Here was yet another farm, this one ‘with rooms’, and a large patio table set for twelve outside in the evening sun. There were two more couples staying the night, both with young boys. We had booked for an evening meal but did not realise we would be eating ‘en famille’. Although a little daunting at first, as none of them could, or wanted to, speak any English, Victor warmed to his task and engaged them in conversation. His French is coming on famously! Even I joined in a little after a couple of glasses of wine, and it was a lovely simple French meal in a very pretty setting. They had a lovely shaggy dog too who took rather a liking to Victor!

And so finally to Sunday, when we drove to our new campsite of Creuse Nature, near Montluçon in the Creuse area of Limousin. All the way, it could not have been more different than the previous day’s sunny bright drive through idyllic hamlets. This time was busy dual carriageways through blackening skies, increasing winds and the sound of thunder in the south. We were heading for another campsite, in less than perfect conditions, and this time for eight nights. What would this one hold in store?