Today we head for Portugal. The weather in Spain has not been that great but it was not completely unexpected in the North for this time of year. The weather outlook for Portugal looks much brighter so we head for Viana do Castelo.
This is quite a long drive, not on motorways, and we pass through the last of the Spanish Wine country where they grow their grape vines along the top of tressles much the same as we grow kiwifruit, through Cobedelo, Pontevedra, Paredes and Cesantes. We are amazed to find we are still on the Santiago Pilgrim trail whilst being so close to the Portugese border. We have no wind and no rain. To be honest there is nothing pretty to see up here just scruffy towns and equally scruffy vineyards and we wonder whether the recession has hit Spain harder than we were aware and then suddenly we see a "Lidls" - really exciting because it is something we have not seen in what seems like ages - and we decide to stock up on their cheap fresh food and wine before crossing the border into Portugal. Much easier said than done as explained below:
1. Negotiate entrance - directly off very busy roundabout. 2. Take ticket at barrier arm (slightly difficult because the ticket dispenser is designed for cars not Mollys and Gary is almost throwing himself out the window to grab the elusive piece of paper) 3. Drive and find a park in a tiny, already full carpark. (only ones left are for Nursing mothers so Gary parks, stays in the van and tells me to go in and be quick. ( "Shop like Rachael" he says)(Damn you Rach I will never live your shopping skills down) 4. Shop (no problem, really quick) 5. Queue and stack (all good, except the man behind me wants my basket??? Blow, I wanted that because now i will have to pay for bags!!!) 6. Act dumb because the cashier is asking me for something and I don't have a clue (getting hotter in here?) Man behind me waves his car park ticket in my face and suddenly the penny drops - but my ticket is still in Molly with Gary and there is now a queue of at least 20 impatient Spanish shoppers behind me. (definitely getting hotter in here?) Then the knightess in shining armour comes from the back of the queue, speaks to the cashier in Spanish, tells me "all is OK now" in English and calmly resumes her place in the queue. 7. Pack, pay and run - in that order but not before you are given another ticket which will operate the barrier arm to allow you to exit (hopefully - because as we came through the "in barrier" a very irate driver was swearing, cursing and thumping the life out of the "out barrier" machine because his little ticket would not lift the arm. 8. Profusely thank everyone, in Spanish of course, for their help. 9. Return to Molly where I am welcomed with "you have been three quarters of an hour????!!!!" from you know who. Mouth open, sweat pouring down my face (because it really was hot in there) I drag my expensive plastic bags full of cheap groceries into Molly, sit down and explain. Maybe the 4 Euro bottle of gin redeems me? (yeah it did! And the paper ticket got wet and almost didn't work the barrier which was on an uphill slope. So riding the clutch while leaning out the Window to scan the wet barcode was precarious to say the least. Didn't fancy rolling back onto the car behind.)
Moving on again we skirt St Antonio and Tui, where the rain rejoins us, and cross the border into Portugal.
Almost immediately we see the Romanian girls on the side of the road prostituting themselves - we had not expected this in Portugal - and pass a huge gypsy/Romanian encampment made of blue tarpaulins and boxes and boasting mountains of rubbish. Not a very good "hello" for our first visit to this country.
A few viaducts and tunnels later accompanied by more wind, sun and rain (noticed here that the viaduct wind socks are ripped to shreds) we arrive at our campsite in Viana do Castelo in brilliant sunshine. Long may it last.
2 hours later who should roll in but Alex and Dave - totally unbeknown to each other that we were heading for the same campsite. It was such a surprise and so lovely to see them again. As you can no doubt understand this had to be celebrated way into the night with copious amounts of red wine and great conversation.
Next day - maybe with a little red wine headache - we walked the "10 mins to the bridge" which is the entranceway to the lovely old town of Viana. Yeh right - more like 45mins and then the bridge is a km long on top of that!!!!!!! It was, eventually, well worth it though as it was a definitely cute place with a Funicular to the Basilica de Santa Lucia (nice name) on top of the hill overlooking the town which keeps everyone under close supervision down below. Whilst in the Basilica we witnessed groups of people walking around the alter in circles, going round and round over and over again - quite bizarre really.
Next day we wave goodbye again to Alex and Dave - no farewells as we are pretty sure our paths will cross somewhere - and spend a relaxing day in the sun, going to the beach in the evening to watch the sun go down. Unfortunately it was quite hazy so not much of a sunset but the idea was good as was the walk. The weather has definitely improved.
Next stop Porto - well a little outside of Porto actually in Perafita. Once again we passed through many villages and the jury is out on Portugal at this point. Everywhere looks quite dishevelled and dilapidated. We are passing through an obvious agricultural area, perhaps market gardeners, with plastic greenhouses in abundance. There are wheelbarrows on the side of the road full of onions, fresh fruit and vegetable road stalls and we pass the cutest elderly couple dressed in portugese peasant clothes. They are very short, he has a stick and she is carrying great swathes of green foliage on her head and they are helping each other along the road. They must have been in their 90's and had probably been doing the same routine for years but with far less traffic around them.
In Amarin, a big city, we saw pigs on spits being cooked and in Amero birds in cages were lined along the roadside. I could have put out my hand and touched them and boy were they squawking!!! It was by now getting very, very hot.
Following Kate (the GPS) we turned right - directly onto cobble stones and we would be with these all the way to our final destination about 10kms away - shaking Molly to pieces. Winding through narrow, narrow villages, turning right turning left, up hill down hill finally arriving at the campsite which was very nice but smelled of cow shit and needed the grass cut. Walking to the sanitary block through long wet grass was not pleasant and the overpowering smell of silage made me feel nauseous in the end.
Apart from that we enjoyed Perafita - a small Portugese fishing village with a beautiful sandy beach once again on the Atlantic Ocean. We strolled along the beach, explored the market - fish of course and fruit and vegetables - and even managed to buy some fresh coriander here!!!! The boats, literally just pulled up onto the sand, were made of wood and all painted vibrant colours. In little shacks behind the boats net making and mending was in progress and small fish restaurants were dotted in amongst all this. If you looked at the bigger picture it could possibly be deemed quite basic and tatty but to be honest, for us it was like we were immersed in a colourful picture book.
We stopped to have a lovely fish meal in one of the local restaurants - expensive given the fish was caught locally and it literally was a very small cobblestoned village - but the experience of ordering something from a menu in a language you don't understand from a person you don't understand and getting something you actually enjoy is priceless. The very normal looking fish was halved, squashed in a rack and BBQ'd over hot coals and served with salad and potatoes - the potatoes transporting me back decades to school dinners. Yummy.
Replete we staggered to the beach, lay down and, for hours, watched the waves crashing into the shore whilst we updated our sun tan.
Next day we took the bus from right outside the campsite to Porto. 1.60 euro each for a 1hour 10 min journey from hell!!!!! The driver was young, had a fixation for his nose and just loved jamming his foot on those brakes. We had no expectations for Porto, it seemed like just another big city when we passed it on our way to the campsite but the bus eventually took us straight to the heart of the Old Town and.............We loved Porto.
It was higgeldy piggeldy, irrational, full of contrasting colours, textures and building materials. In one pic we see a rock face with colourful, three story, plaster covered houses teetering on its edge half way up its face.(seriously if you took the end house away I am sure they would all fall over). Sprouting up a little further to the right is the meccano type root of the main iron road and rail bridge which spans the river taking tourists to sample their famous Port in the Caves below ground on the other side. From the bottom, concrete steps, enhanced by colourful graffiti, track slightly off vertical to the top and behind all this?........the most brilliant blue sky. Around us a cacophany of noise - traffic, laughter, languages, police whistles, sirens, seagulls, happiness and sunshine.
As we wandered around we stopped to eat and drink small amounts of food, tapas style, at different cafes/retaurants - each place had a different atmosphere, menu, view, busker and we spent a whole day enthralled by and immersed in this part of the huge city of Porto. It is the second largest city in Portugal - Lisbon is the largest. Normally we would use a hopon hopoff bus in such a large city but we both were so glad we opted to stroll, soak up the atmosphere, immerse ourselves in the culture and thoroughly enjoy our day. A quick, Australian-theme-park bus ride back to Perfita, the smell of cow shit and the wet long grass and we decided to head for Aveiro the following morning which was just as well because a very loud gaggle of Portugese men came and parked right beside us????? Yep...here we go again......is it Molly or is it us? So many other empty places.....why oh why park your caravan right there!!!!?????
So here we are in Costa Nova at another Orbitur campsite (Parque de Campismo da Vagueira) and just outside of Aveiro. We can cycle to the local beach - 4km - cycle to the village of Costa Nova proper - 7km - drive to Aveiro - 15kms.
Yesterday we took the local beach - quite nice with lots of sand dunes and soft golden sand and a fish market and today has been a catch up day for those things domestic and personal. Tomorrow we will cycle to Costa Nova proper - 7kms away - and then pick up some fresh fish, from the beach fish market on the way home (I have become quite a fish addict on this trip). We will drink cheap, but good, white wine and stuff ourselves full of moist, tasty white fish cooked whole, wrapped in foil, with slices of fresh lime and a few sprigs of coriander. Yummy.
In the ideal world this is what we will do - tomorrow is another day though so we will see.
So tomorrow has come and gone and yes we did cycle to Costa Nova and it was very pleasant and not too strenuous. Very picturesque along the inlet - in fact quite serene - watching paddleboarders being taught how to survive a few duckings and stand on their boards, colourful boats lazily gliding through the glass like water and the coldest of ciders in a beachfront cafe. Yes it was very hot and also very busy - it was Sunday.
The architecture here is very different - white buildings with coloured vertical stripes in bold colours - mainly bright red and cape cod blue - give this place an authentic seaside atmosphere along with the beautiful sandy, clean beaches decked out with sun umbrellas. We enjoyed our time here and decided we would find a local restaurant for our fish meal rather than buying to take home and cook. The fish markets are great but one thing we have learned - there is a price for us and a price for locals in this area of Portugal.
Eventually finding a small, genuine, Portugese restaurant absolutely heaving with locals we squeezed ourselves onto a vacant table between gabbling Portugese speaking people, smiling right and left as we did so. We sat and we waited - didn't matter we waited soooo long for the table to be cleared and reset - we were totally immersed in our surroundings. What they were all eating - very different from what we have seen up to here and mainly fish stews, soups, grilled baby octupus and baby squid. How they interacted - very Italian and homely. One guy beside us started bashing his huge crab claw with his knife handle on the edge of the table - smiling at us while he did this - as if to say "this is really Portugese style"!!!! So I stayed on course for grilled sea bass and Gary opted for a good old steak. We got to talking with another couple on the other side of us wanting to clarify a few things and they spoke a little English. What happens in Portugal when you sit down at a restaurant - bread, pate, olives and butter are put on the table. They are not free, as they are in Spain, but quite expensive and we wished to clarify this was so before we hoed into them. To be honest ours looked as though they had already been on other tables before we were honoured with them but hey.........the meal was awesome and the company great. Turns out our chatting buddies were weekend campervanners parked 100 metres down the road and we all had a good laugh whilst the single waitress in sweatpants and t-shirt ran around the tables like a chook with her head cut off, ranting and raving in Portugese!!!!!
Cycling back to Molly Gary got hiccups and I fell off my bike - could it have been the cheap wine we consumed with our lunch???
Next stop the beach close to the campsite where, at a camperstop, a kind Portugese guy was going to take Gary into Aveiro to get an adaptor for our gas bottles and we had decided it wasn't necessary. We had been to this beach on Friday and it was deserted - today it was anything but. It was like Brighton seafront including the stalls, sooooo many people and cars and even a traffic jam!!!!! Finding Manuel - he was holding court at someone elses caravan - a quick explanation and we were on our way back to Molly.
Unbeknown to us daylight saving had clicked in on Saturday night so it was a very, very long hot day.
Today we are still in the campsite at Costa Nova having a relaxing day, trying to find an apartment to rent in Portugal for a month and resting my knee which has an effusion now after my fall from my bike. My knee has been a constant aggravation since surgery and i really did not need for this to happen.
Tomorrow we travel to Salamanca back in Spain.
Monday, 27 October 2014
Friday, 24 October 2014
Spain - 2nd Edition
Oh.......really hot, hot water and Dave and Alex! Yep both the best things about this campsite. Oh....and the dog makes three, sorry Layla.
We stayed here a few nights in camping Gaivota as, although there was no more to do than turn right or left as you hit the beach, it was a family run campsite and they made you feel welcome and wanted. It was very clean and well looked after and the shower water was hot, hot, hot. Such a small thing to make such a big deal about but luke warm showers on a rainy day even in Spain is not enthralling.
Our first day there we hit the beach. The atlantic Ocean crashes onto these rocky shores at a fierce pace of knots and there is always a sea salt mist hanging over the sand giving the beach a haunted appearance. We turned right and headed for Cathedral Cove. It was very windy and a little cold but we were captivated by the rock formations along this beach (photos on facebook). Towering layers of Schist and marble undercut by the sea stood proudly to attention as we meandered along. Within the Schist layers orange and white layers co existed making the rocks look like enormous sandwiches. The tide was outgoing so we explored Cathedral Cove then headed back for the lunchtime special at a beach cafe overlooking this incredible vista.
The next day we went to the beach and turned left. A rather large township was on the horizon so we opted to walk along the beach to it mainly to find some bread to buy and maybe a supermarket. Having walked a good few kilometres and with the township in our sights - just have to go over there and up those steps - we were pulled up short by an inlet cutting between the 2 beaches which was totally impassable. Turning back we headed for home, deciding to drown our sorrows at a wine bar we had noticed on our way to "town impossible to get to" ........ And that is where we met Alex and Dave and a dog makes three!!!!!!
We have met some amazing people on this journey and Alex and Dave are up there with the best. We sat there drinking wine and beer for several hours, on what turned out to be a very warm, sunny day, giving the waiter at least something to do whilst he was open (very quiet on this coast at this time of year). Every now and then he, the waiter, would come out with a big grin on his face and produce different plates of tapas for us - all put together by himself. He was so proud and we were so grateful. Once again it is these special moments that make the memories. The conversation was good, the tapas was free and the drinks so, so cheap. That evening we joined each other in the camp restaurant - only ones here as well - for a lovely meal and more conversation. Oh yes......and more wine!! We were able to give them some tips for their upcoming trip to NZ and they for our upcoming trip through the Algarve. Sweet.
Saying our goodbyes the following morning we headed into our 4 hour drive to Muros in Galicia, Northern Spain. This was not a pleasant journey through the mountains with high winds, strong wind gusts, torrential rain, long high viaducts like I have never seen before, low cloud and fog. It was a crazy journey which, unbeknown to us, was about to become even crazier.
Bypassing A Coruna and having just left a motorway, we are faced with this enormously long, slow, uphill climb. Apologising to Molly we start our ascent and "BANG" judder, judder Molly throws herself into a fullblown spasm. "What's happened?" says I. "Puncture" says Gary. Well these Spanish roads go on for miles with no pull over areas but it just so happened that there was a very small turn off to a very small village to our right that Gary was able to coax Molly in to. The fact we were blocking the road selfishly did not concern us. Jumping out........our tyre was shredded!!!!!!
Flouro vests on, triangles out front and back, jack, tyre lever, umbrella (yes it was still pouring) etc etc and Gary set to the job in hand. An hour later and realising there is no way on this earth he was ever going to dislodge the spare tyre after it being in situ for all of Molly's 20 years he swallowed his pride and I dialled 112 for assistance. Now this may sound dramatic but think about it rationally. We are stuck half way up a massive hill, partially blocking a turnoff for residents to reach their village, it is pouring with rain, we have no local sim card, speak very little of the language and we have a puncture!!!!
As it happens it was a great decision. The police got an interpreter on the phone in a 3 way conversation and sent out 2 policemen who couldn't release the spare either. They contacted our breakdown insurance company who sent out a breakdown truck with a mechanic on board. A few hours later we were on the road again but sadly the mechanic took a hammer and chisel to the spare tyre holder and also had to cut the wire holding the spare tyre in place. A few kilometres further on we came to a small town which seemed to specialise in tyres (few and far between on this journey) and now Molly is the proud owner of two new back tyres. Upside of the story - could have been much worse and downside - we currently have to carry the spare inside Molly when we travel. The wonderous thing about all of this is the outcome being achieved with no one, except the interpreter, speaking English and us not speaking Spanish.
It is now getting very dark and very late but we finally roll into the cute little seaside village of Muros and the rain has stopped. Our campsite is supposed to be just outside of this village but it is much further than that and the campsite is awful. It is closing in 3 days time and the owners have virtually abandoned it although they hot foot it to take our registration. The rain starts again in ernest during the night and will continue all through the following day and night as well. We are totally Molly bound and we do not even get to see the sea as the morning we are due to leave we have, once again, very high winds. As we head out of the campsite we stop to pay and the office is closed. We ring the bell, wander the campsite looking for them - maybe they are cleaning the sanitary block which has not been cleaned since we arrived - go to their accommodation but no-one is to be found - they truly have abandoned us. We fix a note of explanation against the door with our UK cell number on it and leave. The wind is getting stronger and we are keen to get on our way - we have wasted half an hour trying to find them. We feel guilty but we go. To this day we have not heard from them and wonder if we ever will.
Relieved to leave this awful place behind we are going to try a camperstop with electricity for just one night but once again we have to travel through mountains, which obviously involves more viaducts to get there along the Xunta-de-Galicia, stopping at a rural supermarket to stock up "Spanish style" where the fresh meat was hacked off a block and very cheap. Our supplies were getting dangerously low but alas still no hummus and when we came out?.........yep it was raining again. Stopping for a "menu of the day" lunch, which is cheap, involves many courses and stops us from eating in the evening, I decide it is time to harden up and try the local fish!!!!!! Putting aside its presentation, tail in mouth, it was actually very delicious and it has set me on a "fish course" much to Gary's delight.
Finally arriving at our Camperstop we discover it no longer exists and we decide to freedom camp in a Sports centre car park in Sanxenxo, watching the wind and kite surfers, for the night - something we said we would never do in Spain - and as we were joined by another camper at about midnight we spend a peaceful night feeling very safe and cosy. The wind and rain subside overnight, it is dark until at least 9am (no daylight saving in Spain) so we enjoy a well deserved lie in.
Tomorrow we head South for Portugal where we hope the weather will be better.
Such are the joys of travel - wouldn't be right without an adventure or two thrown in!!!!!!
We stayed here a few nights in camping Gaivota as, although there was no more to do than turn right or left as you hit the beach, it was a family run campsite and they made you feel welcome and wanted. It was very clean and well looked after and the shower water was hot, hot, hot. Such a small thing to make such a big deal about but luke warm showers on a rainy day even in Spain is not enthralling.
Our first day there we hit the beach. The atlantic Ocean crashes onto these rocky shores at a fierce pace of knots and there is always a sea salt mist hanging over the sand giving the beach a haunted appearance. We turned right and headed for Cathedral Cove. It was very windy and a little cold but we were captivated by the rock formations along this beach (photos on facebook). Towering layers of Schist and marble undercut by the sea stood proudly to attention as we meandered along. Within the Schist layers orange and white layers co existed making the rocks look like enormous sandwiches. The tide was outgoing so we explored Cathedral Cove then headed back for the lunchtime special at a beach cafe overlooking this incredible vista.
The next day we went to the beach and turned left. A rather large township was on the horizon so we opted to walk along the beach to it mainly to find some bread to buy and maybe a supermarket. Having walked a good few kilometres and with the township in our sights - just have to go over there and up those steps - we were pulled up short by an inlet cutting between the 2 beaches which was totally impassable. Turning back we headed for home, deciding to drown our sorrows at a wine bar we had noticed on our way to "town impossible to get to" ........ And that is where we met Alex and Dave and a dog makes three!!!!!!
We have met some amazing people on this journey and Alex and Dave are up there with the best. We sat there drinking wine and beer for several hours, on what turned out to be a very warm, sunny day, giving the waiter at least something to do whilst he was open (very quiet on this coast at this time of year). Every now and then he, the waiter, would come out with a big grin on his face and produce different plates of tapas for us - all put together by himself. He was so proud and we were so grateful. Once again it is these special moments that make the memories. The conversation was good, the tapas was free and the drinks so, so cheap. That evening we joined each other in the camp restaurant - only ones here as well - for a lovely meal and more conversation. Oh yes......and more wine!! We were able to give them some tips for their upcoming trip to NZ and they for our upcoming trip through the Algarve. Sweet.
Saying our goodbyes the following morning we headed into our 4 hour drive to Muros in Galicia, Northern Spain. This was not a pleasant journey through the mountains with high winds, strong wind gusts, torrential rain, long high viaducts like I have never seen before, low cloud and fog. It was a crazy journey which, unbeknown to us, was about to become even crazier.
Bypassing A Coruna and having just left a motorway, we are faced with this enormously long, slow, uphill climb. Apologising to Molly we start our ascent and "BANG" judder, judder Molly throws herself into a fullblown spasm. "What's happened?" says I. "Puncture" says Gary. Well these Spanish roads go on for miles with no pull over areas but it just so happened that there was a very small turn off to a very small village to our right that Gary was able to coax Molly in to. The fact we were blocking the road selfishly did not concern us. Jumping out........our tyre was shredded!!!!!!
Flouro vests on, triangles out front and back, jack, tyre lever, umbrella (yes it was still pouring) etc etc and Gary set to the job in hand. An hour later and realising there is no way on this earth he was ever going to dislodge the spare tyre after it being in situ for all of Molly's 20 years he swallowed his pride and I dialled 112 for assistance. Now this may sound dramatic but think about it rationally. We are stuck half way up a massive hill, partially blocking a turnoff for residents to reach their village, it is pouring with rain, we have no local sim card, speak very little of the language and we have a puncture!!!!
As it happens it was a great decision. The police got an interpreter on the phone in a 3 way conversation and sent out 2 policemen who couldn't release the spare either. They contacted our breakdown insurance company who sent out a breakdown truck with a mechanic on board. A few hours later we were on the road again but sadly the mechanic took a hammer and chisel to the spare tyre holder and also had to cut the wire holding the spare tyre in place. A few kilometres further on we came to a small town which seemed to specialise in tyres (few and far between on this journey) and now Molly is the proud owner of two new back tyres. Upside of the story - could have been much worse and downside - we currently have to carry the spare inside Molly when we travel. The wonderous thing about all of this is the outcome being achieved with no one, except the interpreter, speaking English and us not speaking Spanish.
It is now getting very dark and very late but we finally roll into the cute little seaside village of Muros and the rain has stopped. Our campsite is supposed to be just outside of this village but it is much further than that and the campsite is awful. It is closing in 3 days time and the owners have virtually abandoned it although they hot foot it to take our registration. The rain starts again in ernest during the night and will continue all through the following day and night as well. We are totally Molly bound and we do not even get to see the sea as the morning we are due to leave we have, once again, very high winds. As we head out of the campsite we stop to pay and the office is closed. We ring the bell, wander the campsite looking for them - maybe they are cleaning the sanitary block which has not been cleaned since we arrived - go to their accommodation but no-one is to be found - they truly have abandoned us. We fix a note of explanation against the door with our UK cell number on it and leave. The wind is getting stronger and we are keen to get on our way - we have wasted half an hour trying to find them. We feel guilty but we go. To this day we have not heard from them and wonder if we ever will.
Relieved to leave this awful place behind we are going to try a camperstop with electricity for just one night but once again we have to travel through mountains, which obviously involves more viaducts to get there along the Xunta-de-Galicia, stopping at a rural supermarket to stock up "Spanish style" where the fresh meat was hacked off a block and very cheap. Our supplies were getting dangerously low but alas still no hummus and when we came out?.........yep it was raining again. Stopping for a "menu of the day" lunch, which is cheap, involves many courses and stops us from eating in the evening, I decide it is time to harden up and try the local fish!!!!!! Putting aside its presentation, tail in mouth, it was actually very delicious and it has set me on a "fish course" much to Gary's delight.
Finally arriving at our Camperstop we discover it no longer exists and we decide to freedom camp in a Sports centre car park in Sanxenxo, watching the wind and kite surfers, for the night - something we said we would never do in Spain - and as we were joined by another camper at about midnight we spend a peaceful night feeling very safe and cosy. The wind and rain subside overnight, it is dark until at least 9am (no daylight saving in Spain) so we enjoy a well deserved lie in.
Tomorrow we head South for Portugal where we hope the weather will be better.
Such are the joys of travel - wouldn't be right without an adventure or two thrown in!!!!!!
Thursday, 16 October 2014
Spain - 1st Edition
First stop in Spain - Pamplona!!!!! Yep where the young run with the bulls.
It is quite a mysterious place with soooo much history and amazing architecture in the Old City but firstly we had to get there. Out came our trusty bikes for an 11km jaunt along the river - have to admit getting there was not too bad although not quite as flat as we had been led to believe -and we arrived at about 11am.
Following the route the bulls actually run we wandered around finally arriving at the bull ring just outside the city walls. Deciding we needed some fuel in the form of lunch we opted for a 3 course set lunch with water, wine and bread included for 10.50 euro each. Now, when you cannot speak the language anything goes when trying to figure if you are about to eat something unmentionable and the waiter and I were reduced to making "Old McDonald Farm" noises to distinguish whether the meat was pig (oink oink from me) and (neigh neigh from him) - OMG horse!!!!!!! And the flapping of wings and cock crowing for chicken (him not me). Next was a waving hand motion gliding through the air with a wierd shjutsh, shjutsh sound which we assumed was fish quickly sizzled on either side - Gary ordered this - and low and behold I had ordered - what??? Next came a whole bottle of red wine with an order from the waiter to "drink it down to the bottom" with much hand gesticulation included. All this was done with an absolutely straight face whilst most of the restaurant - us included - were laughing our heads off. The meal and wine were great, although Gary's squid (the fish) was too squidlike for me to even look at, and my chicken was delicious. We have had some wierd meals in Spain but find if we eat healthily at lunchtime we do not need food until breakfast the next morning. Seems better than stuffing yourself late at night and going to bed on a full stomach - cheaper too!!!!!
Finishing our meal we left the restaurant after many handshakes, walked out into the streets of Pamplona and everything had changed. All the shops were closed, the streets were dead - it was a ghost town -it was siesta time and nothing would reopen until 5pm. It was just 1.30pm so we decided to hightail it back to Molly. This time though with a full belly and half a bottle of wine in each of us it really was a mission. Losing our way didn't help either adding at least an extra two kms to the trip!!!!! Arriving back at Molly the heavens opened - home just in time which seems to happen a lot for us.
Our next intended stop was to be Burgos which we had been told was very nice. Travelling through small villages once again - this is such a nice way to see the grass roots of the country - through Arakil, Vitoria, Careterra, Monastario, we came within 3kms of our campsite and the road was closed. Seeing Burgos was just another big city, we were rerouted through it by Kate the GPS, we decided to move on to what was to be our alternate destination in Castrojeriz. What a smart move that was.
We really enjoyed our stay here at Camping Camino de Santiago. The weather was good, the camp was great as were the owners, the village of Castrojeriz so, so unique and pretty and we met some wonderful people from GB there. Papa (the owner) was very knowledgable about local birdlife and had some amazing pics on his amazing camera. We were spellbound for at least two hours just looking at photos. For those of you following us on Facebook this is where we went to the Castillo straight up the side of a mountain, through fir trees and rocky terrain, but it was well worth it. This was built firstly in the 9 century (Roma) and then expanded in the 14th century (Medieval) and there was "no charge" to enter.
Meandering through the village was delightful along the Pilgrim route and amongst this small village's many churches. Old houses built deeply into the hillsides (possibly just plain cave like dwellings originally where families had their animals sleeping inside with them) were being renovated. Windows, doors and electricity were being added and small chimneys stuck out through the top of the hillside which formed the roof. Just little Hobbit houses really. Having lunch at a peaceful Pilgrim cafe where a huge potato omelette costs a mere 2 euro we were suddenly inundated by an Asian tour group, the first we have seen in ages. They were not too bad and the young lady behind the counter coped really well - giving us a high five when it was all over.
Walking home we happened across "The hospital of the Heart" - a private Spanish house opened up to anyone who wishes to enter, food and drinks for Pilgrims laid out in the kitchen, books to read, art to ruminate over, poignant messages of hope and love attached to the most wonderful, natural photographs. A tranquil garden to sit in out of the sun and just muse. The owners were not there, they were in the village, such is their generosity and trust to and for their fellow man. We loved it - so simple - but this is exactly what our journey is about and we will always hold happy memories for Castrojeriz, a dilapidated village in the middle of nowhere with such a big heart and so much to give.
Here we spent a lovely evening with Lucy and Mal and Dave and Helen having dinner together and being spoiled by Papa with Grappa?? Well Gary was - I hate the stuff!!!!
Waving goodbye to lovely Lucy and Mal, the next morning we headed for Santillana del Mar heading over the mountains ranges (Europa Mataporquera), through lots of little picturesque villages, over rolling barren hills and into Cantabria Province. The scenery through Cantabria is breathtaking - mountains, viaducts and tunnels abound - and we rumble on through, or past, Polencia, Rio Izarilla, Santa Cruz, Barros, Tannos to our campsite in Santilla del Mar which is awful - there isn't a flat site in sight and when we do find a flatish area it is like the OK Coral. We eat dinner in the restaurant, multi course, and are presented with chicken swimming in a greasy gravy and an iceblock for desert!!!! Only in Spain!!!! Next morning we are woken to the sound of gunfire - a cannon salute or something? - which sets all the dogs in the immediate vicinity barking. This seems to go on forever and we later find out "it is only a bird scarer"!! The village of Santillana made up for it though as it is rather quaint. Many original buildings still stand and are in excellent condition or have been renovated and, of course, the architecture and history is something that we, in NZ, do not have.
We leave early, obviously, from the campsite. We have a long journey today to A Agolada, it is raining and we know we have to tackle the road through the Pico's d'Europa (the Peaks of Europe) a forboding trip for our Molly. The road becomes coastal at Vidlago and then mountainous at Hontaria and then we are on this brand new road whizzing along through the Peaks of Europe, over sky high viaducts (slight exaggeration here but felt and looked like it), through tunnel after tunnel (have I mentioned befor I have a tunnel phobia?) through Bones, Venta, Villvaciosa, San Miguel, Gijeon (large town), Aviles (huge town), on through farming communities divided by the viaducts, past Cortina and La Caridad to our second most wonderful campsite on the Spanish northern, rocky, rugged coast - Camping Gaivota - near Barreiros.
We are happy again.
It is quite a mysterious place with soooo much history and amazing architecture in the Old City but firstly we had to get there. Out came our trusty bikes for an 11km jaunt along the river - have to admit getting there was not too bad although not quite as flat as we had been led to believe -and we arrived at about 11am.
Following the route the bulls actually run we wandered around finally arriving at the bull ring just outside the city walls. Deciding we needed some fuel in the form of lunch we opted for a 3 course set lunch with water, wine and bread included for 10.50 euro each. Now, when you cannot speak the language anything goes when trying to figure if you are about to eat something unmentionable and the waiter and I were reduced to making "Old McDonald Farm" noises to distinguish whether the meat was pig (oink oink from me) and (neigh neigh from him) - OMG horse!!!!!!! And the flapping of wings and cock crowing for chicken (him not me). Next was a waving hand motion gliding through the air with a wierd shjutsh, shjutsh sound which we assumed was fish quickly sizzled on either side - Gary ordered this - and low and behold I had ordered - what??? Next came a whole bottle of red wine with an order from the waiter to "drink it down to the bottom" with much hand gesticulation included. All this was done with an absolutely straight face whilst most of the restaurant - us included - were laughing our heads off. The meal and wine were great, although Gary's squid (the fish) was too squidlike for me to even look at, and my chicken was delicious. We have had some wierd meals in Spain but find if we eat healthily at lunchtime we do not need food until breakfast the next morning. Seems better than stuffing yourself late at night and going to bed on a full stomach - cheaper too!!!!!
Finishing our meal we left the restaurant after many handshakes, walked out into the streets of Pamplona and everything had changed. All the shops were closed, the streets were dead - it was a ghost town -it was siesta time and nothing would reopen until 5pm. It was just 1.30pm so we decided to hightail it back to Molly. This time though with a full belly and half a bottle of wine in each of us it really was a mission. Losing our way didn't help either adding at least an extra two kms to the trip!!!!! Arriving back at Molly the heavens opened - home just in time which seems to happen a lot for us.
Our next intended stop was to be Burgos which we had been told was very nice. Travelling through small villages once again - this is such a nice way to see the grass roots of the country - through Arakil, Vitoria, Careterra, Monastario, we came within 3kms of our campsite and the road was closed. Seeing Burgos was just another big city, we were rerouted through it by Kate the GPS, we decided to move on to what was to be our alternate destination in Castrojeriz. What a smart move that was.
We really enjoyed our stay here at Camping Camino de Santiago. The weather was good, the camp was great as were the owners, the village of Castrojeriz so, so unique and pretty and we met some wonderful people from GB there. Papa (the owner) was very knowledgable about local birdlife and had some amazing pics on his amazing camera. We were spellbound for at least two hours just looking at photos. For those of you following us on Facebook this is where we went to the Castillo straight up the side of a mountain, through fir trees and rocky terrain, but it was well worth it. This was built firstly in the 9 century (Roma) and then expanded in the 14th century (Medieval) and there was "no charge" to enter.
Meandering through the village was delightful along the Pilgrim route and amongst this small village's many churches. Old houses built deeply into the hillsides (possibly just plain cave like dwellings originally where families had their animals sleeping inside with them) were being renovated. Windows, doors and electricity were being added and small chimneys stuck out through the top of the hillside which formed the roof. Just little Hobbit houses really. Having lunch at a peaceful Pilgrim cafe where a huge potato omelette costs a mere 2 euro we were suddenly inundated by an Asian tour group, the first we have seen in ages. They were not too bad and the young lady behind the counter coped really well - giving us a high five when it was all over.
Walking home we happened across "The hospital of the Heart" - a private Spanish house opened up to anyone who wishes to enter, food and drinks for Pilgrims laid out in the kitchen, books to read, art to ruminate over, poignant messages of hope and love attached to the most wonderful, natural photographs. A tranquil garden to sit in out of the sun and just muse. The owners were not there, they were in the village, such is their generosity and trust to and for their fellow man. We loved it - so simple - but this is exactly what our journey is about and we will always hold happy memories for Castrojeriz, a dilapidated village in the middle of nowhere with such a big heart and so much to give.
Here we spent a lovely evening with Lucy and Mal and Dave and Helen having dinner together and being spoiled by Papa with Grappa?? Well Gary was - I hate the stuff!!!!
Waving goodbye to lovely Lucy and Mal, the next morning we headed for Santillana del Mar heading over the mountains ranges (Europa Mataporquera), through lots of little picturesque villages, over rolling barren hills and into Cantabria Province. The scenery through Cantabria is breathtaking - mountains, viaducts and tunnels abound - and we rumble on through, or past, Polencia, Rio Izarilla, Santa Cruz, Barros, Tannos to our campsite in Santilla del Mar which is awful - there isn't a flat site in sight and when we do find a flatish area it is like the OK Coral. We eat dinner in the restaurant, multi course, and are presented with chicken swimming in a greasy gravy and an iceblock for desert!!!! Only in Spain!!!! Next morning we are woken to the sound of gunfire - a cannon salute or something? - which sets all the dogs in the immediate vicinity barking. This seems to go on forever and we later find out "it is only a bird scarer"!! The village of Santillana made up for it though as it is rather quaint. Many original buildings still stand and are in excellent condition or have been renovated and, of course, the architecture and history is something that we, in NZ, do not have.
We leave early, obviously, from the campsite. We have a long journey today to A Agolada, it is raining and we know we have to tackle the road through the Pico's d'Europa (the Peaks of Europe) a forboding trip for our Molly. The road becomes coastal at Vidlago and then mountainous at Hontaria and then we are on this brand new road whizzing along through the Peaks of Europe, over sky high viaducts (slight exaggeration here but felt and looked like it), through tunnel after tunnel (have I mentioned befor I have a tunnel phobia?) through Bones, Venta, Villvaciosa, San Miguel, Gijeon (large town), Aviles (huge town), on through farming communities divided by the viaducts, past Cortina and La Caridad to our second most wonderful campsite on the Spanish northern, rocky, rugged coast - Camping Gaivota - near Barreiros.
We are happy again.
Monday, 13 October 2014
France - 3rd Edition
Travelling through amazing countryside, rolling hills and farms - from the Mid Pyrenees into the High Pyrenees - and passing through many small and isolated French villages we realised how lucky we were weatherwise. The day was fantastically sunny and the journey long and very, very interesting. Many of the minor roads, which we tend to travel as opposed to motorways, are lined with very old, proud Plane trees which have been planted very close to the edge of the road - either that or the road has been widened to meet modern traffic volumes - which give the sense that the trees are literally jumping out at you as you drive through. It can be very disconcerting as you drive along seeing these majestic, gnarled, elderly trees, a little bruised here and there, especially with the overhang that Molly has!!!!! We are on our way to a campsite at Plage de Vieux Boucau near Port d'Albret and as we pass through Thermes Magnoac, Castelnau Magnoac, Puntous, Trie-ser-Baise, Castex Mielan and Tillac we come to the magical town of Marciac which actually encourages campervans to stop by providing a special parking area to do so. We are just to the South of Bordeaux and although we feel we are in the middle of nowhere we are surrounded by vineyards and even a Circus School????? The autumn colours are stunning.
There is little traffic, we have passed one camper during the last 100kms, and at St.Germè we see our first centre pivot (Rob and Rach)!!!!!!
We bypass Tasque (too big) and hit Villeneuve where obviously they are celebrating something because everyone has a dead pinetree at their gate decorated with white, scrunched up paper balls!!!! If anyone can throw a light on this strange tradition we would love to hear from you otherwise we will just remain ignorant.
Travelling on through Artasenx and back out into the countryside we find a "Vietnamese Restaurant" literally in the middle of nowhere. My, this is certainly some adventure today.
Anyway after hitting a few kilometres of heavy fog - on a beautiful sunny day? - we arrive at Plage de Viuex Boucau, just outside of Soustons. Having looked at 2 overcrowded Camperstops, where revolving campers go "out" and back "in" to overcome the 3 day maximum stay because it is a cheap French family holiday, we opt for the campsite at the base of the sand dunes on a surfer beach. Magic.
From here we can bike to the little town, walk along the beach, visit the Saturday market for local produce, relax and have fun. We spend 3 wonderful days here but the whole place will soon close down for the season. We are finding this a lot.
Next stop St. Jean de Luz just South of Biarritz where we sat on the rocks watching the roaring waves and the surfies trying to catch that "special one", and then yes - the French leg of our journey is over, until next time, for tomorrow we arrive in Spain.
There is little traffic, we have passed one camper during the last 100kms, and at St.Germè we see our first centre pivot (Rob and Rach)!!!!!!
We bypass Tasque (too big) and hit Villeneuve where obviously they are celebrating something because everyone has a dead pinetree at their gate decorated with white, scrunched up paper balls!!!! If anyone can throw a light on this strange tradition we would love to hear from you otherwise we will just remain ignorant.
Travelling on through Artasenx and back out into the countryside we find a "Vietnamese Restaurant" literally in the middle of nowhere. My, this is certainly some adventure today.
Anyway after hitting a few kilometres of heavy fog - on a beautiful sunny day? - we arrive at Plage de Viuex Boucau, just outside of Soustons. Having looked at 2 overcrowded Camperstops, where revolving campers go "out" and back "in" to overcome the 3 day maximum stay because it is a cheap French family holiday, we opt for the campsite at the base of the sand dunes on a surfer beach. Magic.
From here we can bike to the little town, walk along the beach, visit the Saturday market for local produce, relax and have fun. We spend 3 wonderful days here but the whole place will soon close down for the season. We are finding this a lot.
Next stop St. Jean de Luz just South of Biarritz where we sat on the rocks watching the roaring waves and the surfies trying to catch that "special one", and then yes - the French leg of our journey is over, until next time, for tomorrow we arrive in Spain.
Thursday, 2 October 2014
France 2nd edition
Contrary to the previous blog we did not move on??? We were enticed to stay at the mention of amazing Roman ruins within walking distance of Saint Remy - they are a combined passion so there was no doubt we would be heading that way.
Walking the kms back into the township and through the other side we were amazed at how different the atmosphere was compared to Sunday - it was so very, very empty and quiet and many shops were not open. We however trudged on, up the hill to the ruins, in the sunshine - the day was beautiful - to find the gates closed!!!!!! A notice stated that on this one particular day there was an "exceptional closure"??????? Mmmm.
Not to be beaten we found a track across a donkey meadow and up another hill which took us round to the back of the ruins where we could look down on the whole archeological site albeit through a high fence. So all was not lost and we were 15 Euro better off!!!!! To add to this we also discovered the much neglected quarry site where they chipped out the large blocks of stone to build their structures. Bonuses all round.
That night the couple from Australia - Sandy and Donald - invited us over for pre dinner drinks and conversation. Donald is like Neil - a mine of information - and they have been travelling for 3 years so their help was invaluable. It is great when you meet like minded people and hopefully we will stay in touch. During our conversations it was mentioned that there was a market in the town the next morning so we decided to stay yet another day. This is the beauty of the way we travel - free spirits!!! During the night though the weather turned and rain set in. We said our farewells and hightailed it out of there, packing up in the wet, heading for the South West French coast and hopefully more sunshine. There will be another market in another place that we can peruse.
So the GPS is set for Marseillan just outside of Agde and the rain is following us. We pass by Arles, seeing its Old Town, but it is just another big city really. We whip through St.Gilles where boats look rather bleak lined up along the Petite Rhine bobbing around in the pouring rain. Le Galat, Lunel, Lunel Veil, Ballargues are all places which would have been much nicer to see in the sunshine. We drive through "uncared for looking" vineyards, the vines laden with ripening fruit. We drive through huge Industrial areas and wonder where we are going and why? We drive along a peninsular and the vineyards slowly start to improve in appearance and the sky begins to clear as the rain has stopped. Eventually we arrive at the Marseillan campsite and finally the sun emerges. A very late lunch and a glass of wine under the awning - all is good.
Planning on staying here at least 4 nights as the forcast is sooo good we have plenty of time to explore the region and mainly on foot. Marseillan is small and is obviously a seasonal town. Most shops, including fresh food shops are either closed or closing and have some amazing bargains to be had - if you need anything that is. Freshly rotissoried, absolutely delightful chickens, with enough french fries to feed an army, are available for 11 Euro - believe me that is cheap here - and that equates to two meals for us. Wine is cheap, especially if you are around when a shop is closing. 3litres = 5 euro and I have found the best Mielle Fuilles since Bath!!!!!
We are actually having a lot of fun here. The camp closes, along with everything else, on Tuesday so it is not very busy but all its facilities are still up and running including the big outdoor heated swimming pool with waterslide, whirl pool and anything else you might need. Everywhere is fresh and immaculate with plenty of loungers poolside plus 1 hour free wifi per day in the pool area. Nowhere is crowded and there is plenty of room to spare.
The beautiful sandy beach is across the road which stretches for miles and the sea is still warm. Yesterday we walked left along the beach to a pretty harbour and today we walked to the right - hoping to walk to Agde. Tripping along the waters edge, absolutely awesome, with Crocs in hand, the sky blue and the sun shining, we saw notices saying we were leaving Marseillan Beach but with Agde in our sites we floated on chatting away. Suddenly Gary's jaw dropped and he mumbled "has that girl got anything on?" "Course she has Gary - don't be silly" I say, squinting into the sunlight for a better look. Next thing 2 male joggers flopped past - totally naked! Next thing a man further ahead suddenly stopped and bent over to examine a shell in the sand - totally naked and not a nice look either! The beach was becoming more densly populated by the minute and everyone was starkers!!!!!! I have to say at this point that there were some amazing bodies on that beach but most were gross and secondly, if you are not already aware, there are so many different types, shapes, lengths, positions and sizes of men's penis - it is truly astounding. I have never seen, firstly, so many limp penis flopping from one leg to the other as they are marched up and down the beach and, secondly, so many men playing with themselves!!!!!! Why do both men and women, of all ages I might add, choose to lie on a beach, legs splayed, displaying their genitals to all and sundry and risk sunburn to boot? The pendulous breasts, the sagging tums, the enormous waistlines no longer seem so bad after todays excursion but there was one naturist I really did respect. A woman - tall, brown, slim maybe late 50's - with just one breast and one mastectomy scar. In my mind that was courageous.
This beach went on for at least 2kms and abruptly stopped at the entrance to a harbour. Phew we thought - over it! Nah - the harbour was Naturist and so was the surrounding massive village, with highrises and houses, shops and restaurants. All in all the beach and land complex would easily have covered 5km if not more. We desperately tried to find our way out of this "sight assault" but an hour later in the scorching sun we were still stuck inside this never ending village. Have to mention here we were not the only ones walking around clothed but we were definitely very much in the minority. Mustering our combined strength and eyes firmly fixed above waistline height we bravely walked into a restaurant and had a drink. My goodness we needed the fortification because we had just realised there was no way back to Molly other than retracing our steps along the beach. Another 2km of................!
To put the record straight we have nothing against nakedness, nor the male female body form but this was almost sleazy by some. If there had been another route for us to take we definitely would have. Maybe a notice or two on the beach? If nothing else it would have saved us at least 5kms worth of Croc wear and my rose tinted glasses would not have been shattered. Hey ho - just another adventure!!!!!!
So our 4 nights are up and the time has arrived for us to move on again as we slowly head towards Spain. We are travelling to Montolieu today with a stopover in Carcassonne to explore the Medieval city and its beautiful 12th century Chateau. Finding some sort of parking spot is a mission in itself but eventually we plump for one off the road and outside an apartment complex. Molly fits well in the space but I am sure it was not meant for her????? 15 mins later we are at the gate of the Old City walls on top of the hill. This place is magic and if you let your imagination roam free you can visulise medieval people gracefully walking through the streets and the hub bub of then daily life. Now, as you walk the well worn cobbles, the streets are filled with souvenir shops and expensive restaurants but the architecture, the buildings, the amazing way in which they were all constructed so many centuries ago is mind blowing. We could have stayed there a lot longer but the day was getting late and we needed to get to our campsite. This place was well worth the visit.
Arriving in Montolieu at a very nice campsite for only 10 Euro a night we realised we had arrived at a village that purely associates itself with books and maybe a bit of printing history thrown in as well and is otherwise known as "the Village of books". So next day we amble, once again to the top of a hill, into the village to explore these "libraries". Today is Monday and throughout most of France Monday is another day off and most things are closed - that is if you can find much open in the first place. The streets were sooooo quiet but we did find a few second hand bookshops (libraries) open to rummage around in. They also have a great tradition of leaving books on windowsills and other shelfy places for you to exchange for free with one instruction - that when you have finished reading the book you leave it elsewhere for someone else to enjoy. This town used to be fortified and stretches out on a rocky bluff between two steep valleys. It was very picturesque and rugged and we even found a Boulangerie open for bread and a cafe for coffee but there was nothing else to stay here for.
Unfortunately that night it poured torrentially and next day we were informed that the surrounding areas were flooded so we relaxed there for another day before setting off for a campsite in Cassagnabere-Tournes.
This was a very pleasant pretty journey mainly through vineyards and fields of sunflowers and as we drove west through sleepy villages (Moussoulens: Alzonne: Castelnaudary: Avignonet) we drove into sunshine. Knowing our penchant for driving the wrong way down one way streets, during our search for an ATM, we did just that in VilleFranche .......again! Safely getting out of that one........again, we carried on through Neuloux, skirted around Auterive (very large city) finally coming to a stop in St Silpice-sur-? after Gary spied an ATM. Here we got some money, bought our first piece of Rocqforte cheese from a market, met a lady in a Boulangerie who sold amazing Mille Fuilles and was totally obsessed with Ritchie McCaw, won 5Euro to spend at the local supermarket so bought 2 bottles of wine, had our card refused at the petrol station and had to pay 50cents to use the air machine for Mollys tyres which incidentally didn't work!!!!!! We shall not forget this village in a hurry but on we travelled once more through Boussens: Le Frechet and on to Aurignac where we stopped again mainly because this was a village with some interesting looking ramparts, archways and churches. We were not disappointed either as we wandered the streets, once more alone, uphill and down dale. There seem to be no shops in these villages......where do people buy their food and where do all the people go? The villages have so much history attached to them and are so gorgeous but they are empty!!!!!
So now we here in Cassagnabere-Tournes and it is hot. We are staying in an Eco campsite and there are just 3 campervans here. We are immediately adopted by a very pretty cat and are welcomed to the site by a delightful English couple, Russell and Daphne, who we spend a very enjoyable first evening with.....yes drinking plenty of wine and eating good food. Unfortunately the next morning they leave along with the other campervan so we are the only ones in the whole of the campsite - although it sounds as though someone else is here now.
After waving goodbye to Russell and Daphne we head into the village. Mmmmmm............what is with these villages. They are beautiful but there is no sign of life! There is not one shop in this place but there is a closed post office. Up a side street a few men are doing some roadworks, but it is hot and there seems little forward momentum. We do hear children laughing - there is obviously a small school somewhere - and there is a cock crowing and a hen rushing around in a yard with three baby chicks. We are just thinking there is nothing special in this place when we come across a restaurant and boy this place was special. We ate and drank so much good French food and wine, all for a fixed price, we had to lie down when we finally got back to Molly so very little has been done today.
Tomorrow we move on again and slowly but surely we are moving closer to Spain.
Walking the kms back into the township and through the other side we were amazed at how different the atmosphere was compared to Sunday - it was so very, very empty and quiet and many shops were not open. We however trudged on, up the hill to the ruins, in the sunshine - the day was beautiful - to find the gates closed!!!!!! A notice stated that on this one particular day there was an "exceptional closure"??????? Mmmm.
Not to be beaten we found a track across a donkey meadow and up another hill which took us round to the back of the ruins where we could look down on the whole archeological site albeit through a high fence. So all was not lost and we were 15 Euro better off!!!!! To add to this we also discovered the much neglected quarry site where they chipped out the large blocks of stone to build their structures. Bonuses all round.
That night the couple from Australia - Sandy and Donald - invited us over for pre dinner drinks and conversation. Donald is like Neil - a mine of information - and they have been travelling for 3 years so their help was invaluable. It is great when you meet like minded people and hopefully we will stay in touch. During our conversations it was mentioned that there was a market in the town the next morning so we decided to stay yet another day. This is the beauty of the way we travel - free spirits!!! During the night though the weather turned and rain set in. We said our farewells and hightailed it out of there, packing up in the wet, heading for the South West French coast and hopefully more sunshine. There will be another market in another place that we can peruse.
So the GPS is set for Marseillan just outside of Agde and the rain is following us. We pass by Arles, seeing its Old Town, but it is just another big city really. We whip through St.Gilles where boats look rather bleak lined up along the Petite Rhine bobbing around in the pouring rain. Le Galat, Lunel, Lunel Veil, Ballargues are all places which would have been much nicer to see in the sunshine. We drive through "uncared for looking" vineyards, the vines laden with ripening fruit. We drive through huge Industrial areas and wonder where we are going and why? We drive along a peninsular and the vineyards slowly start to improve in appearance and the sky begins to clear as the rain has stopped. Eventually we arrive at the Marseillan campsite and finally the sun emerges. A very late lunch and a glass of wine under the awning - all is good.
Planning on staying here at least 4 nights as the forcast is sooo good we have plenty of time to explore the region and mainly on foot. Marseillan is small and is obviously a seasonal town. Most shops, including fresh food shops are either closed or closing and have some amazing bargains to be had - if you need anything that is. Freshly rotissoried, absolutely delightful chickens, with enough french fries to feed an army, are available for 11 Euro - believe me that is cheap here - and that equates to two meals for us. Wine is cheap, especially if you are around when a shop is closing. 3litres = 5 euro and I have found the best Mielle Fuilles since Bath!!!!!
We are actually having a lot of fun here. The camp closes, along with everything else, on Tuesday so it is not very busy but all its facilities are still up and running including the big outdoor heated swimming pool with waterslide, whirl pool and anything else you might need. Everywhere is fresh and immaculate with plenty of loungers poolside plus 1 hour free wifi per day in the pool area. Nowhere is crowded and there is plenty of room to spare.
The beautiful sandy beach is across the road which stretches for miles and the sea is still warm. Yesterday we walked left along the beach to a pretty harbour and today we walked to the right - hoping to walk to Agde. Tripping along the waters edge, absolutely awesome, with Crocs in hand, the sky blue and the sun shining, we saw notices saying we were leaving Marseillan Beach but with Agde in our sites we floated on chatting away. Suddenly Gary's jaw dropped and he mumbled "has that girl got anything on?" "Course she has Gary - don't be silly" I say, squinting into the sunlight for a better look. Next thing 2 male joggers flopped past - totally naked! Next thing a man further ahead suddenly stopped and bent over to examine a shell in the sand - totally naked and not a nice look either! The beach was becoming more densly populated by the minute and everyone was starkers!!!!!! I have to say at this point that there were some amazing bodies on that beach but most were gross and secondly, if you are not already aware, there are so many different types, shapes, lengths, positions and sizes of men's penis - it is truly astounding. I have never seen, firstly, so many limp penis flopping from one leg to the other as they are marched up and down the beach and, secondly, so many men playing with themselves!!!!!! Why do both men and women, of all ages I might add, choose to lie on a beach, legs splayed, displaying their genitals to all and sundry and risk sunburn to boot? The pendulous breasts, the sagging tums, the enormous waistlines no longer seem so bad after todays excursion but there was one naturist I really did respect. A woman - tall, brown, slim maybe late 50's - with just one breast and one mastectomy scar. In my mind that was courageous.
This beach went on for at least 2kms and abruptly stopped at the entrance to a harbour. Phew we thought - over it! Nah - the harbour was Naturist and so was the surrounding massive village, with highrises and houses, shops and restaurants. All in all the beach and land complex would easily have covered 5km if not more. We desperately tried to find our way out of this "sight assault" but an hour later in the scorching sun we were still stuck inside this never ending village. Have to mention here we were not the only ones walking around clothed but we were definitely very much in the minority. Mustering our combined strength and eyes firmly fixed above waistline height we bravely walked into a restaurant and had a drink. My goodness we needed the fortification because we had just realised there was no way back to Molly other than retracing our steps along the beach. Another 2km of................!
To put the record straight we have nothing against nakedness, nor the male female body form but this was almost sleazy by some. If there had been another route for us to take we definitely would have. Maybe a notice or two on the beach? If nothing else it would have saved us at least 5kms worth of Croc wear and my rose tinted glasses would not have been shattered. Hey ho - just another adventure!!!!!!
So our 4 nights are up and the time has arrived for us to move on again as we slowly head towards Spain. We are travelling to Montolieu today with a stopover in Carcassonne to explore the Medieval city and its beautiful 12th century Chateau. Finding some sort of parking spot is a mission in itself but eventually we plump for one off the road and outside an apartment complex. Molly fits well in the space but I am sure it was not meant for her????? 15 mins later we are at the gate of the Old City walls on top of the hill. This place is magic and if you let your imagination roam free you can visulise medieval people gracefully walking through the streets and the hub bub of then daily life. Now, as you walk the well worn cobbles, the streets are filled with souvenir shops and expensive restaurants but the architecture, the buildings, the amazing way in which they were all constructed so many centuries ago is mind blowing. We could have stayed there a lot longer but the day was getting late and we needed to get to our campsite. This place was well worth the visit.
Arriving in Montolieu at a very nice campsite for only 10 Euro a night we realised we had arrived at a village that purely associates itself with books and maybe a bit of printing history thrown in as well and is otherwise known as "the Village of books". So next day we amble, once again to the top of a hill, into the village to explore these "libraries". Today is Monday and throughout most of France Monday is another day off and most things are closed - that is if you can find much open in the first place. The streets were sooooo quiet but we did find a few second hand bookshops (libraries) open to rummage around in. They also have a great tradition of leaving books on windowsills and other shelfy places for you to exchange for free with one instruction - that when you have finished reading the book you leave it elsewhere for someone else to enjoy. This town used to be fortified and stretches out on a rocky bluff between two steep valleys. It was very picturesque and rugged and we even found a Boulangerie open for bread and a cafe for coffee but there was nothing else to stay here for.
Unfortunately that night it poured torrentially and next day we were informed that the surrounding areas were flooded so we relaxed there for another day before setting off for a campsite in Cassagnabere-Tournes.
This was a very pleasant pretty journey mainly through vineyards and fields of sunflowers and as we drove west through sleepy villages (Moussoulens: Alzonne: Castelnaudary: Avignonet) we drove into sunshine. Knowing our penchant for driving the wrong way down one way streets, during our search for an ATM, we did just that in VilleFranche .......again! Safely getting out of that one........again, we carried on through Neuloux, skirted around Auterive (very large city) finally coming to a stop in St Silpice-sur-? after Gary spied an ATM. Here we got some money, bought our first piece of Rocqforte cheese from a market, met a lady in a Boulangerie who sold amazing Mille Fuilles and was totally obsessed with Ritchie McCaw, won 5Euro to spend at the local supermarket so bought 2 bottles of wine, had our card refused at the petrol station and had to pay 50cents to use the air machine for Mollys tyres which incidentally didn't work!!!!!! We shall not forget this village in a hurry but on we travelled once more through Boussens: Le Frechet and on to Aurignac where we stopped again mainly because this was a village with some interesting looking ramparts, archways and churches. We were not disappointed either as we wandered the streets, once more alone, uphill and down dale. There seem to be no shops in these villages......where do people buy their food and where do all the people go? The villages have so much history attached to them and are so gorgeous but they are empty!!!!!
So now we here in Cassagnabere-Tournes and it is hot. We are staying in an Eco campsite and there are just 3 campervans here. We are immediately adopted by a very pretty cat and are welcomed to the site by a delightful English couple, Russell and Daphne, who we spend a very enjoyable first evening with.....yes drinking plenty of wine and eating good food. Unfortunately the next morning they leave along with the other campervan so we are the only ones in the whole of the campsite - although it sounds as though someone else is here now.
After waving goodbye to Russell and Daphne we head into the village. Mmmmmm............what is with these villages. They are beautiful but there is no sign of life! There is not one shop in this place but there is a closed post office. Up a side street a few men are doing some roadworks, but it is hot and there seems little forward momentum. We do hear children laughing - there is obviously a small school somewhere - and there is a cock crowing and a hen rushing around in a yard with three baby chicks. We are just thinking there is nothing special in this place when we come across a restaurant and boy this place was special. We ate and drank so much good French food and wine, all for a fixed price, we had to lie down when we finally got back to Molly so very little has been done today.
Tomorrow we move on again and slowly but surely we are moving closer to Spain.
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