Tag: France

En-Route – Languedoc #2

As I said previously, my assumptions that central France would be devoid of traffic, were completely unfounded.  First of all, there was nowhere to stay in Clermont-Ferrand. We must have visited at least twenty hotels only to be told that they were full, or to see ‘Hôtel Complet’ signs on their doors.  Ekon1edq2AV6-yiS1tGvBBjocBuAvery time we stopped we were either just behind or just in front of some people asking exactly the same question: “vous avez un chamber pour ce soir?”. This became very frustrating.  The weather was clouding over and night was drawing quickly in – we had to find somewhere.  We even phoned and asked the lady we had booked our gîte with to see if she knew of anywhere, maybe in her village, we would have driven all the way if we had to.  No such luck.

We drove further on, to a town called Issoire.  This was a much smaller town, obviously thriving as it had quite a number of hotels.  All full.

We drove on still further into the gloom towards small town called St. Flour. This was a pretty town in a (hilly) Harrogate sort of way – well equipped with hotels – all full.  However, one receptionist did suggest that such-and-such a hotel about five miles down the road (and into the countryside) would probably have some rooms. As before – all full.

However, the receptionist at this off-the-beaten-track hotel was on the phone to another hotel asking for rooms for the man who was in front of me (and being told that they too were ‘complet’). So, we knew now to bypass that particular hotel, and what’s more, the man at the counter was now behind us!

We eventually found a hotel at Garabit.  This, at the time, meant nothing to us but they did have a room for three people (their last) and we were able to finally stop for the night, after twelve hours on the road.  The meals here were interesting. We asked for a well-cooked burger for Betony (which came bleeding – I had to pretend it was ketchup). Sharon had a turkey drumstick, cooked like a confit of duck and I had POUNTI, which I had never seen or heard of before. It was like a hot slab of pate de terrine.

Altogether, the evening there was delightful, if a little cold. Our room was so cold that we had to bring in our quilt from the car – we would need this at Stephen’s place.

Our travel-luck changed the next day, because as the sun came up after we departed the hotel, we were in for a surprise. Despite some fairly bleak countryside outside the hotel itself we were soon to see some really beautiful sights.

Another trip to France – #1

We set off on Thursday 13th July (probably 2000). We1 drove beneath the permanent summer cloud to Dover.  Here, it brightened a bit as we boarded the ferry.  I though that this was a good omen.  We had booked a room in Boulogne and, driving down the new AutoRoute I reflected that the last time I had driven down this way was with Roger Forsey.  He and I (both recently divorced at that time) had decided to drive to Dieppe for a few days, for no other reason than to go there – and to buy some booze on the way back.  That time, it was absolutely sheeting down with rain and one lane of the then new motorway was blocked off because of the high winds. My reflection was that this time there was a strong sunlight and everything looked rosy.  Another happy omen.

It was good to be in France.

Friday 14th was Bastille Day and because it was Friday this year the whole of France had decided to have a long weekend.  This was both good and bad.  Good because it meant that there were no lorries on the road and bad because – well, read on.

It had rained during the night, which made the morning fairly cold.  We decided upon shorts and sandals, hoping that the weather would clear up a few miles down the road. We were heading for Languedoc – specifically for St. Jean de Fos, near Gignac.  This meant that our route was unfamiliar and that we would have to somehow circumnavigate Paris.  This, in itself is enough to make you give up all hope and to continue with the holidaying in Blackpool.  However, Sharon had taken our map and photocopied the western part of Paris – blown it up to A3 and marked our proposed route with highlighter pen2.  We were confident.

However, we missed the first major turning that we needed.  There was just the one tiny signpost quite easily seen as you PASS the exit!

So, we ended up following the much ‘traffic-lighted’ road right in to the heart of Paris – at one stage we were hurtling towards the very centre, but I managed to turn back onto the periferique, where I was able to keep up a steady 85mph (!!) because that was what everyone else (and perhaps because there was very little traffic) was doing.  The exit we now wanted was at the exact opposite side of Paris to where Sharon’s now useless photocopies wanted us to be.  Still, we managed to get to the area where an exit was marked on our map, but we couldn’t find it exactly.

Who knew that there were two periferiques? – SEE.

We were on the ‘interior’ but the exit we needed was on the ‘exterior’.  All of those Parisians heading out to the coast had by now blocked the road we wanted anyway, so after a time where we were just tootling around the back streets of southern Paris, we found a road that was going in roughly our direction.  The traffic lights however, thought that it was still a normal work day and spent a good hour teasing us to spending more time in southern Paris than we really needed to.

We were heading for Clermont-Ferrand and in my ignorance and grossly inflated overconfidence (not to mention arrogance) – we had not booked an overnight stay.  I had been advised to do so, it being Bastille Day etc. but no – I thought that as the route took us through central France it must surly be quieter there.  After all, I hadn’t been to this area of France before, so why should it be busy!  The motorways out of Paris towards Bordeaux and the west coast resorts were full of traffic, but ours was not.  It was patently obvious that I was correct, as when we did eventually reach the motorway south, it was clear and empty (and toll-free incidentally).  We had a terrific ride down, despite the cloud, on a very empty road.

To say that ultimately, I was wrong in all of my assumptions, would be a massive understatement.  Tbc (soon).

1 – This time I was travelling with my new girlfriend Sharon, (now my wife), and her daughter Betony. Although we had camped in the south of France the previous year, some of the venues we visit on this journey are new to her but much travelled by me.

2 – Remember, no SatNavs back then.

The Final Road Home – Bohemia #8

Day 7

After breakfast on Sunday, we were on our way.

Stephen and I had to fight over who would drive first but I pulled rank and said it was my car, so he could get lost. I hadn’t driven in Berlin yet and wanted to do so.  The weather was still fine and the drive out was ok.  We only had one hold-up, but saw a second incident.

It wasn’t clear what the original incident had been but one silly old duffer had run his car into something in front of us (we think that it was the central reservation, as no other car had stopped).  Well, he just got out of his car and walked away (in search of a telephone I expect) and left the car there, in the fast lane – with his wife still sitting in it! Silly old sod.  A little later on we saw a rescue helicopter in a field with all the services around it.  Something must have happened earlier and was in the process of clearing up as we saw them lifting a stretcher into the chopper.

The first sign we saw that there had once been a split in the country was when we passed an old customs post which had once blocked the autobahn.  I’m surprised that they hadn’t demolished it.

I had phoned France before we left the hotel in Berlin and had booked a room in the same Formula 1 we had stayed in on our first night. At least I think I had.  The lady on the phone spoke no English and my French is poor to say the least.  However, we struggled through.  I wasn’t sure whether I had agreed to pay by Visa, if we didn’t turn up on time (which was the idea) or whether she just held the room until 19:00pm, which was company policy.  However, when we got there after 20:00pm, we had a room and she had me on her list. We could have been there earlier, but for the French.

We had filled up in Germany, when we had only 1 – 2 gallons left. We could possibly have made the next petrol station but it wasn’t worth the risk.  I estimated that we might JUST have enough to get us to the Shuttle (and therefore fill up in England, where petrol is cheaper).  However, we were about 10 miles short of the hotel and maybe 30 miles short of the tunnel when I thought that perhaps we had only 1 – 2 gallons left in the tank again. We had done around 400 miles by this time too, so we thought it best that we fill up.  We were a shade inside Boring Belgium and we had no cash, so I had to use my Visa and would therefore need to put at least half a tank in, to make it worthwhile.  But that in itself wasn’t a problem. The problem was that we had to come off the motorway and drive into the nearest town.  The French were just leaving this town in their millions, having just spent Sunday on the beach, in the hot sun.  It took us almost two hours to get to the hotel, just ten miles away.  Mind, that also include half an hour trying to find the hotel again.  When we did find it, we realised that it was next to a massive hypermarket, something we had missed when we visited last week.

We ate that night in the barbecue place next door. A basic choice of food, all chargrilled, with chips and salad – the usual French fayre. It wasn’t too bad but we were spanked again for price.  I actually complained in French again, that the bill included too many beers and the waiter understood, agreed and altered the bill.  I’m getting good.

Day 8

In the morning, we took a look around the Carrefour Hypermarket and stocked up on beer and wine. I couldn’t find my favourite coffee, so had to do without.  We then called at the Cité de Europe, the new Meadowhall type of place by the side of the Shuttle terminal.  Here we found a small looking, but in fact quite large Tesco dedicated to beers, wines and spirits, nothing else. The prices were good too.  It’s the only place in France that offers a full range of New World wines.  We were able to buy Nottage Hill and Rosemount Aussie wines at about 25% less than at home in the UK.  Lovely.

We then set off up the road toward England. We arrived at the Shuttle terminal and were told that the next train was boarding “now” and that we could get on it if we wished.  We asked what time the next one would be and were told “half an hour” – so we selected that one as it gave us just enough time to go around the duty-free shop.  So, we did this, then drove to the loading area.  We were now told that there would be a delay of 20 minutes and that they would in fact begin loading at 13:30pm.

This was actually even better. It was almost 13:00 and we now had time to eat our lunch, purchased in the hypermarket, in the sunshine. So we set out the car’s picnic rug, disembowelled the car of all food (in bags, and cool boxes), knives and forks, cruet and drinks.  We were sat there having a merry old time. The Spanish women sat on the bench next to us fair laughed when I went back for the second loaf of now droopy, baguette. The Germans behind us watched disdainfully, but we were ‘alright Jack’, the sun was out, the food was nice and we were going nowhere for half an hour.  We then heard the announcement to say that boarding would commence immediately and knowing better (it was only 13:15pm), we carried on eating.  Then the traffic began to move.

Well, you’ve never seen a car re-packed so quickly!

Up came the rug, with all its contents, to be dumped unceremoniously in the boot and everything else dumped in the back seat with Ben.  I was still trying to finish my coke and get into the car as we drove off.  I heard something drop even then, but couldn’t see what it was.  As we drove towards the ramps, I noticed that the eye-piece for the video camera was missing and now knew exactly what had dropped under the car. I had Stephen reverse the car up the ramps and back the way we had come – to where we had stopped for lunch.  A bit of arm waving, pointing and all known languages persuaded the troops to let me back into the waiting area where I found, the now much run-over, eye-piece. It cost me £25 to replace.

We had a little snackette on the only piece of grass available at Watford Gap service station and managed to arrive back in Mirfield about 18:00pm.  Ben and I washed the car on our way back to Linthwaite and that was that.

Our adventure was over. Thank you for staying with us.

Czech with Mates – Bohemia #1

Day 1

We set off from Mirfield in indifferent weather, about 15:30pm on Monday 17th July.  Despite taking the scenic route through Flockton, we made good time towards the M25, despite being held up by a large load on the M1.  We were then held up on the M25 by slow-moving commuter traffic, about 19:30pm. This mean that our arrival in Folkestone was a little delayed but we were still very much on time to catch the 23:00pm1 Shuttle. As it happens, we were able to board one earlier at 22:00pm and had a smooth run through to France.  Even so, by this time, we were knackered and decided to get booked into a Formula 1 for the night.  The one in Calais was booked up, the next one, in Dunkirk took some finding and when we got there, that too was booked up. However, we were advised that there were spaces in the second Dunkirk hotel, in Saint Pol sur Mer, just up the road. We drove around the deserted streets for almost an hour trying to find this bugger and when we did, found it to be beside one of the major routes north to Belgium – not the one we had taken2.

Day 2 – part a

After the night here in Dunkirk, we set off for the Czech Republic.

We drove up through the rest of France and then through boring Belgium, through the small finger of Holland that juts between Germany and Belgium, and then into Germany.  Lunch was by a service station in the finger of Holland.  Lunch didn’t include a boiled egg as they had been overcooked by Stephen. He just laughed.  We passed under the giant Dortmund-Essen conurbation, and passing Cologne Cathedral on our left. We carried on down past Frankfurt and underneath the planes that were constantly landing there (we got some good shots of undercarriage through the sun roof).  We drove through Nuremberg and on towards the border at Weiden. The countryside here is beautiful and despite the rain, we have had excellent views since Nuremberg.  Wooded mountains faced us as we drove up and in the direction of Czech and the rain was drying up.  We were looking forward to getting into Czech itself and finding a small hotel on the road, or at worst in Pilsen, and having an evening meal. By now it was about 20:00pm.

That didn’t happen.  See next post (Day 2 – part b)

1 – Given that ‘Day 1’ included a trip through the channel tunnel, which only opened to the public in December 1994, I guess that ‘our’ trip may well have been 1995. It certainly wasn’t later than this. I do remember having been through the tunnel before ‘our’ trip.

2 – This entire journey turned out to be an example of what we miss when we have SatNavs – which were unthought of back in 1995!

Saint Tropez – Final days #8

Tuesday 20th July

We waited in for John Denton to arrive, from Quarry Garage.  I waited outside the camp site for two and a half hours, so I could let him in.  He arrived1 at 12:30pm.  He then checked the car over, drilling holes here and there as he went and then handed us a big handful of cable-ties.  These could now be used to secure the boot and the bonnet whilst travelling2.  Then we all had lunch.  John had brought his four-year-old son Lewis along with him.  Sue had found a turtle whilst I was away this morning and caught it on film.

By the time we reached the beach today it was very windy again, but we were able to set the brolly up as an igloo, so it had less chance of blowing away.  Despite the wind, the sea was very calm, although the surface was cold, with the wind.  It was easy to swim in today, much easier than any other day.  The wind eventually drove us home (via Ramatuelle, after yesterday’s traffic).  After tea we went for a drive and because of the traffic elsewhere, we tried Port Cogolin. Crap!

Wednesday 21st July

We had a straight forward sort of day today, arriving at the beach before 10:00am and leaving when it clouded over around 15:30pm. We then drove up to Ramatuelle for afternoon tea (well you know). We called at Le Cave Minute after this but didn’t get shown around or offered a taste.  We stopped then at Cave Bourrian and bought a red wine which turned out to be NOT very nice.  After tea, Ben did some videoing and we drove to Cavalaire, but couldn’t find anywhere to park.  http://vignoblesderamatuelle.com/.

Thursday 22nd July

We went to the Casino at 08:30am, hopefully for the last time this holiday.  We went for all of the things we need for the journey home tomorrow.  Filled up, checked oil and topped up and then we had breakfast in the café there before driving to the beach via Gassin and Ramatuelle.

Friday 23rd July – Departure

We were up at 07:00am and ready to leave by 08:45am. By 11:35am we were at Montelimar. We set off again at 12:25pm and stopped at a service station south of Mâcon but filled up at a service station just south of Beaune (15:50pm). Stopped again north of Dijon to phone Troyes.  We arrived in Troyes around 18:10pm but took another 30 minutes to find the Formula 1 hotel, which turned out to be miles and miles out of town.

So, we had driven all day.  08:45am to 18:30pm almost 10 hours – 512 miles.

A lot of time was taken up trying to find this place, but we’re here now. Right next door is a place called Fasthotel and they only charge 150ff.  Ours cost 130ff as it is a special offer, nationwide. The room is adequate. It had a clock, a telly and a sink (plus one double bed and a single bunk)3.  We went to the Fasthotel for dinner – they have two horseshoe shaped bars, which turn into dining tables at the suggestion of customers (??).  Two basic menus are offered. The service was good, quick and cheerful and the food was so-so – adequate at the price.

Saturday 24th July

I woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went for a walk.  We intend to go down for breakfast at 08:00am.  We were on our way by 08:40am.

We’re driving up the A26 now, from Troyes towards Chalon sur Marne4 and we’ve reached Sommesous (Sue must have been driving).  The fields at either side of the road are no longer the colourful patchwork of wheat, sunflowers, sweetcorn and beet but now JUST wheat (or Barley) as far as the eye can see, just like I imagine the prairies to look like.  Also, here and there, there are enormous silos, presumably for storing all this grain, which is being harvested as we pass.  Some fields have already been cut, but others are still ripening in the sun. Perhaps the grasses are barley, because as we pass the Epernay turn off, there’s a strong smell of malting.  We arrived in Calais at 12:40pm. The ferry was at 15:45pm

So, before boarding, we went to the Continent Hypermarket and bought 5 cases of beer and four bottles of wine5.  We also had a really crap lunch at the Flunch bar, re-packed the boot and drove back to the ship.  On board, I bought 1ltr Asbach and 1ltr Gin and a pack of lighters.

And, that’s it – I have no news of the journey through the UK or what happened upon our return with the car.  I do  know that Quarry Garage were brilliant and that they loaned us a car while they sorted the repairs and dealt with the insurance company.

Thank you for reading.

1 – He didn’t have to come at all, it was really kind of him to pop along and help us make the car safe. He’d been in England, at the garage when I called last week (after the crash), to seek advice on how to make the car safe to drive home. He was coming down to Stay with family on holiday in Saint Raphaël anyway and simply offered to pop along and help.

2 – It just meant that we had to take everything out of the boot each night on our way back, and leave the parcel shelf off, so it could be seen as empty.

3 – I don’t know what Formula 1s are like these days but back in the day they were VERY basic. The toilets and showers were communal and down the hallway. Mostly, I seem to remember that they were also automatic. Since those days (when we were financially disadvantaged), we have progressed up through Premiere Classe hotels and on to Campanile hotels, which offer more comfort and more than adequate dining. We’ve also stayed in traditional French hotels over the years but it seems the we did not on this holiday.

4 – Now Chalons en Champagne – ‘Formerly called Châlons-sur-Marne, the city was officially renamed in 1998.’

5 – Such things were very much cheaper in France at that time.

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