travelling – My even older Holiday Weblog

Tarn Gorge – Languedoc #3

As we moved off and away from the hotel we had stayed in last night, it was windy and slightly overcast. The road was wet from overnight rain, but the sun did eventually start to break through. We had elected for long trousers and trainers today – it was not hot.

Just around the corner, we found the hotel that the receptionist in St. Flour must have mentioned. The Hotel Garabit is a fairly gothic sort of structure, something you might expect the Count of Monte Cristo to be staying in. It overlooks a vast and truly delightful lake, the likes of which I hadn’t seen since I went to Oz. It reminded me of Berowra Waters, just north of Hornsby (just north of Sydney). The road we were on, which up until now, perhaps five minutes from the hotel, had been pretty mundane, wound its way down to the lakeside and along it for several miles. There were hotels here by the score – something to remember for the future¹.

The road wound through various types of kind-to-the-eye countryside until it reached the motorway again – just a couple of exits from where we had left it last night. We decided that, as our road was empty, and we were getting these visual treats, we would stay on the ‘B’ road (D road in France) for as long as we could. The map we were using suggested that there might be hold-ups on the motorway, close to a couple of towns en-route, so it would be good to miss those.

After meandering for about an hour, Betony became bored and we began to play a game that involved us getting points for things that we saw along the way. We made up the rules as we went along: 1 point for a poppy, 5 points for a sheep (until we realised that we were in sheep country), 2 points for a church, 2 points for a cyclist (but 10 points for a female cyclist – much rarer), 50 points for an elephant, and so on. Much later, we gave this game up, but as we approached St. Tropez the following week, we saw quite a few elephants!

We eventually (fairly soon) rounded bend and there in front of us was the most wonderful sight. We had come out above the Tarn Gorge. None of our maps had suggested that we were this close. Once again, this beautiful area reminded me of my time in Oz, especially, because of our elevated position, the Blue Mountains. The drop down the side of the gorge was quite frightening but when we reached the bottom it was like a fairy grotto for several miles along the riverside. All the villages were geared up for tourists and we found it hard to park. In fact, we decided to have lunch on an outcrop of rock overlooking the gorge from the bottom end. It rained slightly as we sat on our picnic rug, wrapped in waterproof coats.

The route we were now on looked like it might take us to our ultimate destination via the D roads. All we had to do was find the correct turning – with no clues². So, we turn back to the Autoroute and ended up dropping down another yet mountain into Millau³ – where we had missed the first lot of traffic jams.

We made good progress for several miles before becoming becalmed on the motorway, for no apparent reason.

From here onwards, the countryside that the road wound through was truly magnificent. Almost all the way down to Gignac the scenery was terrific and would certainly be a lovely journey at another, quieter time of year.

^{TBC – we arrive}

1 – How I can have written this and not mentioned the Garabit Viaduct, I cannot imagine. Much in this area has changed over the intervening years but not the viaduct. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garabit_viaduct

Garabit

2 – The sign-posting at this point was abysmal and although we could see that we had to pass through ‘Vieux de Montpellier’ we were not prepared to pay. Apparently (although I can find no reference to this form of words today – 2019), this is a national park and if you want to pass though, you are charged per occupant. There was no saying that the road actually went to the town we wanted either.

3 – Millau has changed beyond all recognition in the intervening years. See https://flic.kr/p/frdkzs

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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. Every 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.

The Road to Berlin – Bohemia #6

We got up early and set off for Berlin. Breakfasted and washed, we were off by 09:00am and called first at a small supermarket to buy food and drink for the day.

Day 5

It took us some time to get out of Prague and onto the open road north to Germany, but we made it. The countryside seems to be a little cluttered around here (with pylons, factories etc.) but I suppose that that is the result of years of neglect. The Czechs seem to be a hardworking people, so there’s hope for the future. We didn’t see many beggars here.

What we did see on our journey north, particularly as we neared Germany and drove up into the mountains were lines of ‘ladies’¹ plying their trade at the side of the road. Young and old alike, there were many groups of them waving at passing cars, trying to make them stop. I was almost tempted to stop and ask ‘how much?’ (purely for research reasons I must add), but they might never have let the car go again. They were certainly very colourful.

We also passed a very large brick-built structure which we thought at first must have been a military barracks, but as it was disused and as it seemed to go on and on, we began to wonder. Only when we got to the town centre and saw the tour buses and the enormous ‘Jewish Memorial’ did we realise that it was a concentration camp². The town was Terezin.

We drove up to the border at the mountaintop and had no rouble getting through. We bought lots of cheap vodka and a Magnum each before driving off into the beautiful ‘East’ German countryside.

I mentioned Magnum just now. Early in our tour, this became our official rate of exchange. When we could not tell how much things were (in Holland for example), we gauged it on the price of a Magnum. Stephen insisted that they were only 99p for three at the Mirfield Co-op, but that most vendors charged that amount for just one. So, the rate of exchange was 1 x Magnum = £1.00. Therefore, whatever the cost of a Magnum (or equivalent) abroad was directly convertible into English. Simple, see? The rates of this exchange from town to town and country to country varied enormously (as you can imagine), so thank goodness for international exchange rates, which we now believe are more reliable. (lol).

Having filled up in Germany, something we had sought to avoid as the fuel is much dearer, we set off towards Dresden. We had not been able to fill-up in Czech as the petrol station did not take visa and we didn’t have enough Zlotaks left. Dresden looks a beautiful city but the video camera had discharged itself and we were not able to take any shots as we passed. We definitely intended to make Berlin that day so we didn’t stop, preferring to get to Meissen, just up the road instead. We stopped at this old and famous (for porcelain) town for a late lunch. Because it was so hot, none of us wanted more than a cake from the shop and a cold drink. At the top of the town is a tower and a church. To get to these, you have to climb 200 steps (I don’t know who counted). The heat was almost unbearable by now and we were completely shagged when we got to the top. However, from up here, we could see for miles around. The red roofs of the town were all below us and it obvious that cheap loans are now available via ‘soli’³, in this ex-East German town for upkeep and repairs. They are obviously hoping to cash in on the tourist market and so they should, as the town is a pleasant place to visit. We did witness some ugliness though. As we walked back towards the car we passed along a street with Turkish or similarly owned businesses where the windows had been broken. This sort of thing is rife in Germany, where the Germans are afraid that cheaper Turks will take their jobs.

Our drive continued and we reached the autobahn. It must have been one of Hitler’s first and hadn’t been maintained since. In places the concrete carriageway was so uneven it was positively dangerous. In parts, one lane was 2”-3” higher than the next – tyre ripping stuff. It was good to finally reach Berlin. Although, for many miles you wouldn’t know that you were in one of the greatest capital cities of the world. We’d bought a map on the outskirts and headed towards Templehof Airport, which was roughly in the direction we wanted to go. Our aim was to find a hotel somewhere out of the centre but near a Metro station. We couldn’t have done this however, until we found out where we were on the map. This led to a frustrating hour trying to find out where that was exactly. We drove along a promising road signposted >>Centrum>> which was cobbled for about 12 miles. We saw no hotels.

We eventually found ourselves on the map and tried several promising looking areas but the whole time (perhaps another hour), we found only two. Hotels. One was £100 per night and the other looked a little shady. We then shot out of a road⁴ and found ourselves right next to the Brandenburger Tor and on Under Den Linden. This was fascinating, especially after the forty odd years that Berlin was split as it once was⁵.

Picture of Brelin wall with Brandenberg gate behind. People are stoo on the wall. — We popped out of the street at the opposite side of what we see here.

What we hadn’t realised until now, was the we were looking for hotels in what had been East Berlin, where of course, commerce had been subdued for the forty years following the war and had little need for the type of hotel we were looking for. By now it was late and we were tired and fed-up. I tried to phone a hotel out of town, but my money wouldn’t stay in the and I got nowhere.

We eventually found a hotel right opposite the Berlin Opera House, The Hotel An Der Opera, and although it was more expensive that we’d hoped, it was the only hotel we had seen – so we took it. On reflection, the price wasn’t that bad, bearing in mind what we had paid in Czech. The estimated conversion of the bill from deutschmarks was £204.10 for two nights (I paid by Visa and didn’t note the exact amount later). That’s three people B & B. Add the Czech bill of approximately £61.65 and divide by five night (although one was really just a morning lol) and it’s down to around £17.70 per person per night, which is roughly the cost of a room in France. So, seven nights at a rough conversion rate (not Magnum rate) cost us about £14.50 each per night, which isn’t that bad at all. The meals however, did cost a good bit more.

1 – The term used at that time was ‘mucky women’ lol.

2 – Looking at Google maps, it seems that the road to Germany had been diverted since our visit. We certainly drove around and through the town. It was eerie.

3 – Following the fall of the Berlin Wall the German government introduced a “solidarity surcharge,”, which is, even now apparently, still imposed. https://www.dw.com/en/taxpayers-demand-end-to-soli-tax-to-boost-eastern-german-economy/a-41315805

4 – That must have been Wilhelmstrasse.

5 – For all of our lives, none of us three had ever known anything other than a divided Berlin. To be so close to this poignant reminder of the wall that figuratively divided Europe, which was there until finally demolished just a few years before our arrival, was thought provoking.

Picture Credit:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Wall#/media/File:West_and_East_Germans_at_the_Brandenburg_Gate_in_1989.jpg

Prague at last – Bohemia #3

Day 3 – (Day 2 part c)

… and so, we said stuff it to Pilzen and headed straight through to Prague, where it was hoped we could get a hotel first thing in the morning, and sleep then …

By the time we arrived in Prague, it was about 03:30am/04:00am and we were done in. Stephen had been driving this leg and I took over as we reached the city centre. I was driving around Prague, that Wednesday morning, with no other traffic visible, no trouble with pedestrians launching themselves into the road and none of the very bust trams attacking me at any time. I drove around and around, getting a feel for the place but finding no hotels. We decided to drive back up the way we came in as we had seen a lot of roadside hotel booking agents back there. We thought we could sleep in one of their car parks and wait there until they opened in the morning.

But I got lost. I couldn’t find the road we had come in on.

We were eventually given a police escort back to the Pilzen road, after being stopped from trying to drive along some tram lines, which I hadn’t realised were for trams only. They had mostly been shared with general traffic. Whoops. The police men in the police car had obviously seen me looking either lost, stupid or drunk and decided to pull me over. Ben, our most fluent German speaker and I went to meet the policemen, we even tried French, but they only spoke Czech. We managed to convey the fact that we were lost and were trying to find the Pilzen road. I think that he tried to tell us, but saw only blank looks – so he motioned us to follow him in the car. Which we did. On the way, we passed a beautiful church, which we never found again, despite trying.

We tried a hotel up the road, that looked expensive and wondered if maybe this too would be closed up for the night. But we looked through the window and saw a receptionist playing pool. We attracted his attention and found us a room for three people at what turned out to be a very reasonable £62.00 for three nights. Bargain. It was basic, but reasonably comfortable and anyway, who at that time of night (it was already light by now) could be choosy? The room had three bench-type beds with reasonably comfortable mattresses and ‘too warm’ quilts. It was en-suite and breakfast was included. We missed the first day’s breakfast but the next two day’s fayre was interesting (which I will come to in the next post – the real day 3).

Through the night – Bohemia #2

Day 2 – part b

… We were looking forward to getting into Czech itself and finding a small hotel on the road, or at worst in Pilzen, and having an evening meal. By now it was about 20:00pm continued …

The traffic that had stopped in front of us was obviously waiting for the border crossing somewhere up ahead. This was the first for us today as all the other borders have now come down, we didn’t have to stop at all¹. We edged forward, on and off for about an hour and then stopped completely for another two hours. That was THREE HOURS in total before we saw the border post, which by now was the only light in the darkened night sky. At 20:00pm the prospect of getting a hotel was reasonable, even (we thought) in a relatively backward (tas it was then) country like the Czech Republic. But, as it approached midnight that prospect was bleak. When we got through the German side of the border, we drove for about half a mile towards the Czech side and then stopped just after their border post to get some money changed. We also had to buy a permit to drive on their roads – the whole place looked dingy, dismal and unwelcoming in the dark – and it was still wet and drizzly.

Nevertheless, the road was now clear on our side, but long lines of trucks bordered the oncoming lanes. We drove for about 3-4 miles before coming to a standstill once more – in the pitch-blackness of Czech woodlands. The problem was that because of the trucks taking up space at the other side of the road, the oncoming traffic couldn’t overtake (because of the stream of stream of traffic we Screenshot 2019-06-21 at 16.02.55 were in, heading IN to Czech). Eventually, the Frenchman in front of us took his torch and walking stick and sorted the whole thing out. We had been here about an hour. The lorries eventually petered out after about six more miles. But, even then, we still passed other long lines of wagons parked up and down the roadside – even as far as Pilzen.

The first shop we saw in Czech was a large roadside shack selling GARDEN GNOMES and cheap vodka. And, I mean lots of garishly coloured gnomes. Even those shops that were closed had gnomes outside; all chained up and placed in cages! There were lots of ‘Non-Stop’ cafes and bars, we even stopped at a couple to try for rooms, but there were none to be had. The frightening thing though, was that wherever we saw a ‘Non-Stop’ sign, we also saw ‘Sexy Girl’ or ‘Fun Palace’ signs as well. It seems that one of the major Czech industries is to sell sex, gnomes and cheap vodka to the Germans, who apparently (a guy in Prague told us this later) come over in their droves for one or more (in whatever combination?).

Petrol was now our major concern and we debated whether or not to go on until morning, when there was more chance of a petrol station being open (seeing one at all would be a change!). We were tired and very low on juice, perhaps enough to reach Pilzen if we could keep moving but experience showed that this might not be possible. Just as we thought that we might have to pull over and sleep in the car, we came across a petrol station with a couple of hotels alongside. I filled up the tank while Stephen and Ben checked out the hotels. They were both full but so at least, was the tank – so we said stuff it to Pilzen and headed straight through to Prague, where it was hoped we could get a hotel first thing in the morning, and sleep then.

Day 2 continues into day 3 in the next post.

1 – These were the early days of Schengen – https://www.acs-ami.com/en/travel-articles/schengen-agreement/ .