braysabroad

Rodalquilar to St. Jose

It’s been long day! Finally after 8 hours of mountain climbing, and walking, we arrived in St. Jose and had our first disagreement. Ken recorded 12.9 miles against Kim’s meagre 11.5 miles while Dave and Anne were past the point of caring unless another hill was involved…… in that case they would have a very strong opinion..

This morning, we said goodbye to Eckhard our German host, but first we had to listen to another lecture. This time it was about which restaurants to avoid and why his boutique hotel was the best in Spain, so far we haven’t seen any other Nissen hut based accommodation so he may be right and he does have a fantastic garden.

Approaching the first road, we were passed by a peloton of Movistar team cyclists practising team tactics which they can do easily down here. Similar to Portugal and Madeira the lovely roads built with EU money, most of which John is convinced he donated personally, are completely devoid of traffic. They whooshed past us as we struggled up the first hill of the day to the viewpoint at Mirador de la Amatista. On a clear day, views along the coast must be spectacular. We checked route instructions and, at 2.7 km, we were 20 minutes ahead of schedule – go us!

Most of the landscape is low growing and scrubby but a short detour down to Cala los Toros through a grove of palms created a very different atmosphere. In this terrain, 3 trees are a grove – we are in the only official desert in Europe.

Next stop was La Isleta del Moro, a little fishing town with a cafe. Our walking location is quite remote and this is the only cafe mentioned in all seven walk options. According to our notes, we were still ahead of schedule and treated ourselves to a cuppa. 5k down only another 12 to go!

An hour later we’d rounded the bay and stopped for lunch at Los Escullos beach, in the shadow of the ruined fort of Castillo de San Felipe. Already tired and not yet halfway, with our highest climbs still to come, we had a great view across the bay to La Isleta. The white fossilised dunes lining the beach are oolite – calcium carbonate from animal bones worn down and encrusted with sand.

Leaving the beach we joined the ‘Loma Pelada’ route along the coast taking us all the way to San Jose. We’d walked 12 km in 4.5 hours and were flagging just as the terrain became hilly with lots of loose stones under foot. It was very hard work and we seemed to be taking it in turns to slip and fall. We will spare you the photos of grazed knees but here’s a taster of the terrain.

San Jose tantalisingly came into view but there was another 3km descent on nasty loose stones before we came to a beautiful tarmac road into town.

We arrived at the hotel and collapsed, rather too tired to appreciate the views from our terrace.

Eckhard had told us sternly not to eat in the hotel. In low season there’s not much choice so that’s where we are! Kim was pleased that Dave offered to share Creamy Lobster Rice with her, she’s just not sure it was lobster

A circular walk from Rodalquilar via Cortijo del Fraile

The day started with an al fresco breakfast on the terrace. Our host, Eckhard, pointed out that we wouldn’t be able to do this at home and thought we might like it. It was a little chilly, but he was correct. Today’s walk took us inland through mining and farming country across 14.5 km of dirt tracks and rocky paths. We started with an early detour into Rodalquilar’s Botanic Garden. It is presented as an environmental management centre for the Cabo de Gata – Nijar Natural Park and divides plots into distinct plant groupings and environments. Apart from Palms and grasses not much is happening this time of year so here’s a photo from the hotel garden which is interestingly planted.

Walking out of town we passed an old abandoned gold mine. The area has a long history of mining starting with lead and silver. Gold was discovered in the late 19th century and was mined until 1966 when it became too costly and environmentally destructive. As a result the town population dropped dramatically from 1400 to about 200.

We walked through the valley, following a dry riverbed, before heading up along a pass with glorious views back down to the coast.

We turned a corner and the view changed completely. Suddenly we had views across lush agricultural fields to the Sierra Nevada in the distance.

The route for sensible people was fairly flat, following another dry riverbed and taking us into farming country and the fields we’d seen from the top. Rows of lettuce, fennel, cauliflower and broccoli greeted us and this was the prettiest.

At this point, and after a long climb, we became a little confused. Our holiday is categorised ‘easy walking’ but the route was taking us up yet another steep climb. There was dissent in the ranks so John, heroically, offered to check it out. He scrambled up the mountainside and, by the time the rest of us had read the instructions properly and realised we didn’t need to be up on the ridge, he decided it was too dangerous to scramble back down. We didn’t see him again!

The highlight of the walk was the ruin at Cortijo del Fraile. Not only was this farmstead the inspiration for Garcia Lorca’s ‘Blood Wedding’ but it has featured in many Westerns including The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and a Few Dollars More.

The long walk back took us past more abandoned mines and, if you look carefully, you can see the evidence of mine shafts in the cliff face.

The next stop, accessed through a short tunnel, was the abandoned village of El poblado minero de San Diego before finally arriving back at the top end of Rodalquilar, overlooking the mining buildings we’d seen earlier.

Back in town we met up with John in Crisol’s bar, for a well earned drink in the late afternoon sunshine. Today’s walk was a tough but enjoyable 9 miles, tomorrow’s is longer and steeper……….ouch

Walking in Andalucia

We are walking in the Andalucian reserve of Cabo de Gato park with friends. The trip has been meticulously planned and started, last night, at Gatwick. Today’s flight was an early one and we didn’t trust Thameslink trains or the M25 to get us there on time.

Up before 5, our luggage checked by 5:15 and on the plane by 7. Everything was running smoothly until the pilot announced our take off slot had been delayed by a French Air Traffic Control strike! That gave fellow passengers the opportunity to mess up the schedule even further. The first was an elderly gentleman who felt faint. A paramedic arrived and it was agreed he needed to leave the flight. While we waited for an ambulance, another passenger was discovered to be so drunk he couldn’t be woken! Quite how it’s possible to get that drunk that early is beyond us!

Passengers were removed, safety checks carried out and we were off…. or not as it turned out. We taxied back to the terminal -the luggage door was showing a fault. Finally, 4 hours later than scheduled, we left the ground accompanied by applause and cheers from fellow passengers.

We flew South West over Normandy and the Pyrenees and as Almeria approached we were greeted by the Greenhouse Revolution. It is the largest number of Greenhouses in the world, in reality thousands of plastic greenhouses, which grow most of the fruit and vegetables eaten in the UK. It’s a huge contributor to the local economy but with significant environmental costs.

Our approach to Almeria airport was accompanied by more cheers and the Captain announced how emotional he was at the thought of us leaving. We had been together for such a long time.

We headed into the Almeria Miracle which is a tiny corner of Almeria preserved from development by Francisca Diaz Torres who refused to sell her family estate to commercial pressures. It became the Cabo de Gata National Park where we will be walking for the next few days.

Our hotel is unusual to say the least, located five minutes outside Rodalquilar, with glorious views.

And the ‘rooms’ are quirky, set inside what look like Nissen huts.

We wandered into town and found an open bar. Run by a motorcycle enthusiast, the beer was good and music even better

Finally, after a very long day, we dined out at a local restaurant where we sampled grilled artichokes, beef cheeks and rosemary smoked cheese.

Our Silver Wedding adventure

Contrary to expectations we made it to 25 years and it warranted another micro-adventure – Brian Augers Oblivion Express featuring Alex Ligertwood in Bensheim.

‘Who’ and ‘where?’ you might be thinking….we like to think you’re vaguely curious.

The easy part is Bensheim, a small German town about 1 hour south of Frankfurt or 6 hours drive from Dunkirk. Bensheim lies in the Bergstrasse mountain region on the Rhine rift and forms part of the German Riviera because of its mild climate and early Spring.

Brain Auger, a british keyboard player, best known for supporting Julie Driscoll of Wheels on Fire fame. Alex Ligertwood was lead vocalist with Santana for many years and these days they perform some rather cool Jazz.

Tickets, and a hotel, were booked months ago in case there was a rush and we missed out. Last week, we asked Google about our trip, the distance was far too much to cover in a day so we booked a stop over in Maastricht.

Our last minute booking in Maastricht was a room in the tower of the 18th Century Kasteel De Hoogenwerth, overlooking the river Maas. Unlike Kim’s usual choices, which can be rather dubious, it was rather special.

Heavy rain had kept us company since leaving home at 04:30 but it eased enough for a walk into Maastricht to see the famous square where Andre Rieu hosts his annual concert.

Far more interesting was the visit to Maastricht’s bookshop, described as the most beautiful in the world by The Guardian. We’d have to agree and it was a shame we didn’t have long enough to do it justice but dinner was calling.

We ate in ‘Sofa’, a small restaurant next to the hotel. There are no pictures of food, we ate too quickly but Maastricht, the hotel and the restaurant are on our list for a return visit.

On Thursday, rather than a simple drive to Bensheim, a detour into Luxembourg for Luxembourgieose cremant was needed. Apparently, France and Luxembourg are the only two countries in the world that can make fizzy wine and call it cremant.

We stopped at Bernard Massard, overlooking the banks of the Mosel and for elevenses settled down to taste five fizzy wines and a Pinot Noir. The environment was smart, wines were scored according to taste and heroically, we managed to find room for a case in the car.

Rain continued to keep us company and it was a relief to arrive in Bensheim. Our accommodation went down a couple of notches.

The old town was quaint and cobbled. According to Wikipedia, it’s currently economically strong and that’s reflected in a broad range of shops and a town that’s well maintained. Before the war, it became the centre for the regional Nazi Party and suffered greatly as a consequence. Wandering round, its difficult to imagine the massacre of local Jews and Gestapo killings in the surrounding woodland.

The main event, the concert, was held in Musiktheatre Rex, a converted warehouse with a capacity of about 800. As is our way we arrived too late for a table and spent the evening propping up the bar, drinking beer. John was particularly keen to see Alex Ligertwood who was unable to appear as a result of a recent hernia operation, it appears that even singing can be hazardous. Kim was hoping to hear something she might recognise….. it was a long way to go and not be able to sing along!

We left Bensheim before 10 with a six hour journey ahead of us in the Beetle with dodgy windscreen wipers. It has poured with rain for 90% of our time away and the car has made its views known. As to the Bromptons? They’ve not left the back seat of the car.

Heading home

Glorious sunshine and a light breeze, an ideal day for yesterday’s plans!

Hotel Wilhelmina vied for ‘Best Hotel of the Holiday’ together with Hostellerie Schuddebeurs, both would be high up our list for another visit.

We filled up on probably the best breakfast of the holiday, although they have all been good, had another conversation about Brexit with perplexed Europeans, and wandered up to the beach for a final look. Domburg prides itself as having the cleanest beach in Holland

We discovered the monument to the paratroopers from UK, Belgium and Norway who died trying to liberate Holland. The plaque above the Belgian memorial reads ‘United We Conquer’, a message that loses none of its power with the passage of time.

An old bathhouse dominates the seafront, following its restoration in 2007 it houses a well regarded restaurant and apartments with spectacular views.

Would Kim consider another cycling holiday? Probably, although she’s still rather alarmed by John’s desire to cycle St Malo to Nice and the book to this effect at home may mysteriously disappear and the tortoises blamed.

As to this trip, Holland is a joy to cycle and we’d come back with enough confidence to plan our own route and travel light enough to carry our luggage, rather than send it by taxi, (Kim can’t believe she’s just written that!) Dutch Bike Tours were ok but the quality of hotels and roadmaps weren’t a patch on those from Inntravel who organised our Portuguese walking trip.

Finally, after a 2.5 hour drive, John was almost in petrol head heaven at Dunkirk, as half the cars on board are heading for the Goodwood Revival Meeting.

Finally, finally JustGo 2020 is booked. 15 nights in a motorhome, John is hiding his excitement well.

A day at the seaside

We’d booked an extra day at Domburg and had a number of plans. We could relax on the beach or a 35km cycle ride taking in Middelburg, Zoutelande and Westkapelle. The route along the North Sea looked glorious. Now we’re professionals hilly, windy dunes pose no problems for us!

We left Burgh-Haamstede with our options open and had a sunny 40 minute drive to our hotel. It was too cold for the beach so the Bromptons were unfolded and we were off…….

2 km down the road, cycling into a headwind, the rain started and we were soon soaked. We managed another couple hundred metres before stopping for a cuppa in the vain hope that weather conditions would improve.

This wasn’t as easy as it sounds. We had been told to look out for large wooden steps from the road, which is below sea level. These go up and across the dunes and lead to little beach clubs. We (mainly John) carried the bikes 72 steps up one side, 52 down the other.

Our plan backfired as the weather deteriorated further, we tried to carry on cycling then common sense kicked in. Sometimes you just have to give up, return to your hotel and drive the route. Our bikes were in the back of the car so, technically, we were still cycling?

We managed to park in Middelburg, not enough time to visit the museum but sufficient to have a little potter round the cobbled streets.

We ventured out for dinner and in true seaside fashion……we had pizza. John’s not keen on fish and won’t touch shell fish so the lure of a fresh catch is lost on him.

Domburg was lovely to wander round at dusk.

Tomorrow we head to Dunkirk then home. It feels like we’ve been away longer than a week.

And the sun came out

Our day started with a game of hunt the Bromptons. They’d been stowed in the hotel’s bike store last night and were the only bikes in there. At 9am this morning they were surrounded by dozens of big, hefty Dutch bikes.

A couple of them had route numbers written on tape around the handle bars. They wouldn’t be stopping at every junction to check if they were heading the right way. A useful tip for our next trip.

We headed out through wooded Shuddebeurs, across more dikes and into Zierikzee, a small medieval town. The Dutch certainly know how to make things last and keep them looking good.

Our first big challenge was 9km over Zeelandbrug Bridge, another relentless pedal into a headwind. The Dutch are good at that too..

It was difficult – at one point we were even overtaken by a man on a mobility scooter. It was lovely to stop for a breather and take in the view across the water.

Our route took us into Colijnsplaat and along the waterside through the Oosterschelde National Park until we reached the Oosterscheldekering bridge. We stopped briefly to refuel with a local speciality of Kibbeling. It sounded like something you’d feed cats but was little pieces of fresh fried fish. Kim was impressed, John wasn’t.

We’d been dreading cycling over the bridge. So far, they’ve all been awful. This one was a dream, top gear all the way and the cycle route managed to be gently downhill while the road went up. How does that work?

We’ve covered over 125 miles in four days and it was a relief to reach the hotel back in Burgh-Haamstede.

Tomorrow, John has suggested we visit a market garden site in Arnhem where he has booked us on a history tour. This could be difficult, our legs have forgotten how to walk and we’ve struggled up one flight of stairs to our hotel room.

Bum butter, a final review. 8/10! Bottoms are sore so extra was slathered on this morning. It saw us through the day and does everything it claims but still doesn’t pedal the bikes.

Zeeland here we come..

Without noticing, we left Zeeland on Friday and, according to our instructions, we are going back today.

Cycling out of Willemstad in the morning sunshine was rather pleasant. The Met Office assured us of good weather and now over half way through our journey.

Having finally accepted that people with children on the front and shopping on the back of their bicycles will frequently overtake us, today it was the turn of Lycra clad road cyclists. It is a little disheartening to be the slowest on the road…. other than the slugs that are numerous after the wet weather.

Our first challenge was the climb back over Volkerakdam, still as steep but so much nicer in the dry on a quiet Sunday morning. We stopped and watched the locks in action and were tempted to stay longer but we’d only covered 6 of our 50 km route.

A punishing 7.5 km straight, flat section followed mainly alongside the N59 as it hugged the banks of Haringvliet. There are no photos of the road disappearing into the distance because that involved stopping. Kim was not prepared to stop under any circumstances. Her challenge was to get to the end without sobbing, it was that exhausting.

Our route continued along the top of dikes and through pretty villages.

After a couple of hours, and almost at our halfway point, we stopped at the first cafe we found in Oude-Tonge. The sun was shining and we basked over a cuppa.

It didn’t last, as we left town the rain started and the wind became stronger. Fortunately, the weather seemed a bit halfhearted after yesterday and we were cold and uncomfortable rather than soaked through.

We cycled along the Grevelingendam, luckily on the land side and sheltered from the wind. The sun had reappeared so we stopped for lunch at a waterside restaurant overlooking the Grevelingen.

Our timing was definitely out today, as we left the restaurant, the rain started again.

More cycling along dikes followed and it really highlighted how flat the area is.

We arrived at our hotel just after 3. It’s been a long day with a couple of unplanned detours. Bottoms are sore and legs weary…..but the hotel is the nicest so far

Our room is quiet and spacious, and there is a pretty little garden with bantams riffling through the flowerbeds. At dinner we were given the option of being told what we were having or it being a ‘surprise’. You guessed right we were indeed cowards. What followed was beautifully presented, tasty and hadn’t come out of the lobster tank we’d passed on the way in.

And it rained…

We left Brielle early to stay ahead of the weather. Heavy rain was forecast and we needed to get as far as possible before it started. It had rained heavily throughout the night and we were relieved to set off in the dry.

Today’s route took us inland, across the islands of Voorne Putten and Hieksche Waard before finishing on the mainland at the fortified town of Willemstad. The first few kilometres set the tone, it’s been a day with very little respite from pedalling and that’s without the relentless rain. We’d managed about 20 of our 50 kilometres before the heavens opened and stayed that way.

Cycling from Zuidland to Nieuw-Beijerland we came across a queue of cars, an unusual sight in Zeeland. Then we noticed a ferry arrive as we cycled past, mystery solved. It headed back across the water just as we found the way-mark telling us we should be on board. It was only a 10 minute wait but, in the downpour, it was disproportionately long, cold and unpleasant.

We happily sheltered on the ferry, enjoying a brief respite from the rain , and seriously considered remaining on it all day. Before you critique the quality photo, we were that blurry in real life. Too much rain does that to you!

Yesterday, we didn’t refuel very well while cycling, preferring instead to push on and get the journey completed. Today, we were determined to do better and stop for lunch. However we found no cafes en route, eventually with only 15 km to go we saw a very nice department store, Konijnendijk, possibly the Dutch equivalent of John Lewis.

Inside the Grand Cafe Ritz was warm and dry which only served to highlight how cold and wet we were. The Dutch lady next to us recommended the Brie and Walnut salad and it went down a treat.

The last 10 kilometres were difficult. The rain came down harder, we cycled into a head wind and had the longest climb of the day over the Volkerak Dam. The route ran alongside the N29 motorway and it wasn’t pleasant. There was just a concrete barrier separating us from oncoming traffic. John stopped to take pictures of the series of locks built to keep the main shipping route between Rotterdam and Antwerp open when the dam was built. Kim kept plodding on…

We arrived at Willemdam at 2pm, dripped and squelched into the hotel where, thankfully, our room was ready.

Further exploration uncovered a Chandlers where we found the ideal outfit if it continues to rain tomorrow. No, we’re are not being over dramatic.

Breaking news…. Holland is not flat

We fuelled up with plenty of bacon, eggs, ham and cheese and started our adventure just after 9.

Within 10 minutes of leaving the hotel, we faced our first mountain of the day and pushed the bikes up it. Ok, it may have only been 20m high but it was blooming steep and took us both by surprise.

As we puffed over the top we had glorious views of the sea and long sandy beaches.

We cycled along the coast of Schouwen-Duiveland for 21km crossing the Brouwer and Haringvliet Dams. These form part of the Delta Works, 13 dams along the Zeeland coast, designed to protect adjacent low lying land from flooding. Parking on an incline looked fun.

The route has been easy to follow, as long as we keep an eye open for way marks which are fairly prominent. We have been map reading by numbers.

We stopped at a little farm store and tea house for a mid morning snack and worked out we were over halfway along our route. Kim had been told by numerous friends that 30 miles on a bike isn’t far. She’s just starting to believe it

A short while later, it all went wrong. We missed a turning and added a few more kilometres to our route. Dutch cycle routes are excellent. At every intersection there is a map and, having missed #17, we were able to re-route via various other paths. By then we were rather tired and found ourselves on the right road but going the wrong way finally arriving at our destination in the walled city of Brielle on the island of Voorne-Putten at 3pm.

We rode around the cobbled streets of Brielle before collapsing in the hotel for the rest of the afternoon. The weather is changing and it’s raining heavily. Tomorrow could be interesting riding……

Vlissingen

We were up at 4am in order to catch an earlier ferry and make good use of our pre-cycling day. We gained a couple of hours and headed for Vlissingen which had been recommended by Diane, Kim’s mum.

We hadn’t bargained on a 2.5 hour journey from Dunkirk, so were tired and hungry and stopped at the first cafe we saw. It served the University of Applied Sciences Campus and looked very spartan

We ordered a cheese sandwich and it was absolutely amazing. We ate too quickly to take photos but it was a foot long baguette, stuffed full of cheese, egg and salad. Thank goodness we’d decided to share.

Fortified, we headed into Vlissingen where, in true Dutch style, it cost a fortune to park the Beetle for a couple of hours. We walked through the town past the cheese and spice shops to watch the container ships as they passed along Flushing Roads.

A walk along the front took us past the Tidal Clock on the Dutch Pilots Organisation. This clock cleverly indicates the flow of tides at Flushing roads, the channel used to access the port at Antwerp. There is an information board with a detailed description, in English, of how the clock works. Frowning, we read it several times and were none the wiser.

The drive to our hotel at Burgh Haamstede took us over delta works dams which we’ll be cycling across when we return here on Monday. Hmm, they are long and very blustery. The weather’s not looking great either!

Our hotel is nestled amongst the dunes, at the end of a gliding runway. It’s very dated but the room is huge and the car park full of SUV’s with equally large cycle racks

Cycling in Zeeland

The day has come for Kim has to deliver on her promise to join John on a cycling micro-adventure. A number of destinations were discounted as either too hilly or too far until the lovely, flat Netherlands were decided on.

The next four days will be spent touring the dunes and delta works of Zeeland.

Each day we will cycle 30-40 miles on the Bromptons with our luggage travelling comfortably, between hotels, in a taxi. There is something deeply wrong with this sentence but we’re not quite sure what.

We are prepared for everything except really wet weather and are studiously avoiding the weather forecast.

There was a poor attempt to train for this but neither of us have been on a bike in 10 days. However, Kim has a new padded saddle and we both have proper cycle shorts. It does feel much like wearing a nappy but if it prevents sores, who cares?

If we survive the cycling, we are off to Arnhem which is holding a series of events to commemorate the 75th Anniversary of Operation Market Garden.

Finally, this has been recommended and we have high hopes of it…..

Le tour de Vendée

Our final day had nothing specific planned other than getting to a Chambre d’Hote 40 minutes outside St Malo.

We started with a visit to the market in Lucon at 8am. It was early for us but not the French it seems. It was surprisingly busy.

It’s a shame we’re not here longer and self catering, the fish, meat and vegetables all looked amazing.

Having said that, we’ve not seen roti de cheval before

Luçon was transformed this morning – cars and people everywhere and a fantastic haberdashery stall. It would be nice to know if it’s every Saturday or just because it’s a holiday weekend.

We said goodbye to Madame and headed out to Fontenay le Comte, a medieval town 20 minutes inland. Compared to Luçon, it’s huge with a very long and straight main road and of course, as it’s France, a river and more market stalls.

We parked by a cycle shop owned by a Tour de France rider and John was in like a shot. He met a couple of English cyclists who’d cycled in from Vouvant. They were very impressed Kim had cycled the bridge on a Brompton – that was the highlight of her day. John was more impressed with how good electric bikes are getting.

Fontenay was very lively but we only had to walk a couple of streets back and it became calm and quiet.

We took a detour back to Vouvant to see if there was more going on than we first thought. It was so busy, we couldn’t park and may head back this way on our next trip to France!

Next it was onto the pretty town of Mervent with its fabulous views over the river Vendée, but unfortunately not much else going on.

Although their idea of a Triathlon was rather appealing

It was a long drive up to Dol de Bretagne for our last stop. We are in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with a hostess that doesn’t speak a word of English, unless you count ‘Expedia?’

We didn’t book through Expedia but we have the room key so there’s no getting rid of us tonight!

Despite the language barrier it was made very clear that we must remove our shoes before entering. We think we’ve arranged breakfast for 8am tomorrow but only time will tell how well that discussion went and if we are permitted to wear our shoes.

We’re staying 3km outside Dol de Bretagne and ventured out to explore. The town has some exceptional medieval houses and feels like a film set. It’s a shame about all the cars lining the high street.

Apparently there are fireworks tonight for the annual Bastille day celebrations, they don’t start until 11pm so there will be no chance of us seeing them.

Some entertainment has been arranged for our 9 hour ferry journey home. Can England beat New Zealand in the cricket, or should we compare notes with fellow cyclists while watching the Tour de France, then again it could be the Wimbledon final or the British Grand Prix at Silverstone?

à bientôt

Geraint Thomas isn’t the only British cyclist in France!

John was determined to cycle the Ile de Re, across the bridge from La Rochelle, so that’s what we did…..despite grey, drizzly weather.

Not thrilled at the prospect, Kim worked out that a shuttle bus could get her back across the bridge if she was truly pathetic.

We set off, with John in the lead as you’d expect, Kim huffing and puffing behind, counting every lamppost she successfully cycled past. In case you’re interested, there are 65 lampposts from the start of the bridge until it levels out and 45 going downhill. Anyway, she made it without stopping and was rather proud of herself.

The villages of the Ile de Re are connected by a series of well marked cycle paths. Because of the weather, we didn’t go far, only from Rivedoux Plage to La Flotte, but we managed a few photo opportunities

Bromptons turned native with addition of a baguette.

Our route back took us past the ruined Abbeye Notre Dame de Re dite des Chateliers.

Then the bridge came back into sight. We hadn’t cycled far, only about 15 miles, so Kim didn’t even look at the shuttle bus, she was off.

There may only be 45 lampposts going back but it’s a lot steeper and, at one point, Kim thought her head would explode. She made it without a single foot touching the ground and almost caught a couple of cyclists ahead of her!

We decided Ruffec needed a revisit to view a property we’d dismissed as a money pit. It had character and potential so a viewing was arranged for tomorrow……..more about that later.

Back at Luçon, Kim visited the Jardins Dumaine, laid out in the late 18th century behind the Hotel de Ville. It’s not that large but a real oasis and well maintained, the gravel is raked daily and there was not a weed to be seen.

Next a tour around the main sights where we discovered that Luçon was a harbour town in the early 20th century and left stranded when the sea receded. It has a history of liquor making and still holds a popular market twice a week.

The evening was spent poring over house details, Ruffec was a three hour detour on our way home so it needed to be worthwhile.

We discovered the house only had windows at the front, no central heating, a dark dismal hallway and bathrooms which, despite so called ‘renovation’, are out of the 1970s. Viewing was cancelled!

House hunting in Ruffec

We have strict criteria for property searches in France. It must be a house in a town, no mote than 4 hours from Ouistreham or St Malo, no further than an hour from the coast, with bakeries, cafes and restaurants within walking distance. A garage or off road parking are a must too. How hard could it be?

Hours of internet searching had identified Ruffec, in the Charente, as a possibility for us. A question about the area on a Facebook group had offered up an opportunity for a viewing.

The approach to the house was gorgeous, along Le Lien river, past a little cinema and over a bridge by a mill. It was picture perfect (but we forgot to take one!).

The house was rather lovely

But…. Ruffec is over two hours to the coast and 4 hours 7 minutes to Ouistreham, something has gone seriously wrong with Google searches. In the spirt of scientific research we decided, instead of visiting Oradour-sur-Glane, we would house hunt in Ruffec.

We headed for the only Estate Agent open at lunch time and came away with details of 5 properties. A drive by dismisses three but 2 warranted leaving the car to investigate.

The first was a gorgeous townhouse on an unusual plot. It was empty to we trampled through overgrown grass to investigate. Ten years ago, we’d have taken it on but it’s not for us.

The next had us driving by several times before John dropped Kim off to walk past. After 15 minutes of suspicious behaviour we decided the garden was too big and we ought to move on before gendarmes were called.

It’s been an interesting and surprisingly challenging day. Kim loves being 30 minutes from the coast but a Ruffec has a lot to offer with swimming and water sports 5 minutes up the road on the Charente river.

We consoled ourselves with dinner at …….. The restaurant had been recommended by our hostess and it was delicious.

We were the last customers and you could tell we’d outstayed our welcome when lights were turned off at 9:45!

La Rochelle? Meh!

We have two days to update and have been busy. This will go on a bit, probably best to get yourselves a cuppa before settling down.

To start with, our breakfast is served in very elegant surroundings. We take great care not to drop crumbs or drip coffee on pristine tablecloths or mats.

Yesterday was spent in St Jean D’Angely, almost 2 hours from our base in Luçon. Most of our journey was spent stuck behind tractors or big, agricultural lorries. The fields full of glorious sunflowers helped to overcome the frustration.

Our first house viewing was in the small village of Landes, just outside St Jean, where the Old Post Office is for sale. We loved the outside space, the house was ok but the village was too quiet and sleepy for us.

Nest stop was St Jean where we viewed three very different properties.

A recently restored townhouse, 5 minutes walk from the centre of town was dismissed through lack of parking.

The second townhouse had huge potential…….to be a bottomless money pit. Kim had to be restrained from making an offer based on the Kiwi, Apricot and Fig in the back garden. John wasn’t even tempted by the 70m2 garage.

Then the agent offered to show us an apartment she owns right in the historic centre of town. Hmm, this one had too many pitfalls to mention here but we’ll happily bore you with the story on our return.

On to today. We’re only 30 minutes from the coast at La Faute Sur Mer and, in 30 degrees, we decided to cycle from there to Tranche Sur Mer.

The Bromptons truly enjoyed their day out.

John is keen to cycle from La Rochelle across to Ile de Re before we leave (Kim hopes you’ve noted that John is keen) and we took the opportunity to find out where we needed to park.

We managed to find ourselves in the centre of La Rochelle, parked and had a wander. Now, you may remember that we did Venice in a couple of hours, La Rochelle was lucky to get an hour and most of that was spent in a coffee shop where we were given a gizmo to tell us when our food was ready. We were enthralled- it had been a long hot day and we were slightly delirious.

We ventured out. It was still hot and there was lots of pushing and shoving.

We’re sure it has a lot to offer, just not for us.

Our final stop was in the car park by the bridge to,the Ile de Re before heading back to peace and quiet in Luçon. Kim would like to point out that it looks steeper in real life!

A short break in France

We’re touring in France and not doing the blog….. other than it appears to be ingrained in us. We miss our old apartment in Normandy (it was always for too grand to be a flat) and John fancies finding somewhere with some winter sun. Our destinations of choice are the Vendée and Charente Maritime, neither of which we know much about other than they’ll be warmer than Bagnoles-de-l’Orne and nearer the coast.

The overnight sailing from Portsmouth to St Malo was a first and we rather enjoyed the leisurely crossing. Brittany Ferries’ plinky plonky alarm music didn’t wake us until almost 7am with a lovely view of St Malo

We’re staying in Luçon for the next five nights and chose to explore a couple of possible winter locations on our way. First was Vouvant, a very pretty town in the Vendée.

It was rather twee and quiet but obviously popular with the artist community as every shop and house was some type of gallery. However half the customers in the bar were English and a large expat community isn’t what we’re after.

Next was Fontenay Le Comte which looked far busier. We only managed to drive round and it merits a revisit. John’s quite taken with it, Kim’s not so sure as it’s quite a large town.

We found our ‘hotel’ in Lucon and it appears we’re sharing a rather lovely family home quite unlike anywhere we’ve stayed before. Much as we hate to name check, thank you Booking.com!

We’re off to St Jean D’Angely tomorrow, 1.5 hours away. Our hostess says the town is ‘special’. We’re not quite sure what that means.

Still winning….

…to quote Captain Obvious from Hotels.com.

Ken first quoted the above phrase on a hot, stuffy train from Pisa and it has kept us company ever since. Through broken wing mirrors, dislocated beds, miserably cold, wet weather and dodgy backs we have convinced ourselves we are ‘still winning’

And we are! The four of us have managed to remain together and have some fantastic days, despite Ken’s obvious discomfort and lack of mobility. Jacky deserves a bravery award for sharing a 6m x 2.35m space with him in this condition.

The weather has created more resourceful campers, our route has been adapted and we’ve only stayed at a couple of pre-booked campsites. We’ve learned a lot this trip and only part of that is down to experience, the rest is due to the little Rainbow Camper-Van.

These things are never going to be a joy to drive but she has given us confidence to explore routes we would never have attempted in her bigger siblings (except when lost!).

Our final challenge, after the complicated process of filling up with LPG and negotiating the M25, is attempting to reverse her on the drive for unloading….we’ve spent a fortune having the wall repointed so we’ll have to be careful!

Another motorhome adventure next year? We’ll have to wait and see….

240 miles – Luxembourg to France via Belgium

Another early start, on the road by 9:30. Now 9:30 doesn’t sound early so we’ll explain what that actually means. We’re up at 7 and to to be able to move around the camper the bed needs raising back into the roof. That’s a 2 person job since the cable guard broke.

While the kettle is boiling the window blinds need to be removed and stored. It takes ages for the kettle to boil on the toy gas stove and who goes anywhere without a cuppa?

After a breakfast of muesli with fresh fruit and yoghurt, it’s the trek to the washing up block to clean breakfast dishes which need securely stowing, wrapped in kitchen towel to prevent continuous rattling while travelling which causes insanity.

Cupboards are closed and secured, heaven forbid you leave a cupboard unsecured! Contents fly everywhere in a quite terrifying manner.

Gas is turned off so we don’t spontaneously combust, electricity is disconnected and the cable reel rolled up which leads to a burst of hysteria from the heating and hot water control panel. How dare we take away its power supply without asking?

Then it’s a final check to ensure all external doors are secured, windows closed and roof lights lowered before turning off the master control panel. Finally, 2.5 hours after getting up, you’re ready to go.

Setting off for a new destination is all rather stressful and time consuming!

We faced our longest drive, it was cold but sunny when we left and we managed a mile down the road before we ground to a halt. Luxembourg was gridlocked and weren’t going anywhere for ages.

We were delayed by 30 mins with Paul Weller singing Wings of Speed, how does the iPod know the most tactless song to play?

240 miles of mainly motorway driving was dull and tiring. The most interesting thing we saw was how neatly felled trees were stacked alongside the Belgium motorway.

Our final campsite is at Eperlecques, about 25 miles from Calais. A lovely setting but the shower facilities reflect the fact that we are in France.

Our final meal together for this trip, classic Coq au vin in front of a roaring log fire.. a votre sante.

😂

A day in Luxembourg

It had been a long, cold night. Temperatures dipped to just 2 degrees and stayed there till the morning. Heating in the van just hadn’t been up to it until Kim read the instructions, it was running at half power on a low fan speed, it didn’t stand a chance! It’s a shame we know that with only two more nights to go.

By our standards it was an early start, out before 9:30 to catch a bus into the capital city. Our enthusiasm was misplaced, at the bus stop we faced a 45 minute wait in biting cold so decided to walk along the bus route to keep warm. Three stops down, and obviously looking like bewildered tourists, a local kindly provided some guidance and advised us where to get off. A few minutes later we were seated on a warm bus travelling into town.

Within 15 minutes we were in the centre of Luxembourg City, and still acting like bemused tourists. We had maps, Jacky even had a walking route, but we could not get our bearings. Google Maps rescued us, yet again, and directed us to a cafe for a well needed caffeine fix.

We orientated ourselves and started our tour of the city at the Pfaffenthal Panoramic Elevator with views across the valley towards the Grand Duchess Charlotte Bridge.

Kim and Jacky walked round the top fortifications via the Spanish Turrets, while John and Ken took the glass elevator down.

Fortifications around the old city are a UNESCO World Heritage site and we all met at the Bock Promentary and Casements with its fantastic views.

Following the Casement round and down into the Grund, or lower town was a smart move. There was a small art market on the bridge with live music. The sun was shining, we were out of the wind and they had refreshments.

Of course we felt obliged to support the local economy by sampling the local delicacy of chips with mayonnaise.

We checked the map again…..

Our next stop was the centre of the old city via a very smart Justice Quarter.

The state funeral of Grand Duke Jean had taken place yesterday and there were signs of his passing everywhere. He’d abdicated in 2000, in favour of his son Henri, and died in April aged 98. Jean had served with the Irish Guards, fought at Normandy and Arnhem before returning to Luxembourg to lead its liberation. It was obvious as we walked the city that there was a lot of affection for him. White orchids had been laid at the statue of his late wife, Josephine-Charlotte

Next stop was the Grand Duke’s Palace where the Guards kept us entertained with their foot stomping. (short video below)

More white flowers were laid outside the Palace

Another corner turned, another market appeared. This was more bric a brac but kept us entertained for a while before moving on towards the Cathedral

The cathedral remained wreathed in orchids and there were long queues to view the Grand Dukes final resting place in the Cathedral’s crypt.

We were weary and it was time to find a bus back. We took a look over the ramparts into the Vallee de la Petrusse below rather than walking down through it. It looked like a glorious walk but our feet were complaining.

Having just missed the bus, and not wanting to wait an hour for the next one, we debated options that got us on a bus within 10 minutes. We had a slightly walk at the end of the route but we were cold and buses are warm!

Our final evening ended in the local pizzeria, starting with some very tasty hors d’oeuvres and ending with complementary Limoncello. Somewhere in between were the biggest pizzas in the world.