braysabroad

Yesterday afternoon, and despite being over dressed for the weather, we walked to the Cave de Turckheim, on the outskirts of town, for a wine tasting. Never a good idea on an empty stomach but we managed and even remembered to pick up our wine this morning. Usefully, each wine had an information card detailing, amongst other measurements, its precise sugar content, surprisingly we both preferred a dry (0.9g/l) Muscat which we associate with sweet wine to a classic Riesling. You live and learn, hic.

Our day ended with a late night walk into town to follow the Night Watchman on his round at 10pm. An ancient role, originally intended to remind residents to ‘take care of the fireplace and candle’ before bed. Today, the round is recreated by the Turckheim Historical Society and, each night between May and October, the NightWatchman can be seen on the streets, singing at each junction and wishing everyone a good night.

There were 12 of us following the watchman last night. On each corner we were encouraged to join the Watchman in his singing followed by local stories. It was such a shame our French and German are simply not good enough to keep up. We had seen the silhouette symbol of the Watchman in many places around town and finally it all made sense.

Today we had 650km drive from Turckheim to Otterlo in the Netherlands. There was some frantic last minute googling to buy a Crit’air badge to allow the car through Strasbourg. £4.50 well spent although, after paying to post it to us, quite how the French Government make a profit is a mystery.

Our route took us past ‘Liberty Enlightening the World’. Colmar was home to Frederic Bartholdi designer of the famous statue that graces New York harbour.

We arrived in Otterlo at 6pm, tired and hungry. We are staying in a sort of youth hostel with no visible staff. Following check in instructions was our first significant challenge – the correct code entered in the correct key locker. We didn’t expect it to be such a challenge.

Otterlo is surrounded by forest and, tomorrow’s plan is to cycle the Kroller-Miller park, visiting the museum. Fingers crossed the Dutch weather stays fine.

Today’s plan was to cycle a loop out to Colmar and back via Eguisheim. We woke to cold drizzle with a vague promise of sunshine later.

Hardy beings that we are, we chose to stick to the plan. Kim has wanted to visit Colmar since our JustGo camper van days when Facebook photos showed such a beautiful town. Our route there was flat, through country lanes and dedicated cycle paths. Perfect cycling, in better weather.

Colmar was busy, we dodged walking tour after walking tour before deciding to follow the tourist train around town. A smart move that provided sights we would not otherwise have found. Colmar is stunning and busy, although the medieval buildings are beautifully painted, they are missing the window boxes full of geraniums found in other towns. The Bartholdi museum was shut and there was obvious sign of any Statue of Liberty so, in less than an hour, we’d ticked Colmar off the list and won’t rush back. Fun fact, Colmar is famous for its Petite Venise a popular tourist spot…. and that France, alone, has at least 50 Petit Venice’s which in reality is just a town with a canal running through the middle.

Our Komoot app let us down on the way to Eguisheim, we’d strayed so far from the route that we were halfway back to Turckheim before we realised the error. Google came to our rescue, if you call muddy tracks through sweetcorn fields a suitable route for Bromptons. This was our only sighting of a stork and it was too quick to be captured in the photo.

Eguisheim is yet another pretty Alsace town, complete with cobbled streets which are hard work on a bike with its small 16” wheels. The sun came out and we stopped for lunch. Our route took us past vineyards and through Wettolshein and Wintzenheim.

We haven’t done much walking this holiday so, this afternoon, we walked the Dragon Trail around the vineyard slopes overlooking Turckheim. The views across the valley were splendid and, if our French was better, we would have learned why the soil makes the Alsace wine so special.

A special mention for the Bromptons, attention seeking little bikes that they are. We were stopped by a German lady in Eguisheim who was rather taken with the neat design and very impressed with how easy they are to fold. Back at the hotel carpark, a van stopped suddenly. The driver needs a small bike for his small British Car. It turned out he keeps a Caterham in a nearby garage, it’s the same shade of green as John’s bike. The Caterham is going racing in the uk soon and a Brompton is just what’s needed to make his trip complete.

This morning our previously quiet hotel appears to have been taken over by a group of argumentative and noisy Australian women on a hiking expedition. We escaped by following the Alsace wine trail out to Kayersberg, a picturesque village known for its half-timbered houses, colourful buildings and decorated balconies. Red geraniums are tied closely to Alsace heritage and there aren’t many balconies and window boxes that aren’t decorated with them.

We were treated to the Kamaleon Big Band playing jazz standards in the main square, as we wandered around taking in an art exhibition and some wine tasting before heading back to Turckheim for their ‘new wine festival’. Kayersberg was very busy and, as we left, another full coach arrived and we were pleased to leave.

On the drive back, John’s quest for the perfect photo involved an off road experience through the vineyards for Matt’s Golf, kindly lent us for our trip. He won’t ever know because he doesn’t read our blog….

A lovely afternoon was spent, sitting in the sunshine, in Turckheim’s main square, drinking wine while listening to live music. There was something supremely cheery about being entertained by an accordionist and tuba player playing Blues Brothers, Grease and Tom Jones medleys. When they took a break, L’Orchestre d’Harmonie de Turckheim took over with a distinct change of tone and style.

In order to buy food and wine, we had to pay up front and were given a ticket. Each vendor crossed off the value of our purchase and, when we left, our unspent Euros were returned. Such a simple and effective system.

Tonight, the hotel restaurant is closed so it’s leftovers that we found in the car together with a nice bottle of local Pinot Gris. If you look closely, you can see our afternoon’s wine glasses which we chose to keep rather than have our deposit back.

Firstly, what encouraged Kim to cycle 30km, on a Brompton, when there’s a perfectly good car sitting in the car park?

Answer? Cheese!

It’s stopped raining so with the aid of dedicated cycle paths and our Komoot cycle app, we cycled peacefully along the Vosges valley to the Munster Cheese Museum. It’s our first time using Komoot for navigation and we’re impressed, a laid back voice successfully directing us from inside Kim’s pocket.

We were too late to book a full guided tour of the museum but the static information displays together with quite a whiff of cheese about the place was interesting. We now know that the edible part of cheese is known as paste even though it doesn’t come out of a tube.

The Albert Schweitzer museum, in Gonsbach, was closed for lunchtime so we detoured up into Munster for our own refreshments before heading back to a lovely little museum in Schweitzer’s house.

Nobel prize winner philosopher and physician, Schweitzer was a true humanitarian. The overarching principle that guided him was ‘reverence for life‘, a philosophy that took him to Lambarene in Gabon, where he established a hospital healing many and touched the lives of millions worldwide.

After the museum we climbed the Sentier Weg footpath up out of town stopping at signs quoting Schweitzer philosophy which we didn’t understand before cycling back, past fields, through woodland and alongside rivers.

We will leave you with this Schweitzer quote – ‘There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats’. Guess who agrees and who is wheezing in a corner .

We’re in France for an adventure postponed from 2024. Walking, cycling and culture await.

Wednesday night was spent on the overnight ferry to Holland, we then drove 9 hours through 4 countries to reach Turckheim on the Alsace Wine Route and it’s been piddling with rain ever since.

Highlight of our long journey was John’s conversation with a German lady in a Belgian Roadside Cafe. They were discussing the practice of charging to use the toilets, we were entertained by the phrase ‘€1 for a pee pee? It’s an expensive pee pee’

Cycling and walking are on hold until the weather cheers up so, today, we drove to Mulhouse to visit Musee National de l’automobile or Schlumpf collection as it should rightly be known. The Schlumpf brothers lost the right to their immense collection of cars, in the 1970s, when they could no longer pay workers in their textile mill. French authorities stepped in, and confiscated the collection for what may have been purely political reasons – the wealthy bourgeoisie trampling on the workers. An alternative story is that the brothers tried to sell their collection to a private buyer to cover their debts and pay their employees but were prevented by French Authorities. Wherever the truth lies, this is an amazing collection of rare and interesting cars.

https://www.musee-automobile.fr/en/discover-the-museum/

Our drive back along the Alsace Wine Route, took us through some lovely villages with great views – we couldn’t see said views through the rain so there’s only one photo.

Finally, we had a wander around Turckheim before heading back to our hotel.

Our time away has come to an end and we’re waiting for our flight. It’s a really hot day so it’s quite pleasant to be in the airport.

No sightseeing this morning, we didn’t have quite enough time but….. we did have time to while away almost 2 hours over breakfast, playing cards on the terrace of the restaurant next door.

Would I come back to Porto? Absolutely, there are still a tram rides to the coast, museums, port tastings and gardens to visit.

Would we go away together again? Absolutely and next year is either Lisbon or Gdansk or somewhere else…. we’re a bit dithery on the decision making!

Yesterday was a much appreciated leisurely start with breakfast at 10 at a restaurant right next door to our apartment.

When we’re away, John loves a market so it seemed appropriate that our first stop was Mercado do Bolhao simply to make him jealous. The market is Porto’s most important food market and the current building dates back to the early 20th Century.

Next stop was the cathedral, dating back to the 12th Century and a mix of Romanesque, Gothic and Baroque architecture. The gilding and decoration was fantastic and paid for by the wealthy of Porto, hoping to secure paradise. Wonder how well that worked for them?

Embracing our inner tourists, we took a boat trip along the Douro river, learned about the bridges that cross it and had the best view of the historic Ribiera district.

Our walk back to the apartment was via the church of Sao Francisco, one of the most prominent monuments in Porto, noted for it gothic carves and gilded interior. Sadly, photos weren’t allowed. We’d already caused a stir when Liz used the disabled toilet in the market and felt trying to take a sneaky photo could permanently turn Porto against us. You can use your imagination when I say that 400 – 700 kg of gold dust were used in its decoration.

We were able to take photos in the catacombs under the church, beautifully quiet and peaceful which is always a bonus when dealing with dead bodies in tombs.

Porto is hilly and not just an up and down hill! We walked up and down and up and down and repeat! Our apartment about 20 minutes walk from the river, at the top of the hill, and the walk back to get freshened up for dinner was hard work. We stopped halfway for a much needed cake and coffee stop in a small art deco patisserie, before coming across The Arruada de Ranchos. A procession of folk groups through the streets of Porto during the São João festivities

Hoping to see a Fado concert, had booked a restaurant back down near the river on the recommendation or our Air bnb host. So, less than an hour after climbing up the hill, we were heading back down for dinner. Our walking tour guide talked about the most beautiful McDonalds in the world and she was probably right. With its art deco glass, chandeliers and security guard it was a sight.

Something had been lost in translation. We are in a lovely tapas restaurant with fantastic views across the Douro to a backdrop of ABBA. Not quite what we had in mind and definitely better than planned. Fortified by the food and a glass of port with dessert, we made it back up the hills with not a grumble amongst us.

Kim is on an adventure with her oldest friends – a weekend in Porto to celebrate our ‘big birthday’ year.

Our day started at 04:30 at Luton Airport, rather a shock to all of us but a nice early start in Porto. We were in the city by 10am for an early brunch at the Majestic Cafe, a beautiful art deco cafe serving the best coffee in Porto and a favourite of JK Rowling when writing Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.

Our afternoon was spent on a walking tour and, my goodness, Porto is hilly! We walked past the cathedral, visited the Sao Bento Station with its 20000 painted tiles and had a comprehensive lesson in the city’s history. Tomorrow morning, we’ll visit the museum in the Cathedral and the 14th Century baroque Franciscan Church which, allegedly, is lined with 300kg of gold and described as an explosion in a gold factory- I wonder how much we can get out, under our fingernails?

We learned about Porto’s dark history and the Jewish extermination in 15th and 16th century. It was a disturbing listen and our tour guide found it difficult to relate.

Our final tourist destination was the Livraria Lello, the most beautiful bookshop in the world and we would struggle to challenge the description. It was a shame about the crowds but well worth a visit.

Ok, time to come clean….. we didn’t really buy a tractor.

Our last day in Soller was sunny so we started in the Botanic Gardens, filled with many plants from the Balearic Islands, Mediterranean and further afield.

We left Ken and Jacky browsing the gardens and wandered out of town towards Biniaraix. We’d done the walk on our last visit, it wasnt far and we knew there’d be a bar playing very chilled music. Before we knew it, we left the google route behind and were following the GR221 hiking route. Suddenly we were walking far further and Google was sulking.

It was worth the detour through little hamlets with fantastic views back across the valley to the mountains. The bar was just as we remembered with tasty food and interesting signs on the toilet door.

Everyday, we have talked and looked for a carrot tapas similar to one on our last visit. They were the most expensive, and tasty, carrots ever. It was good to finally come across a similar carrot dish on the bar menu.

Refreshed, we returned to Soller and visited Can Prunera which houses the Museo Modernista. Part museum, part art gallery it is housed in an old art nouveau mansion built in the early 20th Century. Restoration of this beautiful home was made possible by a collaboration between the Soller Railway Company and the Serra Art Foundation.

On our way to the airport, our taxi driver spoke about the impact of tourism. Visitors are up 1,000,000 since 2023 and the island is struggling to cope. The made sense of ‘SOS Soller’ signs we’d seen dotted around the town.

Finally, as we wait for our flight, would we come back to Soller? Absolutely, and for at least a week. We’ve mastered public transport and there is much to do in and around this lovely area.

Our day started like locals, John and I caught a bus to Inca for the Dijou Bo festival.

We intended to take the train part of the way but walking from one bus stop to another was far more appealing than finding a train with only 3 words of Spanish.

We’d been advised to get to Inca early, it gets really busy. We arrived at the agricultural section of the festival and couldn’t understand what the fuss had been about it was fairly quiet possibly because it’s not easy to carry a tractor or mini-digger home with you

Then we hit the local produce and craft markets. The only way to move among the crowds was to walk very slowly and savour the atmosphere. Two elderly ladies, in Mallorcan costume, were cooking delicious fresh apple donuts. It was quite an experience and the largest market we have ever seen.

The programme included animal auctions and riding displays on Minorcan horses. A quick search of Google Maps for a green space described as ‘busier than usual’ was all that was needed to find them. Amongst many animals, we discovered Porc Negre Mallorqui and Fat Pigeons – we are not being rude, the pigeon is really named ‘Fat’!

It was a toss up between buying a tractor or Mallorcan black pig. Let’s see what we can get through customs and EasyJet baggage checks….

Meanwhile Ken and Jacky didn’t have the same dilemma, preferring instead to stretch their legs on a long walk from Soller.

Our final night was spent at C’an Llimona, a pasta restaurant with a limited menu made from beautifully fresh ingredients. There are no food pictures because we were too busy playing a 1993 version of Trivial Pursuit.

The Dana weather front has thankfully exhausted itself in the Majorca area, yippee! The last time we were in Palma, we had intended to visit the Fundacion Miro but someone fell off her bike en route! Today, we took a taxi into Palma to finally tick that off our list.

It was well worth waiting for. The land was bequeathed by Miro’s wife, Pilar, and she sold 26 of his paintings to fund building the museum. The site also includes Miro’s sculpture studio and another purpose built studio designed by his friend Josep Sert and of course gardens. Can you identify which photo isn’t modernist art?

It was quite a long walk back into the city, along the harbour front past all the expensive boats which was rather pleasant. We stopped for a leisurely lunch before a taxi back to Soller.

Having arrived back in Soller, beer was calling us. It’s always surprising how difficult it is to choose a suitable bar in an unknown town. We wandered past many before settling on one, filled with locals and, most amazingly, a group of elderly ladies playing Ludo. Beer turned into more beer and eventually food…

Tomorrow, we brave public transport to the Agriculture and Craft festival in Inca, Dijous Bo.

It’s been a mild sunny day, we could almost be on holiday!

We intended to walk from Soller down to Port de Soller, dusting off our old InnTravel notes for the 5k, reasonably flat walk. It was drizzling as we left but the forecast was hopeful. Within 15 minutes the downpour started and, after a short debate sheltering under a dripping balcony, we decided to return to town and take the tram down through the citrus groves.

Port de Soller was mainly shut so we caught the next tram back and the safety of the hotel

Mid afternoon, rain stopped, we ventured out to visit the Church of San Bartolome and its museum. A church has been on this site since at least the 13th Century and expanded to encompass 14 individual chapels. It’s gothic modernist facade was designed by a disciple of Gaudi and is quite imposing.

The museum comprised a couple of small rooms dedicated to historic church furniture together with a few odds and ends. We were taken with statues of baby Jesus that looked remarkably like a dressed up Tiny Tears doll and a bag of coins that had us debating their metal composition.

Most interesting was the story of Francisca Alcover Morell. After devoting her life to Christian principles, promoting the Catholic faith in newspapers, writing poetry and setting up a school to teach women of the area how to read and write, she died in 1954, aged 42. Francisca has received beatification from the Pope and the congregation pray to her for a miracle which would assure her sainthood.

As we left the church, rain sent us back to our hotel and we haven’t left since. Apparently we are in the midst of an amber alert Dana weather system so could remain damp for a little while longer.

And we know this, courtesy of the Information Service at Palma Airport. There was no direct bus to Soller because ‘that is summer only’.

In October, our plans for a few days cycling in the Alsace were scuppered by illness and we chose a simple, warmish alternative so we are back in Soller, Mallorca with Jacky and Ken.

After an early flight from Luton into Palma Airport we were looking at blue skies and warm sunshine. If only our winter was as appealing! Courtesy of an airport taxi, we were at our hotel by midday and set about reacquainting ourselves with the town.

To our delight, at the railway station, we found two small exhibition rooms, one for Joan Miro and the other filled with Picasso ceramics. The ceramics are from the private collection of Padre Josep Sert, a Mallorcan architect and contemporary of both Miro and Picasso. At the entrance to the Miro rooms, there is a poster translating some of his recurring images which made them far more interesting.

We may return, before we come home, because it turns out you can keep adults entertained for hours scouring Modernist art for ull, cor, pits and boca (hint: a Catalan translation will help).

We have views of the Tramuntana mountains from both our balconies, the weather is looking rather grim tomorrow so this could be the last we see of these for while.

Should you ever visit Soller, we recommend an evening at C’an Limona – freshly prepared food with home made pasta and a quirky setting.

We write this while waiting for our ferry to depart Ouistreham. We’ve been warned that the crossing will take an hour longer than usual. On the way out we thought Brittany Ferries hadn’t paid the heating bill, now we’re wondering if they’re economising on fuel too.

Our hotel was nothing special so we declined breakfast and our morning caffeine hit was taken sitting outside a patisserie on a cool, breezy terrace while we waited for the Eglise Notre-Dame de Carentan to open. The town looked far nicer than we gave it credit for yesterday.

The Longest Yarn challenge started 12 months ago. The aim was to create a display, 80m long, commemorating D-Day in Carentan and the surrounding area.

80 displays wound their way round the cathedral, each depicting a different scene relating to the planning and subsequent D-Day events. The imagination, skill and detail that have gone into them is amazing. We can’t share a photo of each scene so here’s a selection.

As we were leaving, we chatted with a couple from Hereford who were visiting the display. The lady was responsible for ‘Scene 45’ which she had designed and completed on her own, her initial thoughts were ‘how hard could this be?’ We all know that is a daft thing to think because it’s always more difficult than you could ever imagine! Anyway, she told us the tale of her scene which depicts The Mayor of Colleville arriving to greet the troops as the town is liberated and features Piper Bill Millin, a Scottish Piper who played his bagpipes as the troops advanced along the beach. Hidden in the display is a bottle of wine which Piper Bill was presented with at the time, the crafty French having buried all their good wine and spirits. Bill never drank his wine and his son is now the custodian. Bill also had a favourite jumper which his son inherited. Said jumper was donated to the project and wool from it is included in his bagpipe, shoes and scenery.

This display of little woolly figures delivers an unexpectedly emotional punch.

And now it’s time to take a moment to reflect on our highlights of the trip. Jacky and Ken thought the countryside, and wildlife, we came across during our walks were stunning and well worth the challenging days we had experienced. We all know a lot more about butterflies as a result. John was really impressed by the Gouffre de Padirac caverns and it takes a lot to impress him! Kim wrote this so she got to break the ‘one thing’ rule. Oradour sur Glane and The Longest Yarn were emotional and thought provoking. Both agreed that, after 30+ years, it was rather special to catch up with Dave (Bunny) and meet Suzy.

Words cannot adequately express how disappointed we were that the brush shop in La Chartre wasn’t open this morning. We just knew the right brush for us was lurking in its depths.

Our route to Carentan included a detour for lunch with our friends, Jane and David, at their holiday home in Lassay les Chateux. We haven’t see them for a few years and David maintains he is still deeply scarred from joining us on a JustGo Italian Motorhome relocation back in 2018.

They are holidaying with their friends Chris and David, who we have not met before and spent an interesting afternoon getting to know them. It turned out that John had met David before, he was John’s tutor, when he did his degree, and supervised his Field Trip to Cyprus. As they say, it’s a small world

We were very close to Bagnoles de l’Orne where we had an apartment for many years and took a drive through. It was very busy so we didn’t stop but managed a nostalgic photo of the building. Kim wondered why we don’t have a place in France or a motorhome. John continued to pretend he hadn’t heard and simply ignored her.

Our final night is in Carentan, in a hotel with very tired rooms. After the lovely places we’ve stayed, it’s come as quite a shock but we’re here to see The Longest Yarn. It’s a knitted and crocheted depiction of scenes from the D-Day landings. Kim and her friend Rowena contributed 20 of the 10,000 poppies needed for the display. Not only do we need to identify these 20 poppies but admire the creativity that has gone into the 80m display. That’s our task for tomorrow morning, before we board the afternoon sailing from Ouistreham.

This could refer to a number of things throughout the day but, after years of wanting to stay here, John has finally booked into The Hotel de France in La Chartre sur le Loir.

We will tell you more but, first, you have to read about our 8 hour drive. Google told us it would take less than 6 hours for our 320 mile journey from the Tarn. We had a brief stop in Bellac, roads have been fairly clear so not sure why it’s taken us so long.

Bellac was about halfway, we needed sustenance and pulled off the main road. Of course, it’s Monday and France doesn’t do Mondays. We wandered past several closed cafes and shops, before coming across Le Central where we were greeted in perfect French by a young man from Lancaster. Drinks and a sharing platter of dips were devoured giving Kim enough energy to walk down a steep hill to the river…. John decided to take in ‘the bigger picture’ which in reality meant he was staying up top and taking photos. Look carefully and you can see Kim in the picture below.

Next our penultimate stop, the famous Hotel de France, home to many Le Mans winning teams and drivers of the past, including John Wyer, Steve McQueen and Mike Hailwood and still very popular today. We’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

That’s the question on our lips. The weather at home has been awful, we have lovely weather and are only 100 miles from the Spanish border.

We spent the morning in the medieval town of Najac with Suzy and Dave. It was market day, the town is beautiful and was buzzing with a selection of stall holders and small artisan shops. Well worth a visit.

This afternoon was spent taking advantage of the weather – Kim sat on our terrace reading, while John turned on the tv and spent a couple of hours exchanging messages with Matt who is at the Le Mans 24 hour race which has had serious issues with the wet weather.

When we came to leave the hotel to catch up with Suzy and Dave, we discovered the hotel stairs had been barriered off, reception was in darkness and there were warning signs telling us alarms were on. We finally escaped out of an emergency exit only to find the car park gates locked. Luckily, Ken and Kim’s combined strength managed to release one gate and with a great sigh of relief, we were out and on our way.

Suzy and Dave left their life in Plymouth for a 19th century farmhouse, in need of renovation, in a beautifully quiet location. Suzy had insisted that she wanted to settle in a town with cafes, cinema and shops before falling in love with the complete opposite. We had a lovely, leisurely meal with lively conversation. Thank you both for your hospitality, it was a special way to bring our time down south to an end.

Early start tomorrow for 300+ miles to La Chartre sur le Loir

Heavy rain, last night, re-inforced how lucky we have been with the weather. Walking was tough at times and would have been deeply unpleasant if wet and muddy underfoot.

Today was market day in Martel and you know how John likes a market. It was an interesting collection of stalls and even included a man selling just feathers.

We had a two hour drive to St Andre de Najac to catch up with Dave and Suzy who have been living in the area for the last 8 years. John and Dave met in their early twenties but paths haven’t crossed for 30+ years.

Considering our walking holiday is called ‘Villages of the Dordogne’, we haven’t actually seen much of the river. Leaving Martel, we crossed the river and stopped off for a photo opportunity.

L’Hopitalet was where we next bumped into Jacky and Ken as we stopped for an obligatory cuppa before setting off in different directions to explore.

The walk down to Rocamadour was steep and hard on the knees. The view of the town hanging on the side of a cliff was amazing. We wandered through the medieval streets commenting that, just like Mont St Michel, it was simply a tourist destination. Pilgrims apparently do still visit to be in the prescence of the miracle working black Madonna, but in far fewer numbers. Having walked all the way down the hill, it was time to climb back up. Halfway, we popped into the church to see the vierge noir statue. As we left the church, we turned to each other and said ‘she’s smaller than we thought’. Obviously, there were no miracles for us other than getting the lift back to the top. Fundraising is interesting, for €1 you can hammer a nail into an old tree stump.

We have seen two large groups of cyclomoteurs. Moped riders to those of you less cultured than us! The first group in Rocamadour, we put down to over excited youths but the second group had us re-thinking. Our route into Najac was blocked by the Gendarmerie and we waited while at least 100 cyclomoteurs adorned with blue capes turned in front of us. They were followed by a cavalcade of cars and trucks with indicators flashing. With our poor French, I’m not sure we’ll get to the bottom of this.

….and chose not to do today’s suggested walk. ‘No, thank you, to another 11k of hills and valleys. Let’s do alcohol instead’.

Last night, we tasted the local walnut oil and a chilled walnut aperitif. Our hotel is run by owners of an organic walnut farm and old processing mill. Cars were rescued from their holiday adjacent to the motorhomes and we drove 15 minutes along lovely empty, twisting roads to Moulin a huile Castagne.

The mill owner stopped milling to explain the process from harvest to oil and flour production. It was surprising how labour intensive it is. Walnuts are harvested in late autumn and dried. A machine cracks the outer shells and kernels are removed by hand. Kernels are crushed using a rotating millstone then roasted over a fire fuelled by walnut wood and shells, before being pressed for oil. Any waste products are turned into flour for baking or used as a sheep feed. The aroma was amazing and tasting of oil and walnuts followed.

Next stop was the Chemin de Fer Touristique du Haut Quercy or Le Truffadou, a train that runs from Martel along to the viaduct we walked under yesterday. Originally, the line ran from Bordeaux and Aurillac and its primary function was export of Martel’s famous truffles to Paris. We weren’t expecting the station to be open but, in our constant quest for a cuppa, thought it worth a try. Luckily for us it was open, we had tea and coffee at bargain prices and were treated to a steam train pulling in to the station.

Our afternoon was spent at a local wine cooperative for a walk around the vineyard followed by the obligatory tasting. We managed half of the 6km walk through vineyards, walnut and truffle oak groves, then headed back for our tasting. Did you know that young oak trees are impregnated with truffle spores before planting? Each tree takes about seven years to produce truffles and will then continue to do so for up to 40 years.

It’s a very bad year for wine in this region, late frosts in April killed off the young shoots and since then, warm weather and continuous heavy rain have been perfect for mildew growth. Vines have plenty of new shoots but far fewer grapes, yields are expected to be down by 80%. Don’t worry, we panic bought and both car boots are full.

We tasted six different wines and do you have any idea how difficult it was to throw the remains of our tasting away?

Never feel smug!

We left the comfort of Loubressac wishing we had another day there. It may have been something to do with the longest walk of the holiday ahead of us, including two steep climbs.

A taxi dropped us off in Carennac, a small medieval village on a cliff above the Dordogne. It was a pretty, historic village to start in but, worried about the length of the walk, we didn’t hang around.

We tackled a long ascent out of town before walking along a ridge, through woodland and past meadows. We were kept company, in equal measure, by many different varieties of butterflies, flies and a cow.

Never ones to miss an opportunity to grumble, we were deeply disappointed not to find the bar open in Floirac, the largest village en route, or a cafe in any shape or form. What we did find was shade under which to eat our lunch and beautifully kept public toilets.

The route out of town took us alongside a railway line and there was talk of completing the last half of the walk by rail. We persevered and crossed the Dordogne over a bridge barely wide enough for a car.

Just before we started up a long, steep climb towards Martel, we came across an interesting approach to improving the look of pampas grass. That morning, Madame thought it needed tidying and decided to plait it. It had taken her only 40 minutes and she’d been really careful not to be cut to shreds by the nasty, evil thing. She was very proud of the result.

Our climb was every bit as steep and long as we’d imagined. We turned corner after corner and the path kept climbing. Luckily everything has to come to an end and finally we descended into Martel.

Throughout the day, our path crossed with the other couple on the same holiday. At one point, we’d commiserated with them about entry into their hotel after 5pm, no such restriction for us! Exhausted and footsore, we arrived at our hotel at 4 to find it ferme until 5:30! They were very kind not to gloat when they caught up with us, gulping down ice cold Perrier in the main square!

Our home for the next two nights is above a bar and next to the restaurant kitchen but I think we’ll cope. A bit worried that tomorrow’s dinner is coming out of a wall though