Ave Maria & injured back.

"Ouch! Bloomin eck! How on earth did that happen?" 

I bent down and picked up the melamine plate that had given my foot a good clout as it and my nice new non stick frying pan flew off the worktop where, as usual, they had temporarily been placed after washing and drying. Nice new non stick frying pan was now an oval shape and is still, after my clumsy re shaping, less than the circular shape it once was.

These not uncommon unusual movement of objects always surprise me with their ability to arrest and shock both mind and body. Invariably such simple, down to earth and 'of this world happenings' contain a message. This was no exception.

We were in Lourdes. Home to Bernadette and her vision of Mary. A place that over the years has for millions of humans meant much, or not. It has supported, sustained, healed, or not. It is firnly at the centre of many thousands of human beings spiritual or religious belief structure.

With skeptical and, I have to say, a somewhat rebellious and mischievous non believers mind, I was doing the washing up after tea. The crash of plate and frying pan were saying to me. "C'mon now, you're on my patch, trust me and my way for a couple of days. It'll be OK."

And indeed it was.

The name, place and story of Lourdes has been with me from my earliest memories having spent my formative years under catholic influence. So it is not surprising that I have been drawn here to 'see for myself' what it is all about.

The tat and pilgrimage site rip off is here and in your face. 10 euro per night to park Sadie with no facilities except convenient location. Out and about it is 50 cents every time you have a pee. But the place is beautiful and a couple of pleasant days have been spent here.

Tanya and I went off on the bike not really knowing where we were going but trusting Mary would see us OK seeing as how this was Lourdes, We arrived at the funicular railway just in time to lock up the bike and buy a one way ticket to the top where there was a wonderful overview of the town and surrounding hills.

Then it started to kick off. First off was a group of Italians at the viewpoint. They were complete with their church flag and insisted on a photo shoot with Tanya. She was good as gold but I'm not sure she appreciated the bunches of wild thyme they tucked into her collar. She did look cute though!

We headed off on the downward path and almost immediately came across a hang glider who as we approached launched himself off the 'almost a cliff' hillside. Oops! Big mistake. Not enough wind. One side of his wing collapsed and he swung round as if on a pendulum and back into the hillside about thirty feet lower. It was quite a crash. I could see no movement so started to edge myself down the hillside calling out; "Vous OK monsieur?"  Finally as I reached the parachute type wing tangled up in a bush a rather dazed figure started to emerge from a little lower down seemingly none the worse after his brief flight. He was muttering what I took to be obscenities in German but he did thank me and assured me he was OK in understandable French.

We returned to our descent and soon caught up with Nikki. She was a bit younger than me, divorced for 26 years and delighted at the chance to speak English. She was studying it but got little chance to practice in her home town of Pau. A very pleasant hour was spent before we finally arrived at the Funicular railway base and said our goodbyes.

"Well Tanya," I said as I loaded her into her green plastic bucket doggy carrier; "I guess the 'trusting' is working eh! That's three interesting 'giving' encounters. Wonder what the rest of the day has in store for us?"

Next stop was a 'centre of the action' pavement cafe for a good lunch while watching the life of Lourdes pass by in all its varied forms. Fascinating. You cannot help but get caught up in the overall energy of the place. It was again therefore no surprise that 9pm found me washed, shaved, dressed respectfully and among the throngs of multi national worshippers on their way to the service and candle lit procession at the main 'grotto' area.

Tanya was safely tucked up in Sadie as she was not allowed in the Grotto area. All the shops on route do a roaring trade selling candles in little paper cups with 'Ave Maria' written on them. Plastic bottles of various shapes and sizes were also flying off the shelves to be filled later from the area specially built with taps of holy water flowing straight from the Grotto. The small 'Mary' shaped bottles seemed to be very popular.

All very moving and I freely admit to letting myself get very pleasantly caught up in the overall joyful celebratory atmosphere. I re-learnt the 'Hail Mary' prayer too. I had completely forgotten it. Chanting the prayer along with hundreds if not thousands of others without skepticism or past history colouring my overall sense of inclusion and good feeling reminded me of what a beautiful prayer it is and how wonderfully it celebrates femininity.

OK Mary! Thanks. Guess that's what my visit to Lourdes has been about. A re-visiting and a re-seeing with new eyes.
Was wondering, d'you think it OK if I move on now?
-  -  -  -  -
Well we did move on. To where I am sitting now with strained back after a non serious slip and slide down a snow drift with a rocky landing at the bottom. That's what comes of not concentrating for a few seconds when on snow and at approximately 2300mtres and well into snow territory.

Twas Tanya's fault! She just loves the snow and was running round me ploughing her nose through the snow and I was encouraging her and throwing snow at her. Ah well these things happen but no serious harm done. Just a painful twinge whenever I move.

We are south of Lourdes back up in the 'Haute Pyrenees' at 'Gavarnie'. The Cirque du Gavarnie is world famous and our walk up to it yesterday was wonderful. Blue sky, high peaks and a relatively easy walk. Today Sadie struggled away up even further to the 'Col de Tentes' where we walked up the Col into the snow and into Spain. Mmmmmm thats a point! Wonder if I done for my back in France or Spain?  Again glorious weather and stunning vistas every which way you look.

Tonight we are snug and warm at the Aire just above Gavarnie. The weather has now closed in and is raining. So glad we have had the last few days of hot hot sun and blue skies.

Tomorrow?

We start North.

Cols & Lacs

Lac D'oo

"Whoa steady." Tanya does not like thunder and the deafening and unexpected thunderous crack right over our heads was enough for her to take one leap and land right in my lap. Never mind the fact I had a fork full of chicken salad halfway to my mouth. Chicken salad goes flying while Tanya buries herself into me shaking like a leaf. Not for long though. She soon loses the shakes as she discovers the flying chicken piece has conveniently landed within reach of her mouth. 

Hmmmm! Sometimes I wonder just who is fooling who?

We are in 'Val D'oo' and yesterday enjoyed a walk on up the valley to 'Lac D'oo' . This was on the recommendation of a lady we met while doing a walk to the peak opposite the ski resort at 'Col de Mente'. She was local and her: "Yoooo seeemply must walk to lac d'oo, eeet ees beeooteeeful!"  Was remembered as we passed the sign along the way. No plan as usual so a quick left turn was executed and here we have been since yesterday.

This 'North side of the Pyrenees' leaves me with a dilemma. The lakes, mountains, ability to wild camp and the sunshine are just so tempting that once again I find myself  'not getting very far'.

Picture it. You wind up a stepladder of a road giving alternate views of snow covered peaks ahead and precipitous drops to the valley and roadway below. Sadie, in third gear I have to say, finally swings into a convenient parking spot at the 'Col de Mente' and we disembark to enjoy a first class 13 euro 'Plat du jour' at the little cafe.

We are soon joined by 3 motorbikers from Cornwall on a 6 day trip from Santandar back to the UK. They were well pleased with my recommendation of 'Plat du jour' and tucked in heartily. I was showed round their big BMW and Suzuki touring bikes afterwards before they shot off on the downhill run. Wow! Some bikes and with all the gizmos you can imagine.

There was a steady stream of these bikers coming and going in each direction. But what fascinated me most were the cyclists as there was also a steady stream of them coming and going and grateful for a short rest before the descent. The groups of young fit men and women in all the cycling gear were impressive as these uphill and downhill descents are not your 'out for a Sunday ride' type of hill. So I was even more impressed when a group of four, two couples, all white haired and possessing wrinkles and tummy podges (quite prominent in tight cycling lycra!) turned up, stopped for about five minutes to don light jackets and then disappeared over the top and downhill.

My reaction to this?

"C'mon Tanya. Think we had better walk to that peak over there and assuage this guilty feeling!!" 

.... and we did.

Come evening it is a different story. The little cafe has closed and the steady stream of tourist traffic has stopped. We are left alone on this lovely Col to enjoy the peace and quiet of the approaching night. Just to prove the silence, it's 'normal'ness' if you like, a Wild boar appears on the track opposite with six little piglets in tow. I was spellbound and made not a move as they all shuffled about on the edge of the track and then trotted off into the forest. Tanya, luckily, was at that point out of sight of both me and Mummy boar. She was doing her own doggy rooting over by the waste bins.

A pleasant, silent night under star studded sky was spent at the Col before we left ourselves for the 2nd gear plus brakes hour long downhill run. We only travelled about 20 miles before 'Lac D'oo' beckoned us to this delightful and large wild camping spot right by a little lake and with a cafe on site too. The 4km steep walk to 'Lac D'oo' itself was yesterdays exercise while today; Well the intention is to try and travel over to Lourdes. How far we get before we are once again tempted into an inviting valley or Col is anybody's guess.

Various - 18/5 to 23/5

18/5/12 Location – edge of Lac Montbell just by the hamlet of Montbell, Calabres, Ariege. It is a dull, wet but warm evening.

I wonder, have you ever considered the purpose in life of say a tea leaf or a grain of rice stored away safely in its container? Their prime task is rightfully that which they were put on this earth for. Rice with the accompaniment of it's friends and neighbours to plump up and be the delightfully bland counterpart to a deliciously hot and fruity curry. Tea to eagerly impart it's nectar to boiling water and so provide the perfect cup of tea while pondering the comings and goings of life.

But did you know they also have a secondary function in life at which they excell. This secondary function has now been scientifically verified as genuine in the village of  'Ille-sur-Tet' while on route to 'Quillan' from 'Argeles-sur-Mer'.

Turning right instead of left or vica-versa is not an unusual experience for me when driving Sadie. It is one of the reasons I miss the sat nav as the repeated, “in 500metres turn left etc etc” from the friendly voice of Emma tends to reduce the number of wrong turns. In 'Ille-sur-Tet' I made a mistake and was looking for a suitable and safe place to turn Sadie around. A builders yard presented itself conveniently and Sadie was swinging round ready to exit in the correct direction. A sickening lurch as Sadies back wheel hit a large, vicious and unseen pothole. This put every cupboard catch in the van under severe strain. This time the cupboard above the sink sprang open (I suspect because I had probably not latched it fully home)

Now I would consider instant coffee granules as having the same primary functions in life as rice and tea. Like rice and tea instant coffee granules also have the secondary function, given the slightest opportunity, of escaping their container, performing unbelievable feats of gravitational challenge, and desporting themselves over the widest spectrum of available possibility. A three quarter full snap off top jar of instant coffee granules flung at speed out of a high cupboard in a motorhome emphatically proved this secondary function. Gravity holds no power over these tiny particles as they each head for their chosen destination propelled by the force of the spinning, and now separated from snap off top, coffee jar on it's way to the floor of the van. Thankfully it did not shatter thus sparing me the shards of broken glass saga.

A quick stop and the worst of the mess was brushed up but it was not till the next morning the full extent of the mess became apparent. We were wild camped just outside the charming little hill village of 'Ansignan'. The day started early with an impromptu walk to a Dolmen (neolithic stones) atop the nearby hill with amazing views toward the snow covered peaks of Canigou. (the mountain of Catalan) Earlier though, coffee granules in my bed and in Tanya's ears had convinced me a van strip out and deep clean was required. There were coffee granules in every conceivable nook and cranny throughout the motorhome. Luckily it was a warm, dry morning so virtually the whole van contents were flung out while I cleaned with soapy water. The water had to be renewed 2 or 3 times as it quickly became black coffee.

That was yesterday. A few minutes ago I raised the bed on it's hinges to retrieve a map from the storage space beneath. Guess what fell out of the map as I opened it? … !!!!!

- - - - - - -

20/5/12 – location – still on the edge of 'Lac Montbell'.

Y'know what; there has been a subtle change. Maybe it is just the slowing down, or perhaps it is to do with the length of time away. I think the return to more regular meditative practice and study has a connection too. I said at the start, this journey is about 'don't know' and I guess that applies to subtle mental changes too.

This is the second morning at this very pleasant spot right on the edge of the man made and very large 'Lac Montbell'. We arrived Friday evening to a very Scottish dull, low grey scudding cloud outlook. It got worse with thunder and lightening and lots of rain overnight. Tanya hates thunder and shakes uncontrollably. She just wants to cuddle up close and safe. She really is a big teddy bear and for the first time I let her sleep on her blanket next to me on the bed as the thunder continued to rumble round the mountains. Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny and I rested in bed with a sleeping Tanya looking out to clear blue sky and snow covered mountain tops in the distance. Magnificent! We took full advantage and completed the 18km circuit of the lake via bike and walking.

A lovely ride/walk. The lake, according to a couple we met is higher than anyone has ever known due to the unseasonally warm spring causing earlier and faster than usual mountain snow melt. This was attested to by the path being quite new in places where people had to find dry ways further up the banks. It was also attested to by me, on bike with Marks and Spencers bag on the front (with my lunch in it!) and Tanya harnessed into her green plastic bucket on the back, at speed coming round a downhill corner on a smooth and exciting bit of the track and ending up in about half a metre of water with the path emerging about 10 metres ahead. Riding a doggy and lunch laden bike through deep water on a submerged mudpath is not one of the life skills that my 64 years has taught me. I must seek out a training course! Luckily I had on shorts and all terrain sandals so a quick and ungainly dismount managed to keep bike, Tanya and my lunch dry with the only casualties being my feet and legs and the lower half of the bike.

We returned to Sadie tired and wind blown but in high spirits and just before the now once again closing in weather started to dampen things. The same rain is still scudding in and no snow covered peaks in the distance were seen this morning.

A few weeks ago weather such as this 'got to me', forcing me south, agitating and frustrating me. Now however; I seem to have settled in to the fact 'it is as it is'. Tanya too. After yesterday, and this mornings early morning damp walk she is fast asleep. I have spent a very pleasant and peaceful morning just 'being as is'. I find I am in no hurry to move even though the plan is for a local visit to 'Montsegur', the last refuge of the Cathars. Well. Long may it continue.

Hmmmm! Time for coffee and lunch and then we'll review the day, or what's left of it!

- - - - - - -

23/5/12 – location – 'Montgauch' Just west of 'St Girons', Ariege.

The weather got worse. In fact a lot worse and I gather from conversations with others that east of here there has been some quite severe flooding. I'm not surprised. It is Wednesday morning now and dry but overcast. The rain did not stop until late yesterday afternoon. Quite a shock for me going back to full wet weather gear, central heating and trying to dry things after our time down in sunnier climes at the coast.

There are compensations though. The whole of the mountain top castle of 'Montsegur' to myself as no one else was crazy enough to tackle the very steep walk up to the castle on such a filthy afternoon. The castle was just a ruin . No cafe or anything like that. Not surprising really when you remember the last inhabitants were Cathars and they were under siege from the french king. Louise or something like that. The 227 Cathars, after a year of this siege finally gave in and all bar four escapees were burned at the stake at the bottom of the hill. I don't suppose I'd be very keen in setting up a cafe and restaurant after that lot. Especially as it was one hell of a rough steep path to cart everything up. Quite spooky as I struggled up to where one minute I am able to see the village of Montsegur virtually below me and the next, nothing, as the clouds rolled in reducing vision to about two metres.

The mountain rivers too. Spectacular on the circuitous and mountain pass route I took to get here from 'Lac Montbell'. I did not this time, take the really high pass as it was pretty certain to be snowed up and I don't have snow chains.

My phone should at some point round about now be arriving at the 'Office de Tourisme' in 'St Girons'. We arrived yesterday, took one look at the most unsavoury Aire on the edge of the town, or more to the point the refugee like status of an awful lot of people, vans and encampments that surrounded it, and hightailed it out to the countryside again. North about a mile up the D117, hang a left and Yup, 'Montgauch' came up trumps with a lovely little flat area by a tennis court and boules area. The local population then arrived to play 'Petang' (boules. I think that is what they call it)

“Errrr, scuse moi madame. Il est OK pour moi et motorhome remainez por une nuit?”

“Ahhhh, oui, oui, oui. Vous playez Petang eh?

“Ahhhhh, non madame.”

“Est no prroblem, Vous moi teama Ok?”

“Ahhh, Errrr, Ummmm OK!!”

So tea was left, Tanya watched with amusement as I joined Patricia's team and was shown what to do and directed where to throw my steel balls. (steady now.......they appeared out of the boot of one of the cars and are what you play the game with.) Well me and ball games that require good hand and arm co-ordination can be summed up by the word 'erratic'. However; I did manage to aquit myself reasonably well and gained inesteemable honour while much ribbing went on between the teams as, in Patricia's words, “Le champion locale” was neatly knocked out by an extremely lucky throw of mine which clinched the game for our team.

Another, older local arrived at that point who was obviously well known and loved by all so I took the opportunity to retire while the going was good. I watched the rest of the evenings games from Sadie as I prepared our much delayed evening meal. Hearty goodbyes were shouted as they all left.

And.... it did'nt rain the whole evening!

My Team. See the cheeky face of Patricia?

Spotted in St Lizier. Now there's Topiary for you!

NB.

Just picked up my package with my phone in it. Fingers crossed it will work. You'll hear later if it does.

Memories, Bruce and a full circle.

15/5/12 – Location – Port Lligat, the home of Salvador Dali, right next door to Cadaques.

“Just down there Tan, see it? Gosh we've found it after all this time.” What we had found was a beautiful and very secluded little cove/beach where Kate and I way back in 2003 had spent a few extremely pleasant afternoons. We'd flown to Girona, hired a car and were camping in our little tent. We were enchanted by this beautiful place and treated ourselves to 3 or 4 days in the Hotel Carina right on the beach where Dali's house is.

Secluded cove and ..

 At the time we had promised ourselves we would come back. Well Menorca 'got us' in a similar way over the next few years and we never made it back to Port Lligat so I am fulfilling the promise we made. Now I am actually here, tortuous road in by the way, the beauty and the unspoiltness of the place has once again got to me. The finding of the secluded beach was a real bonus. Interesting too as the way I remembered seemed to have been closed off. I had to access it the opposite way which was a much longer walk but meant I walked past the notice indicating the whole of that bit of the coast is now designated as 'Nudista Playa'. No problem to me but I just cannot shave anymore off Tanya!!

.. suitably attired too

Tanya 'aquired' us' a good wild camping spot as well. We arrived and I parked Sadie in the big empty car park right by the 'Dali' beach and the hotel Carina. We set off for a stroll / explore / re tread happy footsteps. As we walked by one of beach cafes out came Bruce to investigate Tanya. Now Bruce was a Miniture Shcnauzer too. He was almost identical to Tanya in colour and size. Not as smartly groomed as Tanya of course and checking of passports (sniffing of bums, by the two dogs!) soon established the sex difference which turned out as a no problem area and the two got on really well together. Bruce seemed to belong to the bar and everybody knew Bruce and were fascinated to see a 'lady Bruce'. Language again seemed not to be a problem especially when 'Ougooosto' appeared from within the depths of the cafe and could speak reasonable English. Seems here in Catalan they are as happy to speak English as well as Spanish as both are regarded as second languages to Catalan. “Oh no no no! Eees no good parking. They Poleeesio a checking eeeevereeee night. You must take van to beeeg area, beeeg park opposite Camping Cadaque. Eeees good there, Poleeesio ok yooo parking there.”

He was right too. I recalled Camping Cadaque was just at the top of the hill and only 5 minutes away. I remembered it as a rather tatty campsite but with good shade. Kate and I had camped there for one or two nights I think before we treated ourselves to 'Hotel Carina'. I walked round it later and it was still tatty and for a motorhome bloody expensive too. The 'beeeg area' opposite was just the job and we soon had Sadie settled in for the night.

Two lovely afternoons were spent on the beach swimming snorkelling and remembering with happiness/fondness. Of course I was suitably attired too. Not that it made any difference as not a soul was seen all the time we were there.

The first night a Dutch couple turned up in their motorhome. This often happens with wild camping. You find a good spot, somebody sees you and pulls in alongside with a; 'well if they are there it must be OK' attitude. It usually is too as was the case with 'Hilly' and 'Yasmin'. “We're just friends that go on holiday together every now and again.” I was informed. They were an OK couple and a late night was had as we chatted away in their van with Tanya and their little dog curled up and snoring together on the floor.

I'm now back in the Coulliore area having decided to come back into France and travel westwards north of the Pyrenees. So we've done a full circle and the drive from Port Lligat along the twisty coastal road to Coullioure was really quite pleasant and with stunning 'Mediterranian mountainous coastal views'. Not much traffic so we could travel at our own slow pace to enjoy the views and pull in to let any following traffic pass. I will be back to this area. It is a lovely mixture of coastal tourism but with unspoilt parts and always the option to get right away from it all up in the mountains.

Wild again and with herbs.

12/5/12 – Location – Wild camped about half a mile inside Spain South of the 'Col de Banyules' above 'Banyules sur-Mer' on the Med coast.

“That's it Tanya. I've had enough of crowded coast and campsites. Tis time you and me headed out into the wilds again and away from all these main road and coastal campsite dwellers.”

We'd had 6 nights of luxury at the 'Criques de Porteil' campsite at Collioure and then moved to the E5.50 a night Aire at Port Vendres. Very pleasant and a further 4 nights were spent there. Andy and Helen from Norfolk were there for the last 2 nights and Helens invite to join them for an evening meal of spag bog was readily accepted. Afterwards we played Skip Bo, a card game all to do with numbers and really very good. Simple too, it has to be for me!! Helen duly trounced both Andy and I.

They also had a Rapido motorhome but a different model. Slightly longer and with the very popular and reliable Fiat engine and front wheel drive. Very nice inside with a bigger lounge area and with that 'womans touch' tidyness. They decided they would like a few nights with luxury so the next morning they followed me round to 'Criques de Porteil' campsite and booked themselves in for a few days. I meanwhile bade my farewell and parked just outside the gates and briefly used the free campsite Wi Fi to catch up on my e mails. I had the access code after my stay there. Cheeky but it worked. A couple more hours were spent on the local beach, dogs allowed, swimming and snorkelling and then we were away to seek out a wild spot for the night.

Being primarily on main roads around the coast has a secondary affect. Confidence in just where Sadie can go tends to erode. Hence my present wild spot which, as far as wild spots go, is just about perfect. The photo's show a little but I am literally surrounded by mountains and perched beautifully on this level meadow with a tree right next door for shade and a little stream for clean cool water. The stream was very handy earlier as Tanya and I returned from a walk to one of the peaks where poor Tanya by the end of it had had enough. The rough stone paths had played havoc with her paws. I had to carry her the last half a mile to where we had left the bike. She of course rode back in luxury from there. She did really well as it was a very hot, long and steep walk. A strip off for a jug and bucket shower in the stream afterwards was sheer bliss. Well it certainly was for me. Tanya hot or not just does not like getting wet. It did seem to slow her 'tongue out panting' though.

Getting here did indeed put the confidence back with reference to Sadie's capabilities. Coast to 'Col de Banyules' at 350 metres high was steep, narrow, rough, twisty and such fun. We also have not seen another motorhome since we turned off the main road in Banyules sur-Mer. Yes; it may be good to have a bigger motorhome with more luxury etc etc. I personally would not have liked to attempt such a route in a vehicle any longer than Sadie and certainly not front wheel drive. Some of the bends as they wound round the steep hillside vineyards literally sat Sadie on her arse, as it were. I'm just glad rear wheel drive meant the shove and the push was right under that arse and not up at the distinctly light steering end!!

Scotland comes strongly to mind when I am in a mountain place such as this. The difference is it is now half past five, 26 degrees with a clear blue sky, no midges and Lavender, Thyme and Asparagus all around for the picking. I now know that as I have just been shown in detail what they look like and how you use them.

I was quietly writing this up when 3 walkers appeared. A man and two ladies. One lady was severely limping. They were French but enough communication was enabled for me to learn they too had walked to one of the peaks where limping lady had sprained her ankle. They had managed to get down to the road where I was while the fourth member and husband of the other lady had continued the circular route back to their car. He duly turned up about an hour later to collect them all. Meanwhile chairs were supplied from within Sadies depths and food, drink and assistance offered. The uninjured lady was searching around and collecting Thyme, Asparagus and Lavender. When I showed interest I got a full lesson how to recognize, pick and use all these herbs and I also now have a plastic bag full of them. Kettle was soon on and an expertly made thyme infusion is now in front of me and being sipped as I write. Very nice it is too. Fresh from the hillside and nothing like the 'pay me a fortune cos I'm an eco friendly infusion bag packed in a neat box which tells you how planet friendly I am.'

Tomorrow we move on again. Now; do I stay South of the Pyrenees and work Westwards or do I go back into France and go North of the Pyrenees? Too tired to work that out tonight. I also have one other 'thing to do' before I turn Westwards.

photo's of our lovely Mountain spot and ....

...... yes, we did walk that track!

Incongrouity & Snickers.

8/5/12

Location – Aire at Port-Vendres. Little bit further down the coast from Collioure. A pleasant Aire and popular with motorhomes. At Euros 5.50 per night really good value and the local Police, who collect the fees, say I am allowed to stay for up to 4 nights. Hmmmm! Y'know what....I might just do that.

Also met my first solo male motorhomer too. A 66 yr old German guy who, reading between the lines, survives his marriage by being away most of the time. He also was a very good photographer and had some amazing slide shows on his computer of all the places he had visited. Funny thing though was the fact most of the photo's included pretty young ladies and he was very enthusiastic in his description of where and when and how “seeeempleee beeeeeuuuuteeeful,” all these young ladies were. Lovely guy though and he had been travelling round for about 5years.

So off we go for a good bike walk and this is what followed.

- - - -

It was the incongruity of it that struck me. I mean, you just do not expect such beautiful Clarinet music to come wafting across a cove on a breezy day half way along a coastal walk above the Meditteranian sea in South East France. However; I think you would have had a bit of a chuckle if you happened to be a humorous God in a silent helicopter just floating above and viewing the overall situation. Stood on this steep, not quite a cliff face but nearly so, was a guy with a bike. There was a Marks and Spencers bag hanging on the front [with his lunch in it by the way] and a green plastic bucket on the rear. A dog was running along behind too wearing a harness thing with flourescent yellow tape on it. The guy had pushed / nee carried this bike up the hill and was now carefully manouvering it down this, well let's just say cliff face, toward the bottom of the cove where the only way to go was up the other side which let me tell you, was also a cliff face.

He was stopped now, holding the brakes on the bike to stop it running on down the cliff, and his head was cranked to one side and he was listening. The little dog was sat on the path, scratching herself and overall looking rather bemused and bored with this unscheduled stop on what was turning out to be a good doggy day out.

The other side of the cove which if there were a bridge across would be no distance at all, had a level area and a track leading to the ruins of an old militaty fort. Parked at this flat area was a pink VW camper van from which was emerging the beautiful Clarinet music.

You can't manufacture such moments of incongruity. They are invariably gifted you. Which is why I was stopped on the cliff face and hanging onto the bike brakes to stop it bouncing off down the cliff path. Incongruent and once in a lifetime moments such as this warrant a stopping and a few precious moments given over to just being with the incongruity. I did have my head cranked to one side in order to filter out the wind noise so I could hear the clarinet music clearly as it wafted across from the pink VW camper van. It really was very good.

I had noticed the pink camper van and it was not lost on me that was where I was headed . Muscles and my sense of balance were severely tested though before myself plus bike plus Marks and Spencers bag [with my lunch in it!!] plus big green plastic bucket finally clamberd and clattered over the top of the cliff path and onto the relatively level track and parking area where pink VW camper van was situated.

Tanya meanwhile was about ten doggy sniffs behind and up, down, smooth or rocky, it makes no difference to her. She emerged out onto the track shortly after with a look and a stance that said; 'Hey Ho! Even more doggy smells and pooh on this level track. Good day out this eh! Stevey ma man!'.

Overall I was in a good mood because we had made it without involving French air sea/cliff face rescue. I was not too exhausted either and only had one minor blood smeared scratch on my leg. Pretty good for me. Bike was left to one side and we spent a pleasant half hour exploring the old fort perched right on the cliff edge. Wonderful.

Then I just could not resist it so walked up to Pink VW camper van, politely knocked on the side and introduced myself. I was thanked for my musical appreciation and invited to sit on the little stool just outside. Rosie was a German lady with a bright and sparky, almost impish looking face who spoke good English. The Pink VW camper van was her home. Which, by the way, made me think what on earth am I doing travelling around in a luxurious, all mod cons, bungalow on wheels when a simple van such as this suffices.?

Rosie was well known locally as a musician and earned her keep by playing on the front in Collioure and also by selling little flutes she made herself. She was a lady very much in touch with, and at home with, the beauty of her surroundings and her own 'artistic' place within them. A pleasant half hour was spent chatting with her as she prepared her salad and noodle lunch while sitting cross legged on the floor of her van with a simple gas stove in front of her.

We bid our farewells and set off once again further up the hill to the highest part of the ruins where Tanya and I enjoyed the gastric delights of our Marks and Spencers bag. Nothing too exciting I can assure you. Apart from the Snickers bar to re fuel my energy. As we rested and sheltered from the sea breeze behind one of the old walls I pondered on my own good fortune. Clarinet music, beautiful day and surroundings, impromtu and rewarding meeting with another human being and to top it all, a Snickers bar. You don't get much better than that in this life!!

Campsites, decisions & New Look.

5/5/12

'Les Criques De Porteils' Campsite just between Argeles sur-Mer and Collioure. A lovely campsite with on the Collioure side all the beauty of the mountainous terrain where the Pyrenees finally meet the sea and on the Argeles-sur-Mer side the start of the long flat sandy beaches of the River Tech plains.

This is my 5^th night here and as such fulfilling my plan of just stopping for a few days and relaxing. I've got an ACSI card which is a fixed price contract for any sites in the ACSI book of campsites throughout Europe. It does not operate in the high season but at these off peak times it is good value for money. It certainly is a nice change having all the facilities, toilets, hot showers, mains hook up and shop on site plus internet. All washing is now up to date and I now have clean clothes to wear and crisp air dried bedding.

Tanya is once again fully groomed, clean and looking really well. I got quite an audience of neighbouring motorhomers watching the grooming operation and in particular the use of the elctric shearing clippers. I must have been doing pretty well as I was requested to do someone elses dog. This dog was a large and lively labrador whose parentage at some stage had involved a cross with the shaggiest of shaggy mammoths. It certainly could have done with a shampoo and a clipping but I politely declined the owners seemingly tongue in cheek request. Thankfully it was accepted as such and a good humoured conversational 'Tanya Shearing' continued.

Cloudy today but we have enjoyed a few days of beautiful sunshine on this high and westerly facing pitch overlooking the sea and the town of Argeles-sur-Mer. Today we are relaxing after two days of strenuous exercise. We walked the hills and vineyards to the imposing hilltop forts overlooking Collioure while yesterday we cycled all the way out to Cap Bear beyond the next village of Port-Vendres and climbed to the hill top fort above that. Hard work going up but yesterday it was exhilarating coming back down on the bike. Only problem is this camp site is on a hill so whichever way you go the last bit is always uphill.

When on a campsite such as this there is also the double whammy of meeting other people, or I should say couples for that is what they invariably are. Usually there is a fair smattering of English speaking available and this campsite has been no exception. I say double whammy as on the one hand it is mentally rewarding being able to chat away and listen to other couples adventures and lives. On the other hand it is hard maintaining the OK'ness about 'not being a couple' if that makes sense. The majority of the time there is no problem but I do notice that a glass or two of wine has an uncanny ability to rip away any emotional equanimity or stability. Last night was a typical example with, after a glass of wine and a very pleasant hour spent with Ian and Julie, my temporary neighbors, I was quite affected later. My tired and slightly alcohol affected mind fetched out all the memories of past holidays with Kate etc etc etc. Difficult. Thankfully a good nights sleep always refreshes the mind. The equanimity/stability, or facility to cope with whatever, was back on line this morning. Which is more than I can say for the campsites internet which has been down since last night.

I have also been pondering over how to organize the problem of my defunct Mobile phone. I have sent it back to my son Mark in Swindon, UK, for it to be returned to HTC, repaired and returned to my son's. I was then going to get it sent down to a friends home in Spain and travel down to there to collect it. However; I have now decided to change plans again. I looked at the map and pondered to myself; 'that is quite a long way down the Spanish coast.' This is quite relevant at this stage of my Journey where the original rough plan was to spend May and June slowly working my way back toward the UK. Going down the Spanish coast also involves passing Barcelona. On enquiring at the local tourist office I was surprised to be advised in no uncertain terms a UK registered motorhome with a single occupant would be a prime target for the criminal gangs rife around the area. This was unfortunately reinforced by a couple on this campsite who a few days earlier had a nasty incident at a rest spot quite a way from Barcelona where they were lucky to be rescued from a complete robbery by a van driver who pulled in a few minutes later. As you can imagine it was very traumatic for them.

Basically it would mean a long detour and really, I do not have to do it. So I have now made the decision for the remainder of this trip to stay in France. I'll tackle Spain and Portugal from the West coast next Winter.

Anyway; with my new look there might be quite a bit of bother if I had to produce my passport!!!!

Donkeys & 'We have a problem Houston!'

29/04/2012- Canet-en-Rousillon.

I bent slightly to look out of Sadies side window and could not believe what I saw. I did however, immediately understood the commotion going on outside.

We were parked high above the village of St Miche-de Llotes. This is just off the N116 from Mont-louis which is high in the Pyrenees. We had spent the previous couple of nights up in the mountains. It had been one hell of a drive up there and one hell of a drive down. Exhausting but spectacular, which is why we had hung a right in the foothills before we reached Perpingan. We needed a perch for the night. Exhausting but spectacular involves driving a 3.5ton van with a house on it's back close to the edge of a hunking great cliff. Now; Sadie is Right Hand drive which means the driver, me, keeping her correctly positioned on the road by purposefully positioning myself where I start to 'brown trouser' as it feels like, and looks like we are just about to go over the edge. I now appreciate passenger nervousness on such journeys where they are the ones closest to the edge. Sadie does have a tendency to wander as well so it is pretty hard work and the only way to really enjoy the stunningly beautiful, awesome but highly vertiginous view is to go slow. This of course annoys the drivers behind (no secondary road this!) so I have to continually pull in to the, thankfully frequent, lay bys and passing places. And guess what? The worst were the tourist coaches which, when let by went hurtling off ahead screeching round the steep zig zag downhill chicane. God knows what state the passengers on the right hand side were in. Wonder if the seats were brown coloured?!

So we spent one night recovering in the main square of St Michel-de-Llotes and next morning did a walk up into the hills and discovered a cracking wee wild camping spot up a forest track. It was pretty steep but accessible and with a lovely little spring at the first zig zag to top up Sadie's water supply. I just could not resist it. Plus Tanya needed a break from driving. I think she gets, or is developing, travel sickness. She is often off her food after we have had a couple of days of mainly driving. And yesterdays drive. Well that was enough to make anybody sick.

That was Saturday. It is now Sunday morning after a peaceful night and an excellent long walk/bike on up the forest track to the top of one of the hills. Brilliant! We just kept going as long as it was up hill cos I knew the ride down was going to be soooo easy. I was not mistaken but many more rides down rough steep forest tracks like that and not only will the bike need new brake pads but Tanya will need a new bum. She loves it I think. She sits there harnessed in and at times she must be nearly bounced out of her green charabang. I dare not ever try to look round or all would be lost. Bike, Tanya and me would be spreadeagled in trees off the edge of a cliff!

I diverse. Back to the commotion. I downed tea towel and wet cutlery, leaped out of Sadie and shouted for Tanya to come to heel. She is usually pretty good with that command but not so keen when protecting her territory from an invasion of Donkeys who themselves were panicking and being pushed hard down the forest track towards us by a group of cyclists behind them.

There was now outside of Sadie at this wide turning point cum junction of two forest tracks a group of 'all dressed up for the Tour de-France' cyclists skidding wildly all over the place in their effort to avoid running into the donkeys and each other. The Donkeys meanwhile had a new problem. They not only had cyclists behind and among them. They also had a small wild black thing in front of them barking wildly and running between their legs in her enthusiasm not to let them anywhere near 'OUR HOME' but to send them right back up the track from whence both they and cyclists had appeared.

For a moment or two it was bloody hilarious. A big milling mass of brightly coloured cyclists at odd angles who were making a wonderful job of creating a cloud of dust with their rear wheels. Then there was this bunch of irate and stressed wild donkeys with a manic dog darting about among them. This dog was herself being shouted at in a foreign language by some guy standing in the middle of a big quiet French Pyrenean forest in front of a solitary, completely unexpected and, in Donkey language; “wot the brayyyyin hell is that” as they faced up to Sadie the motorhome.

Like most of these instances it all happens in a few seconds. Cyclists gathered themselves and disappeared off down the track with a few french obscenity's floating in the air behind them. Tanya did come to heel and seemed to be quite pleased with herself for being the centre of attention of such mayhem. The donkeys. Well they quickly settled down and in fact stayed around for a bit and as the photo shows, made friends with Tanya, well up to a point anyway!

“Gotta write that down” I says and reach for mobile phone. Press switch, no response. Hmmmmm! 'we gotta problem Houston.' thinks I. Well it seems my 7mnth old super duper smart phone. My main communication medium plus my sat nav is majorly KAPUT. Nothing I have tried gets a glimmer of response from it. So what do you do when at just about the most South Easterly part of France your UK mobile phone does a 'F**k you I've had it!' and shuts down?

First off is not to panic ….. AAAAAAArrrrrrgh!!!!!! …....... Then think of a plan......Oh God....Not bloody plans again!!

Panic did not happen and plan is in action. I've got it in mind to stop for a week at a camp site a bit further south. So we have moved to Canet-en-Rousillon right on the coast East of Perpignan ready for tomorrow, Monday, when we will head off in search of a mobile phone shop. On the way I did manage a coffee in the local McDonalds and availed myself of their WI FI to e mail family re lack of communication.I also sent in a fault report to HTC to see if they have any ideas why phone has downed tools and gone home. Bet I don't hear much from them!

Update Tues May 1^st from 'Les Criques de Porteils' campsite (with WI FI – whoopee!) between Argeles Plage and Collioure on the Med coast.

Seems phone will have to go back to UK for repair. Internet indicating major hardware problem with the power on switch. Process for returning it....nightmare....Ah well and Ho Hum eh!

First things first though. Laundry tomorrow and then bath and trim one grubby but well healthy dog. Then it's basically take it easy for a few days here at this lovely campsite overlooking the Med one way and the foothills of the Pyrenees the other. There are Brits here too. Ahhhh, conversation! It'll do me for a few days!