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? … !!!!!

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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!

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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.

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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!

Gorges & a telling off...in French.

"I like this place Tanya." I've noticed this several times as we have travelled round and stopped in different places. A feeling, of  OK'ness or comfort in some places whereas in others you get an uncomfortable feeling. If its the latter we usually move on pretty quickly. This place though, I like. Belvianes et-Cavirac is a very small village just 3km south of Quillan. We arrived last night and a large, flat and empty square next to the church invited us to park right at the edge overlooking the pretty red tiled roofs of the village and out across to the steep, green and scrub covered large hills on the opposite side of the valley. It was warm and sunny and as usual there were very few people about and those that were took no notice or greeted you with a cheery "Bonjour".

I do not worry any more whether I'm supposed to be where we are or not and we settled in for the night. This is a leisurely affair with initially a little time spent levelling up Sadie and checking we're not obstructing in any way. I usually have a look around as well to see whether our presence overnight is overly invasive of anyone's privacy. All's well and usually by this time I'm getting pawing on my foot reminding me of a certain little dog's impatience and eagerness to explore this new location. She is very good and never goes running off on her own unless I get distracted and don't take notice of her request for exploring time.

The exploring here at B et C comprised a slow and leisurely amble around the narrow alleyways of this delightful small village perched as it is on the steep valley side. This leisurely stroll has an ulterior motive too. In this case I was not looking for a more suitable local spot to move Sadie too. Often on previous 'settling in' walks a better location is found and Sadie duly moved. What we did find on this walk, and what I regularly look for now, were the local fountains/taps where we could top up with water and the local public toilets, which invariably are clean,  respectable and working. These I have used on several occasions to empty 'the Telford'.

A good night was had. Very peaceful. A civilised rising, breakfast and then off we went for our planned walk up and onto the high part of the steep gorge we would later be driving through. (see photos) Excellent walk although extremely steep and literally on the vertiginous edge of the gorge.

We arrived back at Sadie suitably exhausted to be jovially met with a "Bonjour" from a very rat faced but charming middle aged lady.  I think she was boss lady of the village or whatever. She spoke rapidly in French for some time and I picked up enough words to understand two things. Firstly;I was getting my first, and very good humoured, slap on the wrist for overnighting in the village square. Secondly; I was welcome to stay in the village but would I mind moving to the cemetery where there was a big open area for parking. Well I thought it all rather nice and my mixture of mime, odd French words and beaming smile seemed to be doing the trick and eliciting ratty faced and yellow teethed smiles of agreement.

Tanya then appeared from behind Sadie and worked her charm too with Mrs rat faced yellow toothed official crouching down to speak universally understood doggie language. She of course received the obligitory hand lick from her lady dogship.

We all parted on good terms and it was not long before the tarmac was rolling beneath Sadies wheels and we were on our way down through the very gorge we had walked above earlier.

Boy oh boy and what a trip. I mean, I have done French windy up through the gorges and into the mountains roads before. The D118 from Axat is just that and more. Sadie being a 3.5ton 7ft wide motorhome is definitely not a car. I found it really enjoyable and a lot of fun but it required full concentration, a lot of 3rd gear work and the ability to drive with one or two millimetres only separating edge of wing mirror and rock face.

We finally reached:-

La Creu, 66210 Fontrabiouse, France

This is the Col, or top of the hill and is at a height about 1900mtrs. I was exhausted but we stumbled on a grotto or cave tourist attraction with a nice large car park and stunning views of the snow covered mountains

I quite fancy doing a cave visit and this looks a good one. So with a promise to be there for the 1030 am trip tomorrow they were quite happy to let us overnight in their car park.

All in all a good and busy day made all the more pleasant by a warm shorts and sandal type temperature and clear blue sky. Ahhhhh! Now that's more like it!

Pyreneen foothills & vets.

1 Sous la Serre, 

11240 Routier, France

Well that was last nights location anyway. Lovely little village but the Aire was at the top of the hill with none of it's services working. In particular the facility to deal with 'the Telford!' There was also a hooley blowing which turned into heavy overnight rain. This after some promising warm early morning sunshine near Toulouse where we had wild camped overnight.

Tanya was not quite right either. Nothing major just a bit lethargic and the odd wee cough which is just not Tanya. "OMG!" Goes I and promptly start winding myself up with the worst of scenarios. I'd done the google bit and there was no two ways about it. I had neglected the Front Line treatment which had allowed ticks and fleas to get on board and have a crackin good jumpin and blood suckin party.

"That's it! She's done for. She'll have all those hunreds n hunreds of ticky flea parasite thingeymajigs surfin all her red blood cells now till they decide to take retirement in liverland or kidneyvillage or somewhere where she's gonna be a gonna. OMG! OMG!"

To cut a long story short it was not a good night or morning. Once again I had to resort to 'action' to sort things out. "A plan, that's what I need. A plan!" Now, and I think I've said this before, I'm not to good at planning. This situation though demanded the attention of a non anxious and logically sane mind. OK; so a calming meditation dealt with the anxiety but the 'logical sane' bit? Ha! You gotta be joking. I challenge anyone. Have you ever seen Steve, logic and Sane in the same room together?

A plan however did emerge. I had decided that to relieve anxiety and also to be sensible Tanya did need to be checked out by a Vet. (££££££ - Gulp!) I had also decided we are going to keep going South till we do hit this elusive blob in the sky they call sun.

Now here's the good bit. Once Sadie's wheels were powered up and spittin tarmac, out came the sun! Ok; so I am now poorer with Aprils budget seriously challenged. Vet bills here also have the ability to numb and shock. On the plus side though the sun is still shining and just sinking behind these Pyrenean foothills surrounding the town of Quillan. A lovely warm evening and a quiet spot for the night right on the edge of the town by the rushing river Aude.

The vet was excellent. Another plus. He did all tests and examinations on the spot. He found a slight raising of something or other to do with liverland.  I revert straight back to OMG! and told you so did'nt I as I stood there with Tanya leaning heavily against me on the examination table. 

"Them little jumpin blood suckin b*****s! Well Haaa!" Says I. "Oi'll ave yu cos I've now got vitnary medicine and them injections wot vitnary done is gonna do for you lot good n proper like. See!"

To be fair he did say tick n flea infections are very common in France and it was a good early observation of symptoms on my part. It did of course also allow him to practice his English, dispense loads of medication and charge me a fortune. No matter. Tanya is worth every penny.

And the anxiety relief? Well; when I used to gently challenge my Counselling clients to name a price they would be willing to pay to be free of a particular worry or anxiety. 

A; it made them think and invariably comment they had never thought of in that way before. And 

B; The price they did come up with was of course an awful lot of money.

We stayed in Quillan and this morning did a super walk/climb to Pic de Bitrague which towers above the town. It was not what I had planned for the day but Tanya had a couple of nasty coughing bouts in the night so a shorter walk and staying local to the vet seemed a sensible course of action. As it turned out she was fine so this afternoon we've moved 3km to:-

Impasse de la Fount Vieille, 11500 Belvianes-et-Cavirac, France

We are parked in the deserted village square where we'll overnight and tomorrow do the originally planned 'Belvedere du Diable'. Looks a lovely 8km walk/steep climb!

Oh! And I'm fed up of the pink baler twine keeping my curtains in place. When I saw some yellow ribbon in a shop.....weeeell. I've just got to remember my Navy days now and tie some sexy looking bows!!

Fleas and Buddha

"Bloody hell Tanya I'm just going to have to give the pedal some wellie and hope we make it!" Such was my entrance to Plum Village Buddhist Centre and home to Thich Nhat Han (or 'Thai'). A venerated and well known exiled Vietnamese monk.

There followed a bumpy ride through a very muddy gateway and across a car park - read upwardly sloping soaking wet grassy field - to the highest and hopefully driest point. Good old Sadie. With a bit of side slipping and skidding she made it and this is now where we are perched until tomorrow morning when hopefully the downward slope will help facilitate a not too indelicate exit. The last two days have been wet though. Thoroughly wet. Thankfully this is a wine growing area and the land is light stony soil which although slippery on the top is firm and solid underfoot.

For 3 years I meditated with a Thich Nhat Han 'Interbeing' group in Glasgow. I was looking forward to visiting his community and once again spending a little time meditating with a community as opposed to solitary practice.

As usual Tanya necessitated compromises. This is a full Monastic community. These guys are serious monastics and 'into' community.  They are also very friendly and accommodating within the boundaries of their practice. I knew that dogs were not allowed within the centre. Hence my depositing 'us' in the, 'outside of the community' parking/camping field which is a lovely peaceful west facing location from which we have had 2 wonderful walks and one long and extremely muddy bike excursion. It really is a very picturesque area. Just a pity about the weather!

That is where the fleas come in. The centre and grassy field cum car park are on the top of a hill with a steep bank at the edge at the bottom of which is a large badger set where the vineyard starts to stretch away on down the slope.

To me it looked deserted but it stretched a long way along the bottom of the bank. I have a suspicion Mr Chateaux Vineyard owning Frenchie does not suffer the same, shall we say 'sensitivities', as farmers in the UK when it comes to large communities of night working, 'excavator supreme' black and white furry vermin.

What I do know is that our furry friends homes, which are often used by other furry creatures too, are usually full of little guys called fleas who of course find the regular passing by of furry creatures a superb taxi and mobile home service.

So; as I arrived breathless at the bottom of the bank still calling "Tanya" she was nowhere to be seen. It never occurred to me that my sweet little well groomed and cuddly Tanya would dive in to a Badger set tunnel after some unmentionable smell or furry being.

I soon figured out that is just what she had done and I had started to resign myself to the inevitable. I figured if Mr Badger plus his mates were down there Tanya was in big trouble. Then; all of a sudden, up she pops all a shaking and flapping her ears. I dived and grabbed her back leg as she attempted a second dissapearing act off down another tunnel. She was not happy at that and it took several minutes of dragging her away from the set before the madness started to leave her.

Then I actually saw what a state she was in.  Filthy, to put it mildly, jumping with fleas and with 2 more ticks in her ears! I tell you. That has been a wee challenge to deal with in a motorhome. Also a lesson learned and acknowledgement of the fact a Schnauzer, underneath the black fur and fancy beard is really a Terrier at heart and loves nothing better than an underground rat, cat, or fox chase and to boot if there is something down there that's been dead for about 6 weeks, they'll eat it!! I know, it came back up later. Luckily outside of Sadie.

Settling down to evening communal meditation and chanting after such a day, was also challenging. But good. Today, although wet, has been much better. We've managed 2 long walks, last of the fleas got their marching orders this morning (I think!) and this evenings meditation practice was 'the business!.

Next day.

That's it! We're on the road again and heading SSE to warmer climes. We were up early this morning in order to join the convoy to 'New Hamlet' where Thai, just back from his tour of the UK and Ireland, was giving a meditation/teaching. The journey was about 25km and New Hamlet is a female community.

Mmmmm. It was good. In fact it was very special receiving a teaching amid this large community, from someone who has had a big influence on both my practice and my journey. I need, in one form or another,  to regularly touch base spiritually. Throughout my years of counselling I found the same applies for most human beings. The way spirituality appears though is different for each individual. It knows no boundaries and never ceases to amaze me with it's infinite creativity.

The teaching/meditation was a good two hours and by the time I returned to Sadie the barking reminded me little dogs have spiritual needs too. And I'm her God/Guru/Guy who feeds me!!
Soooo; a quick walk and a sad exit from Plum Village Buddhist community. I have a feeling I will be back.

I'm not particularly a community type guy and I enjoy my solitary travel, adventures and meditation. It's just good to touch base with the Sangha (Community) every now and again.

It is also good to touch base with blue skies and warm sun. So Med coast here we come.

A wheelchair toting Motorhome

Thénac, France

David is the 75yr old husband of Ann, a paraplegic of 41 years. The original trauma was car related where they both got run over with Ann left close to death.  David is also a Morris dancer of many years

 "We both loved dancing and when I couldn't dance with my wife any more, well I didn't want to dance with other women, so I decided I would dance with men."

They both come from Jersey and as you can see from the photos have a motorhome adapted for wheelchair use.

Now my intention this morning was to get going quickly and early. (ha ha! some hope Stevey boy seeing as you have developed this strange habit of still being in bed at  well past back of eight o clock) 

I was moving on from 'Les Deux Vallees' campsite. However; meeting a couple such as Ann and David quickly pushes aside any 'plan for the day' and I am soon, and willingly, engaged in 'the fascinating experience' of someone else's life.

"Look how this works" says David as he demonstrates the rear mounted wheelchair lift which neatly folds and with a gentle electric motor whine disappears to its stowage underneath the Motorhome. Ann meanwhile is able to move to the front of the Motorhome where she transfers to the swivelling front passenger seat. 

She then, as she puts it, "Am settled and can order David to do everything else."

They travel from one wheel chair friendly site to another. Ann's rating for 'Les Deux Vallees? "Adequate but cold!" Well; it was rotten weather this morning and cold for all of us so called 'campers".

They were also proud grandparents (They had 2 young children at the time of the accident) and played me the cd of their grandson who, and I wholeheartedly agree after listening and being spellbound, was a remarkably gifted young chorister.

I've always said this journey is more about having, or collecting if you like, experiences. Well. You don't get better experiences than meeting and listening, for however long it takes, people such as David and Ann and the many others I have described throughout these blog entries.

This morning though that was not the end of the story. Take your mind back a little. Remember when I was in Brittany and people were arriving to gather the shellfish etc because it was a particularly high tide. At the time I did mange to gather and eat a couple of oysters for myself but wished I knew more about it so I could join in the fun too. I'd promised myself to look out a book on it when I got back to the UK. I'd seen a French one but couldna make head nor tail of it being written in the foreign n all that.

So; what a surprise to learn this activity is called 'Low Water Fishing' and the David I was talking too happened to be David Le Maistre author of 'Low Water Fishing, an islanders pursuit'.

He had been persuaded by his best friend, who incidentally did all the wonderful pencil illustrations in the book, to write down his vast knowledge and humorous anecdotes of this pursuit learned over a lifetime around the shores of Jersey. The book is exactly what an old, mad, landlubber, agricultural muckspreader selling peasant like me needs. Especially if his madness should require him to supplement his diet with winkles and cockles and slippery worms from the sand. Some of which can bite you it is reported! 

I tell you; synchronicity, coincidences, universal communication, God, call it whatever you like. They are coming at me thick and fast. I want a particular and quite obscure book one day. A few weeks later one particular and quite obscure book (one published run of 1000) is presented to me at a caravan site in the Dordogne valley by the author himself. Not bad eh! He was not slow mind you but I willingly paid him the £6.95 recommended price for the one spare copy he had.

And the days plan? Yes that worked too. My arrival though, at 'Plum Village' was a little later than planned. More on that later.

Hanging about.

Le Pradal, 24250 

Domme, France

I mean it is a very nice area to be hanging about in and over the last few days we have visited and enjoyed some quintessential picture postcard Dordogne villages. A popular area with the Brits too with English speaking people popping up everywhere. I've enjoyed lots of conversations and; "Oh! You must go to ...... etc, etc."

The weather is iffy though and I have made the decision to go south again toward Perpignon where the forecast for the next few weeks shows more promise. So I'm sort of itching to get on.

Hanging about is what I have got to do though for a few days yet. My credit card expires in May and they would not allow me to extend the 'end by date' before I left the UK. The new card duly landed on the doorstep at Chris and Michelles in East Kilbride (Son in Law) some days ago. It has now been sent on by Chris to the campsite I was recently at. Chris was informed it should take about 3 days. We are now on day 5 and it has not arrived. I am not particularly worried as I translated 3 days as meaning about 7. So another couple of days to go yet before I touch those; 'Uh ho! What's happenin here,' feelings.

We are not too far from the campsite tonight. I'm wild parked on the edge of Domme. I'm on a tiny flat bit of land where locals have been dumping rubble (not black plastic bag rubbish, you just do not see that here in rural France.) And there is a big notice plonked there by the Mayor threatening hell and dammnation to anyone caught dumping. Not sure whether one large white Rapido motorhome counts as rubbish or not. No one seems in the least bit concerned though.

The rain is lashing down and I just hope it goes off tomorrow morning and allows us to walk into and explore the Bastide town of Domme which is a 10 minute walk away.

..........

We did. Did manage our walk all round Domme. Well worth it too. We also got back to Sadie just before the rains really set in. No matter. For I am now on the campsite warm and snugly with new credit card all done and dusted.

Gonna be moving on again tomorrow. Not immediately South. I have one more visit to make before I head for sunnier climes.

Cold feet & coicidences

Well I was never so glad as to be able to pull a pair of thick socks on and feel my feet thawing and slowly coming back to life.

This was our second day at Rocamadour  (the place grows on you.) The sun was shining and Tanya and I were off up the deep gorge to see how far we could get. Bike was unloaded and we set off with me in shorts and sandals in warmish morning sunshine. A fun time was had too. The good track soon petered out into footpath and then after the second set of old milll ruins into narrow and not very 'push a bike' friendly footpath at all. By this time shorts and all terrain sandals had really proved themselves crossing, (meaning wading plus carrying/pushing said bike) the swiftly flowing babbling brook type stream several times. The bike was finally abandoned and we gave ourselves fifteen minutes to walk on before turning back. We managed to reach the third and by far the largest of the old, ruined and abandoned mills.

The weather was by now changing. My feet, now in wet all terrain sandals and with prospect of further stream crossings ahead, were starting to feel 'not warm!'

Several times we crossed paths with a young Australian couple on one of these trecking holidays where your baggage is transported for you from hotel to hotel. The girl was Thai and did not want to get her new shiny boots wet. Crossing the stream was a problem. I helped her negotiate one crossing by wading in while holding her hand as she gingerly negotiated some rather widely spaced and slippery stepping stones. Great fun (she was very pretty!!)

They went on ahead as we reached where I had left the bike. I put my caggle on (thin waterproof) which helped as the weather was now distinctly cool and occasionally raining. The luxury of the steep but dry diversions were not available to me with bike so I had to push on and ford the stream several more times. Feet were now not part of this world. They definitely did not belong to me. I mean I've never had a set of feet that are so peely-wally white that the only respectable place for them is sticking out the end of a sheet in a morgue!

The final insult to them was wind chill. My exit route placed me at the top of Rocamadour with Sadie being at the bottom. Tanya and I both enjoyed that exhilarating ride down the twists and turns of the cliff hugging descent.

My feet?

Hmmmm! They gave, on the way down, some sort of sensation which, if translated into words, painted me in a very bad light and warned me that being footloose and fancy free was just about to take on a very different significance.

My poor old feet did finally respond to more suitable attire and were then placed in smart shoes which along with jeans and clean jumper rendered me a handsome boy indeed. I was now ready for a good dinner plus wine in a lovely little restaurant in Rocamadour. I had previously lunched there and Tanya was allowed inside.

On the way down I knocked on another restaurant window and pleasant waves were exchanged with the Australian couple I had met earlier. I did'nt go in as I figured their romantic evening would not necessarily be enhanced by the invasion of a sixty four year old male last seen with a small dog, looking like a wild man and who had weirdly coloured feet and insisted on carrying a bike across streams deep in a forested French ravine.

As I walked on I mused to myself on the fact this was the second meeting with a pretty Thai female. The day before I had been stumped by not having a two euro coin for the turnstile onto Chateaux du Rocamadour's impressive and vertigineous ramparts. A young couple behind me were not able to change a note for me but the charming and very pretty Thai girlfriend very kindly paid the two euros for me.
How do I know she was from Thailand you ask? Well we managed a limited conversation as we admired the stunning views from the ramparts.

I arrived at the restaurant. Excellent meal was consumed along with a small carafe of wine. I left the restaurant very pleasantly inebriated with two fellow diners Rick and Teresa. They were from South Derbyshire but Rick had lived and worked in Toulouse for ten years. Teresa was, and wait for it, Thai. Yes. My third encounter with Thailand in just two days. More musing upon 'meaning of coincidence' for later methinks! Teresa had a Thai mother, was born in the UK but had been raised in Thailand. They'd been married for twenty nine years and were on a weeks holiday to the area.

They were also convivially inebriated and a pleasant walk up the hill to their hotel was enjoyed. Much of it backwards as we viewed the illuminated Chateaux. Farewells were then exchanged and Tanya and I staggered on to Sadie, conveniently parked at the Chateaux, and a welcome comfy bed.

These things pay you back don't they! No headache but a bit tired and irritable on waking. Not the day to realise you only have one half full gas bottle. Plan A. Drive to nearest LPG outlet only to find they've run out. Plan B did work but a frustrating day comprising a big unnecessary circular main road route of eighty five km. Tanya's dis-approval of the whole charade was vomited up by the door half way round!

Hmmmm! Maybe stay clear of the wine for a bit me thinks.

Bad day for Tanya & Rocamadour.

Rocamadour, France

I'd seen and marvelled at them soaring overhead along the ridge. According to Andy, My recent folk singing retired teacher friend, a couple of days ago, they were most likely to be Eagle Owls. He had also said there had been reports of them sometimes taking small dogs. "Yeah, yeah!" Thinks me. "I can just see that. Maybe one on a bit of the good stuff and who is a bit wobbly on the wing and can't tell a rabbit from a Miniature Shnauzer but hey, come on!"

So. When the sudden and unexpected  WHOOSH! Came, I instinctively and instantly jerked downwards uttering a sharp cry which thankfully Tanya must have heard as; "stop now, RIGHT NOW, cos there's a hulking great airborne maniac that thinks you're today's main course and he's just about on top of you!"

She was only about two or three metres in front of me but she too was surprised. Again more by the silent whooshing noise I think. So much so that she jumped up, whirled round a couple of times and gave a couple of vigorous barks which for Tanya is most unusual.

Now whether she was on the menu. Whether my shouting had slightly changed the odds and delinquent brown and very large bird had diverted at the last minute I do not know. Whether Tanya was actually 'liftable' by such a bird? again I will never know. It could just have been the case of two rather large and delinquent brown birds high aloft and one saying to the other. "watch this. I'm going to scare the shit out of those two below. That should git them off of our patch and let the rabbits come back out!"

Well it worked. We had wild parked Sadie right by the riverside, in the rain. Clouds had cleared and we had set off for a walk up a track into the woods. The track was steep and worked up through the forest. I had seen the pair of soaring and majestic Eagle owls (?) through the forest canopy. The close encounter came as we emerged onto an open meadow at the top of the hill.

I tell you. Our walk continued but we remained in the forest after that! One of the birds continued for a time to soar directly overhead, watching us and no doubt calling to his partner. "hey, hey Eddie. I got em. Buggers won't mess up our patch again!"

Unfortunately Tanya had another nasty scare later in the evening. Only about three hundred metres away from Sadie. A very quiet back road and we were just having a brief stroll before shutting up shop for the night.

"what the hell.....!!" Two vicious collies had suddenly come hurtling out of a driveway, bowled Tanya over and were just skidding sharply round, lips back and fangs showing, to have another go. Tanya, bless her, and before I could get to her, was back on her feet and defending herself. I  waded in and sharply booted the one slightly less agggressive collie out the way. I then hoiked Tanya out of it by the scruff of her neck and raised elbow to fend off bigger and more determined collie.

Thankfully the commotion had brought a female running from the nearby house whose shouting immediately turned large aggressive collie into slinking away, tail between legs, doggie who nevertheless was giving backward glances from an evil eye which was no doubt saying. "I'll get y next time runt!"

The only thing to do on such occasions, especially when you don't speak the language, is to shout a;  "Est OK, est OK," beat a hasty retreat while keeping a sickly but rigid smile in place, and keep waving bye bye while bringing under control adrenalin fuelled thoughts that in effect.... want to kill the bitch! (Owner of Collie, not Collie. Not a skooby whethet Collie was bitch or dog!)

Tanya was shaky for a while but careful examination confirmed no damage and within half an hour all was a distant and forgotten memory. She was snoring away on my lap after a couple of her special chews.

Today has been more peaceful. A very pleasant day in fact, spent at Rocamadour. Look it up on the web. A lovely meal in one of the many restaurants where Tanya was allowed inside. Again wettish and dull outside. And twice I came out of visiting the sanctuary chapels to find her the centre of attention where I left her secured to the railings. One with a family with two children and the second time with a group of Japanese tourists.

We are wildcamped nearby tonight. Rocamadour is, and I have to agree with all of you who have told me, a spectacular visual experience with it's Chateaux perched on the cliff top. We are going back for more tomorrow.

Oh!  And the only danger we faced all day was the temptation to buy from all the tat shops up and down the narrow alley ways. Yup! A much better day.

Folk singers & moving on.

The song 'In the early morning rain' has always been my favourite folk song. The original was written and sung by Gordon Lightfoot. My all time favourite version was by Peter Paul and Mary way back in the sixties.

Well it gets to be a perfect ending to a very good day when you find yourself sitting in the warm evening sunshine, glass of wine in hand, and listening to Andy Slater's liquid smooth voice singing that very song while beautifully accompanying himself on the guitar. 'Carrick Fergus'. Will ye go lassie go' of Joan Baez fame, plus many others were on the menu of this retired Hebden Bridge teacher who, I now know, is an excellent and well known folk musician. 

Andy and his wife Jane have made the stay at 'Les deux Vallees' campsite, Vezac, over Easter, which included my birthday, a time not to be forgotten. (A thanks here also for all the e mails, texts, & e cards I received. They meant a lot to me.) Evenings were spent together with convivial glasses of vino with Andy not only giving us some beautiful folk music but also regaling us with stories of his folk gigs and friends; his wonderful home and concert venue and of course his family. Also many stories of  his long career as a primary school headmaster. What a head that man has. Full to the brim of folk songs, stories and enough facts and educational ability to rival the mighty Google himself. Fascinating and lovely couple. Hebden Bridge is now another destination on my 'to visit' list.

Today though was moving on time so tonight we are once again wild camping by the river. It is quite difficult to move after a few days in one place. Feelings of familiarity, comfort and safety flood in suprisingly quickly. They start to build 'attachment'. Add in good company and an iffy weather outlook then leaving becomes emotionally taxing.

Not for long though. A few miles of Sadie's wheels rolling. A getting back into the 'us' of the three of 'us' together on the road with new adventures ahead and any emotional tugging is soon left behind.

Put it this way. I'm quite happy seated here, as I am now, comfy, warm and writing this while another mighty shower beats the hell out of Sadie's roof.

And Tanya? I hear you ask.  Awwww go on.... Yu did really didn't yu! Well she is snoring away on her bed on the swivelled round drivers seat after a good tea. She loves a pudding too. Cornflakes and some yoghurt. Not exactly a dogs diet but my goodness it does produce some lovely firm and healthy looking dog crap!! Bet you're glad you asked now eh!

Birthday Boy

"There's all my big birthday plans out the window then eh Tan!"

My big birthday plan was to be on a nice campsite, relaxed and enjoying the sun with a nice glass of Rose wine before a good evening meal.

Hmmmmm! Best laid plans an all that! Although to be fair I am on a nice campsite with a beautiful view of the magnificent Beynac Chateaux right there in front of me. 

It's just that there is no sunshine. In fact after last nights heavy thunder and gales I am amazed Sadie, awning, and us are still here this morning. I also have a headache, Tanya's been sick, I can't dry my washing, the so say 'wi fi' access on this campsite does'nt seem to work and the weather forecast says the bad weather is here for the next few days. 

Enough to make a guy feel quite low don't you think? Especially when it happens to be your sixty fourth birthday. Well that is exactly where I was headed this morning. Down and low. We got up to a dull grey drizzly morning. Tanya was sick and me finding two more ticks on her did not help. (I have tick removing kit so no problem just not nice. Although I love dropping the little sods in the gas burner and roasting them.)

A couple of words here about this journey. It is about fun and adventure but not completely. For the majority of my life I have been in relationships with partners/wives, family etc and sometimes wishing fervently to be as I am now. Free to do as I please. Those relationships, my family, children, grandchildren etc were/are vital in adding value, experience and enabling the best years of my life which were with Kate. All in all a pretty full and rich life. 

Circumstances are such that now I finally have time, health and wealth to get to know me. The ultimate relationship if you like. Oh! And it's great when the sun is shining and all is going according to plan. It is though surprising at how little it takes to pull that rug of secure'ness, or OK'ness, out from under your feet. Especially when for most of your life that 'insecure'ness' has enjoyed the supporting buttress of a good partner/wife.

So. How do you deal with a 'shitty' start to your sixty fourth birthday? Well firstly I remind myself that good or bad, like or dislike, up or down. All are just thoughts in my head. They come and they go and all involve the same two neurons (all I have left now!) rattling around the same old, and rapidly diminishing. neuronal pathways. I have choice as to which way I want to go. Whether it be up or down, like or dislike or, most importantly, action or inaction.

So; and secondly, I chose action. That's why I am now seated back in Sadie after having walked up to the Chateaux in the drizzly rain, paid the entrance fee cos Tanya was allowed in, and had a great time exploring this medieval and picture postcard Chateaux cum castle. It was the location for much of the filming of Joan of Arc and much of the re re-creation of medieval genuineness, or twenty first century ideas of medieval genuineness, has been left in place.

There is a certain strange type of humour comes as you stand in a fourteenth century barons bed chamber and note the outlet of the rudimentary toilet podium really did allow him to shit directly on his subjects way below at the bottom of the cliff. 

All in all a good outing and choice. I am back on track now and about to visit Andy, a regular at this site who is from Hebden Bridge. He is a folk musician cum guitar player and I am to borrow the cd of Jens Kommick, a german guitar player who sounded amazing as we listened to his cd yesterday while the sun was still shining.

A wee postscript.

It is now several hours later and after a wonderful time spent with Andy and Jane over a bottle of bubbly. Funny isn't it. How the sunshine I wished for my birthday did actually arrive. S'just that it didn't come from the blue sky above but directly from the hearts of fellow campers. Guess the right choice was made eh

More friends and to the Dordogne.

"you alright mate? Not broken down or anything are you?" Startled I looked up from my task of adjusting the sat nav. I was so engrossed I had not noticed Gary stop his van on the road and walk across to where we had neatly reversed into a conveniant track among the trees.

We were stopped for breakfast after having woken up to another cold and wet morning at Lac Vasiviere. It had been a disturbed night with wild and 'let's not go there,' thoughts and dreams. That's what you get for eating too much French hill billy concocted cheese. Who the hell needs mind inducing drugs when you've got legally produced stuff like that. I'd love to know what they put in it. Oh no! Wait a minute. That was cheese from the farm of pig butchery fame wasn't it Maybe best NOT to ask what went in the cheese!

Anyway. An instant decision was made. "Let's get the hell outa here Tanya." For as well as a cheese drug induced night of wild mind mischief. ( some of it quite unsavoury may I add and certainly not belonging in this blog!) I also had a warning light flash on in the night indicating the main vehicle battery was low. This was not suprising after having the airblown central heating on for most of the day before. I did not want to risk not being able to start Sadie as we were at the end of a downhill narrow track with the lake just in front of us. Ten metres down a gently sloping forest track into a lake was, I figured, not the best place to attempt to jump start a three and a half ton motorhome that, as far as I know, does not have amphibious capabilities.

So; it was out of sweaty pit, into yesterdays clothes, stow everything away, climb into drivers seat, cross fingers, touch wood for a moment and turn ignition key.

Phew! What a relief. Sadie fired into life no problem at all. All I had to do now was to reverse about four hundred metres to the nearest safe turning space. With big mirrors and a slow and steady reverse gear Sadie once again made easy work of it. She really is a delight to drive be it backwards or forwards.

Three quarters of an hour later and into this handy forest track on the side of the D69 for a quick shower, some breakfast and a plan of what and where to go now.

Gary, it turned out, was from Manchester and a few years ago he, Emma and their two children had swopped their suburban estate living life and work for a remote old farmhouse plus a small area of land in Remplant, Haute Vienne, France. Now when I say remote I mean 'remote like nowhere, like it's even outside of Remplant, like which is small small really small! I know this because Tanya and I having no firm plan in mind jumped at the chance to follow Gary back to his home to meet Emma and the children.

"It's only just down the road, follow me". Says Gary. So I do and in my haste do the usual of not checking everything is firmly stowed away and shut. "sh*t" I shout as the first deluge of items come spilling out of the food cupboard above the sink. Never mind thinks me, it's only just down the road. Gary disapears round the next bend and I follow only to discover that such a bend is fine for a little white Renault van but requires brute force and taking on alarming angles of repose for a well laden motorhome. Especially one where cupboards were by now enacting a scene out of a Harry Potter movie by flying open and shut while flinging goods all over the van.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sadie was brought to a halt and cupboards and goods were quickly sorted out. We set off again meeting Gary a little further on reversing to see where we had got to.

We did then very quickly arrive at Gary and Emmas old and 'in progress' remote rural home. I admired this yoing couple and their children for making such a leap of faith from the safety of a secure job and suburban living in England to this huge task of making a new home and life in the deepest depths of rural France. Gary was a worker and had secured a job with the local commune (council) but he outlined to me some of the many and considerable difficulties they faced in establishing themselves here in France.

Emma meanwhile was delighted her husband had brought home this English speaking waif and stray. She also chatted away as Gary busied himself with preparing a quick lunch of beefburger and salad (like beefburger and salad UK style with tomato sauce! Ohhhh heaven!) They were both OK with French as a language with Gary being the more fluent. He had chance to show me round and outline the formiddable 'to do list' before he had to return to work after his one and a half hour lunch break. I left as Emma returned to busying herself preparing for Leightons eigth birthday party later in the afternoon. Morgan his eleven year old sister, is top of her class at school, I was informed as I said goodbye.

As we set off I had a firm plan in mind. I reckon it is too early yet to be heading into the mountains. Hang it all I'm down here for the warmer weather. So Sadie was pointed in a southerly direction and Dordogne area here we come.

It is actually a couple days later now and the plan was a good one. It is warmer but with thundery rain. It is the Dordogne cos the area is heaving with motorhomes and tourists and I notice prices have risen somewhat. The plus side is it's a beautiful area and full of twee 'done up' villages, houses and quaint cottages. Many of them all shuttered up still and awaiting their owners to turn up in the holiday season.

Vesac.

On a campsite for Easter & 'other' things. Might even treat myself to a wee glass of vino tomorrow.
Photo is 'Chateax Beynac' out of Sadies front windscreen.

Oh! And Tanya happy on her daybed during this warm & thundery afternoon

Happy Easter all.

Nakedness!! Mon April1. It would be would'nt it.

"Well who would have believed it eh Tanya?" I'm seated and looking out at a dreek (Scottish for cold wet and windy.) Lac Vasiviere.

Yesterday it was simply gorgeous. A cool breeze which died later in the day but clear blue sky and wall to wall sunshine. We had arrived early enough to find this little track which came to stop right where we are on the lakeside. It will, I may add involve a quarter mile  reverse out as there aint no turning space for something as large as Sadie!

Settling in was soon accomplished and off we went for a delightful walk through the woods. We followed the shore line and stopped at some of the numerous tiny lakeside beaches. Again I was reminded of Scottish lochs and resevoirs and how delightful they are, in sunshine! At this time of year  there are also no 'no-see-um' type insecty things either. (here referring to the notorious Scottish Midge)

We returned to Sadie and out came the blow up canoe for it's first trial run on water. All in all a successful trial with Tanya quite happy to sit between my legs as I paddled away. We made it across to an island just opposite which was OK, but I have to say:  blow up canoe is more toward the kiddies fun end of the scale rather than any serious kayaking ideas.

Back on shore, warm sun, not a soul about as had been the case since our arrival, it's strip off wetsuit which was all I had on, and relax ,nee doze, in new lounger chair stark naked for five minutes.

Yup! You've guessed. I came out of my dozing to the sound of an elderly couple just getting back in their car struggling in the small space to turn it around and driving off again. I did wave to them but I should imagine the encounter has not done a great deal to improve French/UK relationships.

Today is very different with Lac Vasiviere definitely reminding me of Scotland. Waves whitecapping. Rain on and off all day, quite cool and dull. No gorgeous sunset to watch tonight. Oh! And not another sighting of a human being since the traumatised couple wobbled away unsteadily in their little Renault!

And no 3g phone signal either!

Ho hum eh!

The dog!!

The Dog

 

Honest! If anybody had seen us they would most certainly have sent for the men in little white vans that carry straight jackets.

Tanya was looking at me with head cocked to one side as I rolled about in the lush grass by a cattle water trough where I had lifted her up for a drink. The cause of the laughter was standing trembling with tail between it's legs about twenty feet away.

 
We were on our way to 'Lac Vasiviere', routed as usual through the wee back roads winding up and down through the hills and hamlets of this delightful 'Haute Vienne' area. I had seen a sign saying 'Barrage' (dam) where we parked Sadie and proceeded with lunch. We decided to do a walk as Google maps showed, as usual, plenty of tracks along and through the forest surrounding this long narrow EDF (Electric Dept France) reservoir.

 
Now, as seems to be normal in these rural and non tourist areas, there was not a soul about. A large, very friendly and lively dog however; seemed very pleased to see us and immediately adopted us. My walking poles soon had to be placed in an X across the door to prevent said very friendly and really quite well mannered dog from entering Sadie. One unexpected bound in and subsequent leap onto the bed, much to Tanya's surprise, was enough dog mayhem for one day thank you. Said dog was well groomed and belonged to the house just above where we were parked. I found this out when I knocked on the door to check if it was OK to park where I was. There was no reply so I presumed nobody in. But friendly dog appeared from round back with favourite toy!

Lunch over and off up to the dam and over the hill for our walk. Friendly dog decided this was great and bounded along with us. By this time Tanya had resigned herself to the fact of large boundy dog being an item for this walk. There was quite a climb and we were now crossing some grassy upland meadows toward a track into the woods. Cattle were around with their grazing controlled by electric fences. 

Now electric fences are no trouble for me. I can get over them. Electric fences are no problem for Tanya. She just goes under them. A slightly different situation arises for a large boundy dog. Especially one who at every bog or wet patch soaks herself thoroughly.

That was why I was rolling about in the grass clutching at belly laughter. Large boundy and wet dog had just done a leap twenty foot in the air with accompanying yelps after rubbing wet doggy hair quite firmly against the electric fence. Which, was mains powered so packed quite a punch. Large boundy dog was now standing, shitting itself, shaking uncontrollably, tail being shat upon as it was firmly between legs, and whimpering something along the lines of. "Good God, what the f**ck was that and is it going to hit me again!"

Eventually I got over my laughter and our walk resumed. Large boundy dog, after about five minutes, gave a classic demonstration of dogs ability to 'be in the moment'. She once again bounded after us oblivious to recent trauma and probably none the wiser about electric fences.

We completed our walk with no further incident. Tanya, exhausted clambered onto her bed and went straight to sleep. Large, wet, mucky and smelly boundy dog must also have been tired as it disappeared towards it's home and was not seen again. I decided to move on, as opposed to my original plan of stay there the night. I was just a bit nervous that householder was now in the house and at this very moment puzzling over how a smart looking dog earlier in the day had transformed into a downright filthy and smelly dog who had developed an aversion to people unwarily patting him on his back.

 
We quietly moved on before dirty dog and motorhome were connected. A few miles further on we found a delightful westerly facing spot on the edge of a wood where we watched the sun go down until the very last rays of deep dark rouge sank into darkness.