Our adventures in a mobile home
David
This user hasn't shared any biographical information
Posts by David
Medieval Estaing
Aug 2nd
Needing to recover from a week of socialising (and almost constant drinking) we went in search of some quiet time, north of the Lot region, on our way towards Germany. By chance we ended up in a very picturesque medieval village called Estaing, perched on the side of a hill with a river running through it. The local municipal campsite charges only €8 per night which we happily took advantage of. Moments after setting up camp a thunderstorm came down, forcing us to stay in the van and catch up on some much needed sleep.
Morphing
Jul 22nd
We have been camping in a municipal camp site, surrounded by thousands of cicadas serenading at full volume. The noise reached a crescendo last night and then stopped abruptly. This morning Chris went to unlock our bikes and let out an unholy shriek. “There’s a creature on my bike, it’s like a praying mantis crossed with a spider!” Close inspection of said beastie showed no more than the empty shell of a cicada. Last night they all morphed into their adult forms, leaving behind a littering of empty skins on the trees, like discarded beer cans after a heavy drinking session. It must have been quite a party!
Once again we cycled into the old town (swerving carefully to avoid the slightly more swollen form of Mr Cane Rat) and attempted to get into the amphitheater. No such luck, another celebrity (this time a name we didn’t recognise) had monopolised the place.
Jeudis (Thursdays) in Nimes is market day and every square is fully kitted out with stall holders and musicians of varying abilities. We watched a few minutes of a crazy saxophone player who seemed more like a man wrestling a python (and failing miserably) than an artist. We tried Vietnamese food for the first time – an unusual choice perhaps given the setting, but an excellent one. Luckily the food was a lot better than our attempt to understand a Vietnamese-French accent.
Bridging the Gorge
Jul 14th
We awoke early for our drive along the Gorges du Tarn. It’s a busy road in summer and we were unsure about how easy it would be to navigate. The drive can be a bit nerve racking in a motorhome, especially when trying to avoid crashing into overhanging cliffs on one side while minibuses , hauling a bouncing trailer stacked with canoes, charge towards you on the other. Luckily, as it was Bastille Day, the roads were relatively quiet, keeping cries of “watch out!” to a minimum. We were hoping to do some canoeing along the river, but were thwarted by a nasty parasite that lurks in the poisonous Tarn River. It is fatal for dogs so, with Odie’s health in mind, we ambled leisurely along the road instead, enjoying the prolific birdlife and views of climbers scaling the heights.
A visit to Millau is not complete without seeing the bridge; a thin gossamer thread across a deep valley. It is a beautiful sight and we chose to enjoy it from the road at the nearby Aire which has a view point. It costs €11.80 to cross and includes a display on how it was built.
Millau is a bustling place and we arrived just in time for the fireworks and celebrations for Bastille Day, although an hour of rain threatened to ruin any celebrations. Once the downpour had settled to gentle dripping we took a walk into into town to enjoy the festivities. It didn’t take many bangs or bass noises to send Odie into a panic so Christine took him back to the campsite, leaving me behind to take photos. What happened next turned out to our worst travel experience so far.
Some enterprising pick pocket made off with my mobile phone and wallet. As if that wasn’t bad enough I missed one of the river crossings on the walk back and got hopelessly lost in the dark. It took several hours for me to find my way to the campsite, and when I eventually got there my heart sank. The van was gone. In its place was a note under a rock. “Dave, have gone to police station and hospital to look for you, reception can help”. So, off I went to reception to try and contact Chris. The campsite owner was anything but helpful, refusing to let me use their phone. I even offered to pay her twenty euros to send Chris an SMS, but that was turned down. “It’s not my problem”, she said, “you’ll have to walk to the hospital, maybe she’s still there. I’ll draw you a map”.
After a considerable amount of begging she eventually relented and arranged for Chris to be told to come and fetch me. We were both incredibly relieved to see each other again. As bad as the experience was it had a positive side – we learnt some valuable lessons, the most important being to appreciate every moment we have together!
En France – Deuxieme fois
Jul 12th
At last, we have returned to France. Our first stop, quite close to the border, was to do a bit of snorkelling. We’d read about a snorkel safari in a protected marine park and were keen to try it out. We ended up on the wrong beach, however, and this turned out to be a stroke of luck. The snorkelling was fantastic, with huge shoals of fish surrounding us like something out of a BBC documentary. On the way out we saw the official snorkel safari beach which was littered with people, and probably far fewer fish than we had the fortune to see.
Our final stop was Port Vendres – a pretty town, especially at night when its lights reflect across the bay, and little fishing boats return late at night with their catch. Four lighthouses (two are really just lightbulbs on a long stick) mark the entrance to the bay.
With no internet connection available we headed to the local cafes in search of free WiFi. I spent three hours working on a fault giving poor Christine plenty of time to reacquaint herself with speaking French. “Il travail encore” (he’s still working) was repeated many times, with an accompanying sigh and roll of the eyes. No single customer in the history of the cafe has ever ordered so many glasses of water; they must have thought we had a dolphin hidden under the table.
We spent the night in the local Aire (hurrah for free camping again) and baked ourselves silly. It was the hottest night of our trip so far and, with no electric hookup (and therefore no fan), we lay awake half the night in a puddle of sweat and bristly dog hair, listening to the distant sound of booming bass drums and a hooter which shrieked for hours until the car battery ran out.
Orgiva
Jun 28th
We drove in a big anti-clockwise semicircle down to a run-down town called Orgiva, and set up camp in a campsite where almost nothing worked. Someone needs to tell the owners that it’s not a swimming pool if you can stand in the deep end without getting your elbows wet, and “aviary” is a more appropriate label for a toilet block where you can’t wash your face but can watch birds nesting in the showers.
A trip into the town for supplies opened our eyes to the scruffy side of Spain. The town is full of tramps and beggars. We met a local shoeless inhabitant staggering up the road, taking one step back for every two forward in a bizarre drunk version of a salsa dance. After his eyes slowly managed to focus on Christine they lit up (or, more accurately, glazed over slightly less) in the hopes of a handout. When he noticed me glaring behind her he whimpered, clutched a railing and squeezed his eyes shut until we had passed. I must not look like the generous type.
Whilst in the shop we overheard a scruffy couple arguing over a packet of spaghetti. Apparently it’s best to buy big packets so that the long journey on foot to the supermarket doesn’t have to be made too often. On the way out of town we almost ran over another tramp dragging a plastic crate behind him on a string, like an arctic explorer on a very tight budget. I wonder if he buries a can of beans half way home so that he has food for the return journey?
Next to the campsite was an abandoned farm which we walked through, sampling figs and almonds from the trees. It seems a shame that such an abundance of fruit is left to waste.
After a noisy night at the campsite, with flip-flops firmly locked inside the van, we headed East along the southern side of the mountains, glad to have left Orgiva far behind us.
El Chorro
Jun 24th
After the hustle and bustle of Ronda we experienced a very contrasting quietness at the lakes near El Churro, and wild-camped for the first time. We found a spot under a tree just off the road. We were a bit nervous at first having read stories about people getting into trouble for wild camping. Our fears were put to rest when a police car drove past us, just before sunset, but took no notice of us.
I found plenty of things to photograph, including some giant dandelions which left Chris panting like a marathon runner having gotten a few seeds into the air. Now we know what pixies go through when they blow the little ones.
A nearby recreation center offers kayaking and peddle boating which we took advantage of. €10 gets you an hour on the lake. For free entertainment you can swim in the bright blue water or pull into one of the many stopping areas along the lakeside roads for a picnic.
Gibraltar
Jun 13th
We went to Gibraltar for our friends’ wedding. The view from the top of the rock is excellent. There are wild monkeys roaming the streets, and one of them bit a member of the wedding party. That will teach him not to snog random monkeys.
There is a theatre inside caves in the rock, with big stalactites and stalagmites from floor to ceiling. The entrance fee is quite high for what you get to see though.
Our new home
May 21st
At long last we have picked up our campervan! It didn’t take me long to break it, just over an hour, actually. There’s a little area in the dashboard for stashing things like wallets and phones. I put my mobile phone into it and, to my horror, heard an unsettling “clonk” as it fell down behind the dashboard. Minutes later it started to ring – a work call of all things.
So, our first night staying at a campsite was spent dismantling the dashboard to get at my phone. I had already planned to switch the van’s cheap radio with the swish memory-stick compatible one from my car so took advantage of the opportunity to do that – if you can call having the front of your car in bits an opportunity 
Tomorrow I’m expecting to pick up a wide angle lens (Sigma 10-20mm) lens for my D90 and will take some photos of “Karmenn” (that’s what we’re calling the van). So far we’re very happy with her, bar the minor inconvenience of a little phone gobbling she is in many ways far more luxurious than the cramped cottage we stayed in yesterday. At least we don’t have to stand on tippy toes to do the washing up …