Biarritz

As we hit the Atlantic Coast at Biarritz ready for a leisurely journey towards Calais then home, we were ourselves struck by the significant drop in temperature. As has become the theme of the tour we were regaled by more tales of how ‘lovely’ the weather had been here last week and that what we were seeing was really quite unprecedented for this time of year. Not expecting anything different by now, back we bravely went under the seats to unpack our winter clothes and pile on the layers for an outing into the centre of town.
Biarritz has a delightful olde world feel about it and we enjoyed hanging around the entrance to the impressive Hotel Imperial were an Audrey Tatou film we’d recently loved had been made. Sparing a thought for those who had booked up for a week of sunshine and luxury in this grand old seafront hotel, we hurried out of the biting wind back to the sanctuary of our warm, dry caravan just before it started to pour. I was not surprised at this as I had as usual hung a long line of washing but once again tried to comfort myself with the thought that the rain acts as a natural softener … When it became clear that the wet was once again with us for several days I resigned back to the dryers and many more Euros in change.
Even the most pleasant of campsites seem miserable and deserted in the rain. No exception, this one was saved by the fact that it has the best swimming pool yet. 20 metres, indoor and heated I enjoyed having it to myself for the three days we were here and whiled away some time lapping up and down while Krista and Graham watched from the side.

Home soon!

Hello to all our faithful followers. We are enjoying our last few days in France, heading for Calais and the ferry on Sunday evening. We have met up with Graham's brother Pat and spent five nights together in La Rochelle. We have now all moved up to a site near the Mont St.Michel and leave tomorrow for Deauville. Using the last few days to reflect on the trip, we can't believe where the time has gone. Despite a tour never to be forgotten, we are all happy to be coming home. Krista is very adventurous and needs more space to explore, its quite difficult to keep her contained in the caravan with its confined spaces and obstacles to her safe passage! We are so looking forward to seeing everyone and can't wait for you to meet our 8 month old bundle of joy (and grinch) who is growing up so fine and quick.

7th May - I can stand up on my own!

Holding on to my highchair that is!

Lourdes

Lourdes
Passing so close, we both wanted to stop off in Lourdes and see what it was all about. Graham’s brother Pat had been right when he said that it was well worth a visit. The 19th century town that built up after local girl Bernadette is said to have seen various apparitions of the Virgin Mary is set in an amazing location on a rushing river amongst the Pyrenees. Through the tat of the icon peddling streets we got to the area of ‘La Grotte’ (where these visions occurred) in time for the 4.30 pm daily procession of pilgrims.
A bizarre but touching sight we watched agog as the hundreds of sick people progressed to the chapel. It seems that each pilgrim is assigned a personal nurse, dressed in a old fashioned red, white and blue uniform to wheel them about the place in ungainly, blue, hooded, wheelchair contraptions. Something to do with the Order of Malta we couldn’t work out whether these nurses were nuns, volunteers or just civilian nurses employed to accompany people on this pilgrimage. Some looked quite holy while others too glamorous in high heels and plenty of make-up to be brides of Christ.
The pilgrims passed in country groups, the largest being Italian then Maltese. There were a considerable number of French, Irish and Austrians, then a spattering of Brits towards the end. We vowed to find one of these and get the low down on how it all worked. Since the opportunity didn’t arise, we will have to do some internet research. Some pilgrims were old, others quite sick. Many looked pained while others seemed made up to be there. We were a shocked to see some fully covered stretchers and guessed that these transported those pilgrims who sadly hadn’t quite made it… Initially a little unsettled by the experience we got quite into things with all the singing and waving. Plenty were cheered by the sight of Krista enjoying the proceedings from the side. One girl was very happy to see the large crowds who had turned out to say hello to her and blew regal kisses from side to side. A couple of young men had brought water pistols to keep them amused.
Waiting to visit the cave where Sainte Bernadette was said to have received her visitations in 1858, we were suddenly being fast-tracked to the front. Not quite sure what was happening we hoped that we hadn’t given the wrong impression with the permanent makeshift sunshade that protects our ‘baby vampire’ from the sun. Happy to avoid the long wait we didn’t protest but thought it polite to remove Krista from behind her screen lest prayers should be wasted on our bonny girl.

Toulouse

Toulouse
Next stop was a small village called Martres-Tolosane around 60km from Toulouse. The campsites seem to be improving in quality as we move west. In a peaceful natural setting amongst the trees, on the edge of the Garonne and at the foot of a small mountain this one was no exception. Although we were disappointed to find yet another empty swimming pool despite the weather being hot enough for outdoor swimming … we did manage to get in two games of tennis without interruption from our sleeping cherub.
We stopped near Toulouse so that we could visit an old BA friend of mine, Bérengère and her family. We had been out of contact since I had left flying in 2006 but I had managed to find her again through her brother on Facebook. I’m so glad we did. Bérengère is a real keeper and after a lovely afternoon together in her hometown of Saramon with her partner Gäetan and her two children Lou and Milo we vowed never again to leave it so long.

Carcassonne

From Sainte Maxime we travelled back through Marseille to St Martin de Crau for the night. On the way we stopped off to say another hello to Stéphanie and family. Krista picked up another bag of clothes, a hand knitted waistcoat from Stephanie’s grandmother and we stocked up on Josie’s delicious fig jam.
St Martin de Crau is a typical Provençal town close to Arles and we were at first excited to see that we had unexpectedly arrived in the middle of its annual Bull-fighting and horse-riding Feria. It was Saturday night and the small town was buoyed up with a party spirit, so we decided to pack Krista into her pushchair and go out for dinner. It soon became clear however that it was not so much the place for a touring family to be. While the wine and beer flowed copiously, everywhere we looked were the ubiquitous groups of dodgy teenagers skulking hopefully for a kiss or a fight on the one night of the year their sleepy town came to life. Therefore we opted for a pizza and an(other) early night. The pizza worked out fine the early night did not. Returning to the caravan we discovered that our pitch was right at the back of a place that had been transformed into a ‘Eurodisco’ for this special night. Put it this way – thanks to what must be said a great sound system and a pretty good DJ we didn’t get a wink of sleep before 2am! We had planned to hang around to see what was going on the next day but after the torturous night we couldn’t wait to get back to the tranquility we have grown used to over the past 5 months.
After one more night in a beautiful but mosquito infested campsite near Narbonne, we rediscovered our peace in Carcassonne. Here we enjoyed three nights in what we found to be a gorgeous place. Whereas ‘La Cité’ of Carcassonne is perhaps only worth one visit in a lifetime, the newer town is a good place to spend some time. It has a picturesque setting on a river and a sprawling park to run or walk in. The campsite was perhaps one of the best we have been in so far with its sunny, spacious grassy pitches. We were finally able to set Krista up on a blanket to play with her toys and she had a lovely time rolling off onto the grass to taste the mud and the daisies.