Having
been advised by wonderful lovely campsite woman at Le Val Fleuri, we make a
horribly early start to avoid the school run rush hour. We sort of didn’t take
her very seriously, but set off early anyway just in case so as to avoid
potential Gorge climbing in midday heat. This turns out to be a good decision.
There are children everywhere!! Hanging off railings, causing merry hell on
zebra crossings to the extent that they don’t use lollipop ladies here, they
use actual police! The road is busy and fraught and plagued with ‘STOP ONZO
THERE’S A CHILD’, but nonetheless the French remain hospitable and lovely: we saw
real life signposts that worked and, AND, people let us pull out!! There is a
God: alive and well and living it up in France.
We
head away from the coast and towards the Gorge. Some 130 kms inland. As usual,
by no means a surprise bearing in mind we are heading towards a Gorge,
everything is up hill. I guess the clue was in the name. Still compared to Italian
adventures of last week these are minor inclines!
We
sail through various small pretty villages perched high up with fabulous views
and settle on Draguignan for a breakfast break. Draguignan turns out to be
lovely as we drive through the main drag, a bustling French market town, just
the place for a coffee and croissant. Sadly, it was not to be. Due to a minor traffic
infringement, we decided to leave (at pace) and breakfast in the next town.
Nuff said.
After
we that we zoom to the Lake at the foot of the Gorge de Verdon. We hole up in
and Aire which is in the car park of the Hotel and Restaurant L’Ermitage. Super
helpful man informs us this will cost the princely sum of €6 and includes use
of the pool and free wi-fi. C’est tres bon.
We
immediately abuse the hospitality of their bar whilst perusing some interesting
business opportunities that have flung themselves in our path. This results in Jon making some very super
important and intelligent phone calls to various estate agent types. Noush is very impressed at this point,
clearly she has a master negotiator on her hands. Master Negotiator may,
however, have just committed us to heading very north at speed…Le Mans beckons
(coincidence honest guv) until the meeting is postponed until later in the
month. Still, one in the bag.
After
this piece of good news we de camp to a virtually deserted and very hot lake
side. It’s almost like being on your own desert island. As becomes the norm fishing
results in nothing, despite the purchase of some French worms. No further
comment your honour.
No one told me there were no fish in the lake!
Dinner
at the Ermitage (and very nice too) and to bed. Cautionary note! The toilet
facilities at the camping car area at the hotel have to be worth a mention to
anyone else going this way. The single toilet (which caters for a capacity of
30 vans) is similar in appearance to a sweat box you see at prison camps.
Effectively a tin hut and with no light. Visiting the can during the wee hours
(sorry) meant having to arm yourself with head torch and a hand held jobbie to
complete proceedings safely. I was more kitted out than your average miner than
someone going to turn out. Bring a torch.
The morning
sees us in Moustieres for some provisions: beautiful place, almost hewn out of
rockface, with an incredible church that looked like it sort of just grew
there. Pretty and quiet, quick wander and then back to the lake for breakfast
and more fishing. Still caught nothing! Did park up next to this though:
The Titanic of motor homes parked next to us at the lake. If Carlsberg made camper vans.....
Tomorrow
sees the return of culture as we head to Arles, a city steeped in history
further down the coast. We should be heading downhill for most of the journey,
down from the heady heights of the Gorge, which will make a welcome change.
Arles be looking forward to it (aaargh).