As a result of our extended stay at Raguenez we are
somewhat behind schedule and need to get a shift on to make it to the north
coast so we undertake the epic leap and groove on towards Arromanches. We have
chosen Arromanches because we have been there already on this trip and we know
there are several options for parking.. there’s an aire, some other wild-ish
parking and a campsite. We are also aware that it is the Fete de Musique this
weekend, which is a national French celebration of music and we are nervous
that all towns everywhere are going to be full to bursting. Sure enough, after
miles and miles of zoom, bypassing the delights of St Brieuc, St Malo, Mont St
Michel and more, we arrive in the outskirts of Arromanches. This is very nearly
as far as we get. As dreaded Arromanches is completely full, the aire is packed
full like sardines and there are more fish trying to get in and out and
everywhere. It’s mayhem. We make the instant decision to try the campsite
sharpish – you can see it from the aire and it looks alarmingly full, but we
reckon it’s our only option…as long as beat the rest of the world who are
looking like they’re thinking the same!
We arrive at the campsite entrance and sure enough there
is a campervan parked outside and one looking like they are working out how to
get in (really??) Jon drives around and we’re in!! 20 tortuous minutes later mr
lovely campsite man has checked us and we are ensconced. We remain smug for all
of two minutes until we work out that the electricity point doesn’t work and
Norm has scarpered. Sigh. Thankfully our blissfully chilled out dutch
neighbours assist on both counts. Sparked up and Norm intact we breathe our
first truly relaxed breath in about 250 miles and 6 hours! Mr campsite man has
recommended a restaurant to us and unbelievably it turns out to be the very
restaurant in which mr lovely barman charged our laptop for us last time. He
recognises us and treats us to lovely service and we pass an extremely relaxing
evening thank you very much.
The dogs seem to recognise the beach and cause
merry hell, everyone is chilled. Considering the music festival there is little
going on, perhaps they are all worn out after the amazing (and heartbreaking)
D-Day remembrance anniversary fireworks and commemorative ceremonies that they
put on last month. We are treated to a guy in drag, with a fabulously raddled
voice, singing in a burlesque costume just up the road from the restaurant tho,
very brave! We knew Boy Gerorge was on hard times but really!
Upon our return to the campsite Norm escapes once again
and Jon is treated to a very “Laurel and Hardy” esque interlude of Norm zooming
one way up the rows of campers and Noush zooming the other way down a parallel
row, both trying to outfox the other – all that is missing is the comedy music,
stills of startled faces and the occasional black and white caption! Order is
eventually restored, Norm thoroughly outfoxed and exhausted, Noush collapsed in
a chair with a glass of wine and otherwise peace and quiet. Bed beckons before
night has a chance to fall.
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