Mametz continued, for a while!!!

So,  in fact  we end up staying for nearly 3 weeks!! Yes people, it really is that good here. We pass our days lazing in the sun, fishing the mill pond and getting to know everybody on site.

Some fish (spot Norm’s head):

Without exception they prove to be charming wonderful people and abundant in their generosity with their Pastis. A fine example of this is one night when we have had an early collapse, we are in fact in bed by 9pm..next thing you know there’s a knock on the door and we are extended an invitation to go round the neighbours for a quick drink. 7 hours later, yes seven, having been plied liberally with booze and stellar company and obviously repaying their hospitality with a visit to the bar after hours and a loud rendition of the Marseillaise we finally make it to bed. We love you J

A few days later the weather closes in unremittingly and even we are confined to barracks by the severity of the rain and cold. It’s grim and everything smells of wet dog. We have also received news from home. Through a sad combination of factors we decide that Angleterre will be our destination in a week (via few other places, our last fling with la France). Our feelings our borne out by Fred’s beautiful tree that overhangs the millpond which suffers a gigantic collapse in the night; even ancient wood nymphs feel the burden of the weather. With heavy hearts we bid our farewell to Fred who sends us on our way with Ch’Ti baseball caps (it’s a beer) and hugs enorme. We will miss you all sooooooooo much!!! Au revoir.. a bientot. Xx

Friday 27th June Gourney-en-Bray to Mametz via Beauvais and St Quentin

Today is the day we get to our campsite and set up HQ for plotting ‘ventures and sploring’ into the unknown east. We stop at Beauvais to see the incredible church and cathedral there, but unfortunately it’s scorching weather and the dogs prevent play so we only get an exterior snatch at a view.

We would recommend the aire there though, despite what appears to be it’s out of the way location. It’s actually quite close to everything and masses of park adjacent if you’ve got hounds.

On we go towards St Quentin and the campsite Serracourt le Grand. We have phoned and reserved in advance and are assured that a pitch (and on site carp fishing) will both be available. We arrive and all goes well at first and then we are directed to our pitch. Unfortunately neither of us had the presence of mind to take a photo of this, but picture your standard aire drive over drain, hard core standing, tarmac/gravel, unshaded car park and you get the idea. Despite having no back up plans we immediately leave. I mean… really????? Plus it was full of oiks. Sucks boo to you we say. Except it’s sucks boo to us really as we’ve got no where to go that readily springs to mind, or indeed that we can find online, or via the acsi book, that meets our needs. We have one last card left to play, although it means a HUGE zoom. Again. Our old friend Frederic Lecat and his campsite ‘Camping de Moulin’ in Mametz. Erm. Near Calais. We stayed with him on our first trip and it was a perfect place to hole up, recover, plot and scheme and relax. We can’t get hold of him on the phone and it’s miles away, but we decide to risk it. The comforts that hopefully await us outweigh the miles and the risk, plus it puts us in a position to continue east either via Belgium or Luxembourg.

Jon does yet another heroic zoom, this man needs a medal for endurance driving and upon our arrival we are greeted by Frederic himself who, incredibly, recognises us. Bearing in mind we stayed with him two years ago, for three nights, this is pretty amazing, especially as he may or may not have been three sheets to the wind for the duration of our stay! In short order he has ensconced on a beautiful grassy, sunny pitch with dappled shade, hook up, internet and all the facilities you could ever want (including an entire meadow for the dogs and fishing for us!) for the princely sum of €15 a night. We love you Mr Lecat. As an aside to all motorhomers out there, this man has five pitches and you basically need to stay here. There’s a beautiful carp lake (or three) down the road, the famous and beautiful river Lys runs through the town, the campsite has an excellent bar and the pitches are beautiful and well kept, there is a children’s play area, dogs are welcome and they get a huge field to tank about in. Everything is clean and well maintained while managing to have a warm family feel. The family themselves are completely charming and the whole set up will ease the nerves of the most hard pushed traveller. Do check them out online: Le Moulin de Mametz.

We decide to stay for a week, perhaps we’ll stay longer - especially because Jonboy has apparently inspired some major fishing activities with the locals having hauled out a specimen brown trout and a really big bream!

Thursday 26th June - Deauville to Gourney–en-bray

We are heading into Germany after Deauville, but we are not sure which way we are going to go in… via Belgium, via Luxembourg, via Italy, via where???! So we’ve decided to head a bit closer and bail into a campsite from where we can plot our next moves. After all the miles we’ve covered we aren’t that keen to do any huge amounts of driving (see tomorrow where the plan goes very wrong!) so we’ve decided to get past the notoriously difficult Rouen and spend the night in Gourney-en-Bray. This, remarkably, actualy goes completely according to plan and we arrive at our chosen destination with only one wrong turn. The downside is that due to EPIC crap driving on the part of every single road user we work out that we have averaged 7mph for most of the journey. Yes, you did read that correctly. What is wrong with people? What specifically was wrong with you mr double-artic-over-loaded-with-unsecured-logs-underpowered-swaying-swerving-IDIOT?? 

Anyway, breathe… we did manage to make it around Rouen without incident despite the bridge we needed being closed due to the fact that a new middle section of the bridge was actually being tugged/craned into place as we went past. Well, went around. Slowly.

We arrive at Gourney and the aire turns out to be charming and well equipped (as does the town) with everything you need, and is also free. Happy days. It’s market day tomorrow morning, which we decide to celebrate for no good reason by getting blad on local hooch. Sometimes you just gotta. 

Sunday 22nd June Arromanches to Deauville

The next day dawns fair and we attempt to zoom to Deauville. Unfortunately Noush has an epic fail on directions and we end up on the coast road, despite all attempts to avoid it. Eventually we limp into Deauville and begin the process of finding somewhere to park. This is not made easy for two very good reasons: firstly tempers are somewhat frayed, secondly the aire in Deauville is rubbish. Neither of us are hopeful, but our one salvation lies in some wild camping that we might have espied and the assurance of the tourist office over the phone that campers are allowed to park anywhere. Thankfully almost immediately upon our arrival we find a string of campers parked up in the port. We slide in with no trouble and evaluate our situation. We are parked about ten minutes from either Deuaville town or Trouville, about ten minutes from Noush’s father’s hotel, ten minutes from the beach and we’ve got a big grassy park next to us for the dogs, there’s a sliver of shade and it’s all free. We have landed on our feet, especially considering we are in Deauville where prices are – in the main - wildly inflated.

Jon gets his head down after hideous journey and Noush goes in search of refreshment and her father.  We all convene at Father’s hotel and a grand reunion takes place. This has been a long time coming and to say that has been worth the journey and the wait is to grossly under-exaggerated.

We spend four days in Deauville, enjoying the weather, the beach, the sites, the markets, Trouville, but most of all the company of Noush’s father and his wife. It’s a perfect few days and completely priceless. Dad and Lesley, thank you so very very much xxxxxxxxxx

View from the Van, sort of..

Still, not even for Noush’s father can we stay in a layby forever, so our departure and the next phase of our journey beckons... 

Saturday 21st June Raguenez to Arromanches

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. 

Wednesday 18th Guidels plage to Raguenez via Pont Aven, Port de Manech

The next day we decide to do a bit of exploring of the artisty Pont Aven and then hole up for the night in Port Manech. Upon arrival at Pont Aven it seems that not only is every tour coach in the country here, but it’s impossible to move around town due to a large scale renovation work of a giant hotel that seems to be going on. Nonetheless we persevere and stop for a coffee and watch the incredibly arty world go by. There is an obvious split of locals vs tourists: every single tourist is carrying loot of some description. They congregate outside the galleries in flocks, clutching they’re expensive goodies while waiting to board the seemingly endless carousel of coaches. We hide with the locals and sip our local coffee and try to spot an opening through which we can make our escape. While the town is beautiful and charming and actually probably very lovely and fun when quiet, it is currently horrendous. We scarper after availing ourselves of the poo tank emptying facilities. Art and poo shouldn’t really go hand in hand, but every now and then I suppose it can be quite apt. Just ask Damien Hurst.

Our next spot for exploration is Port Manech, the aire looks lovely and the port sounds nice too. Upon arrival it indeed proves to be the case. The beach is lovely, the aire is nice and shady and there’s nobody else here, it’s all perfect. Something doesn’t ‘feel’ right though, so against all our better judgements we forsake this lovely spot and carry on. We pass two more completely idyllic aires and yet still we are unsatisfied. Have we become spoilt? Noush has a couple of back up ideas up her sleeve, but like a box of chocolates you never know what you’re going to get and it is with apprehension that we set off down a very narrow country lane…single track… no visible turning points.. to explore one of these back up ideas. Fortunately it’s a major win. We arrive just shy of the most stunning peninsula, designated grassy parking, free, nobody else here, breathtaking scenery, sunshine, paradise. Yay! The risk was worth it… Jonoush rules win again: “ if you don’t like it then carry on until you find something you do like”…We love…

We like it so much that we actually can’t bear to tear ourselves away. With crystal clear sea water, endless sands, fabulous fishing, deserted coves and midnight swims everybody is in heaven.

We have to do a small raid on the local campsite shop… (somebody open a shop around here please??!) but this is accomplished with no great drama and everyone is lovely. Oddly Jon came to this very beach as a youngster and stayed on the very campsite just mentioned.. how strange when life comes full circle… All in all we leave extremely refreshed indeed and ready to undertake the couple of giant hops we need in order to make it to Deauville to see Noush’s dad. 

Tuesday 17th June Piriac to Guidels plage via Locmaraquer, Quiberon and Lorient

We leave Piriac and get a zoom on, whilst we have made up some time we are still very far from our ultimate destination and we need to get some miles under our belt. We have a master plan, but as ever the fates intervene and our master plan goes out of the window. The aire at Locmariquer is packed (awnings down selfish people, down!!), Quiberon is not viable, the weather has closed in and it’s blowing a gale – not a time to be stuck on a tiny sliver of a peninsula – on and on we drive. We come up with a few back up plans, but it’s basically drive until you’re happy to stop. We pass place after place, god bless autoroute and our last (again!) option turns out to be the best. We arrive at Guidels plage at an aire behind the sailing school and there is not only a space, but the aire is PERFECT!! Miles of blinding sand (tide’s out), bar, shops, wifi and loos all just there. It’s ideal and it totally beats all the places we had earmarked.

We zoom the dogs, Noush gets in the sea in her underwear, breasts flying and no one to see or care, Valerie is nestled cosy and safe in the dunes and we lack for nothing. Why isn’t anyone else here?

There is a small incident involving van rage which sums up the attitude of some weird campers; there’s a late arrival and an aire mayor turfs someone off their pitch to make way for a bigger van, the police turn up and it looks like it could get ugly, why? If everyone just shunted down a bit you could fit loads more, but no, people have to make a scene. Fortunately it all ends happily – but as a note to other campers, get here early afternoon to avoid the fuss.