Jumieges to Honfleur – Tuesday 25th September

We both awoke with the horn this morning, and not the agreeable sort either. This was the rude awakening of the Croissant person arriving to sell all sorts of pastry delights. Matey in the van went round every part of the campsite with what amounted to a ships horn blaring out to advise you he/she was here. Pain au Chocolate indeed. The latest brand of Lidl coffee soothed our nerves before we ventured into Jumieges for a mooch about. We were intending to go to the Abbey but the entrance fee was high so we put up with peering through the gates. Quite an astonishing sight, but sadly destroyed by the French Revolutionaries. Talk about shitting on your own chips.

Honfleur is the destination of choice today. Or at least that was the plan. While driving along (or attempting to, hurricane gale force nine, going nowhere fast), Noush realises she has been looking at the wrong place on the map and is actually taking us to Harfleur, not Honfleur. Not one word about women and maps, ok, not one. Thankfully through a bit of fancy footwork ce n’est pas un catastrophe and is indeed a bit of a blessing as we get to go over the Pont de Tancarville which, while proving nearly impossible to stay on due to hurricanes and great height not mixing too well, provided some pretty spectacular scenery for a mere €3.10.

We find the obligatory McDonalds for some wi-fi and more coffee. Once again wi-fi service is swift, coffee is yummy, staff are polite, place is immaculate. Would that everything in life worked as efficiently. Have our standards slipped to say such things about a fast food joint? Couple of hours of admin later and after a bit of minor rage about the ineptitude of certain people who can’t seem to understand the simplest of instructions (why can’t they be more like McDonalds and just get it done??), we arrive at Honfleur and what may well be the biggest Aire in the whole world ever.

This is more like a vast Camper Van production plant than an Aire. The book of occasional fiction tells is that it can cater for 200 Campers. For once we agree. It’s also cheap at €10 which includes electrical hook up, and it is a 5 minute walk into Honfleur along the harbour. Perhaps Ronald is influencing more than wi-fi and coffee today.

We have a minor performance with the pay machine which wants €10 in change. We only have €9.80. Damn it. The van is searched in a military fashion, every draw and nook and cranny. Surely there is €0.20? If there is (and there was the other day but now it’s gone) we can’t find it. Noush spots some fellow Brits staring blankly at said cash machine and goes over cap in hand for the change and they kindly oblige. Result. 5 minutes later we see them walking past the Van and hear them cursing their lack of change to feed the machine. Had to laugh.

We go for a wander into Honfleur, it all looks very inviting in the afternoon sunshine, said sunshine holds true from the van to the start of the town (a whole five minutes), but the very minute we set foot on the pretty cobbled streets the sky turns black and the heavens open. We have no option but to dive under a café awning, along with everyone else and seek shelter. What results is an impromptu flood. Noush has unfortunately chosen a seat next to a drain which promptly overflows and swamps her feet. Snotty useless waitress woman is no help, but we are beaten at this point and retreat inside. Is this Honfleur or on pleut?

Thankfully the downpour doesn’t last and we are able to escape some five minutes later. The streets of Honfleur are cobbled and while pretty and charming are a total death trap when wet, every other step is a narrowly avoided flip flop fail. There are a plethora of cafes, all towered over by long, tall, skinny houses that are reminiscent of Dutch architecture. The influence is marked. We stroll around and admire this charming little port. It’s positively teeming with people. The town is full of art galleries and bric a brac shops, all centred around the small harbour, all very chic-boutique. In the distance you can see (and hear) the industrial port of Le Harve but this somehow doesn’t detract from the charm.

After another culinary delight back in Onzo (yep you guessed, Lidl again – this has to stop) we make the most of another break in the weather and head for the beach. There are more beautiful parts of France but we are surprised by the delights that parts of the north of France have to offer. So much tourist traffic must just leave the ports and head further south, perhaps they don’t know what they’re missing. The beach is beautiful and almost deserted, we walk for ages and barely see a soul: just the occasional couple out with a dog and the passage of vast ships almost silently gliding by to keep us company.

At the entrance to the beach and along the promenade back to Onzo we see a few memorials to mariners and we give acknowledgment to the history of the place and to those in peril, lost at sea.

Jaulzy to Jumieges Monday 24th September

Mileage landmark – trip to date 4200 miles!

Blog stat – just over 30k words – eek!

After a few very strong coffees with Momma at La Rose des Sables (this was 9am and the chap on the next table was tucking into a bottle of Rose!) we leave for Beauvais, halfway between Jaulzy and Rouen.

The weather is frankly awful and has been since late last night. Stormy winds and rain. Last night we watched a spectacular lightning display for a good half hour out of the Van window. Thankfully it didn’t get too close! The wind is so strong we begin to fear being tipped over. We notice a large number of articulated Lorries parked up on the side of the road – is this a hint to stop? Regardless, we soldier on, albeit it very slowly. When we are not approaching a list of some alarming degrees we are struggling to get anything above 50mph. Tedious to say the least. It seems a little unfair that you never have a helpful tailwind! Having said this, Onzo has developed a new characteristic (or ailment – depends on how you look at it) which we name ‘sudden unexpected zoom syndrome’ (SUZS). This is particularly noticeable today. It normally materialises on long flat sections of road that are so numerous in France: (as for straight roads the French would give the Romans a serious run for their money) after struggling, barely plodding along all morning, for no apparent reason we start to travel at a much higher speed. No warning, no change in conditions, it just happens. Grrr.

The book of occasional fiction tells us Beauvais has a grand Gothic Cathedral, amongst the highest in existence. On top of that it is famous for Gobelin tapestries. All sounds good. No one mentioned the horrific nauseating smell that lingers in the air all around the City. As we arrived we could smell it and as we walked to the Cathedral and into the Centre. We can only liken it to the smell that instantly hits you when you open a tin of cat or dog food. That sickly, pooey smell that somehow manages to envelope the room – yummy. Well, it was that. It was so bad, we decided to leave. Anyway, the Cathedral was shut for Lunch!!

The closed Cathedral

We decide to push on and head for Gornay en Bray. Camping is shown here in the book and it will provide the ideal stop over for our push to the Northern coast tomorrow, Honfleur being the place in mind. Gornay is also a disappointment, so we carry on. After leaving Gornay and heading towards Rouen we see a fair sized hill in the distance with a wind farm on top. Bearing in mind this is probably one of the windiest days we can remember, we found it odd that not one of the turbines was working? Why is this? Being British we couldn’t help but wonder if it is the wrong type of wind perhaps?

We spot a campsite on the outskirts of Rouen that is 2 star and may do the trick: St Leger du Bourg Denis (this is not the name of the campsite, but the nearby town). Word of warning, don’t stay here. We were greeted by some freaky in-bred dude who wanted far too much for what resembled a cow field with a dirty brick built shed. Apparently the shed thingy had a shower in it. This was extra though (€1.60) and you really wouldn’t wanna. Freaky in-bred dude looked similar to Rab C Nesbitt except with a bigger and redder nose and equally incomprehensible. Think food stains on shirt and grubby nicotined fingers. We presented him with a driving licence as I.D as requested which he stared at for ages then limped back into his shack, cradling it like it was DVLA gold. (Hello clone driving licence and someone else called Anouska!) We left pretty sharpish after managing to get it back.

Word of warning for those trying to exit Rouen towards Le Havre while avoiding motorways. Get the sat nav out cos it’s somewhat tricky. After several near misses and a lot of swearing and confusion, we find ourselves (admittedly through sheer luck and no design of our own) on the right road. Things instantly improve. The countryside gets prettier with little coastal looking villages bordering the Seine and we pootle along, eyes peeled for a campsite. We find one in the little hamlet of Jumieges. Ancient ruined abbey, beautiful little park, charming village, 4 star campsite for €20, all is nice. (Take note freaky in-bred dude). We arrive in sunshine, the first we’ve seen all day, but as soon as we decide to venture to the village, naturally, the heavens open. Sodden, we retreat to Onzo and get stuck into the Sunday Times and a bit of plotting and scheming for the week. Unfortunately weather stops play and we remain confined to barracks for the evening.

Ruins at Jumieges, reputedly some of the most beautiful in France, second only to Tournus and that is debatable.

Soissons, Vic sur Aisne to Jaulzy – Saturday 22nd and Sunday 23rd September

Ow. Again. A slow start to the day, but then freezing cold inhospitable swimming pool sorts us all out. Jon nearly breaks his coccyx on the slide, but all is well with the world. We arrange to convene after lunch and go and have a wander round Soissons. There is some talk about going Karting, but on arrival we find that the track is being dominated by a mini Schumacher, whose got a massive zoom on and refuses to stop (mind the last bend!), so we abandon that plan.

Soissons is small and pretty, we can’t go into the Cathedral as there’s a wedding on the go. Amelia sees the bride in all her finery and asks if this is a princess castle? Sweet. It did all look very fairy tale.

Spot the teeny bride

We have a brief mooch around (most of the town is closed due to a fire) and nip to a bar for the most expensive pint of Heineken ever. 4 drinks were nearly €20. The Bar was absolutely packed. Recession anyone?

Sunday sees us leave the campsite and travel the grand distance of 5kms to Jaulzy. Jon knows the area from a previous fishing trip. The week of fishing, (which has gone down in local legend with the lake owner and local bar) was 2 years ago and unbelievably is situated in the next village down the road from the campsite. Fate is definitely on side in this instance. The lake owner (Matt) has kindly agreed to spend some time with us to educate us in the intricacies that make up French bureaucracy and the pitfalls of buying a business in France. We spend a very pleasant hour with him and come away armed with much useful information. We adjourn to the local bar, La Rose de Sables (with which Jon is astonishingly familiar) for some thinking time. The local brew Bavik is somewhat savage and should only be consumed in small and manageable amounts. This was not factored into the equation on Jon’s previous fishing trip here and the results where somewhat catastrophic. Let’s just say that four collapses into the lake, a broken leg, broken ribs and one wheel chair accounted for a somewhat legendary status amongst the locals. Jon pleads innocence which is borne out by the welcome we receive upon entering the bar.

Momma, la patron, greets Jon like a long lost son. Food and beer are produced, plus the kind offer of parking in the car park at the back of the Bar. French hospitality knows no bounds it would appear. Thankfully all limbs remained unbroken and we steered clear of the lake.

Moma and her Grand Garcon...

After much attempting to chat with Momma at 100mph French we retire to Onzo, all happy and looked after. Tomorrow sees us heading further north towards the Normandy coast. A week of hard work lies ahead as we embark on the the next phase of this journey. 

Premery to Vic-sur-aisne via Auxerre Friday 21st September

The nights have turned really cold and we awake to one of those beautiful crisp clear cold autumnal mornings. After a peaceful quiet night and some excellent sleep (no doubt helped by the evil liquor) all cosied up in Onzo we are ready to zoom north. After a bit of admin (it’s not all play, honest!) and some reyt nice croissants we wave farewell to lovely campsite and hit the road.

Auxere is only a short hop north (65 km ish) and the journey is beautiful. A few gentle hill climbs, but nothing to startle Onzo, the countryside is like some perfect pastoral picture. The farmers are harvesting and the fields lie dusty and scorched for mile after mile. Bordered by thick forests and only the occasional old farmhouse to be seen, this is truly rural France. The difference is marked from earlier in the year when all the crops were growing, no there are no more nodding sunflowers, the corn fields are either already harvested or are looking slightly exhausted and sunburnt. It’s all tremendously beautiful, but you can see the labour that goes into maintaining such vast tracts of agricultural land. We find out that France is the largest agricultural exporter in the EU and is second only to the United States globally. When you drive through the land like this it’s not hard to see why.

We arrive at Auxerre and instantly find a place to park down by the river. It’s free and shady and perfect, thank you Auxerre! There are a few brits here, doing things to their house boats, they’re the most we’ve seen so far, but in no way do they impinge on our enjoyment of the city, they seem mostly boat bound. Auxerre is a delight. Beautiful Cathedral and lovely old streets, medieval houses bowed down with window boxes full of cascading flowers.

The city is blissfully empty of tourists, cafes are still lively and fun, but off season is definitely the way to do things. We visit the cathedral and have it almost entirely to ourselves, this somehow adds gravitas to the experience and we are struck by the solemnity of the moment. To top it off the organist begins to play, haunting and atmospheric, it’s a real treat, the icing on the cake. We dip into the holy water, thankful for life and love and hopeful for the future.  

The city is a bit like a mini Florence in some respects. It feels very well heeled, lots of boutiques, expensive shop windows and stylish people floating about, we guess that being so close to Paris there’s a bit of money in the air around here. We stretch to a tin of sardines and a baguette and dine overlooking the river, with the Cathedral lit by the sun on the opposite bank. Life is nice. Sadly we must go.

The unusually named marmite bar... you either love it or you hate it..

Our lunchtime view of Auxerre from the bridge

We leave Auxere with sun shining, but this quickly takes a turn for the worse, as does the scenery. We are confronted with mile after mile of arrow straight roads and flat countryside, dismal linear towns, bleak moody skies and then it starts to rain. We make the executive decision and decide to take advantage of crappy weather to make up some miles and get north. Jon’s mates Lard and Sarah and their nipper Amelia (to whom Jon is Godfather) are staying up near Soissons and we decide to zoom up to them and drop in for a bit of a Friday night rendez vous. By coincidence we have an appointment set up for the Sunday with a guy that runs his own business in France. We have an inkling that they might be in the same sort of area, (more of this later). Miles and more miserable miles later we finally arrive at their campsite. It’s vast!! We honestly didn’t know that camping could be so big. It’s so big, in fact, that when we ring Lard to tell them that we’ve arrived they have to get in the car to come and find us because they’re living at the opposite end of the site to where we are! Campsite ENORME!! It’s got three lakes, three pools, archery, zip wires the lot. We thought we’d seen Centre Parcs on steroids, but this is something else entirely. There are also loads of brits, more here than we’ve seen on the journey in total, but it’s got everything you could ever ask for, happy days.

We pop round to Lard and Sarah’s for a quick drink and catch up before hitting the hay after epic 200 mile drive. 8 bottles of wine later, sigh, getting lost trying to find Onzo in the dark (we’re on a campsite and still we get lost!), we finally manage to find bed. A thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining evening, little Amelia being a poppet, massive thanks to Lard and Sarah for their hospitality and for all the fun. 

Lapalisse to Premery – Thursday 20th September

Freezing cold morning! Crisp and alpine in its sharp blue clarity we decide that it’s far too cold to go and investigate the market that is setting up and decide to bail in the cool of the morning (Onzo approves) and get a wriggle on. We also have a major win in that we’ve established that Onzo’s central heating actually works! Tiny heater belting out loads of warmth, we’re warmed up in no time and feel fighting fit to attack the day. Zoom!!

We make excellent time and arrive at Premery where (again!!) we find excellent campsite the Plan D’Eau. For 11€ we get an awesome pitch, again bang next to a river, hook up, wi-fi and within two minutes of the town. The French really do know how to do this camping lark. A lazy sunny day, more fishing (there are, honestly no fish!), a wander round what appears to be a slightly dying town, but charming nonetheless. It’s a lovely day.

We treat ourselves to steak frites in town for dinner, get plied with more evil clear stuff by monsieur le Patron, (we didn’t even ask for it, they seem to just insist!) On this occasion we were instructed to dip a sugar cube in the evil liquor and eat it for additional effects! We decided one or two was enough and left before any further trouble came our way. We weaved our way home to snuggly Onzo, getting lost 2 or 3 times en route! A easy stroll would have seen us home in 5 minutes, our new and improved route exceeded 30 minutes! Tomorrow sees us heading to Auxerre, exciting! 

 

Balbigny to Lapalisse - Wednesday 19th September

EPIC shab. Shab ENORME . Ow. Ow. Ow. Whimper. Although the day dawns beautiful and sunny (the same cannot be said for the two of us), we have to hit the road to try and make some progress northwards. After a quick safety in the bar and fond farewells to Nicole and the two Philippes we get underway. This is extremely painful. Both of us are suffering and it doesn’t look like we’re going to get very far very fast! Determined not to be beaten we persevere nonetheless. The journey is actually remarkably pleasant, easy roads and sunny skies, beautiful scenery, we’re longing to get out and collapse in it. We spot a touristy type sign that promises an Aire and a Chateau and a pretty village, even though we haven’t made quite as much progress as we’d like we both agree that stopping is probably a good plan. Once again we have stumbled across a little gem. The aire is lovely (and free!) and backs onto said Chateau. We have arrived in Lapalisse.

It’s all very pretty and charming. We’re bang next to a river and the town is small and charming. Collapso heaven.

We go for a wander along the river and attempt a bit of Heath Robinson style fishing. Thankfully this doesn’t work as the fish that we very nearly caught was a bit of a monster and we would have struggled somewhat!

Tired and happy we give into the residual shab and have a (ridiculously) early night. 

Boulieu to Balbigny – Tuesday 18th September

The map shows a bright red squiggly line on the only road we can take out of Boulieu. This means it’s steep with hair pin bends. We are near the Massif Central so hills are to be expected – but all we seem to do is climb up monstrous hills. Please let us have a flat road!

Despite the incline the scenery is awesome. We climb through thick pine woods on either side heading towards the delightfully named St Etienne (sadly it’s an industrial forgettable place).There is definitely a hint of the Alps here as we pass  heavily gabled Alpine lodges.

We don’t have a stopping place in mind for this evening, so this is a journey into the unknown. Our only aim is to get near to Roanne (little do we now about what lies in wait!) The weather is awful. The rain is steady, the sky grey and we are passing though instantly forgettable towns. Similar to a journey through Birmingham on a wet November evening. Grim.

We find a campsite: La Route Bleu at Balbigny where we are greeted with a warm welcome and friendly helpfulness from Nicole and Philippe. For €16 we’ve got what seems to be half a country estate to park up in, hook up, there’s a pool, spotless facilities and there’s a river (the Loire) we can fish and everything. C’est bon. Unfortunately it’s still pissing down so we ignore all these delights and head straight for the bar for a quick beer before supper (note, ‘before supper’). The bar is closed when we get there, just les patrons and a mate sitting down to a bottle of red wine; nonetheless they very sweetly welcome us in for a nightcap (just a swift one).

6 hours later we stumble back to the van, totally and utterly ruined by one of the finest examples of French hospitality in the world ever. The two Philippes and Nicole have plied us with all manner of weird and wonderful French booze, (What was that bloody clear stuff??)  There have been tunes, shapes have been thrown and we are armed with a dinner invitation for Friday, where we are due to dine on a freshly shot Boar. For health reasons and commitments further north we have to leave, boo.  Do love the French, a really wonderful fun evening, thanks all!

All starts fairly calmly...

And swiftly degeneratess!

Sad to leave...