Tag Archives: France

The French Connection – Pt 5

08 Thursday Nov 2012

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Friday 19th October

The wind was still blowing, but as we had stored the awning canopy the previous day, we didn’t have a night of tapping and banging. The site was in darkness as I crept outside to start disconnecting things. Sue was tidying away all the loose items inside and I started at the back of the van….. the Thetford Cassette was first. Thankfully I didn’t have to empty it by torchlight as Phillip had installed lights over the Elsan point and Grey water point. Next came the wastehog followed by the aquaroll and finally the EHU lead. By the time Sue had finished we were ready to wind the steadies up. I had intended to use the manual handle, but unfortunately I’d parked too close to the rear wall so I had to use the Makita which seemed to sound like a road drill in the darkness. Apologies to anyone if it woke them.

We turned the caravan at an angle by hand, so that it was a quick reverse straight on to the hitch and I didn’t have to have the engine running too long. We coupled up, connected the break-away cable and the 13 pin plug, released the van’s hand brake and jumped in the Freelander. I started the engine and allowed the outfit to roll gently down the slight hill in first gear without any throttle. We crept past Chris and Fran’s van before turning on to the small lane and climbing up the incline to the cross roads. It was 7:18 as we pulled away. Sue had a couple of small bags of rubbish and a bag of empty bottles and a bag of paper for the recycling bin. Rather than stop and use the ones just outside the camping area, we followed the road out and at the next cross roads there were more bins so we stopped and, while Sue tried to silently drop glass bottles into a glass recycling bin, I programmed up the Sat-Nav…. “Camping Risle Seine”….”fastest route”…. “accept toll roads”…….. “planning route – 716 Km to go”.

We followed the narrow road towards the D704. In places the wind had brought down a lot of small branches from the surrounding trees, but nothing that couldn’t be avoided by driving around. Within a few minutes we were on the D704 heading past Montignac and on towards the D6089 and Terrasson. The wind was quite light and I didn’t really notice it towing the van. Once on the A89 there were a couple of the warning signs telling us of strong winds, but I didn’t think that they were excessive and they didn’t seem to be pulling me about even when we crossed some of the viaducts. Once on the A20 the signs weren’t warning us about the wind any more and I allowed the Freelander to accelerate back up to 55 MPH.

It was approaching 9:55AM as we pulled into one of the Aires, the ESSO station at Bois Mande. I brimmed the tank again and it took 37.16 litres. We had covered 257 miles since the last fill up so averaged 31.4 MPG. This was a quick fuel stop and by 10:05 we were pulling back on to the A20. The rattle was back a little. I did notice that on some of the long inclines I was having to change down a gear which normally the Freelander will hold 55 MPH towing even if it won’t accelerate. We settled in for the long haul.

We had left the Autoroute and were on the N10 heading for the A13 on the outskirts of Versailles and the traffic was starting to build up. I didn’t really want to tangle with traffic but there you go, we had had it good up to now. As we were on a duel carriage way not quite on the Autoroute all three lanes were at a crawl and we weren’t sure why. Then we heard it… the familiar sound from dozens of films, including the Inspector Clouseau Pink Panther films… that slightly asthmatic out of tune two note siren that I cannot take seriously. I could still hear it as it was getting louder and louder… I checked in the mirrors … nope nothing. Opening the window a bit more to establish some sense of direction did not help…. it was still getting louder. Then I saw it, well actually I saw several cars in my left hand mirror parting slowly, creating a gap, then closing in back round it. I still couldn’t see anything except this gap moving closer. There it was, a tiny dark coloured Renault with one blue light in the windscreen and a screeching siren. I have a brighter torch than that tiny pathetic blue light. He pushed down the side of the caravan with his door mirror less than half an inch from leaving a big scar down the side. A second siren sounded….. this time I was prepared and I moved over to the right as another car squeezed past, its out of tune siren clearing the way and a tiny blue light in the front windscreen. Seriously guys…. GET SOME MAHOOSIVE STROBE LIGHTS FOR THE ROOF! traffic will clear much faster for you.

As I’d moved over, I’d committed the cardinal sin of driving on French roads, I’d let the gap in front increase to about 6 feet. Well that was it. A woman with a 500 Euro hair doo in a massive shiny black Mercedes 4×4 who was on the phone, while programming a sat-nav with what seemed like a 40 inch hi-def screen, and simultaneously handing out snacks to two children on the back seat pulled in and stopped dead in front of me. She was obviously a veteran of the “Arc de Triumph” roundabout. After another 10 minutes it became obvious what the hold up was. As the road narrowed down to two lanes on the opposite carriageway there was a small car on the hard shoulder that was well alight…. parked immediately behind it was a fire engine with a fireman stood in front with a small hose that seemed to be watering it rather than trying to put the inferno out. Amazingly, cars were still passing in lanes one and two. OK, so they did slow down a bit… but that was while they warmed their croissants as they passed. The whole holdup only took 20 minutes from joining the back of the queue to Sue warming the croissants.

If that was on the UK motorway the Highways Agency would have closed all three lanes on one side and probably the opposite carriageway too while several fire engines and half a dozen police cars would have cordoned off the danger zone, and five miles back in the queue of traffic the tarmac lads would be waiting to re-tarmac the area, and the motorway would open six hours later.

It was approaching my bladder capacity limit (how Sue can hang on for longer I’ll never know!) and at 15:10 we pulled into the BP Aire at Louviers. As we pulled in the Freelander was feeling down on power again. I’d not noticed it much apart from in the long climbs but it was hard to judge really. I filled up to the brim again, this time with a treat…. BP Ultimate Diesel. 48.58 litres and we’d done 260 miles since the last stop, so an average of 24.3 MPG this time. We were back on the road by 15:15…. I’d managed in my best French to actually tell the girl which pump I was on and pay for the fuel. I also asked where I could get some cigars and even managed to ask for the right ones in the kiosk without once having to revert to English and gesticulations. I just wish Sue was in the service station with me instead of being sat in the car… she would have been so proud that all the correcting me each time was paying off. I felt really chuffed.

We eventually arrived back at Camping Risle Seine at 16:25 after a drive of 440 miles (708 Km), and a total trip time of 9 hours and 7 minutes. I was so glad we didn’t have any driving to do tomorrow. We had to wait until the office opened and just hoped that as we were a day early, they could fit us in…. which didn’t seem like a problem as most of the pitches were empty. There was another English couple with a twin axle van waiting when we arrived. They had already had a wander round and said they thought the pitches were too waterlogged and would probably drive further north for an hour or so. I did not want to drive further north, and as Pitch 1 was vacant I knew that the ground was firm as we had been on it a few days earlier. Ten minutes later we were settled on pitch 1, hooked up and power on.

We took a trip into Pont Audemer to visit the Intermarche. We stocked up on bottled water to put in the car and bought some rather nice fresh smoked salmon. Later “One Hairy Caravanner” donned his apron and cooked a spicy risotto with smoked salmon.

Saturday 20th October

It was a lazy start to the day. The rain had returned overnight, but it wasn’t torrential so we decided that wandering into Pont Audemer and maybe finding somewhere to have a coffee and croissant while doing a spot of people watching was just the thing for a Saturday morning.

Top Tip: don’t head for one of the car parks…. there are plenty of free parking spaces on the quay side… “Quai Felix Faure” on the map and walk down Rue Notre-Dame du Pre and cut across to the town centre.

Pont Audemer is actually a little gem of a town. It has a history going back to the 12th century and some fantastic architecture.  In the 18th century, the English settled there and introduced tanning and paper making and it became the centre for

 various different trades. After doing a bit of window shopping, we found a nice little street cafe on ‘Rue de la Republique’ to sit  and watch the world pass by.

Saturday was obviously a get out there, buy the longest French loaf you can, then wander round with it and greet anyone else who carries a similar loaf like a long-lost friend type of day. We sat and watched as people wandered past, loaves in hand. In fact it was hard to spot someone without a loaf… even the children seemed to have smaller loaves of their own. We felt we needed a loaf… we must have a loaf.  Were people looking at us because we didn’t have a loaf… were they shouting “Regardez, le n’ai pas de pain“…. we set off to buy a loaf…. and a newspaper for Sue, who was getting quite irritated that she’d not been able to read a paper for three days. “Oh non, c’était l’heure du déjeuner, tout était fermé” It was lunchtime and everywhere was closing. We called off the search for ‘pain’ and instead turned our attention on where to go for lunch.

We wandered down Rue de la Republique and into Place Victor Hugo, where they have a fantastic water feature. At each cafe we inspected the menu… the translation was becoming somewhat easier and even I found I was reading in French knowing what it was and not doing the mental translation flip in my head. That was of course until I came across an item on the menu I didn’t know and it fell apart. Sue seemed to be faring better. We finally ended up across from where we had started back on Rue de la Republique almost opposite the cafe we had sat at. Out of all the different cafe’s offering a wide variety of food, we chose one that did fresh hand-made stone baked pizzas. We ordered a couple of pizzas, a salad for Sue and a bottle of local house wine. You know, I could get used to this life!

That evening I managed a minor miracle…. I managed to get my Vodaphone dongle to connect and we had internet! We needed somewhere to stay when we got off the ferry in Dover. I looked at the map and Warwick was on our route and about half way home. The Caravan Club have a site at Warwick Racecourse, so five minutes later we were all booked in and I received a confirmation email… on my laptop not my iPhone, which thanks to Everything Everywhere (now renamed Nothing Nowhere) all my iPhone could do was display “No Service”.

Next time….. We revisit one of Bonnie Tyler’s greatest hits, we do a Blues Brothers impression and we thank the UK Border Agency.

S

Click here for:-

The French Connection Pt 1

The French Connection Pt 2

The French Connection Pt 3

The French Connection Pt 4

The French Connection – Finale

The French Connection – Pt 4

07 Wednesday Nov 2012

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Tuesday 16th October

(c) Michelin 2012

Well, the rain returned overnight. Peering out through the windows of the caravan, to those of us from Manchester…. (that would be me and Sue then), it looked like it was set for the day. There wasn’t any ‘soft roading’ action planned for today, so it looked like a trip out to Sarlat, about 25 Km south, was on the cards. There wasn’t much hurry so a leisurely start to the day  with twenty minutes of trying to decipher the local TV news ensued. We left the site around 10:30 and headed south along the D704 towards Sarlat and I at least hoped that I would be able to find a nice pavement cafe and have a petit déjeuner croissant and coffee while watching the world pass by.

The Freelander was running much better than it had been and we followed the road, past some impressive piles of logs, without any rattling from the engine. We arrived in Sarlat and followed the signs for the town centre. We managed to park in a small car park up a hill at the back of the main shopping street and for a reasonable one Euro got four hours of parking. Sue found a brolly in the door pocket of the Freelander and we wandered back down to the main shopping street. Despite the drizzle, I decided that having the collected contents of the top of the umbrella repeatedly emptied on one shoulder while being poked in the forehead by the pointy bits of the brolly with similar frequency was slightly more annoying than getting wet in the drizzle. After a brief look at an engraved map of the town to get our bearings, we set off in the general direction of the hub of things.

Wandering down a side street we came across a tower next to the church that has a number of market stalls inside, but what made this really impressive was the size of the door. I’ve seen some mahoosive sliding doors on hangers, but this was the biggest swing door I’d ever seen. I don’t have a photo of it as I’d left my camera in the car due to the inclement weather. I must upgrade my iPhone to one with a few megapixels… that would be a start. Mind you If I remembered my iPhone had a camera, that would be an even better start.

Wandering past the shops and peering in the windows, it became apparent that Sarlat was the centre of “duck and goose abuse” with the amount of shops all specialising in or selling Foie Gras. It also seemed to be the centre of tinned, bottled and generally pre-package “cassoulet” too. Well I guess they have to do something with the other bits of the ducks and geese they have left. Most of the pavement cafe’s were preparing for the lunch time rush, so we wandered on and came full circle back on to the main shopping thoroughfare. We eventually came across a cafe that had tables outside that were sheltered from the rain and sat down. Sue went inside and ordered coffee and Stella… well it was nearly lunchtime. We sat and watched the shops up and down the street. It was approaching lunchtime and as the local clock chimed out one o’clock lights went off, shutters dropped and signs in doors were flipped over to “fermé”.

A few years earlier we had sat outside at a pavement cafe serving tapas in Gerona, and witnessed the spectacle of everything shutting for two hours while lunch was taken. Then, as now, we thought how civilised, and always thought of office and shop workers in the UK that seem all too frequently have to have a lunchtime snack sat at their desk or workplace.

As the shops started to open again after lunch, we paid the bill and headed off back to the car. I never did get my petit déjeuner croissant. At least the rain had eased. Leaving the centre of Sarlat via the one way system we passed a number of motor-homes parked up in car parks. It would seem that some towns have facilities for overnight stops for motor-homes. The Freelander was still behaving itself as we turned north on the D704.

That afternoon Sue caught up on the news from home in a paper we had managed to obtain while I got my Macbook out and started drafting “The French Connection – Pt 1” That evening we polished off the remainder of the cheese and meats we had bought the day before with some more fresh bread we collected on the way back from Sarlat.

Wednesday 17th October

Wednesday morning – high cloud breaking up with a 4 knot breeze out of the south-west

Wednesday started with more promise than Tuesday had done. It had stopped raining sometime in the night and looking out, the clouds were high and breaking up. All in all it looked like a good day for more off road adventures. Phillip had said on Monday that today would be a bit more challenging with a number of different surfaces. The departure time was again 11:30 am so we had a leisurely start to the day. We had another go at deciphering the local news, without much success, but we did find out that some French stations ‘simulcast’ the original English language soundtrack of programmes that have been dubbed into French. Quite useful as we had now watched the entire set of “Gavin & Stacey” including the Christmas editions that I’d copied on to a portable hard drive….. lush. At least now that evening we could watch “The Big Bang Theory” in English on the local tv channel.

We all assembled at the gate around 11:30 again. Phillip said we would be stopping for lunch at a spectacular view-point and the tracks today would be a little more challenging as they were not used as much and covered a different variety of surfaces, including flint. We set off initially on the same route we had done on Monday.

The view of La Tournerie across the valley.

Phillip explaining to Sue the history of La Tournerie while in the background Chris gets another shot across the valley

This time however, the view across the valley was not obscured in low cloud and offered an excellent view of La Tournerie.

We stopped there while everyone took a couple of photos and people chatted. Although we all knew each other via the various caravanning forums and had many ‘conversations’ on line, we had not actually sat down and talked except for small interludes like this.

We set off again in convoy. Despite all the rain the previous day the ground was firm and dry. Phillip explained that this year had been a particularly dry summer across the region and they needed all the rain they could to help build up reserves for next summer.

The tracks this time were more overgrown than the previous adventure. I’d pushed the button to swing the door mirrors into the parked position and hoped that the others had remembered to do the same. The surface changed from fairly compact limestone to a less compact and rough local rock. In a couple of places I’d used the Freelander’s “Hill Decent Control” on the steep sections as Ray’s Toyota Hilux which was in front of us locked up its rear wheels occasionally and slid on the loose surface. At the bottom of some descents  the track was rutted and deep in mud, none of which caused any problems to any of the 4 x 4’s.

Damage to the rim after sliding off a lump of flint (click to enlarge)

The surface changed to broken flint, which can be particularly hard on tyres. The trick here was not to rush sections and let the wheels find their own course. Trying to turn sharply or spinning the wheels would probably result in a puncture with a piece of flint being driven through the side wall. Thankfully we all completed the section without punctures, although I did pickup some damage to the front near side rim when I slid off a rock and it kicked up.

The hill we were heading up for lunch

Philips promise of lunch at a spectacular viewpoint proved to be spot on. At the top of a 200 foot escarpment was an area where the local paragliders fling themselves off the edge and fly down, missing the power lines on the way, and descend into the grounds of a local Chateau.

We all managed to park up wedged in amongst the trees at the edge of a clearing. Walking to the edge gave a spectacular view of the valley below and across the valley was something that was familiar to Sue and I, a runway tucked on to the side of the hill on the other side of the valley…..

Wendy had once again provided an outstanding buffet… I can heartily recommend her home made sausage rolls complete with home made sausages and a rather fine tuna pasta that demanded seconds… or thirds even.

After lunch we tracked back down the hill and across through the grounds of one of the châteaux that was undergoing a massive restoration and rebuild. Some of the trails were a little more challenging and you could tell these were not as well-travelled as others we had been on. In winter some of these would be a bit of a challenge and I could see some of the tracks could need a bit of winching here and there. All too soon we were back at La Tournerie. The weather was warm and sunny with a light breeze so I thought it was time for my alter ego “One Hairy Caravanner” to don his apron and deploy the Cadac. The only problem was… we needed a few supplies. A trip to the Intermarche  store in Montignac was required.

That evening “One Hairy Caravanner” donned his apron, fired up the Cadac to its ‘blast furnace’  setting and created “pan-fried new potatoes with chorizo and seared butterfly pork steak with a cayenne pepper drizzle” washed down with a rather lush white wine Sue had chosen. Unfortunately  the wind was starting to pick up a little which required some delicate positioning of the Cadac lid as a wind break so we sat inside to dine. This is also the reason there are no photos of “One Hairy Caravanner” creating his masterpiece…. either that or Sue had spent too much time sampling and deciding on which wine to have with the meal.

PS… Sue wanted me to mention she also had some sliced tomatoes with a light vinaigrette as an accompaniment. There, mentioned it.

That evening after washing up and cleaning the Cadac (by the way, if you have a Cadac and haven’t tried the foam cleaner, give it a go… I think it’s fantastic!), we battened down the hatches as the wind was continuing to build up and we ended up watching a James Bond DVD that was part of a collection of DVD’s thoughtfully provided on a shelf in the ‘facilities block’ along with a selection of books.

Thursday 18th October

It was windy during the night, in fact on a few occasions particularly strong gusts felt like the caravan was lifting on one side. I got up a couple of times to check on the Fiamma Caravanstor awning. Although on the leeward side of the van it was having a severe flap, along with a metallic tapping sound which seemed to be right above our heads and a low thumping sound. I popped out a couple of times but could not see anything. I did however frighten the bejesus out of a rabbit that was taking shelter under our caravan step!

While the kettle was on for our morning coffee, I went out to investigate the sounds a little further…. the metallic tapping sound was actually the little finger grip part of the zip that closes the Caravanstor bag. It was in a position that allowed the wind to lift the bag and it would tap lightly on the side of the van. Closing the zip a little soon stopped that one and the thumping was… well I never did find out. After coffee Sue and I rolled up the awning and zipped it back in its bag which considering the wind, which I guess was blowing 30 knots, was quite easy to do.

As a pilot, I’d always been told “if you have a problem try to take it home, it’s always easier to solve back in your own hangar rather than sat in some remote airfield“. Obviously safety of the pax and crew always overrides this. The problem with the Freelander was still gnawing away in the back of my mind and on Saturday we had a drive of 440 miles to our overnight, then another 110 miles in the early morning to the ferry terminal. I think I’d already made the decision a couple of days earlier, but now I was convinced, we needed to leave a day early just in case, so that meant we would be leaving tomorrow. I thought if we can complete the 440 mile part of the return trip, I would have at least 24 hours to sort any problems and have a good break before potentially having to nurse the Freelander the remaining 110 miles before I could get her back on home turf. When planning the trip, I had taken out Red Pennant insurance, so if we did have a big problem, help was only a phone call away.

Thursday was a bit of an odd day one way or another. We spent some time tidying the van ready for the trip back. We decided that as it was potentially going to be a 9 hour drive it would be best to leave early… around 7:00AM. Another trip to the local Intermarche store to stock up on wine…. well when they were selling 3 litre boxes of good wine for 6 or 7 Euros, it would be silly not to take some back for testing!

It seemed that Chris and Fran must have had similar ideas as we met them in the car park. Chris had also just picked up the wheel for his caravan after having a new tyre fitted. It was also a chance to get the Freelander washed…. Phillip had actually managed to find some genuine French “splash it all over” mud the previous day and the Freelander was covered in it. Chris had similar ideas and pulled his truck on to the jet wash next to ours. I spent the afternoon with a spray of Dry Wash cleaning off streaks on the van and giving the Freelander a spruce up. This also included emptying all the door pockets of accumulated toll receipts and other bits of paperwork that weren’t needed. The wind was still blowing quite strong, although as we had descended from the hilltop that La Tournerie is on it abated somewhat, in fact in the Intermarche car park it wasn’t blowing at all.

Next time….. The long road north, a small fire in Versailles and will we make the ferry?

S

Click here for:-

The French Connection Pt 1

The French Connection Pt 2

The French Connection Pt 3

The French Connection Pt 5

The French Connection – Finale

The French Connection – Pt 3

06 Tuesday Nov 2012

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We rattled our way into Terrasson, which was shut on a Sunday. Even without the weight of the caravan in tow I could tell the Freelander was down on power and pulling away from stationary it was a challenge not to stall the engine. Luckily the local Intermarche supermarket had a couple of unattended self service fuel pumps so I could at least top up with hopefully some different fuel. Filling the tank to the brim again took 24.12 litres and the mileage now read 62445, so we had done 257 miles since the last fill up and now averaged 25.6 MPG. We pulled out of the Intermarche filling station and stopped a few hundred meters later outside a bank…. time to top up the Euro’s. I had a sneaking feeling that we may need quite a few if the Freelander ended up in a garage.

However, pulling away from the bank, the Freelander was feeling much better, not fully fit, but off the critical list. I had now convinced myself that on the balance of probability and with what Chris had said, it was down to the fuel. We drove back to La Tournerie in a slightly less rattley Freelander.

Monday 15th October

Err….. where did everything go?

Today was our first venture ‘soft road’. Phillip had briefed everyone to be ready to go at 11:30. We woke up around 7:30 and peered out of the windows…. where did everything go?. We were enveloped in cloud. As most of the Dordogne is on the edge of the ‘central massif’ we were at around 2000 feet above sea level, so basically we were sat in a cloud. Not knowing the local weather systems I didn’t know if this would clear in an hour or sit there all day. However, as there was a three or four knot breeze, at least it should blow through, and within twenty minutes it had started to thin out.

More caravans appear out of the clouds!

By 9:30 it was thin enough to see the outlines of clouds above so it would not be too long before it had gone completely. At the appointed hour people started appearing and the 4 x 4’s lined up at the gate with Philips blue Defender at the front. I had been undecided if it was a good idea to go on the off road trip with the Freelander engine not being performing 100 percent, but after adding the fuel yesterday and seeing the difference, I thought at least using more fuel and topping up again would at least dilute the ‘iffy’ fuel already in the tank. Anyway, there were enough 4 x 4’s there to be able to recover me out of almost any situation and I’d got my bag of off roading stuff in the back – collapsible solid tow link, recovery ropes, strops, shackles, hand winch, kinetic recovery rope and a couple of ground anchors.

Morning briefing…..

Phillip gave us a briefing on the type of roads we would be travelling on and their history. France is criss-crossed by small tracks used by the “chasse” (the hunt). Each weekend, groups of locals head out into the countryside using these tracks. They park up and disappear into the woods armed with rifles to basically shoot anything that actually moves…. from wild boar to sparrows…. and including each other sometimes. Thankfully Monday was not a hunting day for the locals. Apparently there are tens of thousands of kilometers of these roads all over France. Considering how few ‘green lanes’ we have in the UK and how busy some of them can be, especially over bank holiday weekends, I am surprised there isn’t an invasion of UK 4×4’s trying out these roads.

Our first stop…. to admire the view across the valley to La Tournerie…. honest it’s there! 

When off roading don’t get too close to the vehicle in front just in case they have a problem, you want to be able to keep winching distance away just in case.

…. next stop lunch!

Wendy provided a splendid buffet lunch, including rather nice local wine – for the non drivers of course! The sun finally broke through and the sky cleared as well.

The buffet clean up department wait patiently in the back of Phillip’s Defender until called on for food disposal duty.

Back on the trail. Despite it being October, autumn had not yet reached this far south.

Every so often the trail opened up and you passed by a small field that was being cultivated…

The trails were easy and ideal for first time off roading. It allows anyone to explore the hidden world off the beaten track.

Beside the river in Montignac

All to soon we found ourselves back at La Tournerie. The trails had been mainly dry and fairly easy to negotiate, ideal for ‘soft roading’. I still wanted to see if I could get some diesel additive, so we set off to go into Montignac for a wander round. The Freelander had spent the last three or so hours on tick-over in first or second gear and had performed admirably and I hadn’t really noticed any problems. The rattle was still there on tick-over though and the low end power seemed lacking. We parked up close to the river and walked through some of the back streets following the riverbank towards the old bridge.   The sun was shining, and even for October it was quite warm. Wandering past some of the old streets it always fascinates me that places always seem deserted with shutters over windows and no signs of life in a lot of buildings except for the occasional cat sat sunning itself on a balcony looking down on us feigning disinterest but watching our every move.

Crossing the old bridge we found a small ‘Tabac’ and “Presse’ and Sue managed to get an English newspaper and I bought some cigars which was strange really as I’d stopped smoking cigars quite a while ago. I guess my stress levels over the Freelander kicked in. We walked along one of the streets until it opened out into a small square surrounded by cafes. Apart from a young couple sat at a table outside one cafe both smoking cigarettes and hanging on the last drops of coffee in tiny cups, and an old gentleman sat outside a doorway of what seemed to be an private house, the square was deserted. We followed the edge of square and stopped to admire some of the wares on display in the patisserie window. A small alley led us back to the river and we walked back towards the old bridge. Crossing the bridge again and heading in the general direction of the car park we passed a few more shops and what I think was the town hall. As we had not planned anything for an evening meal, and the weather was so nice, it looked like there might be a chance of deploying the Cadac.  We wandered back to the car and set off for the local Intermarche for supplies.

While Sue wandered off checking out the price of wine and varieties on offer in the extensive wine section, I was drawn to the tool and hardware section of the local Intermarche supermarket. I wandered past shelves of tools and hardware – thinking some would make welcome additions to my workshop, when I came across the car spares section and looking through all the oils on display there was a shelf that was full of a range of diesel and petrol additives. Donning the reading glasses in a vain hope it would help me to decipher the French instructions on one of the bottles I admitted defeat…. and headed off to find Sue who had the French dictionary in her handbag. After much page turning and some speculation on the deciphering of the instructions, including swopping of reading glasses as Sue had left hers back in the caravan, two bottles of Diesel additive were dropped into the trolley…. along with two or three bottles of wine and a 3 litre box of sauvignon blanc we then headed off to the food section.

Long shadows cast by the setting sun, but still warm enough for some to sit out while Sue tests the wine!

I had added some of the diesel additive to the Freelander. It made a big improvement almost immediately. At least I was now almost certain that it was not an issue with the engine but fuel related. On tick-over the engine sounded almost normal and the low down pulling power had returned. I did start thinking as there was a shelf full of different additives in the local supermarket, was this a known issue by the French and they just solved the problem by adding stuff to their tanks?

We ended up not deploying the Cadac as we had found a fine selection of local cheeses, meats, garlic olives and good artisan bread…. and a couple of bottles of nice wine to accompany it with. Oh yes…. Sue had some salad as well.

The end to a very pleasant day

Next time……. We get wet in Sarlat and go shopping again!

Click here for:-

The French Connection Pt 1

The French Connection Pt 2

The French Connection Pt 4

The French Connection Pt 5

The French Connection – Finale

The French Connection – Pt 1

04 Sunday Nov 2012

Posted by in General, Travelling In Europe, Trips

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Sometime back in January or February I’d posted something on Caravan Talk about arranging an off-road weekend for anyone that towed with a 4×4. It was really for anyone that had never actually experienced taking their 4×4 off-road before and if they would be interested in a camping weekend at one of the many off-road centers. I’d been in contact with a couple of the well-known establishments offering courses and they seemed to like the idea and could arrange for caravans to either stay local or in one case actually on their own land.

The response was a bit pathetic and no one seemed to show any real interest which was disappointing. However, as a result of that thread one of the other members said there were lots of good trails around his site – La Tournerie Ferme,  near Montignac and why not come down to give that a try. The trails were fairly easy, offered various types of surface and would not be the full on “winch it out at every obstacle” tracks…. it would be more ‘soft road’ than ‘off road’ but would be good fun and an easy introduction to off-roading. It would also be a fantastic opportunity for anyone that had never ventured further than a pitch with wet grass in their 4×4 to see exactly what their tow vehicle could do. So the “Soft Roading Adventure” idea was born and Phillip posted info about it on the various caravan forums. Within a couple of weeks there were enough people interested that Phillip arranged a date at the end of the season in early October.

Thursday 11th October

We left home about 8:00 to go and pick the caravan up from storage. The previous day we had been over to the caravan and loaded almost everything except the stacking boxes that travel in the back of the Freelander with us. These boxes from The Really Useful Box Company contain the cooking ingredients and essentials and another box that had fresh orange juice and small bottles of water. I’d also checked the nose weight with the calibrated Milenco do-hicky while we were there and we were 10Kg over our ideal weight of 95Kg. Relocating the Cadac from the front locker to the Freelander put us spot on 95 Kg’s.

We rolled out of the storage place dead on 8:40 AM and threaded or way through the morning peak in the rush hour traffic on the M60. We passed Manchester Airport and settled in the inside lane that took us to the junction with the A556 and then to eventually pickup the M6 heading south. The traffic on the M6 was not too bad and we made good time eventually pulling in to Norton Caines services on the M6 toll road around 10:20 for a quick leg stretch and loo break. The rest of the M6 and all the way down the M1 was also fairly easy-going traffic wise.

Last time we headed down the M1 with a caravan in tow was before we bought this van and we had hired a Crystal Morea for a week to give caravanning a try. Then we hit the M25 at peak Friday rush hour traffic en route to Kelveden Hatch in Essex.  This time we fared better and cruised round the M25 and over the Queen Elizabeth bridge without any delays, arriving at Canterbury at 14:30 after traveling 276 miles.

We were shown to our pitch and set up fairly quickly.  We needed to be away first thing so it was not a major unpack of everything, just the essentials. I’d been busy the couple of days before with Anthony sorting out the first engine start of the new plane he’s built – I designed and constructed the electrical system so had to be there really. The other thing was sorting out Santa’s float for my old Rotary club. I’d designed a replacement for the previous one that had seen over 40 years of service, but old age  had taken its toll and the club had decided a replacement was required. The float bit went OK and I collected it from the steel fabricators to take to my good friend Harry who was going to secure it to the new trailer and build sleigh runners. However the first engine start did not go as well and after just over two minutes of running resulted in a totally seized brand new engine. Ouch.

The result of all this was that I had been a bit pre-occupied and so I hadn’t organised any Euros…. with the exception of an old 5 Euro note I had found mixed in with a load of US dollar notes from past trips. It meant a visit to the local Post Office in Canterbury to exchange sterling for Euro’s…. and if we had time a trip to the old sweet shop we had discovered last time. The ‘Locally’ app on my iPhone soon found the nearest Post Office and we set off in the rain that had started just as we were un-hitching the caravan. We parked up and walked to the Post Office. With 300 Euro’s safely tucked in my wallet, we set off into the centre of Canterbury for a quick bit of window shopping to get the last couple of bits and hopefully to find the sweet shop we had found last time. We ended up dodging from shop canopy to shop canopy as the rain turned from that light drizzle to “its set for the day” grey solid rain.

Address and phone number for "Mr Simms"

Address and phone number for “Mr Simms Sweet Shop”

Sue spotted it first as she peered out from under a shop canopy – “Mr Simms Olde Sweet Shoppe“. A stock of the required Coltsfoot Rock, Cough Candy and Sue’s soft Wine Gums was purchased and we headed back out into the wet greyness.

We walked back to the Freelander and programmed the GPS for the nearest filling station which just happened to be Morrison’s. We set off to fill up ready for the following day. It took 45.05 Litres to fill to the brim, at a reading of 294 miles. 276 was towing so we averaged 28.4 MPG on the way down towing, plus 18 miles running around without the van on the back.

Friday 12th October

Parked up waiting for the ferry at Dover

Up early and everything stowed away by 7:55 am we were hitched up and pulling out of Canterbury C & CC site. It’s quite an easy and short trip – about 19 miles from the site to the Ferry terminal at Dover and by 8:45 we were parked up waiting for the ferry.

I took the chance to stick on the ‘beam benders’ to the headlights and check over everything – break-away cable, hitch, tyres, everything checked out OK and the beam benders seemed to be sticking like thingy to a blanket. I’d read that a couple of people had experienced them dropping off.

We were one of the first to board… I guess they wanted the trucks in a particular position and so we found ourselves behind an estate car that was pulling a twin axle trailer that deciphering stickers on the trailer looked as though it was destined for Poland. Following the wild gesticulations of the chap in front of the Freelander I pulled up as close as the man in the orange jacket further down the deck wanted and waited till he’d walked behind us gesticulating wildly to the next vehicle to close up to the rear of our caravan. I double checked the vehicle hand brake was on and we locked the car and headed off upstairs. My stomach was letting me know it was time for breakfast…. or ‘petit déjeuner’

Err….. that’ll be France then under that cloud….

As we were one of the first to board, we were also one of the first into the restaurant which meant we could get a table with a view. Mind you, even after we had left port the ferry was that quiet there were plenty of tables with a view.

The crossing between Dover and Dunkirk takes a little under 2 hours… so we had a little under two hours to watch the clouds build over France into a dark line marking the coast. Looking back towards Dover… the white cliffs looked resplendent in the  sunshine we were leaving. Flying was so much easier…. at least you knew that ten minutes after take off you would be putting your sunglasses on no matter what the weather was ‘downstairs’.

My GPS….. ‘Go that way Pointing’ by Sue

We pulled off the ferry at exactly 13:15 local. We had around a three-hour drive to our first campsite, Risle-Seine just outside Pont-Audemer, west of Rouen.

The GPS Sat-Nav was programmed with the camp site, we chose ‘fastest route’ and we accepted the toll road option. However, the sat-nav seemed to have come over all French and decided the fastest route was through the centre of Paris. Hmm, I wonder if the GPS companies in revenge for having to remove all the French speed cameras decided to route everyone via Paris. We soon sorted it and were off on our merry way and within thirty minutes, the skies were getting brighter, the cloud was thinning and blue was starting to appear.

Driving on French roads… well Autoroutes only so far, was easy. The traffic was lighter and the roads were smooth lacking the lorry ruts that stretch up and down the first two lanes of most of the motorways in the UK. Towing at 60 MPH was more stable than 50 MPH on some UK motorways and I was happy towing at 60. There are a number of long climbs and descents on the E402 (A16 – A28) but with care these are not a problem and we found that with a bit of planning we were not holding anyone up. Around an hour into our drive south, the clouds had returned and the cloud base was now so low, the white marker lights on the tops of the wind turbines were lighting up the inside of the clouds and below each glowing cloud hung a ghostly white pedestal that touched the ground. It was now pissing down. No other way to describe it, it was a torrential downpour and the wind was increasing. We are from Manchester, so are almost ‘Rain Miester’s’ and we know ‘pissing down’ when we see it, but this was rain of biblical proportions.

The road had disappeared and was just a ribbon of water, with a barrier at one side and a ditch at the other, which was rapidly filling up. I looked in the towing mirrors, the caravan was hiding behind a plume of water being pumped there by the back tyres. It was a good job that the Michelin tyres we had fitted a few months earlier had an “outstanding” rain rating. Despite the conditions it seemed that nothing would slow down the lorries. They would sneak up in your blind spot… right behind the caravan… then suddenly pull out and whizz past, then pull back in almost as abruptly. Now I know why so many continental’s have rear view cameras fitted!

Around 50Km from Rouen, still in the rain, the GPS showed we were to follow the A29. We had expected to continue on the A28 into Rouen and round the town on the outer road and continue west on the A13… to Pont Audemer… and Camping Risle Seine was just on the western edge of the town. That’s what I’d expected when planning the route on Google Earth. I’d looked at the roads in street view and hadn’t thought it would be a problem. Maybe the GPS knew something about Rouen and Pont Audemer we didn’t.

The blue route was what we expected…. the red route across the toll bridge is what we got…. and the green route was how we should have departed

We followed its directions, and eventually ended up on the wrong side of the Seine with the directions to cross a mahoosive but impressive toll bridge on the D6178/A131 and once over follow the D6178. It took another 35 minutes to eventually arrive at the campsite after I’d started to ignore the directions of the sat-nav and use instinct and the snippet of knowledge I’d gained looking at Google Maps and the satellite view of the area. I’ll tell you, this navigating on the ground is far more difficult than navigating in the air. There we just have airways and join the dots…. N23 to BREVN then N64 to the airport…. whizz down the ILS and pull off a greaser and taxi to the terminal, fill in the paperwork, stow the Ray Bans in the top pocket and check the time on the big clock hanging off the wrist before heading off to the nearest bar. Sue can get me on to an ILS from 10,000 feet at 500 miles out….. now at zero feet we were doing our best Bonnie Tyler impression, “Lost in France……..”

We eventually arrived at the site at 17:30 around 4 hours 15 minutes after setting off so the “diversion” and the rain had added 1 hour 15 minutes to the trip. The chap in the office was very helpful and offered us any pitch…. we chose pitch 1 as it was an easy reverse on and as we were only stopping one night we would not disturb anyone leaving the following morning.

We pitched in the rain again. No surprises there then.

End of Part 1

Next time….. Camping in a car park, more French coffee and will it stop raining?

S

Click here for:-

The French Connection Pt 2

The French Connection Pt 3

The French Connection Pt 4

The French Connection Pt 5

The French Connection – Finale