A Brief Tour of the Italian Alps

We loved the Italian Alps.

We started this part of our trip by overnighting at the Great St. Bernard Pass, where someone turns up every day to walk a couple of St. Bernard dogs for photo opportunities. We arrived in mist, but the next day turned out beautiful and spent some time clambering around the Roman ruins behind the hotel.

Great St. Bernard Pass

From the Great St. Bernard Pass we wound our way down into the Valle d'Aosta, stopping half way at Etroubles for lunch at one of the many restaurants there.

Aosta looked like an interesting city, though we did the quickest whistle stop tour of the Roman gates, theatre and forum. We managed to park in the very centre, behind the town hall, but we're a panel van, so I'm not sure some of the big beasts out there in motorhome land would find the narrow streets much fun. We've always worked on the basis that if an Italian delivery van can get there, so can we. The aire, or area di sosta, at Aosta didn't look inviting to us. A large screened off parking lot on the side of a main road wasn't our thing, but if all you want to do is sleep and see the sites then it'd be fine, and close enough for walking into town.

Aosta Roman gate

We decided to push on a bit and headed up one of the nearby Alpine valleys, the Valle de Cogne. After not a long drive we reached the town of Cogne, which has a huge area di attrezzata (like a sosta but with water, dumping & electrics) nestled below the town (€10.50 without electric). Very damned convenient of the local council, they had put in a lift up to the town, which was gearing up to the start of an Alpine endurance running race which was to go over the next six days, so the place was full of fit looking maniacs! We had a great night in Cogne - a very pretty place with an interesting lace making exhibition, lovely easy walking in the surrounding meadows and some nice bars/restaurants. There are some good local shops and we bought some very purple softish salami style sausage - budin di berbataiola - which has beetroot in it and was delicious.

Cogne meadows

Cogne area attrezzata

Our next stop was 3km up the same Alpine valley to the village of Lillaz and another area attrezzata (€10.50 + €2.50 for electrics), in a lovely position overlooking the river. There's a large picnic park at Lillaz, directly across the river, and there are both easy and tougher hikes all around the village, which has bars, restaurants, a little shop and very nice gelato (ice-cream). There were several cats out and about in the village, which didn't make for easy walking with two hounds, Pommie being particularly obsessed with the chase concept (Betty's a bit dimmer about most things). Unfortunately, the new tap which we'd had fitted at home to our waste pipe, and felt was a bit of a shoddy repair, has come off, as our Italian neighbours pointed out when our "stinky" water fouled their pitch - guess we take a bowl from here on.

Lillaz area attrezzata

Lillaz

Lillaz

Our final bit of this area was to continue to drive along the Aosta valley on the Turin road, but heading all the time out of the Alps. We passed places not in our guide book, but which looked interesting, such as the fortress at Bard, which was massive, built up a craggy hillside and served by a triple staged funicular. They have lots of different exhibitions there, such as a Chagall one, so if you are in need of some culture it might be a place to go. 

After Bard we left the Turin road and headed into the smaller hills above and between Ivrea and Biella, and ended up at Graglia, because our camper book said there was an area di sosta there. I made it more difficult to find because I'd somehow looked up the address for a different one, but in the end we found it right up the hill at the Sanctuary of Graglia. There are quite a few of these sanctuaries on hilltops, and many have campervanable parking. This one had good roads up to it suitable for large trucks, as the local water has, in the last 20 years, begun to be bottled and sold in a hugely profitable business - fill up your tank for free at the sosta! It was a beautiful little area di sosta (free, water & dumping), overlooking wooded hills and long, sloping meadows, and the sanctuary is worth taking a little peak at.

Graglia sosta

That was our mini-Alpine tour. We have now come down, trundled through the very flat valleys and are camped beside Lake Orta for the next stage, a brief tour of the Italian Lakes!

There’s New Life in the Old Blog Yet

So, we no longer have Charlie dog, and we haven’t done as much travelling in the van in the last few years as we’d have liked, mainly due to Rob working away from home on a series of contracts. The van, however, has been in constant use as he has lived in it during weekdays. Meanwhile, life goes on and small changes occur, which, for us, includes the addition of two dogs as our travelling companions - both lurchers, but quite different from each other.

Pommie is a greyhound crossed with something else, possibly a ridgeback. We have had her for 5 years now, having fostered her and then adopted her at 5 months old. She did travel with us to Germany in the van two years ago, but I didn’t blog that trip as I found the amount of rain we had so depressing!

Betty is a whippet cross, who looks like she has a bit of saluki in her which would explain why she is so skinny. Both dogs are great sofa surfers, so we hope they’ll do well in the van. Our only worry will be where to let them off lead along the way for the mad zoomies they enjoy.

Anyway, we are on the road again for a five week trip to Italy. We’re probably under-researched for this trip and we never over-plan, so we’ll see how we get on.

A new use for the van

The van has proved its worth this autumn, even though we haven’t been travelling at all. In a case of atrocious timing, I (Rob) got an offer of some work with my old company in Coventry at just about the time we moved down to Cambridgeshire, and for the last four months of the year the van was my little mobile bedsit from Monday to Friday, when I would shuttle up and down the A14 between Coventry and Cambridge for a weekend at our new home.

I had a choice of Camping and Caravanning club small sites (CS’s) by various farms and stables near Coventry, in attractive countryside that is surprisingly rural given its proximity to the West Midlands metropolis. I was just a few cycle miles from work, and settled down happily to the lifestyle. After spending a year in it, the van was a familiar home from home, and I loved stepping straight out onto a grassy field and seeing the autumn sun rise through the trees, as well as the bike rides down country lanes to my office in the suburbs. I kept myself busy with an evening class in Greek, carrying on from where I left off when we caught the ferry from Igoumenitsa last February. Gradually however, as the nights lengthened and the temperatures dropped, the dark winter evenings began to feel a little too long, and I was glad when the Christmas break came.

Home from home in a Midlands field

R.I.P. Charlie Dog

Today is Hallowe’en, 'All Hallows' Eve' or the ‘Day of the Dead’. This time last year we were in Slovakia, walking round a cemetery at dusk, discussing how the hundreds of lit candles made such an evocative sight and how the atmosphere was peaceful and contemplative rather than sad. It seems a fitting day to post about our travelling companion, Charlie, the ‘dog who came too’.

Charlie at Happisburgh - one of our favourite camping places

Just one week after moving into our new home in Cambridgeshire, we had to say goodbye to our lovely old chap. He had accompanied us on our travels around Europe, viewing the journey from his very own seat, on one occasion causing much annoyance to a Romanian peasant woman who couldn’t understand why our mini-bus wouldn’t stop for her, but had a dog as a passenger.


Before the ‘big trip’ we knew Charlie had a lump growing on his leg. We discussed it with the vet, and although we didn’t know for sure what it was, we came to the conclusion that an operation would be invasive and risky for an elderly dog and that quality of life was far better than quantity. Over the year away it grew larger, so that by the time we reached Greece and Italy it was quite a talking point and Rob had to learn the vocabulary to debate it with interested passers-by.


The lump didn’t bother Charlie at all. He was lively, loved his food and his walks, was the most loving of dogs towards us and his usual cantankerous old self to the occasional dog who didn’t take his fancy. However, it continued to grow, and a couple of days before we moved he somehow grazed it, and the graze soon turned into a nasty wound.


We dressed it, but dogs just won’t leave bandages alone. We put a large conical collar on him, and took him to the emergency vet as soon as we moved into our new house. This led then to a specialist clinic near Newmarket, where the worst was diagnosed. Poor old Charlie dog did indeed have cancer and although we looked at all the choices, there was little prospect of a happy outcome.


We could not put our old chum through that, and with the wound clearly not going to heal we took the hard choice of euthanasia for our beloved pet. We hugged him to the end and though making the decision was truly awful we know we did what was best for our lovely dog.

Charlie at the Cregennan Lakes, North Wales, another of our favourite places.

On the move….to a new house

We’re on the move again, but it’s not a trip in the van this time. On Friday 26^th August we moved house from Narborough near Leicester, to a small village south of Cambridge.

Narborough views

We moved to Leicester in 1986, and soon after to Narborough. I remember us saying at the time that we’d probably stay for a ‘couple of years’, which eventually turned into 25. Narborough was a nice place to live, and Leicester has many good things and places that I grew quite fond of over the years, but we had a strong feeling that now, after our big trip last year and all the breaks with routine that that represented, was the right time to move on.

Leicester - clock tower

 Leicester - Turkey Cafe

As the house went on the market I (Rob) got myself out and about in Leicester through the summer, taking photos - a mix of common and less-common views of the city. We also began our search for a house further south. Something which could take our furniture and which we could afford.

Leicester – riverside walk, Victoria Park and the market

We chose south Cambridgeshire as it was closer, just 20 miles away, from family (better than the 90 miles from Leicester), and Cambridge sounded like as interesting a place as any to base a new life around. The move went through quicker and more smoothly than we could have imagined at the start, and despite major attacks of last-minute doubts, the 26^th saw us looking out of our window at the crack of dawn for a large S.J.Sharpe removals van.

The move begins

I have to say our hearts sank when we saw a small Luton bearing their logo drive past, but thankfully it just contained the extra guys they brought along for an hour and a half of intensive loading, and soon the massive truck was parked outside our house and the floors were being covered with protective matting. The removal chaps knew their stuff and it seemed like the house was cleared in no time. If you are looking for a good removal firm we’d recommend them (http://www.sjsharp.co.uk/).

Leicester up close – but do you know where?

Unpacking at the other end went smoothly too, though took a bit longer with a team of three guys. We had no breakages, but were at a loss where to put it all. We were meant to be downsizing and as the boxes began to stack against walls we knew we hadn’t made a good job of that aspect of the move.

Unpacking

Living in Cambridgeshire is going to be different. Houses cost more here than in Leicestershire, so what we have got for our money is smaller than what we had. You would think that after 11½ months living in what is basically a delivery van with windows, any house would feel spacious to us, but as the boxes continued to pile up – and up – and up – it felt like we were cramming a quart into a pint pot. Now, a couple of months in, it all feels more homely, but unpacked boxes still fill the peripheral rooms and taunt us to find a proper place for their contents. One good thing about this house is that the drive is big enough for the van and our cars, so when Rob returns from working in Coventry during the week, he can bring his current living accommodation with him. Ah, but that's another van tale!

Down to Dordogneshire

In August 2010, while we were in Norway, my (Lesley’s) family had their annual holiday in Eymet in the Dordogne. They had a great time and decided to book the same gite for 2011 and, with the kind permission of the gîte owners, we arranged to park up the van there and spend two weeks enjoying the sunshine, the pool, the food and the wine.

Not being ones to move anywhere very quickly, we decided to take a few days travelling down to the area, rather than do the whole journey in one go like the rest of the family. Besides, with the house packed ready for our imminent move, there seemed little point in just hanging around Leicester, twiddling our thumbs and nervously awaiting exchange of contracts.

Marine Parade, Dover

So on Wednesday 3^rd August 2011 we left Narborough at 7 p.m. and headed south down the M1, sharing the driving for a change and reaching Marine Parade, Dover, by 11:30 p.m., where we joined the line of about a dozen motorhomes parked up for the night. We had a very comfortable sleep and woke all too soon to the sound of Rob’s alarm. By 6:45 a.m. we were away and just a few minutes later were being waved onto the next ferry at 7:20 a.m., having produced no tickets or even reference numbers, and with no checking of passports.

Leaving Dover

In the early morning light we could clearly see the French coast. The short journey passed quickly and with no checks on the French side, we were soon driving towards Boulogne.

We were not the only motorhomers on the pretty coastal road, and we saw many Germans, Dutch, Belgians, French and Brits. We passed Cap Blanc Nez, but did not stop as the car park had height restrictions. Cap Gris Nez, luckily, had a section for motorhomes, so we got out and had a short walk along the headland to the viewing platforms.

We continued along the coast road, through Boulogne and down the route national to Abbeville. Here we picked up the non-toll motorway to Rouen, and also picked up heavy rain, which stayed with us for the rest of the day.

Once out of Rouen we decided to head south on lesser roads, with the help of Garmintrude the sat nav. These turned out to be considerably smaller than we had imagined, and took us on a picturesque winding drive through a landscape of rolling wheat fields and woodlands.

Wheat fields in Southern Normandy

At about 5 o’clock we stopped for shopping and a coffee at Le Neubourg, and half an hour later we were back on our way heading south to check out the aire at Rugles. It was set in a very pretty location beside a large park in the centre of the town, but we were put off by several vanloads of gypsies parked on the grass, and decided to drive on. I don’t know if they are always there, and maybe we shouldn’t have been so wimpy, but you know how it is! After another 20 km we arrived at the small village of Chandai, where we finally stopped for the night on a simple, but fine, free aire, parking up in the emerging sunshine to cook our merguez, tripes and cassoulet. By the time we sat to eat, however, the heavens had opened once again, causing us to close the windows and endure the stifling heat until the worst of the storm passed.

On Friday 5^th We set off about 10 a.m. and headed south on more small roads, passing by fields of cereal crops. At about the time we realised we had taken no photos of the attractive narrow timber framing on the farmhouses and barns, the architecture quickly changed to stone buildings in soft creamy colours. The landscape gradually became more contoured, with the wheat giving way to maize, sunflowers and then tobacco. As we neared the Loire valley we began to see our first vineyards, and by the time we reached Saumur the roads were lined with wine merchants, though 9 euros for a bottle of cremant was a bit outside what we wished to pay. (In case you’re reading this in future years, the euro stood at this time at around €1.10 to the pound).

We found a great little aire right by the Loire between Gennes and Saumur, though there was little water in sight from our riverbank spot, as the Loire itself was a bit of a trot away across the sandy flood plain.

Chênethuttes aire by the Loire

The aire was another free one, though with a charge for water this time (3 euros), and gradually began to fill up with French vans, some arriving as late as 1 a.m. The evening was lovely and sunny, so I sat out on a chair while Rob cycled off in search of cheaper cremant. We had a nice barbeque and another comfortable sleep.

Pont de Gennes near Saumur

On Saturday we set off in sunshine for our big push to the Dordogne, again heading south on smallish roads, stopping at a massive Super-U at Thouars to shop for our first weekend with the family. A trolley full of wine and beer later, and lighter in the wallet by some 170 euros, we decided to pick up the speed a bit and drove on the N10 from Poitiers to somewhere past Angoulême. I (Lesley) drove for this section, and the heavens opened up so much that I could barely see for the spray.

We somehow missed the turning off the N10 and ended up on tiny roads again. I happily left to Rob to drive the rest of the way to Eymet and we arrived at La Moutique shortly after the rest of the family at about 8:40 p.m. and were soon settled down with glasses of wine and another barbeque.

We both began Sunday with that feeling of having drunk just a bit more than was good for us, but a relaxing morning by the pool, followed by a chilled-out lunch sorted us out.

Eymet town square

In the evening we went into Eymet for their medieval festival, where we had booked tickets for the evening meal and entertainment in the town square. There were lots of stalls on a vaguely medieval theme, as well as displays of birds of prey, sword fighting and wandering troubadours. Many of the visitors were in medieval garb, as well as the stallholders, cooks and entertainers. The meal wasn’t too bad, as these large scale feasts go. Everything was tasty enough, if not particularly hot, and we were kept entertained by more little medieval acts. Audience participation was part of the deal, though the re-enactors failed to get Rob up and took my brother-in-law,Terry, instead, who had to ‘battle’ against a French member of the audience, by holding a great sword straight up in the air. British honour was upheld by Terry, but then my sister, Frances, was hauled up for the women’s version of the event and her performance wasn’t quite as good.

Medieval knights at Eymet’s medieval night

Unfortunately the end of the evening was spoiled slightly by a row over a stupid couple who stood right in front of everyone’s tables blocking the view of the fire dancing finale. Despite being asked to move by a steward, the pair just stood there and when we said ‘excusez-moi’ they just had a go. It’s the first time we’ve been insulted by being called ‘les rosbif’!

Family at medieval night

Eymet is an attractive bastide town, about 25 km south of Bergerac, with an impressive central square surrounded by timber framed houses, and a medieval castle. It caters very well to tourists, probably a bit too well for our liking, if the truth be told, with two weekly markets – a Tuesday evening one and a Thursday day one. Evening markets in France tend to be tourist events, with jewellery, china and clothes, but the Thursday market has produce, although with a definite tourist bent. The medieval evening is a summer one off, but worth going to if it’s on while you’re there. Even better was the oyster and wine day, which is another summer event. Lots to drink and eat, and if you stay to the evening it actually gets quite French with a good old disco on the town square.

Eymet night market – come for the good food on offer

I have to say though, that we have never been to another area outside Britain where  we’ve found quite so many Brits, and we’ve been to southern France many, many times over the last 30 years. We hadn’t bothered to research the area as we were tagging on to the family holiday, but we knew it was likely to be full of ex-pats. Even so, it was a shock to see just how Anglicised the place was, right down to having an interiors shop selling Farrow & Ball paint.

The crêpe stall and the evening disco at the oyster and wine fair in Eymet

We really didn’t do much over the two weeks other than relax by the pool, sample too much good wine and food, and potter about a few nearby villages. We had a good time, but it was a bit too hot for us, and sapped us of the will to get out and about in the van.

A pool is an absolute must in the summer heat

One of the pretty Dordogne villages - Beaumont du Périgord

We began our trip home on Thursday18th August. First stop was a visit to a vet in Périgueux, where we had Charlie dog checked over, Frontlined and wormed with medication we provided, for 35 euros, a much cheaper option than using the vet in Eymet for 65 euros (tip – always ring a few vets). Our appointment was late afternoon, and we only drove some 100 km after that. We spent that night on a delightful aire at the village of Pageas, just before Limoges. It was situated on the edge of the village, and had lovely views over a park and pond. We pondered on how and why such small villages maintain these smashing aires. There were hardly any shops, bars or restaurants for visitors to spend money in, so we couldn’t really see what was in it for the local area.

By Friday I had gone down with a horrible ear infection, which left Rob doing a full day of driving to get us to Calais by late evening. At 450 miles this was by far the longest all-in-one drive we’d made in the van and neither of us can say it’s a way we like to travel. The aire in Calais was full, and we contemplated just parking on the road in front of the main carpark, but it was a bit noisy. Instead, we drove a few minutes west to neighbouring Blériot Plage, and spent a very peaceful night on a carpark by the cemetery there – maybe not everyone’s taste, but at least we woke refreshed for our early morning ferry back to Britain.

After a brief stop to visit family in Surrey, we headed back to Leicester – for our last week of living in the Midlands.

A Short Trip Around East Anglia.

Rob had been champing at the bit, pacing the floor and generally being rather annoying in the way only a bored man can be. Me? I don’t get bored. Rarely have. Besides, I have the novel still ongoing, so there is always something I should be doing. I even did a day’s paid work, so no room for boredom in my world.

Arty Happisburgh snap number 1

We should have headed off in the gloriously sunny days just after Easter, but we didn’t, and the weather during May was decidedly dull in the Midlands, with reports of gales in Scotland and rain in Wales – the two destinations we were hoping to visit. Pictures posted on the Motorhome Facts website, of vans trashed to matchsticks by 100mph winds in the Highlands, made us rethink a trip north and so we turned about to look to the gentler climate of Suffolk and Norfolk for a few days away.

Arty Happisburgh snap number 2

We packed up the van, having made a list of everything we’d had in it for the big trip by visualising the contents of the cupboards. Some list. We might as well have been utter novices – completely forgetting the camping chairs and table, which never fitted in a cupboard, so never got visualised! We hadn’t even managed to find the binoculars, so missed for a year away, but still lying in one of our packed boxes somewhere in the shed.

On Wednesday June 1^st, 2011, we left family in Bishop’s Stortford and headed east. We stopped for shopping in Woodbridge, where we found possibly the best bakers we’ve come across in the UK – The Cake Shop – which had a fantastic selection of breads, including Adnams sourdough. Having stocked up with tasty goodies, we continued on to Rendlesham Forest, where we rejected the idea of stopping at the crowded campsite (close to the site of what was apparently the UK’s most famous UFO incident in 1980). Instead, we phoned one of the Camping and Caravanning Club’s small certified sites, Bailiff Cottage, at Hollesley. It turned out to be a little gem of a site, and we spent two nights on the pleasant smallholding, while we sampled the various delights on offer in this chocolate box picturesque part of Suffolk.

Bawdsey Quay, where the foot passenger ferry shuttles across the mouth of the River Deben to Old Felixstowe, was a great place to stop and picnic. There’s even a little beach and tearoom there, and the place where ground breaking radar technology was developed and first tested in Suffolk between the wars - if you’re that way inclined (http://www.bawdseyradar.org.uk/).

Bawdsey Quay and Bawdsey, East Lane

At Bawdsey, East Lane, we explored the old gun battery, from where we could see the earlier defences of the Martello tower. The only battles seen there now are the ones to prevent the land being swallowed up as it takes its ongoing battering from the sea. This is an ever changing landscape, with some parts seeming more shifting than others. Shingle Street is one such place, although it has been there for a couple of centuries. It’s little more than a stretch of pebbles with a few nesting terns, and does give an impression of impermanence. Strangely, it has been the centre of conspiracy theories since it was evacuated in the 1940s. The speculation centres on whether it was the site of a foiled invasion attempt by German forces, but includes rumours of a shoreline littered with burning bodies, schemes to protect the coastline with an impenetrable barrage of flames and the testing of experimental chemical bombs – exciting stuff for a tiny coastal hamlet.

Shingle Street

We moved on round the Suffolk coast on Friday, via Orford, another pretty coastal village with its quay bustling with children dangling crabbing lines into the water as fishermen and pleasure sailors come and go. Orford is also a bit of a must for any foodies, with its fresh and smoked fish, a couple of very decent restaurants and an award winning butcher. It also has a massive car park which can take quite a few motorhomes. It would have made a great overnight spot, just opposite a pub and restaurant, if it were not for the signs banning you from sleeping in your motorhome there – sigh!

Orford

Instead, we drove to one of our all-time favourite places in East Anglia – Happisburgh in North Norfolk. The cliff-top campsite there has grown progressively smaller over the 28 years we’ve been going there, with considerable parts of the village now toppled into the sea, but what’s left remains charming. 

 

Happisburgh's cliffs continue to be eroded

It can be glorious at Happisburgh, but is often windy – and so it was over our weekend – with battering gusts preventing us from sitting out in the sunshine. Most people set up wind breaks, not us of course, but the chap in the caravan next door made up for it by erecting what can only be described as a stockade.

Happisburgh sea defences

On Sunday we drove back to the Midlands, fortified to search for jobs and houses – or houses and jobs – we’re not sure of the order of importance there, and with a list of things to add to our list of things not to forget when we pack up the van. 

Mundesley