The worst thing about caravanning is driving in Britain. Living near Chester the journey to Dover can take anything from five hours to, our most horrendous, twelve hours. So we usually have to stay overnight near the ferry terminal. When we drive off the ferry at Calais it's heaven to cruise along at 60 miles per hour on, by our standards, almost empty roads. So this year not wanting to face the marathon drive to Dover we sat down and did our sums and worked out the cost of an alternative way of crossing the water dividing our country with Europe. The price difference wasn't so bad when we worked out the price of fuel, and the cost of camping overnight, not to mention the frayed nerves.
So on 1st September 2007 we drove for a leisurely two and a half hours to Hull, boarded the 'Pride of Zebrugge', sat down to a wonderful dinner, watched a movie, and lingered over cocktails while listening to gentle music provided by a debonair piano player. Then slightly tipsy, we sauntered along to our cabin where we slept as we cruised swiftly to the Belgium coast.
The following moring, showered and breakfasted and refreshed ready for our journey we drove off the ferry and headed towards Paris. That is when things went a little bit awry with our idyllic picture.
As we drove effortlessly towing our new TEC caravan along the Paris ring road, suddenly all the cars around us started honking and pointing. My husband glanced in the wing mirror to see the caravan tyre flapping wildly and shredding itself all over the tarmac. We pulled over to the hard shoulder were we inspected an almost non existent tyre. It had all but disintergrated, yet we hadn't felt a thing, our outfit was so stable the suspension on the car had kept the caravan upright. Unfortunately the new motor mover which cost us £800 and had only been used once to get us off our drive had disintergrated too, and bits of it littered the motorway.
A motorway patrol man helped us immediately, picked up our debris, and had us on our way again in under an hour. Our next problem was we now needed a new tyre, so headed for the nearest town with a camp site. Chartres, a place always pass by. We quickly found the town's municipal camp site, which was surprisingly good. It had a cafe, a supermarket, and free use of the internet. From here we ordered a new tyre and stayed for two days until delivery.
We found Chartres a really charming place with little stone bridges spanning the canal, a maze of narrow cobbled streets, and an array of pretty shops selling soaps, fabrics, books and souvenirs and street cafes bustling with people drinking coffee, reading papers and chatting to friends. There were two magnificent churches with the most amazing stained glass windows.
In the evening the town had a light festival, this was spectacular: Images of church windows, patterns, and colours were projected onto many of the buildings. The church actually looked like it was inside out. The bridges over the canal had glowing cobwebs projecting on them making wonderful reflections in the dark water. We were almost glad we had a puncture, because we would have wanted to miss Chartres.
We picked up our spare tyre and moved on to Montsoreau, a gorgeous village on the Loire. We stayed at Camping I'Isle Vert which hugs the banks of the Loire river with views of the imposing Montsoreau chateau. Troglodytes still dwell nearby in caves with double glazed doors and windows. From here we rode our bikes through the village and up onto a plateau where grapes grew in neat rows as far as the eye could see. The air was heavy with their sweet aroma. Walnut trees were laden with the apple shaped husks and almonds and hazel nuts littered the ground.
From here we discovered the Abbey near Louden called Frontevraud where Henry II King of England and his wife Eleanor of Aquitane and Richard the Lionheart and his wife are buried. Where ever we go in France the churches and Abbeys are always unlocked and I love to take photos of their stained glass windows. In Fontevraud I read a quote by a French Abbot who was rebuked for keeping churches open so thieves could plunder their treasures. His reply was
"If by that you save a chandelier, you also extinguish a lilght forever."
Visiting churches in England I am always disappointed to find them padlocked, and most of the time I never get the chance to visit them when they are open. Like many places we stop there was so much to do, but we had to continue our journey so on 12th September we struck camp and moved on to our next stop.
'LA PARADIS'
La Paradis camp site lives up to its name. It is set in tropical gardens with palm trees, fig trees and flowers everywhere. All around birds sing and delicious scents fill the air. We only planned to stay for one wee, but it was so wonderful we stayed for two. It is situated just a little way south of Montignac on the Vezere river, a tributary of the Dordorgne. There were all kinds of activities on the site such as guided walks, horse riding, fishing and canoeing. We became hooked on canoeing.
A typical day for us was: Stroll down to the river Vezere at 11 am. chose a canoe, float down the river drifting on a gentle current, there was no need to paddle. Stop on an island in the middle of the river for lunch. Watch dragon flies and damsel flies flitting from side to side. Catch a glimpse of startlingly blue kingfishers as they dart across the river, and stare amazed at swans struggling and flapping their wings trying to fly. We saw herons fishing in the reeds at the water's edge. After lunch back in the canoe again to drift effortlessly along past chateaux, castles, vineyards and gently rolling hills to our final destination, where at 4 o'clock a mini bus is waiting to take us back to our camp site.
From Le Paradis there is so much to see. Nearby is the medieval town of Beynac with its castle perched high above the steep cobbled streets. We climbed to the top (I had to stop and catch my breath while my husband marched on like a twelve year old) it was well worth the effort. The views from the fortress were amazing; Down below traffic on the road looked like toy cars on a play mat; The houses like a model village. Looking down the river you could see the next town with another castle on an escarpment like Beynac.
Horse drawn carriages trotted leisurely over a little stone bridge spanning the Dordorgne, while bright coloured canoes drifted through the arches beneath. It all felt like Gulliver's Travels and we were the giants looking down on the tiny Lilliputians.
We were really sorry when it was time to leave Le Paradis, but we still had a long way to go to our final destination. Our next stop was the Lot Valley, but as we took the D46 to Vittrae and Donne I made a note in our diary to return to Paradis very, very soon.
