One route, 2 maps, this because Google doesn't believe in amphibious cars and caravans.
On Monday the 17th of August 2017, I set off at 9 in the morning to collect 2 kittens from just over the border in Haute-Vienne for delivery to the Ariege departement near the Pyrenees.
On Monday the 17th of August 2017, I set off at 9 in the morning to collect 2 kittens from just over the border in Haute-Vienne for delivery to the Ariege departement near the Pyrenees.
Teddie and Tabatha had spent some time at their foster home and now they were both adopted together. No trouble collecting them and I was soon on my way, with them, as cats are prone to do, talking away to me from the front cage.
As usual, no outside breaks for cats, so the journey was rapid. My light lunch of fruit takes only about 15 minutes, much quicker than dogs who like to come out for a walk round from time to time.
I found the large house set in parkland and rang the bell, soon Americans Steph and her husband and 2 children, were playing with the cats upstairs in the kitchen while I had a welcome cup of coffee and conversation of dogs and cats and things.
My stop for the night was possibly my most favourite of all, Delice d'Annie near to Montauban, only a couple of hours north. The reason for this stop was threefold. It fits perfectly with my timing, it is within half an hour of my collection next morning, and I like it. The meal was excellent as always, stewed beef and mixed vegetables after an unlimited choice of entree and followed by cheese and dessert. A little coffee at the bar completed the evening and I was soon settled to read before bed.
One thing was different though. The previous week I had suffered no less than 3 punctures on the Eriba caravan and after great difficulty in finding inner tubes, now so out of fashion, and fitting them when I could find them in my replacement tubeless tyres I was almost at wits end, and more than reluctant to risk it further without a viable spare. So for the first one and a half days of this 5 day trip, I had decided to play safe and take the Teardrop instead of the Eriba, and try to get yet another tube for the spare, which I had brought with me. I didn't hold out much hope.
However as I was leaving in the morning I noticed a small tyre place on the corner near the routier and thought I might as well call in and ask if he has a tube. He didn't, but insisted I bring the wheel in for him to check. He pulled out the tube found a mendable leak but then said he could put the undamaged tubeless tyre directly onto the non-tubed rim. I was sceptical but he fetched and fitted a tubeless valve, replaced the tyre and pressured it. A short test with water showed no leaks at all at the seal and so I went away amazed at all the trauma of the previous week in the big tyre chains and here was this bloke with the ultimate solution. He advised me to check the pressure before replacing it on the Eriba as I passed through home later in the day, just to make sure. I did, it was ok, and it still is some 3 or 4,000 kms later.
Then, much buoyed up and optimistic I set off for the short run to a refuge which is resplendent in the name Les Oubliers de St. Beart. (The Forgotten of St. Beart). There are many dogs there but what is so interesting (I have been there before) are the large number of stray cats which hang around outside the gates. I can only assume that the staff feed them too.
I found the large house set in parkland and rang the bell, soon Americans Steph and her husband and 2 children, were playing with the cats upstairs in the kitchen while I had a welcome cup of coffee and conversation of dogs and cats and things.
My stop for the night was possibly my most favourite of all, Delice d'Annie near to Montauban, only a couple of hours north. The reason for this stop was threefold. It fits perfectly with my timing, it is within half an hour of my collection next morning, and I like it. The meal was excellent as always, stewed beef and mixed vegetables after an unlimited choice of entree and followed by cheese and dessert. A little coffee at the bar completed the evening and I was soon settled to read before bed.
One thing was different though. The previous week I had suffered no less than 3 punctures on the Eriba caravan and after great difficulty in finding inner tubes, now so out of fashion, and fitting them when I could find them in my replacement tubeless tyres I was almost at wits end, and more than reluctant to risk it further without a viable spare. So for the first one and a half days of this 5 day trip, I had decided to play safe and take the Teardrop instead of the Eriba, and try to get yet another tube for the spare, which I had brought with me. I didn't hold out much hope.
However as I was leaving in the morning I noticed a small tyre place on the corner near the routier and thought I might as well call in and ask if he has a tube. He didn't, but insisted I bring the wheel in for him to check. He pulled out the tube found a mendable leak but then said he could put the undamaged tubeless tyre directly onto the non-tubed rim. I was sceptical but he fetched and fitted a tubeless valve, replaced the tyre and pressured it. A short test with water showed no leaks at all at the seal and so I went away amazed at all the trauma of the previous week in the big tyre chains and here was this bloke with the ultimate solution. He advised me to check the pressure before replacing it on the Eriba as I passed through home later in the day, just to make sure. I did, it was ok, and it still is some 3 or 4,000 kms later.
Then, much buoyed up and optimistic I set off for the short run to a refuge which is resplendent in the name Les Oubliers de St. Beart. (The Forgotten of St. Beart). There are many dogs there but what is so interesting (I have been there before) are the large number of stray cats which hang around outside the gates. I can only assume that the staff feed them too.
Soon I was led past the dogs who though out in the open, nevertheless each have a kennel to retreat to, to a more substantial building at the other side. Lazare, a large marron male Dobie was led out and walked rather fearfully past the barking dogs. He entered the cage willingly and, once the formalities were completed, we were on the first leg of his journey to finding a new loving home.
But first we had to go towards the centre of Bergerac. There, at the home of a Phoenix fosterer, was waiting a small, fluffy white dog called Truffle. He is owned by the daughter of the lady of the house, and she is studying at the University of Bangor, in North Wales. Ryanair, for all its advantages, does not welcome pets on board, so another way had to be found. All carefully timed, she travelled by air and Truffle travelled with me, with all of us to rdv at McDonald's, next to the airport.
At Sharon' s, some 5 hours after leaving the refuge, Lazare was welcomed by Andy and, first walked on the lead, and then freed on a lunge to run around and discover his new surroundings.
Then it was time to return home and swap caravans. During the wheel check and swap I brought Truffle into the house, it being very hot outside and in the stationary car. As usual, no trouble with Tosca even though Truffle followed me everywhere I went inside.
Then we were off again. This time north towards Dieppe but for that day just as far as the routier at Ymonville, between Orleans and Chartres, which we reached in time for dinner at 7pm. This is another favourite of mine, welcoming and clean with good food and very popular as a result. There is always a young man on duty at the entrance who enquires after your leaving time and makes sure that the double ranks of parked lorries will be able to leave on time in the morning. With me it it somewhat different, I don't take up so much room and, it would not be desirable for me to occupy a space big enough for a lorry, so after a friendly handshake, he always directs me to a spot right next to the restaurant. The traditional long dining table for drivers is convivial and encourages conversation, and this night was no different. Before eating however, I walked Truffle for 20 minutes or so out of the dusty lorry park and up the tarmac road towards the quarry which is the only issue and, at this time of night, closed and therefore quiet.
Not a peep from him during the night and, at 7am after the usual for me and a brief walk for him, it was off to Dieppe in plenty of time for the 12.30 ferry. After refuelling at Auchan, I parked aside from the long queues of cars and campers as, once through the gates, there is no longer access to all the facilities in the main building, and there is no rush, one way or the other we will all get on board and, armed with my little pet sticker they make sure we are near the exit for a swift disembarkation. Once refreshed and walked (another reason not to hurry though, sometimes, if the sniffer dogs are deployed beyond the gate, the handlers do not always allow pets out of the car) we faced the most stressful part of the trip, using the ever-changing chip reader to find the ID on the animal. Truffles' was not in the place I was told it was but, not a big dog, it wasn't to hard to wave it about until found. In the past I have been presented with readers whose batteries were too low and, on one occasion, it was no less than 4 failed attempts before the surly official agreed to go and get another one. He apologised profusely, of course, no he didn't, apparently it must have been my fault!!
Eventually we were on board. Windows open for Truffle, barest minimum stuff for me to take up to the cabin. I always have a cabin, although it is only a 4 hour crossing, because that is the only way I can stretch out and relax, and have a shower. Normally I get the big double cabin looking forward, a view not usually seen from the public areas. Just a quick snack before going in to read and rest, one way or the other I will get a meal tonight. A fine crossing, then, suitably refreshed we were driving off the ship in Newhaven. A brief stop in the parking area for time to walk Truffle again and ring ahead to confirm arrival time.
We passed this lorry on the way, I wonder how many people wave to tell the driver his back door's open
Traffic was moving well till we got on the M25. Now, in recent years I have found this road, despite reputation, pretty good going, and most of it was this time, but for one section of about 10kms before the tunnel it slowed to a crawl. It wasn't the tunnel but the entering traffic on the several junctions before it that was the problem, so, once through it was plain sailing to Stansted.
Trouble, of a sort, began the moment I turned into McDonald's car park, our rdv point. Alana was already there waving to me but the carpark was packed and here was me with a 3 metre caravan tagged on behind. Being so used to French custom and practice I didn't think twice and parked on the pavement. First one, then another passerby, left me in no doubt that this was a 'bad thing'. And it was, it forced everyone into the road, well those 2 anyway, the only 2. Nevertheless Alana and I dispensed with the formalities in quick time, hand over including documents, photo, video, goodbye, and gone! As can be seen in the 2nd video, after my U-turn the pavement was unoccupied, but the road had a person walking down it!
Trouble, of a sort, began the moment I turned into McDonald's car park, our rdv point. Alana was already there waving to me but the carpark was packed and here was me with a 3 metre caravan tagged on behind. Being so used to French custom and practice I didn't think twice and parked on the pavement. First one, then another passerby, left me in no doubt that this was a 'bad thing'. And it was, it forced everyone into the road, well those 2 anyway, the only 2. Nevertheless Alana and I dispensed with the formalities in quick time, hand over including documents, photo, video, goodbye, and gone! As can be seen in the 2nd video, after my U-turn the pavement was unoccupied, but the road had a person walking down it!
For Alana and Truffle there was a short taxi drive to the railway station and a train to Chester, where they would spend the night in a dog-friendly hotel. Then on to Bangor in the morning. Poor Truffle's head will be spinning.
I set off thinking that, in the absence of a known transport cafe on my route, I would take to country roads and search for a pub that did meals. I had done that previously when working for Gauthier with the lorry and twice stopped at a nice place in Essex for the night. No room in the car park but a handy lay-by opposite. Trouble was, the first time I was there, noticing that it was also a bus stop, I pulled a bit further on so I was partly overhanging the pavement. Me and pavements in foreign countries again! I did think that in view of the lateness of the hour and the location right at the extreme exit to the village, would make it ok. Not a bit of it, after eating and retiring to the cab I was reading in the passenger seat when there was a very loud banging. Opening the curtain and lowering the window I saw a very angry elderly couple out for an evening stroll, and he was banging furiously with his walking stick on the bodywork. I retreated 2 feet to clear the path, still shocked and surprised by the violent intervention to my peaceful evening.
Not so this time, after consulting the map I decided to continue over the Dartford bridge and follow my route past Tunbridge Wells towards my rdv in the morning near Hailsham. This was for the firm of camping car specialists, AMC, to make some improvements to the lighting equipment of the caravan. The first pub I found with parking was well beyond Tunbridge, but the owner would not allow me to park overnight. The second one had even more parking, not all theirs, so should have been ok but owing to the hour, just gone 9.30, had stopped serving. With growing apprehension I continued and came to a roundabout on the A22 at Halland. The Forge is a large pub/hotel on the roundabout with plenty of parking. I went in to enquire if I could still eat and the reply was a welcoming 'of course'. I decided to make sure I was fed before broaching the subject of parking and, after an excellent meal and friendly chat with the Portuguese waiter, ventured to explain my position. No problem, there was a space in the quiet wooded area behind the pub. I needed no more encouragement.
A quiet night's sleep was only slightly marred by an upset stomach in the morning, no fault of the cuisine, I was sure as, by the time I got to AMC at 8 the next day it was completely cleared. Referring to my troubles with the caravan and its wheels I had ordered on the internet a pair complete with tubeless tyres from a specialist trailer place at Maidstone, and paid for them to be delivered to AMC. They were waiting for me but, the holes were in the wrong place so they had to go back. I wasn't too upset as I felt the original problem had already been solved by the fellow at Montauban, but I still had to do the 170 km round trip to return and get a credit for them while AMC worked on the caravan. Once back I went into the terrific little cafe on the same site where I enjoyed a late breakfast of bacon sandwich on brown bread and a large mug of tea. There were a large number of pensioners in there too (so I was in good company) and I noticed that some were drinking pints of beer. I declined that option.
Work done, it was off for the 22 kms to Newhaven where the first stop, traditionally, was Sainsbury's for a couple of items and then into the port for the 5.30pm sailing. Because both Newhaven and Dieppe are small ports and not dredged regularly, the sailing times vary throughout the year with the tides. On this occasion it meant that I missed my, also traditional, beef curry and baked potatoes in the port cafe and a chat with the friendly threesome who rotate their shifts around the ferries. One in particular, knowing what I do and being a dog lover, always gives me the freight drivers' large discount.
Despite the warnings by the crew announcer of rough weather we barely noticed the increased swell as again, I showered and rested, not in the Commodore, but in a 4 berth. Nevertheless all to myself. This after, due to the hour of departure, a meal in the restaurant. A French ship, the cuisine is not quite up to French standards but satisfying nevertheless and only slightly more than I would pay in a routier. I do not however buy wine, the prices are aimed at the tourists.
Once back in Dieppe, straight through the town to the old docks and to park opposite the one of the 2 routiers that opens early mornings. There, a pleasant chat with la Patronne over coffee, a quick refill of a different kind at the Total Access opposite Auchan, and home by mid-afternoon.
Total Distance 2,558 kms
I set off thinking that, in the absence of a known transport cafe on my route, I would take to country roads and search for a pub that did meals. I had done that previously when working for Gauthier with the lorry and twice stopped at a nice place in Essex for the night. No room in the car park but a handy lay-by opposite. Trouble was, the first time I was there, noticing that it was also a bus stop, I pulled a bit further on so I was partly overhanging the pavement. Me and pavements in foreign countries again! I did think that in view of the lateness of the hour and the location right at the extreme exit to the village, would make it ok. Not a bit of it, after eating and retiring to the cab I was reading in the passenger seat when there was a very loud banging. Opening the curtain and lowering the window I saw a very angry elderly couple out for an evening stroll, and he was banging furiously with his walking stick on the bodywork. I retreated 2 feet to clear the path, still shocked and surprised by the violent intervention to my peaceful evening.
Not so this time, after consulting the map I decided to continue over the Dartford bridge and follow my route past Tunbridge Wells towards my rdv in the morning near Hailsham. This was for the firm of camping car specialists, AMC, to make some improvements to the lighting equipment of the caravan. The first pub I found with parking was well beyond Tunbridge, but the owner would not allow me to park overnight. The second one had even more parking, not all theirs, so should have been ok but owing to the hour, just gone 9.30, had stopped serving. With growing apprehension I continued and came to a roundabout on the A22 at Halland. The Forge is a large pub/hotel on the roundabout with plenty of parking. I went in to enquire if I could still eat and the reply was a welcoming 'of course'. I decided to make sure I was fed before broaching the subject of parking and, after an excellent meal and friendly chat with the Portuguese waiter, ventured to explain my position. No problem, there was a space in the quiet wooded area behind the pub. I needed no more encouragement.
A quiet night's sleep was only slightly marred by an upset stomach in the morning, no fault of the cuisine, I was sure as, by the time I got to AMC at 8 the next day it was completely cleared. Referring to my troubles with the caravan and its wheels I had ordered on the internet a pair complete with tubeless tyres from a specialist trailer place at Maidstone, and paid for them to be delivered to AMC. They were waiting for me but, the holes were in the wrong place so they had to go back. I wasn't too upset as I felt the original problem had already been solved by the fellow at Montauban, but I still had to do the 170 km round trip to return and get a credit for them while AMC worked on the caravan. Once back I went into the terrific little cafe on the same site where I enjoyed a late breakfast of bacon sandwich on brown bread and a large mug of tea. There were a large number of pensioners in there too (so I was in good company) and I noticed that some were drinking pints of beer. I declined that option.
Work done, it was off for the 22 kms to Newhaven where the first stop, traditionally, was Sainsbury's for a couple of items and then into the port for the 5.30pm sailing. Because both Newhaven and Dieppe are small ports and not dredged regularly, the sailing times vary throughout the year with the tides. On this occasion it meant that I missed my, also traditional, beef curry and baked potatoes in the port cafe and a chat with the friendly threesome who rotate their shifts around the ferries. One in particular, knowing what I do and being a dog lover, always gives me the freight drivers' large discount.
Despite the warnings by the crew announcer of rough weather we barely noticed the increased swell as again, I showered and rested, not in the Commodore, but in a 4 berth. Nevertheless all to myself. This after, due to the hour of departure, a meal in the restaurant. A French ship, the cuisine is not quite up to French standards but satisfying nevertheless and only slightly more than I would pay in a routier. I do not however buy wine, the prices are aimed at the tourists.
Once back in Dieppe, straight through the town to the old docks and to park opposite the one of the 2 routiers that opens early mornings. There, a pleasant chat with la Patronne over coffee, a quick refill of a different kind at the Total Access opposite Auchan, and home by mid-afternoon.
Total Distance 2,558 kms