This second day saw us move west through wonderful Honfleur and then up the Cherbourg Peninsula through Carentan and St Mere Eglise to the pretty harbour town of Saint Vaast La Hogue.
Saint Vaast La Hogue is towards the northernmost tip of the Cherbourg Peninsula and in totally the opposite direction to our intended route but, it seems our arrival there was entirely my fault?!? Vanya pointed out to me after our arrival that I had asked her to find us a camp site to the north of Caen and she took that to mean anywhere north of Caen. That we ended up 70 miles further north looking across the Channel to Portsmouth was my bad. I should have been more precise.
I’ve always liked Honfleur
Vanya prefers St Vaast
I’ll check that tower out tomorrow
Still, we have now been to Saint Vaast La Hogue and sat outside a cafe with a beer or two watching the world go by. And most enjoyable it was too.
And so begins a third tour in the Van, which I am advised by Vanya is now renamed the “Boomobile”. Having had enough of our lives being put on hold by the lock- down we decided last week to simply collect the Van Boomobile from storage and head for Europe. Not sure how long we will go for but, it won’t be for more than two months this time as Vanya wants to be back in the UK for her next birthday.
So it was that early on Monday 17 August 2020 we (Vanya, myself and the two dogs) geared up and made our way to Folkestone to take the 35 minute shuttle under The English Channel to Calais. Thereafter, a 172 mile drive from Calais saw us in a small campsite at St Jouin Bruneval, Normandy.
I didn’t realise it until after we had arrived but this is where Operation “Biting” took place during WWII when British Paras under Major John D Frost concluded a successful raid on a German radar station – The Bruneval Raid. At that time, February 1942, there was not much of a village here; it seems to have sprung up since around the small chateau (yes, the chateau is still there) which figures in just about every old photo I have seen of Bruneval in the early 1940’s…
Bruneval 1941/1942Still there 2020
Back to the present. After checking in to the campsite, we decided to take the dogs for a walk along the cliff tops and then; talk about a stroke of luck; in the middle of nowhere overlooking the English Channel we stumbled on a Michelin Listed Restaurant (Le Belvedere) run by Jerome Geulin. We weren’t dressed for the occasion (shorts & t-shirts) and we had the dogs in tow but he very kindly gave us his last table and served us some great mussels and an excellent duck together with a fine Pouilly-Fume.
The journey from Taradeau was fine (mostly motorway) until I reached the walled city of Avignon itself. The campsite I was heading for is just outside the walled city on the Ile de Barthelesse and my (not so) trusty sat-nav insisted on taking me through the walled city with all it’s narrow lanes. It wouldn’t have been so bad and I could perhaps have made it except that it was Wednesday and much of the city is closed to vehicles on a Wednesday (or at least on this particular Wednesday):
After driving around the narrow lanes for a while (using bus lanes when I ran out of road) I gave up on the sat-nav and followed my instinct (and a road sign) to the Ile de Barthelesse. For all it’s smug superiority and foreign languages, the sat-nav cannot recognise the days of the week. Hah! One up to me.
Avignon is lovely. France is lovely.
Avignon on the Rhone. The (part) bridge is the 12th Century Pont St Benezet (sometimes known as the Bridge of Abignon). 18 of it’s 22 spans were washed away in the 17th Century and it has been left that way
Crossing over from the Ile de Barthelesse (using a more complete bridge), the most prominent of all the buildings in the old town are the two standing alongside each other on the Place du Palais; the Cathedral Notre Dame des Doms with it’s guilded Virgin Mary and the 14th Century Palais des Papes (another Unesco World Heritage Site) built to accommodate the pope and his entourage after the newly elected pope Clement V chose to stay in his home country rather than move to the (then) wholly corrupt city of Rome:
… above, the Palais des Papes (plural because a number of subsequent popes, another 6 I think, preferred Avignon to Rome) and, below, it’s immediate neighbour the Cathedral of Notre Dame des Doms with the guilded Virgin Mary watching over Avignon…
Views across the city from the Palais…
There are other impressive churches to see in Avignon; principal among them being the Basilique Saint Pierre d’Avignon, the Eglise St Didier and the Protestant St Martial Temple but I had seen enough churches in Italy to last a lifetime and the rest of my day in Avignon was spent perusing Les Halles (a large covered market with just about every food you could imagine – local chefs attend the market every Saturday morning and give free cookery lessons) and sitting outside a cafe doing what should be done when the sun is shining namely, drinking coffee and watching people go about their daily life. You can’t beat it.
Having said that, I’m going to make an observation (in the form of a question). Has anyone ever had a decent cup of coffee in France?
I left Sestri Levante intending to make one further halt in Italy, 120 miles away in San Remo, either for a late lunch or even to overnight depending on what San Remo has to offer. After a straight forward journey in wonderful sunshine I arrived in San Remo as a thunderstorm started. When moments later it started to hail, I set off towards my fall back destination, Monaco. It was snowing as I drove through Monaco and I didn’t even pause for a coffee – do you blame me?
Into France, past Nice and Cannes where there was heavy rain, westward towards the blue sky. I even passed Antibes without stopping and that place was one to visit for the Absinthe alone. To get to my age and never have tasted Absinthe is not right.
… San Remo and Monaco – I’ll let you know. I remember the days in the Balkans and in Greece when I would simply move the Van to where the sun was expected to be
Anyway, I stopped at Taradeau in Provence, a town of less than 2,000 people, and there’s nothing there to talk about (although the Provence countryside is beautiful and the people very friendly) except; the sun shone and I chilled for the best part of 2 days. I tell a lie – there was a Hyper U Supermarket and lots of other shops; probably the best range of foodstuffs I have seen in months. I grabbed a supermarket trolley and I was like a kid at Christmas.
The food that first night was tremendous. Lots of little hors d’oeuvres, a full plate of fresh prawns the size of small lobsters and then, best of all:
… Toulouse Sausage in a French Stick followed by Pecorino cheese with a fine Chianti Reserve
Nothing else to report because I have done nothing but sit outside in the sun. I head off to Avignon tomorrow.
Today was mostly about getting the winter tyres fitted (would you believe it cost 860 Euros !) and, thereafter, travelling to Zurich for a reunion with a dear friend and her partner for dinner. The journey from Colmar took little more than two or three hours and I was soon parked up by the lake in Zurich and then trekking and using the local tram service across the city for our reunion but, more about that and Zurich later.
Colmar (and Eguisheim) was great and it wouldn’t be right to move on from such a charasmatic town without leaving a couple more photos (and a copy of a striking painting by the Baron Francois Pascal Gerard) that reflect some of the more cultural aspects of the place. As you well know, this trip of mine isn’t just about drink, food and pretty sights and/or sites…
Frederic August Bartholdi, a French sculptor born in Colmar renowned for designing “Liberty Enlightening the World” aka “The Statue of Liberty”.
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Another famous son of Colmar was the Napoleonic General Count Jean Rapp who is shown in a painting by Francois Gerard presenting the captured Prince Repnin-Volkonsky to Napoleon during the Battle of Austerlitz.
Colmar Railway Station – I only show this because I passed it on the way to Eguisheim and it reminded me of the railway station in Gdansk, Poland.
More about Eguisheim in a moment (and the town is well worth a visit) but first some advice on getting there. Don’t cycle it or, if you must cycle it, do not rely on the sat-nav in your vehicle for directions. Before setting off I committed the route on my “top of the range Pioneer system” in the Van to memory and left feeling quite confident that I knew where I was heading. All went well to start with (the cycle paths in this part of France track most major roads and are fantastic) but then, after a really nice fast bit coasting downhill round a bend and bombing along a wholly empty right hand lane I realised I was travelling along the hard shoulder of the motorway to Strasbourg. It was a very sheepish me that dismounted and walked back along the motorway to find an alternative route. I’ll probably figure prominently in the French equivalent of one of those “Cops” TV programmes where they show video from motorway camera. Oh well…
Eguisheim is a lovely place, renowned (at least locally) for it’s fine wines and flowers. Flowers were not much in evidence (it is winter) but I tried a couple of “verre(s) vin blanc de la maison” and they were most enjoyable. It’s not a big town but it is crammed with character as I think the photos will show:-
Needless to say, it is pretty much all pedestrianised.
I won’t talk about the cycle journey back. There was a railway line and lots of ploughed fields and, honestly, it’s just a bad memory but, it doesn’t detract from the fact that the town of Eguisheim is magical (and it is so close to Colmar).
Staying in Colmar for a couple more days. I need some decent winter tyres for the Van and they cannot be delivered until Wednesday morning. There are worse places to be while waiting for winter tyres but I should have had this done while back in the UK waiting for the house to be sold. My schoolboy French really doesn’t lend itself to a protracted conversation as to the merits of different winter tyres. At least the people at Best Drive Tyres didn’t laugh but I’ll not rest easy until I have seen exactly what it is I have ordered.
Tomorrow I am thinking of cycling (yes, cycling – they say you never forget how) to a place called Eguisheim, a few clicks from here. Eguisheim was recommended to me by a local guy I met today in the Irish Pub (of course there’s an Irish pub here!) as being every bit as nice a place to visit as Colmar. Well, I think that is what he said – He couldn’t speak English (and he was French, not Irish. Lol). Time will tell. I have to get to Eguisheim first without my sat-nav.
Meantime, a few more photos of Colmar:-
Inside the Irish Bar. That’s my Murphy’sIt was dark when I left the pub
Rain woke me at 05.00 and prompted an early departure to Colmar (rain sounds much louder in the Van and will take getting used to). It ceased raining as I arrived at Colmar and found Camping de L’Ill (just a mile from the town centre).
Camping de L’Ill has all mod cons (although the swimming pool has been emptied for winter); is situated in very pleasant surroundings (close to a bar/restaurant) and; best of all, at least for the moment, I have it pretty much to myself.
Parked up at Colmar…… and my view from the VanA local, fly fishing on L’Ill
From what I could research and have been told about Colmar I expected something special and I wasn’t disappointed. I’m just back from a 6 hour walk around the town (except for a couple of hours in a very good bar/restaurant that will receive a mention in my trip advisor review when or if Will tells me how trip advisor works) and it is one of the most charming towns I have ever visited.
It was surprisingly quiet even though there was a 10 km fun run taking place which finished in the town centre. This is the advantage of arriving out of season.
No more words; just a handful of the 50 or 60 photos I took although they don’t do the place justice…
I think that is the River Lauch which is a tributary to the L’Ill
Needed to cover some ground today and made seriously good time down the motorway from Lille to the little village of Dieue-sur-Meuse, stopping at Epernay on the way for a glass of Champagne. I was in Epernay just last year and it is well worth repeat visits especially when the weather is as nice as today – warm and sunny.
The French motorways are impressive and well worth the toll price.
The stop in Dieue-sur-Meuse was what might be termed a wild camp inasmuch as the village didn’t have a pub. Well, it did but it never opened. Went for a short evening stroll and had a quiet night in with a bottle of the local wine – a Pinot Noir that set me back 3 Euros (I went for the mid price range).
There are worse places to park up for the night… and, yes, it was a fine evening
None of my sources could identify a suitable campsite within Lille city limits and I therefore elected to stay a few kilometres outside of Lille at a place called Peronne-en-Melantois. Peronne-e-M is a little more than a hamlet and the campsite I found is not much more than a field in a farm on the edge of the hamlet. The proof follows:-
My immediate neighbours on the campsite
Oh…and this one knocked about with a cockerel that sounded off non stop for a good hour from about 5.15am. Perhaps not surprisingly, the cockerel didn’t hang around to get his picture taken!
The only real positive about Peronne-e-M is that it is just a couple of kilometres walk to another hamlet (Fretin) which at least has a station (well, a sort of station because trains do stop there) and it is on the Gare de Lille Flandres line. I had to wait a while for a train but in less than a quarter of an hour of the train arriving at Fretin, I was at the Gare de Lille Flandres and right in the centre of the city.
You would be hard pushed to know you had arrived at the village without this sign
Fretin (simply identified as Gare)Gare de Lille Flandres
Lille is France’s tenth largest city and it has some striking buildings, many of which are on or near the Grand Place just a couple of hundred yards from the station. Grand Place is also known as the Place General de Gaulle (after the visionary French Brexit campaigner General Charles de Gaulle) who was born in Lille.
I took a few photos but they were all rather rushed. After my last few days in Belgium, Lille was simply too busy for me. I had dinner there (it was nothing to write home about) but otherwise didn’t stay long because I wasn’t sure when the last train left the City for Fretin. It was dark by the time I got back to Peronne-e-M.
Grande Place, Lille
One of the more attractive buildings, especially inside, is the Catholic Church which is en route to the Grand Place.
The Catholic Church…… and one of it’s many stained glass windows
I’ve covered little more than 45 miles in the Van over the last few days. At this rate I’ll not get across the Alps before winter. The Grossglockner is already shut. I’m going to have to find another route through Austria. Time to check out the French Auto-routes…
