Splash!

Finally made it to the Med where the sun is hot – well quite warm anyway – and the sea is very cold. Not that I’ve been brave enough to test its temperature but it looks icy blue and our new travelling companion, water babe that she is, risked only about 10 seconds ankle deep then came out shivering …….sorry, just in case there’s anyone left in the UK (or the wider world come to that) who hasn’t yet been informed, Peggy (all black 8 month old cocker spaniel) is now the proud owner and manager of Jane and I. 

After eleven days on the road we’ve finally made it into Spain, but not without a problem or two along the way. We’ve had snow, strong winds, rain and shine. We’ve had days of monotonous driving along boring featureless motorways and a whole day looking for a very illusive fuse box. But let’s get back to the beginning…..

Our drive down to the south coast was uneventful except for a most welcome and extremely comfortable B&B half way thanks to ‘Cousin’ Ken and his lovely wife, Lesley. Fellow motorhomers please note – good level parking right outside their front door in Redditch and free to boot? Ken & Lesley do a quite reasonably priced B&B for 10 euros and an extra 5 euros a head will get you a slap up dinner, a glass or three of wine plus sarnies for the next day.  Cheers K&L and please book us in for the return journey in March – maybe a nice joint of lamb with mint sauce next time.

Taking the tunnel to France may be more expensive than the ferry but it’s such a doddle and you’re there in less than 40 minutes. Didn’t want to risk leaving our owner alone for 2 hours on what may have been a rocky crossing by sea. We took the motorway pretty much right out of the tunnel terminus and made it to St Valery sur Somme in the early evening. Heavy rain playing drums on the roof overnight gave us little sleep although a certain young lady snored through it all without a care in the world while her can opener and chief walker tossed and turned the night away. Despite all attempts to make her stay in her own basket she’s twisted us, as usual, around her little paws and has now found a warm, comfortable birth nestled up to Jane at night. A drive through the town in the morning showed what a pretty little place it is with yachts moored in the estuary and a tidy shopping street that is, no doubt, chocker block in the summer.

In our efforts to get as far south as possible and as quickly as possible we’ve ditched our usual ‘no motorway, no tolls’ rules and, as a one off, the extra cost isn’t too bad. But it is tiresome. Yes, the motorways in France, except close to major cities, are almost empty but certainly in the north and central regions the landscape is boring and it takes an effort to stay awake and concentrating. This motorhome is really good and has most mod cons but still can’t steer itself if (when) I doze off.

Such a huge difference to summer time when everything is lush and green but now it’s all so dull, grey and lifeless. Mile after kilometre through countryside that has been flooded every bit as much as in the UK with ploughed land looking like rows of small canals. Fields of damp and dreary stalks are now all that’s left after the crops have been harvested – reminds me of summertime in Wales. The leafless trees, skeletons of their former glory, are festooned with balls of mistletoe looking like cheap, last year’s Christmas decorations that no one could be bothered to take down. And when we reach the wine growing regions all that can be seen in the vineyards are the stumps of the vines, devoid of any foliage or fruit. Solitary men and women move slowly and carefully along the lines pruning and weeding so patiently……..I say a quiet ‘merci’ to them all in anticipation of sampling the fruits of their labour in years to come.

By Wednesday night we’d got as far as the Loire and stayed at Selles sur Cher then had an early start the next morning for more rain sodden miles down to Grammat which is close to Rocamador. At both places the water supply on the Aires had been turned off and even the taps had been removed for fear of them freezing up – daytime temperatures were mild enough but it got parky at night and we had a frost or two by morning. Wet wipes and a few drops of the remaining water sufficed for the day’s ablutions – good job there’s no one around to smell us! There was free electricity at Grammat, though I suspect it had reverse polarity resulting in some electrical faults – the toilet wouldn’t flush, the heater fan wasn’t working and the electric step wouldn’t retract when the engine was turned on as it should do.

No problem I hear you say, simply change the fuse and off you go………well, let me tell you that it took three days, five different garages and probably 30 man hours just trying to locate where the fuse box was. We all knew there must be a fuse box somewhere for the habitation part of the motorhome and each mechanic and electrician said it should be in a very obvious position, but could we find it, could we heck!!! In the end and completely by accident I spotted it tucked away in a corner above the cab and replaced the fuse myself. What was nice though was that, despite the hours these garages spent trying to identify the problem, none of them charged me and they all dropped what they were doing at the time to try and help this Brit in distress, so thank you to them all, that’s what I call customer service. And relaying the problem to non-English speaking auto engineers has certainly improved my lingo and a truer appreciation of the word ‘merde’!

All this running around the various garages took place near Perpignan where we had a couple of nights on a great Aires at Latour Bas Elne – recommended. Ten euros with good water facilities, exceptionally well maintained and 10 amps hook-up. Perpignan itself is a bustling, busy place backed by snow-capped mountains which looked quite picturesque.

Before getting to Perpignan we’d spent three nights on one of the few campsites actually open at this time of year in the village of Alet les Bains close to the city of Carcassonne. The campsite backed onto l’Aude river and was right behind a 12^th century abbey, now in ruins and an ancient church whose bells, I can assure you, were not in ruins and were in perfect and very loud working order – every hour and half hour, day and all night! Despite this it was a neat little site with good hot showers – essential in the morning when overnight temperatures dropped below zero I can tell you.

Although we didn’t actually go into the old city of Carcassonne we did see it from afar and very impressive it looks. Our purpose for staying in the area was to check out a few potential places to rent long term later this year and we saw four, one of which, in the village of Bize was really good. A very ‘French’ feel to the property with steps down to a beach on the river below, but there’s more to check out on line and maybe pay another visit to the region in May for a more detailed search.

We took a detour into the Montagne Noir to visit the ancient town of Minerve, which gives its name to the local region of Minervoir and its famous wine. Tiny villages are dotted amongst the hills surrounded by hard, flinty soil from which grows the precious nectar bearing grapes. It’s a tough looking landscape and even the stubbly, gnarled and twisted vines look like they would bit you if you got too close. Minerve itself nestles along the edge and down into a deep ravine with the river Brian at the bottom. Crawling with tourists in the holiday season it was all but deserted on our visit except for one other couple and their pooch. There were one or two touristy shops open but no cafés or bars, an interesting little place all the same. 

From Perpignan we took the trucker’s road heading west into Spain and immediately you cross the border you’re greeted by a town full of supermarkets selling booze, cigarettes and perfumes at a fraction of the prices in France. The car parks are full of French reg cars all stocking up to take the cheaper goodies back home. It’s a major transport hub with literally thousands of HGVs parked up or on the road. There’s also a fair number of young ladies, scantily clad even in close to zero temperatures, sat on plastic chairs by the side of the road, waiting to greet the lorry drivers with a friendly wave (and maybe more) how kind they are remarked Jane. Such an innocent girl! Will you explain to her or shall I?

Our planned campsite for that night had decided that it wasn’t going to bother opening which meant an extra 60 miles or so, in the growing dark, up and over a mountain range with snow starting to fall and us both wondering if we should have fitted snow chains. We ended up at a Spanish Aires in a small village called Navarcles and there’s a prize for anyone else who can find this place in the dark and with a mist falling. It was a decent stop over all the same with friendly natives in the village bar who welcomed us with looks that said “Brits are lost again I see”.

In the morning the sun was shining…. Hurray! We headed back towards Barcelona and the coast in bright, warm sunshine for the first time on this trip and we both felt a lot more cheerful. Skirting Barcelona and after a few arguments with the satnav our journey eventually continued with us making our way  through a few down trodden looking coastal towns, to Ametlla de Mar, the other side of Tarragona.

Really nice site this and within a few hundred yards of the beach. This is where Peggy had her first dip in the Mediterranean and a mad half hour dashing about on the pebbles. We’ll have at least a couple of days here to wash off the dust of our journey and give Jane chance to wash my smalls ready for our onward travels.

Peggy’s Progress – well of course, much of the focus and organisation of this trip revolves around us now having a dog on board. Yes, she’s had three trips away in the motorhome in the UK prior to us coming over here and had appeared happy enough with the life but this is a new adventure for us as well as her. It is fascination though to see her learn and develop each day, not least as she becomes more confident and inquisitive. Today for instance, she learnt how to dismantle the wine box – only after I’d emptied it of anything drinkable you understand – so I guess it’s my duty as a caring dog owner to supply her with many more empty wine boxes. Oh yes, I take Peggy’s interests very seriously.

Adios for now mi amigos and there’ll be more of Peggy Does Portugal as and when I can get internet access.

Cheers from Paul & Jane.

PS I promise there will be some, not many, but some photos that don’t feature Peggy…….maybe.