Tilly will never be known for her speed. All too often I catch a glimpse in my mirrors of a growing tail of cars chancing a moment to overtake. For fear of witnessing an accident from some misplaced judgement I have grown to celebrate the arrival of roundabouts! A few circuits do wonders to reduce the heat from frustrated drivers and an opportunity for Tilly to shed her tail and for me usually a much needed pause to clarify my direction!
Talking of 'tales' my slow pace gives me plenty of time to reflect on the travelling 'experience' and comparison with Leigh Fermor's 1930's journey on his epic journey to Constantinople. He sets out alone with next to nothing but seems consistently 'rescued' by the generosity of all - from fellow travellers, Counts and Barons to charitable Consuls, Burgermeisters and even the local constables! How things have changed! The lone traveller I guess is hardly an unusual sight these days to lavish hospitality on however it does seem that a bright green camper van still is. I have lost track of the number of times people have waved, hooted, stopped and chatted, keen to share fond memories of their own. Tilly is no doubt a bit of a celebrity!
Sunday, 12 August 2007
Saturday, 11 August 2007
And then there was one (and Tilly!)
After numerous recommendations I have finally got round to picking up Patrick Leigh Fermor's book 'A Time of Gifts' - recollections of his epic journey to Constantinople in the years before the 2nd WW. It has been one of those books that has left me marvelling at the power of the descriptive word to paint such vivid pictures when in the hands of a master. Whilst his experiences in so many ways couldn't be more different from mine 70 plus years on he does capture elements of the 'travellers' experience that still hold true. One of his opening lines "..... I knew that the enterprise had to be solitary and the break complete" is about to be put to the test!
Crispin left yesterday for home. We had spent the last few days based on a campsite just cross the river from the 'city of the popes', Avignon. I had driven past but never explored this historic centre before (another world heritage site!) so was delighted for the time we had to check out its treasures. And many it has, dominated by the immense Palais des Popes, the Cathédrale and of course the Pont d'Avignon. However most memorable for us was the extensive network of narrow streets that enchanted us both.
We utilised Crisp's penultimate day to head eastwards from Avignon towards the Luberon in search of the 'real' Provence. The precarious hill top town of Gordes was as beautiful as we had hoped. With a brief onwards journey with stunning views we 'found' the Abbaye de Sénanque nestled in a the folds of the hills and set amongst those fields of lavender I had been led to believe was so central a part of this area! Sadly the lavender harvest had finished before we arrived so no flowers or scent but a very beautiful setting.
Having said our farewells Tilly and I headed towards the Cevennes, a place I had heard so much about that it was a destination I did not wish to miss. Its delights have not disappointed - the drive westwards from Nimes towards Milleau along the D999 (will I ever master the French road numbering?!) was wonderful - quiet winding roads with wonderful views across wide wooded valley's punctuated with rocky outcrops and river gorges. I will be happy to make this my base for the next few days before I begin my journey back to the UK.
Crispin left yesterday for home. We had spent the last few days based on a campsite just cross the river from the 'city of the popes', Avignon. I had driven past but never explored this historic centre before (another world heritage site!) so was delighted for the time we had to check out its treasures. And many it has, dominated by the immense Palais des Popes, the Cathédrale and of course the Pont d'Avignon. However most memorable for us was the extensive network of narrow streets that enchanted us both.
We utilised Crisp's penultimate day to head eastwards from Avignon towards the Luberon in search of the 'real' Provence. The precarious hill top town of Gordes was as beautiful as we had hoped. With a brief onwards journey with stunning views we 'found' the Abbaye de Sénanque nestled in a the folds of the hills and set amongst those fields of lavender I had been led to believe was so central a part of this area! Sadly the lavender harvest had finished before we arrived so no flowers or scent but a very beautiful setting.
Having said our farewells Tilly and I headed towards the Cevennes, a place I had heard so much about that it was a destination I did not wish to miss. Its delights have not disappointed - the drive westwards from Nimes towards Milleau along the D999 (will I ever master the French road numbering?!) was wonderful - quiet winding roads with wonderful views across wide wooded valley's punctuated with rocky outcrops and river gorges. I will be happy to make this my base for the next few days before I begin my journey back to the UK.
Monday, 6 August 2007
Cheers all round
We have been re-united! After some major wobbles in my 'relationship' with Tilly, and some impressive assistance from the RAC and a hotel over night stay - we are back together - an event not missed on our friendly camp site hosts who cheered on our return! Apparently the cause of Tilly's unhappiness was an over heated ignition coil - well that's the conclusion we came to after much gesturing between a mechanic who spoke no English and a sibling group who spoke no Italian. Whilst I do regret my poor language abilities I have been pleasantly cheered as to just how far you can get relying on non verbals - the hint of uncertainty that all has been understood as intended adds that further spice to the travelling experience.
After a day spent in Vincenza, a must see for any student of architecture - apparently the neo classical work of Palladio, much in evidence in the city has been hugely influential on European planning - we left our settled base on the shores of Lake Garda and headed south - the Italian Riviera our destination. What a difference a flat road makes to our travels! What we lost in scenic mountain vistas we gained in anxiety free travelling and perhaps the first glimpse of my original 'camper vision'! We had to savour the moment - as the Apennines headed into view the Tilly formula (hills = stress) all too soon kicked back in - all eyes on the oil temperature, judging anxiously the length and gradients of tunnels and frequent road side stops. Fortunately no 'Gottard Tunnel' moments this time and eventually our road headed down hill with a brief stop in La Spezia (v missable we all concluded) and eventual arrival at Levanto on the coast, within walking distance of the Cinque Terre, a national herritage site centred around a group of ancient fishing villages clinging to impossibly steep cliffs. A wonderful days walking between the villages yesterday was a wonderful tonic for an onwards journey to San Remo today, an over night stop before heading onto Provence.
We are now without Jo (great company and a talented mechanic) who left us yesterday for onwards travels. Just hoping Tilly will not protest too much without his careful nurturing!
After a day spent in Vincenza, a must see for any student of architecture - apparently the neo classical work of Palladio, much in evidence in the city has been hugely influential on European planning - we left our settled base on the shores of Lake Garda and headed south - the Italian Riviera our destination. What a difference a flat road makes to our travels! What we lost in scenic mountain vistas we gained in anxiety free travelling and perhaps the first glimpse of my original 'camper vision'! We had to savour the moment - as the Apennines headed into view the Tilly formula (hills = stress) all too soon kicked back in - all eyes on the oil temperature, judging anxiously the length and gradients of tunnels and frequent road side stops. Fortunately no 'Gottard Tunnel' moments this time and eventually our road headed down hill with a brief stop in La Spezia (v missable we all concluded) and eventual arrival at Levanto on the coast, within walking distance of the Cinque Terre, a national herritage site centred around a group of ancient fishing villages clinging to impossibly steep cliffs. A wonderful days walking between the villages yesterday was a wonderful tonic for an onwards journey to San Remo today, an over night stop before heading onto Provence.
We are now without Jo (great company and a talented mechanic) who left us yesterday for onwards travels. Just hoping Tilly will not protest too much without his careful nurturing!
Thursday, 2 August 2007
Tilly time
Our travels and destinations are becoming increasingly governed by Tilly's frailties! It has become all too painfully evident (some would so 'no surprise there then'!) that she really doesn't like hills or hot climates. She has been running a very high temperature for much of the time since the last entry and as I write is languishing in some unknown garage awaiting a diagnosis and, I hope successful treatment. It's never going to be a positive sight when one has to witness ones trusted steed loaded unceremoniously on to the back of a lorry - even if one is sitting watching from the shores of Lake Garda!
Yes we've made it to northern Italy but are resigned to the fact that our initial destination of Dubrovnik was, with hindsight a little unrealistic in a work horse as old as Tilly. On reflection the Netherlands wold have provided the ideal pottering land for a Camper - but that's going to have to be another trip as there is no way on earth that we are going to be able to coax her over those Alps!
We did some how manage to make it to Interlarken and onto a wonderful campsite overlooking the small village of Lauterbrunnen settled comfortably in a bucolic valley framed by soaring cliffs that climb upwards to vertiginous snow capped peaks with names that must be familiar to the world over. Not only a wonderful spot for us to forget about over heating engines but a perfect base to take the impressive network of cable cars and trains to the summit of the Schilthorn, immortalised for so many by the revolving mountain retreat in the James Bond film 'On Her Majesties Secret Service'. Not sure why I had been so reluctant to make the trip after the initial suggestion by Crispin as it really was a magical trip.
From the lofty heights of Switzerland we gingerly wove our way to Lake Como after a rather nerve racking trip through the Gotthard Tunnel with memories of that awful fire some years back all too fresh in our memories. With climbing temperatures (for once not Tilly's or ours) we made a brief over night stop near Lecco and then onwards to the southern shores of Lagio di Garda via a delightful lunchtime stop at the hill top town of Bergamo (well recommended!).
Whilst we wait for news of Tilly we have escaped to Verona for the day - no doubt the city's sights will be a welcome distraction from negotiations with the RAC!
Yes we've made it to northern Italy but are resigned to the fact that our initial destination of Dubrovnik was, with hindsight a little unrealistic in a work horse as old as Tilly. On reflection the Netherlands wold have provided the ideal pottering land for a Camper - but that's going to have to be another trip as there is no way on earth that we are going to be able to coax her over those Alps!
We did some how manage to make it to Interlarken and onto a wonderful campsite overlooking the small village of Lauterbrunnen settled comfortably in a bucolic valley framed by soaring cliffs that climb upwards to vertiginous snow capped peaks with names that must be familiar to the world over. Not only a wonderful spot for us to forget about over heating engines but a perfect base to take the impressive network of cable cars and trains to the summit of the Schilthorn, immortalised for so many by the revolving mountain retreat in the James Bond film 'On Her Majesties Secret Service'. Not sure why I had been so reluctant to make the trip after the initial suggestion by Crispin as it really was a magical trip.
From the lofty heights of Switzerland we gingerly wove our way to Lake Como after a rather nerve racking trip through the Gotthard Tunnel with memories of that awful fire some years back all too fresh in our memories. With climbing temperatures (for once not Tilly's or ours) we made a brief over night stop near Lecco and then onwards to the southern shores of Lagio di Garda via a delightful lunchtime stop at the hill top town of Bergamo (well recommended!).
Whilst we wait for news of Tilly we have escaped to Verona for the day - no doubt the city's sights will be a welcome distraction from negotiations with the RAC!
Friday, 27 July 2007
Holding one's nerve
The invitation was just too hard to resist. Winding passes, soaring mountains, remote alpine villages - the time had come - we were going to head for the hills!
Montreux, at the far eastern end of Lake Geneva was our last stop before the climbing began. Perhaps more time would have allowed the town a chance to offer up the delights that had so attracted its illustrious list of past visitors (Bryon, Shelley, Hemmingway). For us, however the stunning Castle Chillon was well worth the stop - with a setting as close to perfection as one could imagine and complemented by regular visits from the beautiful paddle boats that steam up and down the lake - all a memorable sight.
Our next destination was Interlarken via the 'high road'. A dramatically rising engine oil gauge, a protesting engine and smoke pouring out of Tilly's air ducts didn't need any reference to the Haynes manual to tell us we had the beginnings of a long, slow and anxious journey ahead. A tense conversation, perhaps not helped by my insistence that we plan an evacuation drill just in case (fire extinguisher at the ready, doors unlocked, bags packed - I had heard too many traumatic stories of campers going up in flames to take any chances!) and agreement reached that we would proceed with caution. And so we did and many stops later (and wonderful pauses to soak up the stunning beauty, breath in the freshness of the air and capture those evocative cow bells) we arrived at Saanen - and not before we jumped fleering from the van as cars flashed and burning smells intruded - only to realise, with relief that it wasn't us! Although well short of our hoped for night stop Saanen was a serene place to spend the night. We were later to hear that Gstaad, its next door neighbour has been the chosen retreat for many a celebrity and this week was holding the Beach Volley Ball World Champions. It does seem incongruous that a land locked country should hold such an event and clearly be so enthusiastic about the sport - stranger things have happened.
Montreux, at the far eastern end of Lake Geneva was our last stop before the climbing began. Perhaps more time would have allowed the town a chance to offer up the delights that had so attracted its illustrious list of past visitors (Bryon, Shelley, Hemmingway). For us, however the stunning Castle Chillon was well worth the stop - with a setting as close to perfection as one could imagine and complemented by regular visits from the beautiful paddle boats that steam up and down the lake - all a memorable sight.
Our next destination was Interlarken via the 'high road'. A dramatically rising engine oil gauge, a protesting engine and smoke pouring out of Tilly's air ducts didn't need any reference to the Haynes manual to tell us we had the beginnings of a long, slow and anxious journey ahead. A tense conversation, perhaps not helped by my insistence that we plan an evacuation drill just in case (fire extinguisher at the ready, doors unlocked, bags packed - I had heard too many traumatic stories of campers going up in flames to take any chances!) and agreement reached that we would proceed with caution. And so we did and many stops later (and wonderful pauses to soak up the stunning beauty, breath in the freshness of the air and capture those evocative cow bells) we arrived at Saanen - and not before we jumped fleering from the van as cars flashed and burning smells intruded - only to realise, with relief that it wasn't us! Although well short of our hoped for night stop Saanen was a serene place to spend the night. We were later to hear that Gstaad, its next door neighbour has been the chosen retreat for many a celebrity and this week was holding the Beach Volley Ball World Champions. It does seem incongruous that a land locked country should hold such an event and clearly be so enthusiastic about the sport - stranger things have happened.
Wednesday, 25 July 2007
Internet Cafés
This entry is going to be without the usual liberal sprinkling of exclamation marks - I continue to do battle with foreign keyboards so for what follows * equates to exclamation where one is required.
Internet Cafés have become another 'life experience' that I think I can now tick of my list (and not the '1000 experiences you must have sampled before you die' list). They invariably seem located in the back room of some slightly dodgy looking shop and are invariably in semi darkness with shaddowy figures hunched over keyboards with fingers flying over keyboards at a speed I could only dream of. As I write there is a war going on to my left - the sound of bombs, gunfire and death is leaving me quite traumatized. I guess it is a blessing that my very poor French gives me no chance of understanding the last dying works of the 1000th poor soul to meet a sticky end*.
Lausanne, on the north shore of Lake Geneva has been our home for the last few days. We have broken one of our golden rules (steer clear of any campsite highlighted as something special in the guide book) and found ourselves squeezed like sardines between static caravans that clearally haven't travelled for many a long while. To be fair things could have been far worse - the first pitch we were offered nearly created a diplomatic crisis - and all over a matter of a 2 inch encrochment of territory* I fear wars have been started for no less in the past - phew*
Another 'golden rule' should probably be 'read with a high degree of skepticism any guide book description that waxes too lyrical about a place'. Lausanne seems to be one of those places - yes pleasant enough (well it hardly could not with such a beautiful Alpine backdrop*) but describing it as 'an enchanting beauty' for us has rather over egged things. Any way its hardly the worst place to spend a few days and I did get to see the most wonderful gallery, the 'Collection de l'Art Brut' - an extraordinary grouping of works by unknown people many of whom had been imprisoned or admitted to psychiatric hospitals for much of their lives often with terribly traumatic pasts. Whilst many works were disturbing much credit must be given to its originator (Jean Dubuffet) for treasuring and bringing to a wider public the lost stories of people who would otherwise have been forgotten.
Internet Cafés have become another 'life experience' that I think I can now tick of my list (and not the '1000 experiences you must have sampled before you die' list). They invariably seem located in the back room of some slightly dodgy looking shop and are invariably in semi darkness with shaddowy figures hunched over keyboards with fingers flying over keyboards at a speed I could only dream of. As I write there is a war going on to my left - the sound of bombs, gunfire and death is leaving me quite traumatized. I guess it is a blessing that my very poor French gives me no chance of understanding the last dying works of the 1000th poor soul to meet a sticky end*.
Lausanne, on the north shore of Lake Geneva has been our home for the last few days. We have broken one of our golden rules (steer clear of any campsite highlighted as something special in the guide book) and found ourselves squeezed like sardines between static caravans that clearally haven't travelled for many a long while. To be fair things could have been far worse - the first pitch we were offered nearly created a diplomatic crisis - and all over a matter of a 2 inch encrochment of territory* I fear wars have been started for no less in the past - phew*
Another 'golden rule' should probably be 'read with a high degree of skepticism any guide book description that waxes too lyrical about a place'. Lausanne seems to be one of those places - yes pleasant enough (well it hardly could not with such a beautiful Alpine backdrop*) but describing it as 'an enchanting beauty' for us has rather over egged things. Any way its hardly the worst place to spend a few days and I did get to see the most wonderful gallery, the 'Collection de l'Art Brut' - an extraordinary grouping of works by unknown people many of whom had been imprisoned or admitted to psychiatric hospitals for much of their lives often with terribly traumatic pasts. Whilst many works were disturbing much credit must be given to its originator (Jean Dubuffet) for treasuring and bringing to a wider public the lost stories of people who would otherwise have been forgotten.
Sunday, 22 July 2007
Unexpected places
We've been sticking to our plan - 1 day travel/1 day rest - or there abouts. Yesterday was the former, and with cries of 'why didn't we try this sooner?' we headed for the auto route and a surprisingly uneventful journey southwards. Our destination was Annecy, just south of Geneva with a tantalizing description from the The Rough Guide as 'one of the most beautiful and popular resort towns of the French Alps ....... surrounded by picturesque mountains Annecy resembles a fairy-tale city ....' Somehow we were blind to the added comment 'though the tourist traffic can get a bit wearing in the high season'!! And so it is and far from our misplaced images of quite, restful seclusion! It's perhaps no surprise that people head here in droves - sitting on the tranquil shores of Lac D'Annecy. We will just have to share! Not really very difficult when in minutes one can escape from the crowds to a quiet lake side with stunning views across to the soaring montains beyond.
Learning a little late in the day that the busiest, and usually biggest campsites are in the Guides we now have a policy to find our own - and it seems to be paying off. Heading down the east side of the lake as the heavens opened again we came across a gem of a site - small, quirky, tucked away, well run with a friendly welcome (and a small library!) Not far from the lake we feel we have found our home for a few nights at least.
Learning a little late in the day that the busiest, and usually biggest campsites are in the Guides we now have a policy to find our own - and it seems to be paying off. Heading down the east side of the lake as the heavens opened again we came across a gem of a site - small, quirky, tucked away, well run with a friendly welcome (and a small library!) Not far from the lake we feel we have found our home for a few nights at least.
Friday, 20 July 2007
Well placed shoes
We've sprung a leak! By chance Crispin left a well placed shoe directly under the torrent and floods were averted - he managed the full shoe in the morning v well and has squelched round today without a murmur - what sacrifice for the cause! Thunderstorms are becoming a regular feature for us it seems - their visitations at night very convenient for us - listening to the rain hurtling against Tilly's flimsy tin skin is not quite as wonderful as canvas but not far off!
I must be careful to ration my reflections on 'Tilly - the experience' but did want to share a few further reflections as she is rather significant to us! For me Camper's have always conjured up words such as 'chilled, laid back ......' - the reality seems a long way removed. 'Don't take one's I off the ball' would seem more appropriate - if one does than the early stages of disaster feel all too close. Constant attention is needed for correcting the steering, warning lights, petrol consumption, oil usage and the ever present fear of overheating and associated fire risk - I've been fed too many doom stories I fear. It certainly pays to be well in tune - a lesson for life no doubt!
Back to the sights - much of the day spent at the Abbaye de Fontenay, Nr Montbard - a remarkably complete Cistercian monastery - a magical place and no need to conjure up evocative scenes of what might have been from the ruins of similar settings in the UK. No Henry Vlll here! Now off for a meal in the charming Semur-en-Auxais with plans to head further south tomorrow and then in to Switzerland over the weekend.
I must be careful to ration my reflections on 'Tilly - the experience' but did want to share a few further reflections as she is rather significant to us! For me Camper's have always conjured up words such as 'chilled, laid back ......' - the reality seems a long way removed. 'Don't take one's I off the ball' would seem more appropriate - if one does than the early stages of disaster feel all too close. Constant attention is needed for correcting the steering, warning lights, petrol consumption, oil usage and the ever present fear of overheating and associated fire risk - I've been fed too many doom stories I fear. It certainly pays to be well in tune - a lesson for life no doubt!
Back to the sights - much of the day spent at the Abbaye de Fontenay, Nr Montbard - a remarkably complete Cistercian monastery - a magical place and no need to conjure up evocative scenes of what might have been from the ruins of similar settings in the UK. No Henry Vlll here! Now off for a meal in the charming Semur-en-Auxais with plans to head further south tomorrow and then in to Switzerland over the weekend.
Wednesday, 18 July 2007
A lack of Fizz
18th July 2007
Mastering a French keyboard has been proving surprisingly challenging - letters and symbols in different places and that comes after logging on - bitterly regretting my 'lack of effort' for GCE O-level!
Long day in the bus journeying south to a stop over north of Dijon. Tilly did us proud this time! Hopes for regular stops for Champagne tastings were quickly dashed (no doubt very fortunate) - no Cavés in sight and surprisingly dull scenery for such a eminent region.
Mastering a French keyboard has been proving surprisingly challenging - letters and symbols in different places and that comes after logging on - bitterly regretting my 'lack of effort' for GCE O-level!
Long day in the bus journeying south to a stop over north of Dijon. Tilly did us proud this time! Hopes for regular stops for Champagne tastings were quickly dashed (no doubt very fortunate) - no Cavés in sight and surprisingly dull scenery for such a eminent region.
Tuesday, 17 July 2007
Calais and beyond
15th July 2007
Who said we couldn't make it past Calais?! For the record we had over an hour to spare for the ferry (Tilly was much admired as we waited in regimented lines!) No problems with re-starting the engine as feared and an uneventful short hop to our first campsite destination 'La Bien Assise', Guines, Picardy. Crisp's worries about the onset of middle age, broken fan belts and a lack of food were all dissipated with a cycle ride and chance discovery of a friendly restaurant tucked away amongst idyllic crumbling farm buildings. Then back 'home' and the first of no doubt many debates as to how best to organise the innards of the camper to guarantee a degree of comfort.
Who said we couldn't make it past Calais?! For the record we had over an hour to spare for the ferry (Tilly was much admired as we waited in regimented lines!) No problems with re-starting the engine as feared and an uneventful short hop to our first campsite destination 'La Bien Assise', Guines, Picardy. Crisp's worries about the onset of middle age, broken fan belts and a lack of food were all dissipated with a cycle ride and chance discovery of a friendly restaurant tucked away amongst idyllic crumbling farm buildings. Then back 'home' and the first of no doubt many debates as to how best to organise the innards of the camper to guarantee a degree of comfort.
Are you still here?
'Rupe, a red light's just come on. Should we stop?' announces Crisp with his usual calm delivery. Could this really be happening again? Perhaps this is going to be the brutal reality of life on the road with Tilly - warning lights, oil leaks, odd ways ...... and so far from the fantasy I've held in my head for so long - the dream is crumbling - it's back to the reality of a 31 + year old VW camper I guess. At least this time its only one red light - last time it was the works - every warning light flashing all at once in (not so) glorious technicolour - and a whisker short of half an hour of taking ownership of a v quirky Californian import (via the Netherlands!) 'rust free/good runner' VW Camper. That time it was heading from a port, this time its heading for one - Dover and a ferry deadline - more importantly a gnawing fear that those all too often despairing family asides 'you'll never make it/you're bound to break down before Calais/what possessed you to purchase that? .............' may just hold more truth than I would like to admit. This time the pressures, really on. A tentative look reveals a broken fan belt - that's the easy part. Fixing it is going to be the challenge! Of course we've no spare - yes I know Jonathan advised so strongly we should take one - but younger brothers can't always be right - can they?! Well I at least do now possess a library of manuals, kind gifts and now worth there weight in gold. Reassuring tones from one give me the confidence to suggest we just drive on with fingers crossed and hopes that Tilly might just get us there in time to begin our much talked about adventures at last!
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