A Holiday Part two, Into France

Part two of our adventure started on Saturday morning, we empty our stuff out of the caravan and into the car again "fit and ready" for the journey.

We head east, away from the Atlantic coast and across Northern France towards the Joinville in the Haut Marne following the E14 and E17. Four and a half hours the sat. nav. said. No chance.

So driving on the wrong side of the road is a little more interesting than at home. The sat nav tells you what to do and 9 times out of 10 I do it. I always have this vague sense of unease, because the traffic is in the “wrong place” the anticipation of what is going to happen next is just slightly out. The shape or angle of a car as it approaches a junction is different, its like learning to drive all over again and I don’t like it.

This leg of our journey introduced us to one of the key things about France and may be even he French. Nothing is done by halves, if you are going to do it, just do it. The roads we travelled are long and on the whole straight slicing through the landscape I suppose a very Roman approach. At various points the TGV line passed by, no local nimby raising objections at the public enquiry here. The weather reflected this, when it rained, well we understood the monsoon and then the sun came out and the temperature rocketed and the windows that had barely kept out the rain opened to let in the draft.

The UK has one to be honest fairly irrelevant toll motorway, I have been on it once and that was by mistake. France has a whole network of Peage and at they are seemingly well maintained with regular services, but also places to stop with benches and a toilet block and no one trying to sell me things all the time . Have you been to the new services on the M40 at junction 10? Just to get to the toilet is like walking through the Bullring.

We made our way across northern France and I would like to describe excitement and spectacular views but I cannot. It is on the whole flat and boring. It was the number of windmills on the landscape that struck both of us especially compared to England where they are few and on whole far between.

Driving that day was monotonous, keeping at about 70 mph the children sat in the back reading, playing on the DS’s, and watching Scooby Doo DVDs. We stopped a couple of time for petrol and toilet and coffee breaks, I read my book while Joy drove .

After what seemed like forever, the land began to rise and different crops appeared, fields of sunflowers, their heads heavy with seed began to appear. We left the Peage and headed onto smaller single carriage way roads, though still our sat nav seemed to take us away from major towns or built up areas, once we even saw deer by the side of the road.

Finally we made it to Joinville, and then on to our campsite just a few miles up the road, 8 hours including stops was not bad. We checked in to the site and were led up to our tent by a great couple who gave us both the sense that everything would be fine.

Our tent, was well a tent , bigger that the ones we had played in as children, but not vast. There was a room with single beds for the girls and a space with a double bed for us parents. Beyond that there was a space for generally sitting and cooking and eating inside. It was a tent. This was to be our base for the next 5 days.

I began to unload the car, and the rain returned, within seconds I was wet, very wet. It was one of those, oh why have we done this moments. This was the lowest point, the rose tinted memories of childhood shattered to reveal cold, and wet, adult reality. 2 weeks close up, in the rain with no escape. At this point I knew I could sulk or this could be an adventure, my / our adventure and I should just get on with it. There was no blinding flash or other sigh of approval, the rain kept falling, but gently eased off stopping as I closed the now empty top box.

So having unloaded the car I gallantly volunteered to go and find the shop to get some bread and well anything really, I just needed a chance to walk around and explore. As a penance I did have to take both daughters with me. We quickly found the toilet block, what is it about girls and toilets?., Further down the hill there was a lake and a what looked like an old Mill Race. Where the mill had been was now an indoor swimming pool and above it play centre for children . The lake and the stream that drained it were close to overflowing reflecting the rain that had fallen that day. In addition to finding the Shop we also found a restaurant and a take away Pizza place.

So we got some bread and ordered some for the morning also Ham and cheese, milk and wine and beer. We had brought coco pops with us. That night we had take away pizza in a tent as them monsoon returned and hammer down.. The girls had got the best deal on bed space and I eventually crawled in to bed next to my wife and listened to the rain fall.

Next day

So I managed to come back to this and write something, I am still playing with my notes and musing from the holiday, some are typed up a lot need to be typed up but I felt I should through some more into the mix and keep up the typing. It is probably good for me. I have though about a picture that was representative and came up with this one.

I took it in Calais, this is the way out, on into Europe and potentially beyond. One day ?

A holiday part one

So I came back this writing stuff down lark. It has been a while and I have been withdrawn, from most things really just getting by, not moving out of the comfort zone. So I did need to stop and think, five possibly six months further on and the world is to all intents and purposes the same as it was before only different.

A holiday is a good place to begin, camping abroad, seemed like a good idea at the time

I have not been camping properly since my childhood, apart from one night under canvas in a field in Scotland, but that is another adventure.

Our children, both pre-teen in age and high in attitude and chutzpah, are doing languages at school, the youngest French, the other German. It could have been worse, Japanese was a possibility. They could both practice on some other than us, their dutiful parents.

So onward, we left Birmingham at the ungodly hour of 5:00am taking breakfast with us and following the motorway, south, and increasingly east as we headed past London and towards Dover. We had aimed to be in Dover by 11:00am aiming for a 12:30 ferry factoring in delays, toilet breaks and traffic. Much to my surprise we arrived at the P and O check in at 10:05. Ok so we would have to wait, walk around, breath in the sea air and maybe even buy very expensive refreshments. No chance, “you’re on the 10:30 ferry” she breezed. “ Go to lane 212, thank you” and that was it . We drove down and within 10 mins we were being wedged on to the ferry. We were the last last vehicle on. As we climbed out of the car the doors were shutting behind us and the note of the engines was rising. We climbed the stairs to the lounge found a table and some seats and sat, in a way bewildered at the turn of events. Ok that probably last for maybe 5 possibly even 10 seconds before the universal call of the child in a new place crossed the table. “Mum, I need the toilet” brought reality crashing back in. So once toilets had been found and visited, we got an overpriced drink and sandwich. I suppose it is what to be expected. This was our holiday and to be honest I did not mind. The crossing, flat and uneventful , passed by and we soon found ourselves back in the car and venturing into another country, France and a whole new way of doing things.

Disembarking in Calais brought with it the first major trial of our holiday, and I failed at the first attempt. So driving on the other side of the road is easy, turning left or right is all wrong. At the first opportunity I turned left directly into oncoming traffic. Yes it was only one car and it was a long way off and the knowing look he gave me as he drove past after my rapid reverse and return to the beginning, It scared the ******** out of me and gave me that nagging doubt in my own judgement that just lurked in the back of my head for days afterward. Probably a good thing that kept me on the straight and narrow for several days.

Following instructions from our sat nav we journeyed south towards our overnight stop. Our two children had resumed their position in the back watching DVDs or their DSs. They were quiet and seemed reasonably happy.

Having given over our route to our sat nav we dutifully followed its instructions to come off the Peage and venture onto country lanes which gradually got smaller and smaller, until we found ourselves on a single track road with tall hedges on either side and no passing places. For us there was no oncoming traffic or tractor to follow.

There were mutterings from behind me that a break was needed, and we entered a small village with a railway station, whose name totally escapes me. There, sitting on the bend in the road just after the level crossing was a café. A “French” café, it almost jumped out and said, “STOP, yes, this is what you have been looking for”. So we obliged and did a late lunch. So it transpired that the owner was English who has come to find themselves and their “Art”, but until then they were providing hungry tourists and maybe even locals with a pit stop. Daughter No 1 took one look at the menu and turned her nose up. What do you do with an aspiring vegetarian whose only real experience of cheese is limited to Sainsbury Mild Cheddar.

Fortunately, we managed to get something that appealed to all palettes and a visit to the toilet we headed south towards Abbeville and our campsite.

A mix of chalets, caravans and tents around a core of permanent facilities, swimming pool, restaurant etc. we had a caravan for our first night. I found the shop, before it closed, and pulling from the compartment marked, “use occasionally in emergencies” I dragged my store of French kicking and screaming into the cold light of day and realised just how rusty it was. I managed with lots of help to be polite to the girl behind the till and ordered some bread for the morning. We then slowly collapsed as the length of the day slowly got to us all. A meal of fresh (ish) pasta with a tomato and mascarpone sauce and fresh bread. Yes I know pasta is from Italy (even from China) but my children will eat it and so will I. I washed up as my wife and children played, they were happy.

From memory the morning arrived bright and clear. After a going to collect our bread we sat down to breakfast. I had forgotten about freshly baked bread, still warm. Some butter, bousin and ham and I was gone. The girls stuck with what they knew, Cocopops and milk. I could have happily stayed put and indulged for the rest of the morning, perhaps even the rest of the day. Unfortunately we needed to move. Our next destination lay several hundred km to the east and we had to leave the site by 10:00am. So with a full but happy stomach we headed off eastwards.

April again

I have just been looking at the pictures I posted last April as again I have been amazed at the advanced state of some of the signs of spring/ summer. As I drove home this evening I saw Horse Chestnuts in full bloom. I saw this last year, they are so much earlier than my memory suggests. I am sure that the last picture in What to look for in Spring had as its last illustration a picture of swifts around a Horse chestnut in flower.

I do have very fond memories of Ladybird book, have a look at this site ladybirdflyawayhome.com run by a very dedicated lady called Helen. You can also leave her any questions you may have about ladybird books.

My favourites were the Mammals series, by John Leigh Pemberton I think I started with European Mammals and then worked my back to get the others in the series. Though I do remember waiting what at the time seemed like an eternity for South American Mammals, which was the last in the series. I must have read each one hundreds of times and I think some if not all are still at my mother's house in various states of repair.


Sorry but it is bed time, I have to go to work tomorrow

goodnight

April again: Time, Change and staying put

So April has got into double figures and I have found the time and the inclination to start writing something. Where to start that has always been the problem. I have been wondering about going back to the same place and taking a series of pictures that represents how a place changes as time goes by.


So for example I have walking along the canal at the down the road from me fairly regularly over the last few years and over last year or so have tried to take pictures from the same place. Looking north from north side of Gillity Bridge on the Rushall Canal as it runs through the Parkhall Estate. I took these three picture over the last couple of months.

The first was taken in early November 2010, the leaves and the colours just about hanging on.

The second taken towards the end of December of the same year shows how things can change, the main colour is now white, it looks cold and harsh and yet 3 and a half months later spring has returned, bringing new colour and all the cliches that goes with it. Even the swans are back to add that little touch.


This sort of illustrates the thing that has been nagging way in the back of my head for a while.

Sorry if this is beginning to get a bit over the top but....

Things change whether you want them to or not. Even if we stay in the same place and we try to stay the same, the fourth dimension gets us every time, literally. Time moves on in its own sweet way. Time and experience changes us and our perception of our surroundings. I am sure that Albert Einstein had quite a useful contribution to make on this, I will leave you to mull this over.

This lat week I have taken some other pictures that I like and this is one of my favourites. This was taken on Saturday in on my walk around the Forge Mill Lake. the hedges either side of the path have grown over to form a tunnel which supports the "blossom" through its structure.

OK night for now as I am tired

Signs of Spring April 2011

The second week in April has been increasingly warm and dry here in the UK and I read from various sources that March was very dry as well if not particularly warm, well it did not feel warm any way.

Today, Sunday I went for a walk with my youngest up to Merrions Wood which is about a 10 minute walk away. As I wandered around I could feel the approach of summer. It is only the early part of April and there are Bluebells in the wood. On the other hand the trees are in general taking there own time about the matter. Though the Sycamore and the Horse Chestnuts are waking up and producing leaves and flowers, the Oak and Beech which predominate are just stirring and you have to look for signs of life.

Standing still and watching and listening in the wood helps catch sight of the birds in the tree tops. Various members of the tit family could be picked out including my favourite, long tailed tits. I would love to get a picture of one of them, but they are too far away and I had my own individualised bird scarer with me who needed some sort of attention.

There are portents of Summer all over the place, yesterday I went to the Forge Mill Lake and on the RSPB part, on one of the posts sat a Common Tern. Whether it was on of the breeding pair from last year or even one of their 3 offspring that flew south last year I have no idea.

On the other hand as a reminder of more recent and colder times there are still large numbers of this winter's visitors. On the lake there were Teal and Shovellers aplenty and a good number of Goosanders, mainly female, which looked ready to depart any time now. I do have the sense that things are moving now and a gear has been changed. Spring has just started and it will not remain as warm as this for long, It is however steps forward and steps back, but th esteps forward are outweighing the steps back.

It is still only the 1st half of April, there is much to happen yet and the anticipation, keeps me interested.

Bed time

Into April

Its April and I should have more to sit and write down. Last week my father finally made it to 70 and had a really good party. I am sure though I used to be able to cope with parties much better, Thursday morning and my body made sure I realised that overindulging is never a good thing, well at least until next time.

So back to the normal stuff, for a while at least. Days are getting longer and now the clocks have changed I get home from work in the light. It makes a major difference though I don't think I want to do double summer time. I was once in Brussels in December and it was just getting light after 9:00am. It probably would not be that bad here, but winter is dark enough without trying to tinker with it.

This weekend has seen a couple of firsts for the year in terms of my bird watching. On a walk around the Forge Mill Lake on Saturday afternoon I saw a couple of Chiffchaff flitting around. I was quite impressed with myself in that I recognised what they were. It does help if the you see a small green bird on a branch going chiff chaff, chiff chaff etc etc.

My second first as it were was this afternoon in my garden, glancing up I saw a House Martin bopping around just above the rooftops.

Spring has well and truly arrived when the migrants start to turn up. The leaves on lots of trees and shrubs are coming out now with that bright new green of spring.

This was going to be short as I started late and it is now definitely time for bed.