D Day Invasions, Mont-St-Michel, Loire Valley

I wanted to see the beaches that were used during the D-Day invasion. 

Arromanches les Bains faces the English Channel and still has the remains of the temporary harbours that were floated across to assist the logistics of landing so much equipment and so many troops for the invasion by combined Commonweath forces. The beach, Gold Beach – named in WWII, had the remains of these temporary breakwaters – called Mulberry after the military code name. 

On D-Day, 6 amphibious divisions supported by 6000 boats and ships and 13,000 aircraft were involved landing 45,000 troops for the initial invasion that was the start of the liberation of Europe.

The French are sticklers for tradition and I was thinking that the big lunchtime close down would have been overtaken by modernity – apparently not. So in this windswept town there were tourists mooching around in drizzle waiting for things to open - everything closed, tourist office, museum the lot. No shared lunch shifts here. I wonder what the employees do with their 2 hours?

The experience was completed by a visit to the nearby American cemetery. The Americans landed at Omaha and Utah beach while the Commonwealth forces landed at Gold/Sword/Juno beaches. The American cemetery was extremely well done. Everything was immaculate, the marble crosses and stars that marked the graves were cut as if by laser and laid out in absolutely straight lines. The crosses were endless. The trees and lawns groomed to within an inch of their lives. It was all so beautifully done by the Americans. While it was raining I watched some audio visuals in the elegantly understated white marble visitor centre.

That evening we stayed at our best aire so far, it was behind a manor farm house ,which beside raising dairy cows, had a sideline in tourist accommodation. Rural outlook, a large gravelled area to park and a large grassed and hedged area beside us. The neighbouring property held an ancient stone building with an information board in front of it describing it as a 14^th century chateau. It needed some major ‘Grand Design Restoration’ but was a working cidery that also sold Calvados (apple brandy) and Pommeau – apple brandy diluted with apple juice. So we did our bit for the local economy.

Stuart cycling toward MSM

Stuart wanted to re-visit Mont St Michel, further along the Normandy coastline. It is an abbey perched on top of an island and looks impressive when you see it from a distance, like a church floating on water. Forty years ago we roared across the causeway on Stuart’s Moto Guzzi, parked at the base and had a wander around. Not much about the abbey and the cluster of shops at the base selling tat and over-priced snacks has changed but the approach has.

The island was in danger of becoming joined to the land by silt collected against the causeway, so the causeway was removed and replaced by a bridge and system of barrages and dam to regulate the flow of water. There are huge 15 metre tides that swirl around the island, some incoming tides move quicker than a galloping horse across the mudflats. At low springtide the sea is 15km offshore.

Back to the approach – 40 years on we cycled to the bike stands, left Howard and Hilda in steely bondage and walked quite some distance to the new bridge. On the way back we were lucky enough to get on a push-me pull-you shuttle bus. (The buses don’t turn around but the driver moves from one end to the other).

 Persistent showers/rain accompanied us as we drove over 300km from Mont St Michel to the Loire Valley. There had been a lot of rain in the previous weeks and the Loire was grey and had flooded out campsites and other places that looked attractive to stay – well attractive if the sky had cracked open a shaft or two to let some light in. The aire we stopped at was next to/part of a council works depot but free. It had once been a milk factory. Even at the council depot all the hedges are trimmed as if with a set square, it seems to be a part of the French national pride to have well groomed foliage. There were tubs tumbling with pink petunias and begonias all beautifully maintained like the other gardens in the street.

The Loire had once been an important route for carrying goods but it is an unpredictable river as we discovered and lost out the transport business as rail developed.

We filled up on water before we left – much against Stuart’s desire – “ tankful is the weight of two people you know”, but it was free so there are two opposing forces in action here.

We had decided to stay in Saumur in the Loire Valley, again we are at an aire but it is very large and set among trees, unfortunately the flooding has caused the mosquito population to explode. They are massive beasts but quite slow moving.

We have pressed Howard and Hilda into action to transport us around. There are 800km of cycle ways in the Loire Valley, the highlight so far is the troglodyte ride. It was great, the piste went through some restored underground dwellings and shops that date back the 11^th century. They were carved out of tufa, limestone rock, and were well below the level where people are living now. These man made caves are know as troglodyte houses to the locals. Their temperature in the caves is very cool and the outside air is more humid than an Auckland summer. I could feel the draughts of cool air that created patches of mist as I walked past the cave openings.

An undergrouond cycle path

A dismounted cyclist

Umbrellas in Saumur

Saumur is a lovely town overlooked by its chateau, when we visited there were crowds of elegantly dressed women pressing into the numerous clothing shops that were offering sales. We are headed towards serious chateaux country soon but so far are enjoying the food and wine here. Will keep you posted.

En Normandie and le Nord

Over two hundred lanes, and we were directed to lane 192. At Dover, England we had tried to get on an earlier ferry but were given a ‘yellow owl’, a large yellow paper owl which instructed us to leave the terminal and come back later (we were not paying an extra £60 for an earlier ferry). Indeed, there are many more lanes at Dover than at Picton.

That night we stayed on our first aire after driving off the ferry. We ended up facing the English Channel and watched ferries arriving and departing. All very interesting if a bit noisy. An aire (de camping car) is a place designated for motorhomes to stop. Charges vary with services provided. In this case construction was happening and no charge – chalk that up in the plus column.

The next day we headed for the biggest shopping mall in the area and laden with goodies, wine, cheese, new shoes for Stuart, new cotton blouses for Jane we were immediately struck by how easy the roads were, there were no hedgerows, stone walls, potholes etc. We visited the pretty village of Wissant, a seaside village, tediously taking photos of floral arrangements and pretty houses. There were poppies lining the roads of northern France, a reminder of why the poppy is the symbol of remembrance.

In our first few days here we have struck the good the bad and ugly of French aires. One aire was in a town that the aliens had obviously abducted all the inhabitants, pulled down the shutters and left. However it was free but offered no service. At another aire we had a fabulous beachfront site with turquoise water lapping onto a pebbled beach. White cliffs provided a backdrop to the little beach huts, all built the same with pitched roofs of different pastel colours. The start of the Alabaster Coast.

We are driving a vehicle marked with British plates and although we can’t hear the hissing or see the sign of the cross made with fingers, the French in this part of France are not keen on Brits. Anyone who speaks English must be a Rosbif – ie roast beef, we call them froggies).

In a bakery I argued in my best schoolgirl French, rather poor given it has been 20 years, that I was short changed. I was loosing to the woman behind the counter when there was a sudden memory recall at the same time as another customer entered the shop. We were also sold the most tiny portions of icecream, I didn’t argue in this instance, hoping it might save the waistline.

Etretat shoreline

We stayed a night at Etretat, where the alabaster cliffs have formed into arches, tunnels and a needle. There were remnants of WWII and photos of how Rommel demolished some ancient buildings so he could have a better line of sight on the Channel. Etretat had one of the nicer aires, where the campers sorted themselves into 2 rows of French) and non-French. Unfortunately there was a problem with the ticket machine, which was not fixed by the time we left so we chalked up 8 euro in the plus column.

Beach huts on Alabaster Coast

Shopping

We stopped at Veules Les Roses, a gorgeous little village with a pebbly beach, but the best bit was the village itself. It was like the Cotswolds in Normandy with, flowers growing everywhere and to complete the scene there were a couple of springs that fed a little stream complete with brown trout. The villagers obviously had great pride in their houses and gardens.

We drove out of northern France/Picardy and into Normandy. The run to Honfleur, mostly went well, we were trying to dodge toll roads, and took the smaller toll bridge that spans the Seine then drove straight past the turn off to Honfleur. The satnav sent us up a motorway then turned us around to head back to the bridge. I was juggling satnav, map and an app on the ipad to try and figure if there was another option. Just before we thought we were in for another 2 sets of bridge tolls (there and back) there was a little sliproad that directed us to Honfleur – phew.

Since arriving in France we realised how important a stash of euro coins is to pay for parking (heaven forbid) and ticket machines at aires. The effort to generate coinage has not been inconsiderable, we have split up at supermarket checkouts to gain more coins. I am building a little stash and the thought of dipping into the secret stash for 2 trips across a toll bridge goes against the grain.

Honfleur has a large aire and we scored a site overlooking the marina, power is supplied to 2/3 of the sites and we scored that as well. After a bit of washing and clean up we cycled to a newly formed garden that faces Le Hauvre, then back to leave our bikes for a walk into Honfleur. Our bikes, Howard and Hilda have been put into use regularly if the places we visit look interesting. It saves my arthritic ankle for a start.

Honfleur has tall narrow buildings mostly clad in slate clustered around Le Vieux Bassin – old yacht basin. Beyond the basin, streets twist and turn and reveal little vistas of ancient medieval houses. All very romantic and olde worlde, so romantic that Stuart ran to a splash out on a treat of moules and frites and white wine in an open air restaurant beside the basin. The moules (mussels) are tiny blue/black shellfish, quite unlike our NZ greenlip mussels.

Honfleur

Honfleur, moules et frites

Today, Friday, we visited the D-day landing beaches in Normandy and knew how much my brother Chris would like to visit them. We visited the very impressive American cemetery and then using a book/app ended up at the best aire yet. It is in the grounds of a French manor farmhouse with a fabulous outlook and friendly farmer’s dog. We have a massive site to ourselves and all for the princely sum of 5 Euro.

The day was only marred slightly by the heart pounding incident when we ended up on a motorway by error and Stuart said ‘the accelerator is stuck’. Holy-moly, my low blood pressure shot up as the rear end of the big truck in front appeared closer and closer. After trying both pedals, he reached down and was scrabbling with his fingers around the gas pedal and said ‘carpet has bunched up’. He flattened it out and we resumed normal speed, but not for our heart-rates which took longer to slow down.

World Heritage Sites and getting connected

Blaenau Ffestiniog

That is a name isn't it? It is a village in the Snowdonia area an area popular with outdoorsy types. This villages claims to have 'roofed the world' - well the world that uses slate on their roofs anyway. A local man who Stuart helped change a tyre, directed us to a night camping spot outside a disused slate quarry.

On a mild calm evening, the lake and abandoned slate buildings in the quarry were a very tranquil spot to take our evening ramble (to employ a local phrase).

The village has a little narrow gauge railway that runs to a nearby port – Porthmadog. After a couple of attempts to park the truck we were satisfied with its position - across the road from some professional busy-bodies. We rode this dear little toy-train to Porthmadog. We enjoyed some excellent fish and chips and as it was another very hot day - an ice cream. No room left for dinner that night (in my book anyway).

After the train trip, about 5pm, we headed back to the previous nights campspot.   Alot of shuffling about ensued getting the truck level so the hot water would fire up for our shower before a scratch dinner. The night was a little unsettling to start with as someone parked next to us and kept their engine running for a long time, but eventually grew bored and left.

Was Thomas the Tank Engine Welsh?

Aquaduct at Llangollen 

Its a long way down to the river (crossing the gorge on the aquaduct)

We drove north about 30 miles to Bewts-y-Coed, an  attractive Welsh town with buildings of grey stone set around a stream which is rushing over rocks under the overhanging branches of fresh spring growth. We eschewed the pay and display (another £2.50 saved) and parked in the main street. We found a nice coffee place near the railway station, I resisted the cakes on display even though I wanted to sample the local baking.

Off again, to Llangollan where we parked in the pay and display- someone gave Stu their left over parking ticket - another £2.50 saved.

We stocked up with some more alcohol and bread and were off to a world heritage site -Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. It carries canal boats over the river valley, and stands on tall brick pillars.

Built by Thomas Telford and William Jessop, opened in 1805 it used to carry chemicals, coal and brick to the Midlands. It now is solely for pleasure narrow boats.

One of the pressing issues when carrying your house with you is disposing of waste and loading with fuels and water. We were able to take advantage of the facilities provided for the narrow boats and emptied the toilet cassette and filled with some fresh water. Relief all round as the hot weather is causing the toilet to turn a bit whiffy.

World heritage sites are on the menu this week as the next day we visited another World Heritage site one of the central hubs of the industrial revolution, Ironbridge gorge.

We spent the morning at an open air reconstruction of a Victorian town talking to volunteers and staff dressed in costume.

The candlestick maker

Internet access is very important to stay in contact with the outside world, I was told 'no problem, we have access and paid-up data - go for it'. Within a couple of days all paid for data was used and Stuart determined to get a source of free data. He ordered a wifi booster so we can tap into free wifi zones while remaining a distance away. This booster didn't come cheaply but is to be the way forward!

We already had a mifi (personal modem on the truck) but the booster was extra technology.
Alot of leaflet studying ensued and he rigged the system up but it wasn't performing as expected. "A pole, I need a pole" he said as he clapped eyes on my little truck-broom.  The bristles were removed, the white booster thing (about the size of two packs of cigs) was strapped to the broom handle with his ever-to-hand duct tape.  "Height, I need height". The broom handle with wifi booster was poked out of the ventilation hatch in the top of the truck. It was slowly rotated by hand. I was outside the vehicle by now and the whole scenario reeked of a surveillance operation in a crime show.

Still not quite performing as expected he moved the truck to a far corner of the nearby Tesco Supermarket and set up operations there to take advantage of their free wifi. I looked back as I walked away and could see a figure inside hunched over a laptop with the booster unit poking out of the truck, it looked suspicious to me. He sat there for a long time while I walked back to my parent's house. Success!  Free wifi was obtained and a penny saved is a penny blessed.

We did manage to book a passage on the aforementioned free wifi for a ferry crossing to France which will be a whole new chapter.

England and Wales - baby steps

Welsh camping spot

Holiday time in Tenby

Wheres Wally in Tenby

Cycle trail

The Chausson is a work in progress, we tried to think of a name and I suggested Claude, but it didn’t stick. Chausson means 'slipper' in French, which detracts from its image of an adventure-truck.

Howard and Hilda, the matching white bikes, are now up and running with cycle computers to record our distance and speed attained etc.
Howard is getting a water carrier today but Hilda is a different shape and might have to wait!

Initially we were camped outside my parents’ house in Ledbury, Herefordshire. Mum and Dad have been a big help with sorting out the necessities of life on the road. We were living on the street literally, their house is in a small cul de sac and I think every neighbour met us by the time we left.

The size of the vehicle is a bit daunting, not only is it a big brick but it has some 'danglers'. When reversing Stuart has to remember the grey waste  dangler doesn't clear the ground by much, the same for the diesel exhaust. I have been helping with reversing in the narrow English roads and parking lots.  

Supermarket carpark spaces are very tight and I encourage Stuart "yes, take up all 4 spaces in the far corner". I had a bit of a stand off with one man who was insisting on parking right next to us when we were manoevering in a 2 slot park. There were many similar spaces around us but he had his heart set on the one next to us. I did exaggerating motions with my arms of how the back of our truck would swing out and crush his car but he remained undeterred. Eventually a motorist behind tooted him into reality and he moved on.

On our second day we turned into 'Sandpit Lane', there is a warning in any road called 'lane' – don’t go there in this vehicle! We had hardly entered the lane to find two concrete bollards on sentry duty preventing anything larger than a Smartcar entering. We eventually extricated ourselves with me getting cars to back up so we could do a multi point turn. The spin off was a bit of gridlock onto the main road, we drove on, pretending we had no idea what caused it.

We have been spending our time in England and Wales familiarising ourselves with life on wheels. Wales has some lovely spots and the weather has been very favourable. We stayed a night at Tenby, something to do with Dylan Thomas? There were picturesque candy-coloured houses standing shoulder to shoulder looking out to the sea, less picturesque were the motley collection of holiday-makers. The only normal looking ones were the dogs.

We spent a night camping in Wales with our friends Phil and Jenny. We combined to create a memorable dinner, enjoying large succulent asparagus, meat bbqed by Stuart on our 'Easy Chef'. The Easy chef is a 3 burner that has a cast iron plate and it pulls out from the side of the truck. It acts as BBQ and cooker.We rounded the evening off with English strawberries, Belgium chocolate and the French 'sticky' and Calvados that had over-wintered in Phil and Jenny's truck.
I have never had strawberries so nice as these! I wanted to think they would pale in comparison to NZ ones but I was well wrong.

We are now in the Elan Valley in Wales, it is hot. We stayed here last night in an unofficial capacity as minder of the visitor centre. We had everything that we needed except water (forgot to fill before we left the camping ground. Never mind, Alan, the ranger pointed out the centre's
standpipe this morning and we filled up like a huge white camel. I checked at one stage to see that water was not gushing out of another orifice.

It is poetic really that this valley and national recreation area, is made of four water reservoirs. The water collected here supplies Birmingham with over
a million litres of water a day - and I had a bucket shower last night to conserve the stuff.

Learning, learning - it never stops