On our own - Camping Manjastre

We are now on our own at Camping Manjastre, and feeling a bit lonely after a lovely nine days with David, Catherine, Barry and Diana.    

On Monday we drove them to Nice, a two hour car trip away, in order for them to catch their plane to Dubai, where they are now enjoying very, very hot days.   

But before they left there was a quick car wash of the two hire cars.   Three men, and two buckets of soapy water, certainly made light work of the sand blown over from the Sahara Desert.   And yes, the desert sand certainly blows over the Mediterranean and straight onto the land here.  In this case, on our cars.

Our last cup of coffee, before departing to Nice.   It was a very windy day, blowing from the west this time, so no Sahara Desert dust.   It was almost a mistral, but not quite.

And this morning I woke to silence, the wind had gone, thank goodness.   However, my bed was filled with leaves and twigs from the trees.   Not pleasant.

A view of the deserted pool.  The temperature in the pool has dropped to 19 degrees, due to the high wind.  But what a beautiful view.

Donna's caravan and our motorhome have gone from the site.  Empty!

 Walter, in his swim suit, relaxing in the shade of the trees.   The water may be cold, but the air temperature was hot.

 I am looking after your ant colony, David and Barry.   I have not been tempted to pour boiling water over them or spray them with insecticide.   These ants have been building their nest during the last nine days, and carrying huge pieces of bread, and twigs, to the entrance.    They have made three large road ways, in order to carry their goods.    Busy, busy ants.   They have been the source of much amusement for us.

Only four more days until we leave the campsite.   Although we miss the rest of the crew, it is still a beautiful place to holiday and we will be looking forward to coming back in August.

Bormes-les-Mimosa

Bormes-les-Mimosa.    A very pretty village, with lots of Mimosa trees.   And above the village there is a 13th Century Romanesque Chapel called Notre-Dame de Constance Chapel, 315 metres above sea level.   A very stiff climb up the path above the village, via the 13th Century Chateau ruins.    

Barry striding up the path, in the hot sunshine, keeping an eye out for the large green beetle

 like creatures with very long legs.  Some of the creatures had very pointy tails, rather like a hornets tail .     No messing about with these creatures.   Fascinating though.   And probably harmless.

 Finally we reached the chapel.    Catherine posing in front, in the shade, and feeling relieved to have reached the top.   A beautiful chapel though.

 

 Some welcome shade and a cool breeze.

 The view down towards Le Lavandou and the Bormes' plains was worth the climb, especially as we had a lovely clear day.

And finally back down into the village.

 We were interested in the history and the relevance of the chapel to the  village, so I researched it on the internet, but did not come up with any information about the chapel.    However I did find out about the history of the village.   A very difficult history.   The village was sacked by the Saracens in 730, attacked by the Spanish in 1362, sacked by the Corsairs in 1393, the population decimated by the plague in 1482, burned by the Maures in 1529, ravaged by Genois of Andrea Doria in 1539, and again in 1579 (The Wars of Religion).  

Finally the village was set up as a tourist town in 1890 and the buildings restored.    Peace at last.

The patron saint of the village is Saint Francois de Paul, who stopped the plague in 1482 when he was a monk.    There is a church, and a carpark, named after him.

We walked up and down the little narrow streets, and spent some money of course.

A restaurant, under one of the arches.    Lovely and cool and very inviting.

And up some more steps.

A view of the street which runs past Saint Trophyme Church.    Do you remember this street, Brian?    And the crazy man in the little car who sped down the street, and nearly ran you over, before knocking another tourist to the ground, plus a dog, and then speeding off, with people chasing him.   Scary!    You will be relieved to know that although we kept to the side of the street, we did not have a repeat experience.

But we were in time to see a wedding emerge from Saint Trophyme Church.   There were many weddings taking place in the village last Saturday.   A popular wedding venue.

The line up of the wedding guests, all ready for a photograph.

And then back to the campsite again, for a sleep, after the marathon climb to the chapel.   The pleasures of being on holiday.

Hyeres

 A day in Hyeres.   A beautiful town, about half an hour away, by car.    Walter was leading today, so no problems with getting lost.    First stop of course, was for coffee, sitting on the terrace, overlooking the square, so that we could watch people walk by.   Always very interesting.

Then off up the narrow street with many little boutiques, which seemed to have replaced all the tatty souvenir shops since we last visited the town.  Catherine and Diana, looking for the ultimate bargain.  Not that we found one though.

 A view over the old square, with all the restaurants clustered around the outside, and in the centre too.    An expensive place to eat, I think.

 So we continued up the hill, until we came to another square, in front of the old church, not open though.   But the lovely shade trees were very welcome in the hot sun.

 And we continued on up the winding streets.   The purple bougainvillea creepers were everywhere.   So beautiful    We used to have one over our outside toilet in Adelaide.   They are certainly great in covering eyesores, but in the case of the buildings in Hyeres they highlight the picturesque houses.

 And so we climbed up some more, until we came to the lovely hidden garden of a house which once belonged to an America female writer.    Sorry I have forgotten her name.   But she certainly had a wonderful spot, in which to write her books.    A view towards ti the church we had just left, and overlooking part of Hyeres.   Hardly a cloud in the sky.

 A view of the lovely house and courtyard,

 David and Barry posing among the shrubs in the garden.   They look very decorative.  They were actually on a path which led up to the ruined castle at the top.

 And here they are looking back down at us.    I think Barry is actually taking a photograph of us.

 More bougainvilleas, scarlet flowering varieties.    David getting his photograph taken by the other four members of the party.    What a star!

 A view through one of the archways, with yet another bougainvillea flowering profusely at the end.

And back down the final narrow street, and to the car.     Such a beautiful town.

We then drove to the local hypermarket, where there was a cafe, with very good food.    We somehow managed to get the translation wrong and our intrepid four received huge glasses of beer, which they managed to drink.   The manager of the cafe then gave us a little drink to finish, alcoholic of course.    After some air kisses given by David to our waitress, and Barry taking lots of photographs of the staff, we walked out feeling very happy, and somewhat light headed.      

Le Lavandou

A day in the local town of Le Lavandou.    After our morning walk, and a leisurely breakfast, we set out to see the market in Le Lavandou.   This was held in a large carpark, and by the time we arrived it was very busy, and quite hot.   Always interesting and plenty to see.   I over did it on the garlic buying.   I think I have enough to supply the whole family.

 The same carpark, in the afternoon, after the market had left.    It was hard to believe that the area had been filled with market stalls, and people, only a few hours before.

 After the market we went across the road to a temporary summer cafe.   The coffee was pretty poor but the owner had plenty of personality.    Diana managed to get a free drink of rose.   Plenty of charm there.

 A walk along the sea front, in the warm sunshine.    There were plenty of people on the beach, soaking up the sun, and getting nicely tanned, or sun burnt, depending on the type of skin.

 We continued walking around the sea front to the port, and I think the sorting out of nets on this little fishing boat kept our four interested for a while.    No doubt they were thinking of rough seas, small boats and danger.    

David admiring this large sailing boat.   It was a beauty, came with a crew too.

 And we watched the games of boules being played in earnest.     Some aggressive play going on.

And then off to the shops to purchase some local fashions.    And there were some good purchases, for the discerning buyers.  

A day in our life, at Camping Manjastre

A few photographs to show how we spend our time in the camping ground, other than annoying the neighbours with the sound of our 'soap'.   They left, by the way, at 8.30 this morning.   Just got up and packed their tent, no breakfast, and off they went.   Walter had just enough time to give them a little word about making value judgements.   We have come to the conclusion it is full moon.

But onto more pleasant matters.    Donna's caravan and our motor home, side by side on a pitch.   Comfortable abodes for David and Catherine, and Barry and Diana.  

Our caravan on the corner pitch, and the centre for food and discussion.

David and Barry, all ready for their bike rides.   They covered extra kilometres, checking out all the side roads, due to not being able to find the bicycle track.  But they had a good time.

The boys, looking fit and trim, and all ready to dive into the swimming pool.   But there was a need to beware of topless sunbathers, especially ones lying beside the deep end of the pool!   Health and safety reasons of course.

The evenings have been glorious, as we watched the sun set behind the hills and the trees.

Every morning we set off for our walk at 7.15 a.m.   Such a beautiful time of the day.   Barry and Diana  striding purposely along the track.

We have become very fond of this donkey, which greets us every day, as we walk along the road.  

An early morning scene through the cork oaks.   So peaceful.

And when we are not tripping around the countryside we sit outside in the shade and relax or eat or drink pleasant glasses of wine or beer.   

We finish the day with a walk to the recycling bins by the main road, or at least one or two people walk to the recycling bins.   Always a good place to strike up a conversation with another camper.  And to fossic through the bottle recycling bin to look for a missing olive oil bottle (half full) which someone had accidentally placed in our recycling bag.   I wonder who did that?

What a wonderful life!  

La Londe

Off to La Londe for lunch.   A pleasant location, away from the maddening crowd, or at least most of the holiday makers.   And always easy to get a car park.

The port of La Londe, nothing large or flash, but full of pleasure craft.

Lunch in a  favourite restaurant, a pity about the red plastic roof, which always gives people a strange glow.  And it is not the alcohol either.

David leaning against the front of his sailing boat.   Wishful thinking there, David.

The beach in front of the French President's holiday home.   Yes I know it is a large rock, but inside this rock there is a very large and palatial holiday home, with swimming pool.   All well guarded of course.  

A pleasant day, driving around the wineries, beaches and ports.  I was the lead car, and again I managed to drive down some unexpected and very narrow roads.    Just a few minor scratches on the car, and a sudden move to the incorrect side of the road, which surprised a driver going around the roundabout.    Nothing major, thank goodness.

St Tropez (or not)

We have just been told exactly where we stand in the English social order, as according to the people opposite us in the camping ground.        

I admit we were not adhering to an unwritten camping rule, which is do not play music or have the TV on so that other campers can hear it.   We first watched a short YouTube Clip about the closing of a pub and a pie cart in Alexandra, NZ, which some enterprising New Zealander had written subtitles on top of a film about Hitler.   We then went on to watch the beginning of the original series of 'Mrs Brown's Boys, filmed about 8 years ago.  On my laptop.  A little too  much base humour, I know, and obviously sound carries.  

First the man came over, and said 'About your soap.    We don't like your soap'.    Our soap?  Did we leave our detergent in the washing up area, or maybe the smell of the soap we use offended him?   Then the woman (his wife?) with the posh voice, who obviously thought her partner was not dealing with the situation well, stormed into our site and stated that she did not like our choice of soaps, and did not want to be subjected to listening to them.  Ah. the noise from the laptop.  We understand. Well we know where we stand then, in the order of things, that is.    Why did they not just come over and ask us to turn the computer off, instead of making a value judgement about what we were listening to.   Some people!

But this leads me onto my next topic.    The ill fated trip to St Tropez.    We left a little later than we should, considering that there was only one narrow road into St Tropez.   When we got there we found three quarters of the car park was closed, so therefore the remaining part was completely filled up.    So we had to turn around and go back again, back past all the hopeful people in cars in the very long queue on the other side of the road.  

What to do?   We drove to the hypermarket, and headed for the cafe, not quite the same as sitting on the red chairs drinking expensive coffee, while looking at the huge boats, moored in the quay at St Tropez.  And watching the people posing on the back of the huge boats, as they eat breakfast, and looking at the rest of us  slumming it, in the cafe.  

  The variations in life!    I love it.

Collobrieres

 Collobrieres.    A favourite little town, nestled in a valley, not too far from the campsite.   The main industries of the town were producing cork, from the cork oak trees, and chestnut production.   There is still a little chestnut (marron) factory still in the town, which produces chestnut ice creams, jams, and other items, which they import to other countries.   

The drive over the range of very high hills, in order to get to Collobrieres is nerve wracking to say the least, as the road is very narrow and twisty, and with a long drop down to the valley below.  This would be enough, but the road is popular with French cyclists, the racing variety, who ride in the middle of the road, at a very fast speed, well going downhill anyway.   Terrifying for motorists.    

The first stop was coffee, much needed after the drive there.   So we found a lovely little cafe, for our cafe cremes.  

 We walked around the town, such a quiet place, and very picturesque.   However the quietness was disturbed last year, when two police women were killed by a young resident.   A fugitive from Toulon, I believe.   All very nasty.

The beautiful blue shutters on the Presbytery.

 The church of Our Lady, which has a beautiful 3D statue of Mary, set in a recess above the altar.    The blue of the shutters in the Presbytery most likely symbolize the blue of Mary.

 Back into the streets again, and we continued the walk through the streets, admiring all the beautiful buildings.

 David decided to run up this narrow alleyway.  Unfortunately there was a dead end.

 A very old archway between the houses.

 And what is this that has attracted the attention of our group?   A large concrete mixer.    We all had a look inside to see how much cement it could produce at a time.  Amazing conversation piece.

 

And I found a bicycle, no longer used for cycling, but an ornament in the front of this house.

 The town hall and square.   I never tire of taking photographs of this lovely scene.

 And then off through the one of the buildings to the restaurant on the terrace at the back, which is above the river.   Such a pleasant setting, and we all enjoyed our choices, mostly very large salads.   A perfect place for lunch.

After eating a chestnut flavoured ice cream, at the local ice cream shop, we set off back to the campsite, with me driving the lead car.   We decided to come back on the easy valley road.    Great, except that I got lost around Pierrefeu, and our guests spent the next hour viewing all the run down farms, and glasshouses, as I tried to find my way back to Hyeres, and onto the main road.   I knew where I was but I just could not find the correct roads.    We still have not put the maps in the car.  Great.