We are off again, back down to the south of France, to blue skies, hot weather and a life of leisure. Not that we have anything to complain about in the UK these past six weeks. It has been a glorious summer.
We had such a successful trip last July, by taking non toll roads, rather than dashing madly up the main motorway to Calais, and in the case of the motor home, paying an exorbitant amount of money in tolls. So we decided to repeat the experience by looking at an alternative way to travel to the south of France. In the car this time.
Our first view of Calais, with apartment buildings in the background and the aire for camping cars by the sea front. But of course we were in a car, so these type of airs were of no use to us this time.
Of course we had intended to use a few toll roads, as sometimes it was more convenient, as in the case of the motorway from Calais to Abbeville. But very busy, with British cars heading for Normandy, Brittany and other parts of the Atlantic coast. First stop for coffee, at a very unusual motor way services, with a conservation area and tower.
Then down to Rouen, along the Seine for a short distance, and then down through Evreux and Dreux on very clear roads, hardly any traffic. Beautiful scenery too, and plenty of grain crops growing and being harvested.
And then the cathedral of Chartres suddenly appeared, above the surrounding land, and above the buildings too, as they were barely visible as we traversed around the town. Truly remarkable. I have never visited Chartres, so my opinions of this town are based purely on a book I read, the name of which I cannot remember. The main character of the book, set in the 1920s, had a moment with a priest, in the one of the rooms below the church. The description of the cathedral and the buildings surrounding it, depicted the town as gloomy and depressive, but then the book was very dark too. Not a joyful book. The cathedral rising above the land, dark on a sunny day, reminded me so much of the book.
And we travelled through another small town, with deserted streets, and still no traffic. Of course it was a public holiday, we suddenly remember, the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady, the 15th August. so all shops and businesses were closed for the day. Mind you they could have all disappeared down to the south of France for their holidays.
And finally we arrived in Nevers, yes, it is pronounced as 'never'. A Latin name, and apparently there was a huge Roman settlement here, 2000 years ago, with plenty of conflict. But our destination was the Premiere Classe hotel, for 40 Euros a night. A little bit like sleeping in a prison cell, but clean, and beds are comfortable. We ate our evening meal, baguette with cold meat, cheese and salad, followed by yogurt. We were determined to make this a cheap trip, to justify the decision to avoid toll roads where possible.
And off again, down to Moulins and a few other small towns, until we came to Clermond-Ferrand, and the start of the free motor way, which runs down through the mountains to the Millau Viaduct. But of course many, many other people had the same idea, so this motor way was busy. But first a stop for coffee, in a small town, with a lovely cafe, and very good coffee.
A view towards the mountains, the ones that we were heading for, which were pretty spectacular, although the highest point is only 1,400 metres above sea level. But the valleys below are very popular tourist spots, and a must for a future visit. We passed the town of St Flour, which has an 'oo' sound, which I cannot say, as the 'oo' is combined with an 'r', due to my Southland (New Zealand) accent. But I always love the name, and would also like to visit this town too.
The Millau Bridge. Fantastic. The rest area, and restaurant, were crowded, and quite different from when we last visited this area, in June 2012. I think we were probably the only people there then.
This time, I climbed to the top, in sunshine, A photo of the bridge for you Brian, without the heavy rain, and dark clouds.
After leaving the Millau Bridge, we encountered heavy traffic, and this continued all the way to the campsite, which was not meant to be our destination. We travelled through Montpellier, very, very slowly, Nimes, only slightly faster, and until we arrived in Arles, but there were no vacancies anywhere. Busy, busy, busy. No room at any inn. This was just as well, as we had decided to splash out on a better quality hotel, and a meal out. We had had enough of being economical by now.
We rang the campsite, and they had already put our caravan on our site, so onto the toll roads, and off we went, as fast as we could, arriving at Camping Manjastre at 7.50 p.m. All together an 11 hour trip.
All set up, and ready for a four week holiday. On our own. Darby and Joan.
We did enjoy the first part of our trip down, as it was very quiet, but we have finally realised that the last 300 kms are always going to be traffic nightmares at this time of the year. Toll roads or no toll roads. A matter of gritting one's teeth, so as to speak. But at the end there awaits a lovely campsite and plenty of sunshine.
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