A tour through the French countryside

We have returned from two weeks at Camping Manjastre.   We had a lovely holiday, with plenty to write about, but no time for blog writing.  But now that we are home, I have time to catch up.  

However I have needed to prioritise my time a little.   First to unpack, then washing all our linen and clothes, and then tackle the overripe plums on the tree, and the huge bag of rhubarb from Emma and Steve.

The plum jam has now been made, together with stewing some of them, and freezing, for future use.   I can assure anyone eating the jam or stewed fruit that were were no worms in any of the plums.  The small proportion of the plums that were affected by worms were put directly into the rubbish bin.  

After my rhubarb collapsed from lack of water in April, I have been nurturing the new spindly stalks with plenty of compost and chicken manure.   How do Emma and Steve manage to produce such huge stalks of rhubarb as they do nothing to their patch, except harvest the rhubarb.   No fertiliser or compost.    The only answer  that I can give, is that the roots are attached to an underground spring.   I am so envious of their continuous crop.

But back to our four day tour from the south of France.   We decided to take this tour in order to avoid the dreadful traffic problems on the A7 from Toulon to Lyon.   Changeover Saturday or Black Saturday, results in a huge exodus of people driving home or heading down to the Mediterranean for their holidays.   Even though most cars are airconditioned, it is miserable sitting in a slow moving car, in the hot sun, for hours on end.

Our slow progress down to the south of France at the end of July.

After packing up our caravan in extremely windy weather, we set off feeling very wind burnt and dishevelled.   That is after we drank a much needed cup of coffee with Emma and Steve, in the restaurant at the campsite.     

Emma, Steve, Jackson and Isabel were driving to Digne-les-Bains for two nights before catching the plane from Marseille.   Interestingly we had separately decided to include Digne-les-Bains in our tour, although we stayed in a small village about 15 kms south of the town.  

We decided that we would drive there by different routes rather than have the stress of trying to follow one another by car.    This was just as well, as we had to turn around quite a few times when we took the wrong road, as we meandered across the hills in Provence, mostly on narrow winding roads, between the two motorways, A57 and the A8 which lead to Nice and beyond.  

The scenery was beautiful, and serene, and the traffic that we encountered was heading towards the motorway rather than in our direction.  Great we thought.   But toilet stops had to include trees, as there were no service stations or aires on the roads that we took.   The joys of cross country travel. 

We headed towards the Parc du Verdon, no time for a drive along the gorge this time, or a stop at the lake at the head of the gorge.   However the rocky outcrops, and spiky trees were very interesting.   We realised that we were continually climbing, which was understandable as we were heading for the lower mountains.

Our stop for lunch was at a small town, called Riez, which was on the crossroads in the national park.   There were heaps of very busy restaurants, plus a market, so we assumed the town was in the middle of a popular holiday area.   

We chose a large restaurant, and sat out on the patio, and ate our huge and delicious salads.  Very relaxing.   I wished we had arrived a little earlier, so that we could have spent some money at the market.   Lots of interesting goods for sale.

Finally we arrived at our hotel, a very French village hotel, Hotel de la Place, in the village of Mezel, which has stood unchanged for decades I think.   So much atmosphere.

The photograph below shows the bar/cafe at the front of the hotel.   The bar opened on a Sunday afternoon, but the cafe part was open every morning for the prerequisite morning coffee, plus a pastry from the patisserie next door.  Mind you, some of the local characters chose to start their morning with a stronger drink, a glass of wine or pastis.   

The hotel had been modernised, thank goodness, with a bathroom in the corner of the bedroom.   The bed was also very comfortable, which was a relief.   Past memories of terrible beds came into our minds as we made our way up to our room.   The floors were tiled and highly polished.

The hallway had many interesting objects on show on the walls.   The owners of this hotel were collectors of memorability I think.   A very friendly couple too.

We walked down the road to the local bar/restaurant for an evening drink, a very pleasant red wine for me but no non alcoholic beer for Walter, who could not even get his favourite sparkling water, Perrier, either.   It was very pleasant sitting under the grape vines in the early evening sun.

There was a road between the bar and the terrace, which the staff had to cross, with drinks on trays or food orders.   Health and Safety not a great priority.   We decided to add to their safety by eating cheese and biscuits in our room.

We went for a walk around the village, with its narrow streets.   I loved the green shutters on this house.

I can see why a wide bypass road was made around the edge of the village.   Very narrow streets, with very high houses.

Walter posing in between the high houses.

The next day we drove the 15 kms to Digne-les-Bains, which was the capital of the Department of Alpes de Haute-Provence.   The town was also on the Route Napoleon, which Napoleon Bonaparte used after his imprisonment on the island of Elba.   The area was very interesting geographically, as there were large outcrops of rocky cliffs, and vertical rock stratas.   The cliff faces change often due to landslides and earthquakes.   There was also the accompanying hot water springs.   A great place for people who like walking and rock climbing.    

A view of the river, which ran through the town.

We met Emma, Steve, Jackson and Isabel, who all looked a little dazed after a sleepless night on uncomfortable beds.   They were staying in a very English static caravan at the local camping ground.     

Some caffeinated drinks at a local cafe helped considerably; strong coffee for Emma and Steve, and Coca Cola for Jackson and Isabel.    It was lovely to catch up with them, and we had plenty to talk about.  

The caffeine gave us all a burst of energy so we went for a walk around the streets, where there were plenty of lovely old buildings set in tree lined streets.   

Both Emma and Jackson took our photos, but I must confess that Jackson's photo was the more flattering one, as he knelt on the ground in order to get the perspective right.

We reluctantly left Emma, Steve, Jackson and Isabel, who spent the day walking around a lake, swimming and generally discovering much about the local area.  That night they all slept on mattresses in the lounge room in the caravan and had a more restful night.

We started on our journey to Grenoble.   We decided to take the lower road, rather than Route Napoleon which we had travelled on last April.   We called the road the Route de Motorhomes as there was a constant stream of motorhomes travelling in  both directions.   I guess they, like us were avoiding the busy motorways.   It also saved the drivers of the motorhomes a considerable amount of money travelling on this road.  No tolls. We can remember doing the same when we had a motorhome.

The road was actually called the D1075 and it meandered through a very scenic valley below the higher alps.   However, we were still fairly high up as there was steep descent down to Grenoble.   There were also a number of cars travelling on the road, but it all went very smoothly.    Only one hold up, due to work on the railings of a bridge.

This was an impressive rocky outcrop.    Huge, stark and a sheer drop on one side, due to a landslip.   Amazing rock formations in this part of France.   I wish I knew more about rocks!

We stayed in a hotel chain called B&B, in  Grenoble.    Very stark, but very clean and comfortable.   Grenoble was so quiet, and no traffic, both when we arrived and when we left the next day.   Most unusual, as Grenoble was known for its confusing motorways running this way and that, and sprawling suburbs and commercial parks.   Getting lost, or being caught in traffic around Grenoble was not uncommon.

Dinner that night was at a restaurant chain, and although our hamburgers were very good, the service was deplorable, which spoilt the experience completely.   We should have known.

After a good nights sleep, and breakfast in our room, muesli plus rolls saved from dinner the night before, we set off again, on the next part of our tour.

We chose to drive on country roads again, and all was quiet, with most shops and factories closed.  People were taking advantage of the day between Sunday and a public holiday on Tuesday, in order to have a very long weekend.  Again Walter navigated and I drove.

Our first stop was in a town called Voiron, south west of Chambery.   The beautiful Cathedral of Saint-Bruno de Voiron, caught our eye as we drove through and we knew we needed to stop and have a look.

A photo of Walter standing in front of the huge doors.

The inside of the cathedral was also impressive.  A much loved church.  In fact the cathedral was only built between 1864-1873, but it felt much older.

The buildings in Voiron were very well maintained.   Quite a prosperous town.

Time for coffee!  We chose the cafe/bar that was frequented by all the early morning drinkers of wine and pastis.  How do people manage to drink alcohol so early in the morning!  The coffee was very strong, and black.   No Cafe Creme in this place.   Fascinating.   The more conservative cafe was further along the road, but we missed it.   Still I am sure the cafe we chose had more interesting customers.

We drove on, very slowly, passing through many towns and villages.   So much to see.   Finally we came to our lunch stop, at Bourg-en-Bresse, where every shop was closed, with all the workers enjoying the lovely long weekend.   Luckily there was a takeaway chicken shop opposite the place where we parked the car.   Not that I felt like overcooked takeaway chicken, but they also served yummy chips and hamburgers.

Another church, the Church of Notre-Dame, with a facade built during the Renaissance, with other parts of the church being Gothic.

The very ornate Theatre De Bourg En Bresse.

The entrance to the town.

We wandered around the narrow deserted streets, admiring the beautiful buildings.  Unfortunately we did not first take note of the street we were parked on, or in fact even the area.   So we became lost in a mire of streets seemingly going in different directions.   Google maps cannot find a car when you do not know where it was parked, or a chicken shop either.  All we could remember was that the car was parked beside a stream.  Luckily we found a map on a board and were able to locate the stream. Phew. That was close.

Once back at the car, we looked at the next destination, our hotel for the night, and realised that we needed to drive there on the motorway, otherwise we would be spending the night slowly travelling along country roads.  We took the A40, then the A39, via Dole and our not so favourite city, Dijon, until we turned off the motorway towards a little village called Orges, out in the green rolling hills.   Beautiful lush farmland.

This was quite a find, a wonderfully quiet and small hotel, run by a friendly couple who have restored the buildings around the house.    As well as the beautiful old house, in the photograph below, they have converted a building into two flats, renovated an old barn which was now used for weddings, and other functions.  The most fascinating renovation was the old mill, which had a working water wheel, plus old machinery which was still being used by the wife to make artificial flowers for Haute Couture in France:  theatres, Chanel, Dior etc.    If anyone is interested in looking for more information, the address is www.moulin-de-la-fleuristerie.com.

We had a lovely room, with a huge bed, and a large open window with a beautiful view of the surrounding countryside.  We slept very soundly, and ate a delicious breakfast in the morning.   Such a spread.

I forgot to say we ate a very reasonable dinner the night we arrived, at the motorway services, three kms from the house.   We parked at the back of the services, in the carpark used by the staff and local residents, walked through the gate, and made our way to the restaurant which was part of the services.   

On the final day, we drove on a very quiet motorway, past Troyes, Reims, and onto Calais, where we caught the ferry to Dover.   A very uneventful day, but still very pleasant.

We were very fortunate as there were hardly any trucks on the road on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, due to the ban on trucks on Sundays and public holidays (Tuesday).  As we were not towing a caravan we felt a sense of freedom.   However we missed not being able to cook our own meals as it can be so hit and miss restaurant wise, when travelling by car and staying in hotels.

Altogether it was a very pleasant four day journey and great to reminisce as I wrote this blog.