Friday 27^th May

Bells woke us around 7 this morning. We have not heard them except for some chiming of the hours since leaving the lower Moselle. France does not appear to be particularly religious especially in comparison with the Moselle. Towards Trier, shrines and crosses litter the Moselle vineyards and villages often contain more than one church. In France, villages appear to have 1 Catholic Church and they do not appear to be as richly endowed as in Germany.

Before leaving Beynac, and our lovely castle view, David first went and purchased our first croissants for breakfast. In France the croissants are what I call the proper size, not the tiny things we came across in Germany. However, I still prefer my toast! The croissants flake everywhere and consist of a lot of air. When we were here in 1977, Australian bread consisted of white or wholemeal (brown) Tip Top sliced sandwich bread and so we were amazed at the bread we found in France. This time, Australia easily outdoes France. Here you get baguettes (bread sticks) and cobs and not much else so far. Most bread is white and, in France, we have not seen the nice seed-encrusted, brown bread rolls of Germany. While we enjoy the baguettes we would prefer some more variety for lunch without having to buy a whole cob each day to get fresh bread. However, we do enjoy our gateaux although I would not say they are always better than Michael’s Patisserie at home. While we do well in the cities, Australian country towns cannot compete with every little French village with its patisserie. The old vanilla slice, meat pie and custard tart just don’t stack up against chocolat religieux, opera cake or citron tartlets. David enjoys a Divorce, a large circle of choux pastry cut down the middle. The cut is filled with cream while one side has chocolate icing and filling and the other, caramel icing and filling. Rather like the pair of us; I prefer caramel and David chocolate!

After breakfast, we both went over the road to the three little shops there. Naturally, we got our baguette and gateaux first, checked out the butchers (no prices so we didn’t buy) and picked up some groceries at the little supermarket. Our no buy policy is based on experiences here last time; if you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it! They were not cheap but, when on the road, it is best to buy when you find and, as it turned out, we saw no other supermarkets today. We purchased two fromage du chèvre (goat’s cheese) which we are looking forward to eating for Happy Hour today.

Our morning was spent at the gardens of Marqueyssac. They are the most visited gardens in Aquitaine although I am not sure my mother would care for them. Except for three banks of Hibbertia, with its yellow flowers, lining the ramp walkway to the entrance, a rosemary walk lined with silver plants trying to open their yellow buds, and a small bed of white roses outside the manor house, the gardens were just green. They have two types of gardens. Near the house are areas of buxus topiary in weird and various shapes, which are best seen from above, almost like a knot garden, and more natural vegetation called the park.

Then, you can walk three paths away from the manor house along a ridge of rock over 130m above the Dordogne River. The ridge is related to the rocky Central Massif of France and the river has meandered its way around it to create a promontory. At the house end, magnificent views across the valley allow you to enjoy three chateaux at once: Beynac, Fayrac and Castelnaud. For this reason alone, the site is a must. From the house, a wide path runs along the north, Beynac side in a rather straight and boring Grand Alleé that is fully shaded with few views but would be great on a hot summer’s day. On the opposite side of the promontory, another path winds its way, the Promenade des Falaises, as the meandering river curves back and heads for the little village of la Roque Gageac. Between these two, at the highest level, is a steep path that runs along the ridge, le Promenades des hauteurs. We opted for this route simply because a whole busload of French tourists arrived just as we did and the noise of their chatter and the French guide’s commentary was enough to spoil the silence of the garden. Being older, these tourists did not tackle the challenging high path and we had it largely to ourselves. All three paths basically end up at the Belvedere (lookout), over la Roque Gageac. The high route also had the added advantage of the best views while our return route along the Promenade des falaises brought us back under the edge of some of the cliff face. All told, we walked for two and a half hours and covered more than two thirds of the gardens 6km. However, the gardens away from the house are more like a bush walk. The paths are maintained between hedges of buxus and the rest of the land, outside the hedges, is just left au naturelle. Along the route there are lookouts, small stone buildings called cabane, a manmade waterfall, a chapel, children’s playground and, to our amusement, some curious pottery heads half-buried in the ground under trees along a path called the Asile du poète which I promptly labelled ‘The Dead Poets’ Society’. While we were able to get an English guide and booklet on the gardens, all the information plaques along the walkways were in French so we were not always able to understand much more than the fact that particular birds or flowers were to be seen in the area. The final feature of the garden we enjoyed was the peacock, which noisily inhabits the topiary. He was most willing to pose and enjoyed moments perched on the terrace walls contemplating his multi-million dollar view. All told, as a garden, we much preferred Les Jardins du Manoir d”Eyrignac but the views make this site amazing and a must see.

We continued along the road that follows the river until we reached la Roque-Gageac, which is a little version of Beynac and, frankly, disappointing. From a distance, this little town clinging to the bottom of a cliff face looks intriguing but it lacks the castle on top of the cliff that Beynac enjoys. Its narrow pathways between the houses are so narrow that even cars cannot get up them and steps are cut into them. Some of the paths are lined with narrow gardens that are pleasant with palms and bamboo along with flowers but the higher you go, the more unkept the gardens and houses become. There are cliff-face cave dwellings there but they are closed off from the public and labelled as dangerous. Thankfully, this road isn’t as busy or the town as popular as Beynac as there is no footpath along the main street on the river and the road is barely 2 cars wide. This does not seem to worry anyone. One woman sat on the roadside wall with her legs and feet protruding out on to the road so that cars had to stop and pass her single file! The main reason to go to this village seems to be the canoeing and river tour boats that set out form here. Passed the village there is enough ground to provide a large camping area and picnic grounds from where you can hire a canoe or hop on a boat.

From there we made our way towards the next large town, Domme, which we hope to see in the morning. However, we turned off the main road just over the river bridge and headed along its banks to a campground. It is a fair way out of town but still on a route to the high part of Domme, which is our destination. This camping area is 3-star but looks a little neglected as no one has yet bothered to mow the grass. There is a pool but no toilet paper, again! However, we are tired from our investigation of the gardens and the village and need to relax and perhaps use the Internet here, which is included along with showers. The municipal camping grounds are cheaper and 1 or 2 star which is fine when you don’t want a pool but they do not have or include the Internet and may have pay showers which we like to avoid.

We have tried our goat’s cheese and are a little disappointed; we get better at home. Time to go back to my book – a spy drama, of sorts!

Thursday 26^th May

I love the Dordogne! Today has been another wonderful day. It didn’t start so well after a sleep deprived night where my poor knees throbbed from all yesterday’s activity. So I had a domestic morning at the camping ground while David went to finish off the tour of Salat. This meant I could catch up on 2 days washing and get the van ready to travel. David was back before I had done all I planned. Without slow old me, and my poor knees, he was able to travel much quicker.

We left Salat via the roundabout route recommended by the camping ground people. This avoided the chaotic traffic of the town but was a long and curving loop from the northwest to the southeast of the town. However, we had no difficulty following it on the free map from the Tourist Office.

On the way out of town, David spied an electronics shop and managed to get a DVD burner at last. This will relieve pressure on his computer’s hard drive and allow us more back-ups for our photos. Then it was a short trip to some more famous topiary gardens. However, we changed our mind when rain increased in intensity. The overcast skies made it doubtful we would see anything from the great lookout at the gardens and the wet would make an outdoor activity unpleasant.

So, I suggested a change of plans and we went on to Beynac, which is famous for its feudal fortress perched on a cliff 150m above the town and Dordogne River. Yes, we would have to sacrifice the spectacular views from there but at least we could explore a castle that goes back to the 12thC.

However, as we approached Beynac, the clouds lifted and the rain stopped. So, that while the skies were overcast, we did enjoy the views as well as the castle. As a fortress, is contains virtually no furnishings and you take yourself through it with a guide. Like many of these castles, it looks huge from the outside but the rooms inside are small, except for one large State Chamber where for a period during the Hundred Year’s War, after 1442, 4 local barons ruled the area and held conferences. Here we discovered: guard houses, stables, kitchens, living rooms, guard turrets, the dungeons, the battlements and the latrines! What was surprising, however, is that there is a whole village of houses on top of the cliff next to the castle. Apparently, the baron’s vassals lived up there. Today, there are a few shops and a café / restaurant. One of the shops was selling unusual enamelled jewellery done with gold on copper. They were very Svetlana! But I resisted temptation.

It is a steep climb from the village to the castle so we had taken the easy route and driven up. On our return, we drove straight to the camping ground on the edge of the village and walked back to investigate the houses clustered between the road and river on one side and the cliff face on the other. This town would be a nightmare in the tourist season. The road is barely two cars wide, and yet, it has a constant flow of trucks, buses and campervans. With the inevitable road works that seem to be going on in France, it is very difficult to drive through the town.

But the town is so interesting. It doesn’t sit on river flats below the cliff but actually is built up the cliff itself. The roads in the old town section are about 1 small car wide only, cobblestone and extremely steep. You can walk up to the castle itself via these narrow streets, which eventually become just steps, and a good number of people attempted it. The houses of yellow stone must glow in the sunlight but we had none today. Still, they are intriguing with their pitched stone rooves with medieval ventilation openings, front doors right on the street, and irregular shapes. The roads run hither and thither without any planning, it seems. And, just like from the castle, there are stunning views over the lower houses to the river and the fields beyond.

We found our cake shop, purchased a postcard with an aerial view and wandered back for afternoon tea along the riverbank where canoeing is a popular pastime. Afternoon tea was enjoyed under our awning looking straight up to the castle – a truly wonderful sight. It would look fantastic at night if flood lit.

Tomorrow, it is off to explore more of the Dordogne as we work our way downstream from here. Great!

Wednesday 25^th May

Sine the village near Chenonceau we have seen beautiful roses in full bloom. There they were sandwiched between the gravel footpath and stone front fences in what appeared to be stony, poor soil but nevertheless, thriving. Multicoloured small bush roses were the rage in that village and provided a riot of mixed colours offsetting the bland colours od the road and stone houses. However, now we see roses everywhere, usually one colour at a time though. They climb over front doors and up the sides of homes; they fill roundabouts and garden plots.

On leaving our van for servicing at Larche this morning, the first thing we did was to photograph the huge roundabout brimming with rose bushes in a multitude of colours. It was the most colourful thing about the town, it appeared. The main square and its associated footpaths were being replaced causing a most unattractive mess. The town seemed to be nothing but hard stone and cement. However, we made our way towards the river and the Hotel de Ville (Town Hall) and discovered the really old section of Larche. (After all, we had 2 hours to fill in while they checked our cab air conditioning.) This old part of town included its church with its gold treasures inside locked in cages but unattended and many old homes down narrow twisting lanes. Occasionally, some had adorned their houses with roses or the perennial favourite, red geraniums, which improved the streetscape no end.

After buying our baguette and gateaux for the day we made our way back to the Fiat / Iveco dealer. We eventually got our van back and the bill! They charged us 238E for a new car under warrantee. They claimed the warrantee does not cover optional extras and air con in the cab is an optional extra. It had to be fixed and, as far as we were concerned, the sooner the better. McRent told us if we had any problems with the van not to ring them but go to Fiat. Naturally, we paid the bill and will have to sort it out with McRent when we return the van. The problem was that there was no refrigerant in the system, not just a blown fuse as we had hoped. Another case of McRent’s failure to prepare the vehicle properly, we suspect. Anyway, we had it on as we left and soon had to turn it off as it was too cold. Now, we are hoping there isn’t a leak in the system and we end up once again with no gas in it. It is very hard to check if the system was check for leaks when you don’t speak the language and communication is minimal.

We made our way west and then south towards Sarlat. At the last camping ground the owner recommended several villages to see so we stopped and had lunch at one of them – St Genies. At last, a truly fabulous French village. I could easily have bought 3 or 4 of the homes there. The first was a new home besides the parking / picnic / play area just off the road. It had large windows overlooking the park and the little creek that ran between them. The best one for sun and light (a lack of these seems to be a problem with many French houses - they have only a few small windows.) was on a corner but above a cellar and garage (plenty of room for David and his trains!). It had a south facing terrace as well as a northern one behind it providing great outdoor eating areas in summer and winter. The windows were of a good size and all faced south catching the sun but with shutters for summer protection. While no one could look into your home, it was on the corner of the two main roads in the village so I guess it won’t do as a holiday home, after all. I believe in summer around here, the crowds are huge.

Further up the road into the village and therefore fractionally quieter was the house attached to the Mairie (The Mayor’s Office). It was three storeys high and had a front verandah, exposed to the street but two lower garden terraces giving it a lot more land than my initial favourite. Still, I don’t suppose the mayor will sell it to us.

The last house was down a side street, not far from the Church and off a triangular plaza with two other good houses. What made it stand out was, not only its southern orientation, but the fabulous red climbing rose running riot up and over the front door. I can’t say I was quite as tempted with this one as there was no way of ascertaining if any land or outdoor space came with it.

Of course, even if you wanted to, there was no one to ask. From 12:30 to 2pm everything except a restaurant and a tabacc closed down. The place was as quiet as a mouse. It was so quiet that two local dogs befriended us and accompanied us back to our van. However, it is such a pretty and well-maintained village that, in the height of the tourist season, it must be dreadfully busy.  Now, you never buy in a tourist area, so we reluctantly left but not before inspecting the church and the chapel on the hill.

The church is right next to the small chateau which is now a hotel and restaurant. It has an attractive round tower and the church has a square one. Inside the church was nothing of interest and they had attempted to counteract the dark drabness with many flower arrangements. Unfortunately, the most common was the heavily scented white privet, which I find oppressive.

Up a steep hill, the chapel, now in poor shape, contains remnants of 14thC frescoes. Some, like St George slaying the dragon, and the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist were still quite visible but it would be nice if someday they could repaint the frescoes and restore the chapel. They are obviously trying as new copper downpipes have been installed.

We managed to enter our van without the two dogs stowing away and headed across country down the river valley of the Chironde. This flatter route brought us a few bike riders, which we have not seen since the Somme area, and flat areas beside the river where corn seems to be the most common crop at this time of year. In fact, wherever farmers can find a piece of flat land, they clear and plough it. While that is not unusual, they actually plough in furrows that replicate the curve in the road!

On the outskirts of Sarlat, we came across a huge shopping complex of the American style and pulled in. We hoped to find a cotton blanket for David in the warmer weather, a DVD burner (the one on his computer refuses to work still)), a small packet of frozen peas and some bicarb soda which I use to remove excess soap powder (with white vinegar) when washing. We failed on all accounts! It is a huge supermarket, the biggest we have seen but still no success. However, we have purchased a water filter jug as I am sick of not enjoying a cup of tea. The tea, even some of the bottled water, tastes terrible. (I have reverted to Perrier.) The French are often seen buying six-packs of huge bottles of water. Interestingly, Europeans seem to buy Coke basically in bottles. The largest being a six-pack of 1.5l bottles. Today, for the first time, we have come across boxed cans of Coke – 10 cans per box! Our son Leigh would go crazy here unable to buy 24 and 36 packs. They don’t’ have the great specials we have at home either.

We tried to buy some cheap diesel here too. There are unmanned stations at some supermarkets and you pay on your credit card. David investigated it and we tried our card but it would not accept a Visa Travel Card. It is a shame as diesel at 1.285 per litre is the cheapest we have seen so far.

Our next plan was also a little frustrated. We were looking for a camping ground just out of Sarlat that David had chosen. It is 4-star with a pool and within walking distance to the old town, which is of considerable historical interest. However, to get to it was a narrow twisting drive through the centre of town – quite stressful. Apparently, the old town area is closed to all cars from June to Sept because of the traffic. It was now 2.30pm so the whole town was buzzing and the traffic heavy. Eventually, without really getting lost, we found the signs to the park and followed them up a rather steep, narrow hill road! With cars at times parked on one side and no footpath, meeting on-coming traffic is a juggle but the locals seem used to it and people must take bigger motor homes (called camping cars here) and caravans up to the camping ground. Then, inside the park, the hill continues. Naturally, the best, level sites are on terraces at the top of the hill. They are level and next to the second amenities block. We hoped it would be okay and selected a site. I could not imagine going down and then uphill every time I used the amenities.

We have a shady site here and decided to sit and enjoy it. We could not face the walk downhill and the struggle back up in the heat to see some of the town this afternoon. Perhaps, after a swim, we will head into town and walk back in the cool of the evening. So I have started the blog now.

Later:

Well, the swim was a delight. They have three pools here and one is heated and indoors so the temperature was just right and there is no need for sunscreen. In fact, here and at the last camping area, sun tan lotion is forbidden! Here, on entering you are asked to “sweep your feet” in the English translation. (All sites now seem to be very used to English speaking tourists and there are only occasional Dutch or Germans around.) Seeing there was no broom around, we just wiped our feet on the mat. Then, you have to take your shoes off. No shoes are allowed near the pool surrounds. This must burn your feet in summer around the outdoor pool. Then, you are supposed to take a cold shower, which most avoid. However, we really enjoyed a relaxing time. You aren’t slowed to swim in the indoor pool, just be at leisure! But you can still so some aquarobics.

After about half an hour, we showered off and headed back to the van where we dressed to talk into town now that it was cooling down. David chose this site as it was within walking distance of the town and the owners tell you it is only 10 minutes walk, all downhill. Well, it took 20. Then we followed the tourist route around the old town for over an hour before trudging back uphill thankful that the heat had largely gone out of the day. By this stage the locals we seated outdoors on their verandahs and in their courtyards eating dinner.

Sarlat is a medieval gem. What fun we had walking its narrow streets, poking our noses around corners, into small courtyards, the church and its cemetery and the main square in front of the Mairie. The cobblestone streets are so narrow and the cars so few that it is a journey of discovery, even with your written English guide. There was no particular building that was stunning, just the combined effect of a whole town, minus some of its original walls, that placed you in a different world. Sure, it is a tourist town, with dozens of restaurants and souvenir shops but they are not tacky. The most common souvenirs are local produce: wines, foie gras, walnuts and truffles. They use them in lots of ways including vinegar and oils, but they are not cheap. One of the nice things is that no one pressures you to come into their shop or to buy. Secondly, there were no beggars like in Reims.

I would have loved to have sat in the Place de la Liberte outside the Mairie for a drink before dinner and then eat in one of the restaurants. There were two in tiny courtyards that would have been fun. After a hot day, the atmosphere was balmy and very relaxed – so French. However, I had chicken that had to be cooked for dinner. We ate it outside our van with salad followed by a Spanish rockmelon, less than half the size of ours but very sweet.

Today, we have walked for more than 5 hours and I am exhausted. There was the 2 hour walk at Larche, two hours at Sarlat, one hour at St Genies plus supermarket shopping, swimming and driving. What a full but enjoyable day.

Tuesday 24^th May

Maxim was at the pool before breakfast. He saw David and handed him the yellow flower off a weed to give to me as a gift. As I said, cute! He is only about 3 or 4 at the most but already a French charmer.

It was off to Les Jardins du Manoir d”Eyrignac after buying the next 3 days’ supplies at the village supermarket. These gardens belong to a manor that has been in the same family for 500 years. The gardens have basically been kept as they would have been 200 years ago. It is a very French-style garden with one English ‘room’ and some Italian Renaissance gardens where pools of water are the focus. It is a topiary garden where everything is done manually, and very quietly. From the beautifully maintained entrance, to the restaurant terrace and all the various garden ‘rooms’, it was so peaceful that all you could hear were the birds. Even the gardeners, 6 full time, and 8 part-time for this time of year, work in silence with just hand tools and seem reluctant to even speak if you say “Bonjour” to them.

Of the garden rooms, three particularly struck us. First was the hornbeam alley. Hornbeam is a deciduous shrub, which is pruned in an avenue of a repeated, but unusual shape. Each hornbeam consists of a large square and a lower smaller square slightly offset and joined by a sweeping curve. Between each hornbeam is a cylindrical yew, which alternates two shades of green. Maintaining the hornbeams is a challenging task for the gardeners as they grow quickly and are pruned 4 or 5 times a year. The gardeners were doing the May prune as we watched. It is the first prune of the year and three specialised trimmers join 5 gardeners for the task.

The second was the enchanted garden. It runs form the beautiful stone manor that the family still live in during the opening season of the garden, up a slight slope and it is an optical illusion. From the lower end of the Manor House the garden looks long but from the higher end the Manor looks much closer. It is because the pyramid shaped topiaries get shorter as they reach the end away from the manor, giving perspective and this is heightened by two angled yew hedges one on each side that are not parallel.

However, the garden room that took our breath away was the White Garden. Being a topiary garden, there is almost no colour except for white but in this ‘room’ the white almost dominates. There are white dahlias, New Guinea impatiens, roses, hydrangeas and petunias. The garden is basically a sunken cross, entered from stairs at the garden side and culminating in a red Chinese pergola backed by stunning views of the Perigord countryside. The fences are actually draped garlands of white climbing roses – stunningly in full flower. In the centre of the cross is a circular fountain with 4 large frogs sprouting water into the centre.

The garden was too peaceful to leave and the popular restaurant terrace seemed to prove that the food would be fine too. So we dined on the terrace, under the shade of white (of course) umbrellas and enjoyed the soft breeze. The food did prove to be good, using mainly local produce. We had a green salad embellished with froi gras, which was the first time we had eaten this cruel dish (we found it very fatty and rich), thinly sliced ham, duck (I think), walnuts and warmed goat’s cheese. Washed down with a local house white and accompanied by chewy but open, thick-crusted bread, it was very filling. Overall, it was a very pleasant morning and much needed. We have been too much on the go.

Our plan for the afternoon was to wander around the village near the camping ground, at Salignac-Eyvigues. On our way in yesterday, we had driven past a castle and an old church but there proved to be a whole cluster of old stone houses and narrow streets with some of the houses dating back to the 13thC. Unfortunately, the castle was closed for renovation although there did not seem to be anything happening there. The church, however, was open and proved to be a simple structure of plain rib vaulting but its entrance was most unusual. First, you went down a few steps into a porch under the bell tower (which chimes the hour, twice – once more for the dummies!) to reach the front door, then, once inside, you find yourself on a semi-circular podium with half a dozen or more steps down into the nave. From the podium, you can see almost the whole church in one sweep since there were no side aisles with columns to obstruct your view.

Returning to the camping ground, down its narrow tree-lined and twisting driveway, we relaxed in the shade, read books we had swapped at the English people’s site near Chenonceau. It has, so far, been the only site we have come across with a swap library. I chose another John Grisham book, which turned out to be one I read in American but I enjoyed reading it again. After my last book, by Colleen McCullough (Too many murders), it is enjoyable to read a book without the sexual deviancy and foul language, even if it was about death row. I don’t think I will ever read another of hers. David has another spy drama to read. I don’t always read or finish his books, but I guess I’ll try when I have enough time.

British people moved in beside us as we were reading. The wife has a nephew – a bone specialist in an Adelaide hospital. It’s a small world. Her grandson is planning to visit Australia and she thinks, from TV, that we all live in huge homes with open-plan living and that housing in Australia is cheap! She wanted us to smuggle her back home and said she would immigrate if she were 30 years younger. What you can get for A$600,000 around this delightful neck of the woods is astounding but it isn’t really comparing apples with apples as this is hardly a major world city like Sydney.

We have worked out why van here can be pulled by very small cars. In fact, the other day we saw a VW Beetle pulling a 12’ plus van! Apparently, not only are they light-weight in construction but there apparently aren’t waste and fresh water tanks. A water container is filled up on site and pump is attached that connects to a tap in the van. This explains why people are always running to the dishwashing tubs in the amenities to do their washing up. They pile their dirty dishes into a plastic washing up basin, grab the detergent and walk in procession past our van. Seems strange to us? They have sinks in the vans but don’t use them.

What we haven’t really worked out is why all the caravan parks we have stayed in insist on having such narrow, often sharply twisting, approaches. We would hate to have to drive our car and caravan down most of them. Often, there doesn’t seem to be any reason why the roads could not be widened, or at least the entrance off the main road so you can make an easy swing into the driveway.

Tonight is an early night for us as we need to get to Larche (a half hour’s drive away) between 8 and 9 to have the van looked at. Basically, we take about 2 hours to get up and on the road each morning but I can save time tomorrow by not doing any hand washing.

Monday 23^rd May

The day started and finished with the sounds of the cuckoo! Interestingly, in France, not Germany where cuckoo clocks are so common in tourist souvenir shops.

We hadn’t ordered bread for lunch since David was not told when we registered that bread was available. So I asked directions to the nearest supermarket from the English wife of the owner and we drove to the nearest village to procure provisions including bread. Her directions seemed simple until we got to the village square. What looked like a market was shut and we drove on until we realised that the closed market was in fact the only one she could have been talking about. Why direct us to the local market on a Monday when it is closed and the sign outside clearly states that it is closed on a Monday, every Monday? I guess she forgets what day of the week it is like I do.

Our day was largely spent travelling the motorways and village roads into the Perigord Noir region. We had a couple of errors getting on and off the motorways, which resulted from our out of date maps (new motorway exits having been built since 2008) and the sudden lack of exit numbers. When we reached the end of our motorway travels we passed exit 48 and wanted exit 50. No exit number appeared but it did state the destination we wanted; we ended up back on another motorway, this time with a toll.

Anyway, the flat landscape we had travelled through since south of Paris, gave way to heavily wooded hills just north of Limoges. What an attractive area! We eventually got going in the right direction and found Larche. There is a Fiat / Iveco dealer there and, despite his poor English, we managed to make an appointment to have him check out the cab air con which still isn’t working. We suspect a fuse (plomb) problem and that will be easily fixed but we have to go back on Wednesday. This means 2 nights here at Salignac-Eyvigues.

This isn’t a problem as the area is so scenic and we drove quickly here as it was getting late. Leaving Larche, you climb steeply up and out of a basin. We were unable to find any lookout areas to take photos from, unfortunately. The villages are most attractive, some with small castles and keeps and the farmhouses are what you imagine a French farmhouse should look like. They are substantial stone buildings clustered together and well maintained. It is a far cry here from the neglected, small and poor farmhouses and village houses of the area around Reims.

Tomorrow, we will have to find a supermarket, as we were only able to pick up isolated items from food stores on the motorways today. No gateaux today, the German wine is finished and the baguette was not up to the usual standard. But there is a supermarket in the village near our campsite.

We have chosen this campsite as it is close to the gardens of the Manor D’Eyrignac. They are famous for their topiary. The campsite looks most attractive nestled into the side of a hill with a substantial home / office, restaurant (not open this early in the season) and swimming pool just inside the gate. They have a washing machine and dryer that cost 7E to use both so I have been able to wash and dry the sheets.

While the washing machine was doing its thing, we jumped into our swimmers and headed for the cool pool. It had been quite a warm day and there was not a breathe of air here. Besides, we needed some exercise after sitting in the van all day. Maxim, a little French boy, and his parents were already at the pool but not in it. Maxim agreed with me that, on dipping my feet into the water, it was “très froid”. Freezing, actually. But we forced ourselves in for about 20 minutes and cooled down very quickly and very nicely, drying off in the warm sun. We also got into conversation with the family although their English was limited. It was, at least, better than our French. They are from Orleans with her grandmother living 2km away. Maxim is cute, but may turn out to be very spoilt; he’s an only child.

Having finally learnt our lesson, we headed for the showers straight from the pool. It is a supposedly a 3 star site although the restaurant isn’t open, and there is no shop nor bread deliveries. However, we were given a discount for the first night based on our late arrival even though we got here just after 4:30pm, not what we would call late, at all, and the fees here are most reasonable. The showers and toilets are both communal in the sense that you can be sitting or showering a cubicle right next to a person of the opposite sex and the urinal is on open display right outside the joint toilet cubicles. However, there is no toilet paper at all! No dispenser even exists, so we guess you have to take your own roll with you. How can it be a 3 star site and not even give you toilet paper – perhaps it is the free showers? Still, I am looking forward to 2 nights in the one spot, for a change. Hopefully, we will have time to explore the village too.

Sunday 22^nd May

I am sitting in the bar of the camping ground with David so he can access the Internet here. It’s cheap only 1E an hour so hopefully he can update the blog and we can do emails. The wine here is out of a cask! In France! Last night at the lovely 4-star site, we had free Internet but it was so slow and they closed it down at night before we could use it.

That site had a restaurant, bar, tennis court, mini-golf, water slides, swimming pools, buggies and bikes for hire etc. It was wonderful to have an unlimited shower with no timer button and where you can adjust the temperature and get a truly hot shower. We were able to buy our baguette for lunch before we left there, which was really handy, as it is Sunday and, if shops open for bread sales, it isn’t for long and you have to be in the know.

This site is 3 stars and run by a British couple. It is on the banks of the Cher River very close to the chateau of Chenenceau, which was our second chateau of the day. The ground is very dry here, almost like being in Australia! The river is a good 60cm below the normal level. We overheard a comment that 44 departments in France have been declared as drought areas. Sounds familiar! The facilities again reflect the unusual French style. You enter through a common door (males and females) and a corridor leads off to the right for men and the left for women. Showers / toilets and basins are all behind individual doors. The French don’t seem to worry if women see into male urinals or even if men urinate out in the open (eg along roadsides) but they must wash their face and teeth behind locked doors! There is only one toilet paper dispenser in the middle for both sexes to grab from as they pass to the loos. But the showers are unlimited and I am too tired to wash tonight although here we have spied our first clothesline – a collapsible Hills Hoist type. English is naturally spoken here and it was last night too. There are far more English tourists around so we expect to have fewer language problems.

Getting to a chateau early is critical, we have discovered. By 11am they are crowded and you are squashed into rooms making it very difficult to take photos. By 4.30pm this afternoon we were thoroughly sick of crowds. While the chateaus we saw were very worthwhile, different and interesting, viewing them with hundreds of others is not pleasurable.

Chambord, our first stop, is a major commercial operation. The chateau is situated in 5440 hectares of walled park, which was originally forest and swamp. It is the largest area of walled parkland in Europe. You drive at 70kph for some distance before reaching the parking area, pay of course. Then you walk to the ticket office, passed old buildings now housing food and souvenir shops before you catch a glimpse of the chateau. You actually approach it from the side rear so that it is not what you actually expect from photographs. Surprisingly, there was no scaffolding, a rarity. You not only pay for parking, to enter but also to obtain an English audio guide. It was excellent and you really need it as you just wander through the site at will.

Basically, Chambord is a keep with 2 wings added: one a chapel wing and the other a royal wing. These two wings are then joined by a wall of rooms so that a large courtyard is formed in front of the keep. You enter through this wall at the centre front. I was disappointed to see that there were no gardens, just mown grass and weeds stretching in all directions around the castle. Avenues of small trees did, however, provide some relief. But, as it turned out, there never were any major gardens here. Chambord was the hunting lodge of Francois (Francis) 1 initially, then Henry 11 had a go at it and finally, Louis XIV (the Sun King of Versailles fame) embellished it more until Versailles was built and took all his attention. The impressive, heavily ornate exterior was meant to wow his nobles and privileged foreign dignitaries who didn’t usually get to stay there as inside it is strangely configured. Many were billeted in the nearby village.

Basically, the keep consisted of 4 towers joined together by a central cross-shaped room through which the grand double staircase spiralled under a roof light well. The only liveable rooms were in the 4 towers. To go from room to room, you had to go back into the central room which was kept warm by 8 huge open fireplaces – although apparently, not very successfully. So basically, there were only 4 liveable rooms on each of the 3 floors, each with a small room or two off it for clothes, servants or washing. Eventually, King Francis moved his rooms to the royal wing. Louis XIV lived in the keep when he was at the chateau and he had two of the towers joined together by filling in one arm of the cross. This way his bedroom was attached to that of his Queen to form the State Apartments.

The chapel was very plain and unfinished although the insignia of the three kings is there.

From the fourth floor you can go out onto the terraces between the ornate towers that are cream stone inlaid with what looks like black marble. All told, it is an amazing building, huge and showing a great waste of internal space.

From Chambord, we drove to Chenonceau chateau. Mostly, it was fairly straight forward as it was well signposted except for two occasions. One were we detoured off the road as road works were being done for a short distance ahead. But after the first detour sign, no further directions were given. Quickly, David realised that we should have just driven around the block, so to speak, and we backtracked. Many of the chateaux, even lesser ones, are signposted for miles around. So we just followed the signs.

Chenonceau is typically photographed as straddling the River Cher, which passes underneath it via several arches. Yet, when you arrive by road, you approach it via a long avenue of tall trees – not nearly as impressive or attractive. Chenonceau has a beautiful simplicity about it, transitional between Gothic and Renaissance, and because several ladies were endowed with it, including Diane de Poitiers and then Catherine de Medici, the lover and wife of Henry II. The original chateau / fortress / mill was burnt down or demolished, except for the tower, which remains. Francis 1’s treasurer and his wife conspired to get the land and then began building the chateau with the motto, “If I get to the end of this construction job, I will be remembered”! (in Latin, naturally) However, he fell foul of the king and lost the castle to the king’s mistress. You get to visit numerous rooms on three levels, all well furnished and elaborate. It is beautifully maintained and we loved the large to huge fresh flower arrangements in everyone of the main rooms. It is a distinct contrast to Chambord, as one should expect.

One other thing surprised us. The main rooms are actually on the front on the land and the back extension built over the river appears to be mainly a gallery that takes up one whole floor. It was used by the Resistance in WWII to escape the Germans. However, the extension has 3 levels and we were only allowed into one.

The kitchen, which was actually a collection of rooms on the lower level, and included the staff dining room, was particularly interesting and beautifully laid out and lit.

Of the two, Chenonceau was the more interesting with its full furnishings but also more crowded and so not as pleasurable. It was also partially obscured by scaffolding as they are replacing some of the stones. It was more expensive to enter than Chambord but you didn’t have to pay for parking, which was a nice change.

Chenonceau also has two formal gardens lacking at Chambord. There is a large sunken one to the left after the avenue of trees. It is named after Diane de Poitiers and is divided into 8 triangles with a simple flower spurt in the middle. The brick walls around the edge are smothered in heavily flowering Iceberg roses which was stunning and topped with large urns of flowers but the flower beds in the triangles were passed their best and the summer hibiscus were not yet in flower.  The walls protect the garden from floods but there was no danger of that at present. The water level in the river was very low and you could see a lot of green weed and scum in the river. The moats had very little water in them making them most unattractive. Catherine de Medici’s garden is smaller and to the right of the main avenue. It was spoilt by restrictive fences caused by the renovation work but had a purple and white theme of lavender, just starting to bloom, and mauve pansies. Both gardens continued the flower theme in the castle rooms.

By the time we got to our nearby campsite, we were quite exhausted and resolved, after buying another ice cream as we left the chateau, to stick to commercial ice creams like France’s version of Streets. Their ice cream here is too soft, just like in Germany.

For the last 2 evenings, we have eaten outside on our collapsible chairs, as the weather has been most mild. While we ate this evening, three hot air balloons took off from just near our campground. One nearly didn’t make a successful take off. It had to keep thrusting its noisy burners to get above the approaching trees. It could have proved most difficult, as there is the town, the railway line and the river here – hardly good landing ground.

David had the shower moment tonight. We must be slow learners. Yesterday we showered in the half dark as only 1 of the 7 lights in the amenities were working. Then tonight David had the lights go out on him as he was finishing his shower. There is a motion detector in the entry area but once you disappear into a cubicle, you have about five minutes until the motion detector thinks there is no one about and turns off the lights. No one came in while he was showering, hence the lights just went out! When I went for a shower next, a little French girl and her mum were in the showers. The little girl was fascinated with me for some strange reason following at my heels until I reached my shower. When I tempted to talk to her in English, the fascination vanished and she fled back to mum. I had nearly finished my shower by the time they left so once I was half dressed, I ventured outside my cubicle and reactivated the motion detector.

Saturday 21^st May

We had not finished with my grandfather’s time in northern France just yet. Today, we were up in the heavy fog and off to Corbie. Corbie was basically behind the allied lines and used as an R& R and evacuation point for soldiers. I guess, when my grandfather was wounded, he would have been sent there before being repatriated to England where he seems to have remained until his return to Australia and discharge. Anyway, Corbie is described as a town popular with Australian servicemen and you can see why. It has some interesting and substantial buildings, most especially the Hotel de Ville (Town Hall). We enjoyed a walk around the main area, purchased our Tradgrain small bagette for lunch and two desserts for after dinner.

For my family, however, the most interesting thing to note is that on his return to Australia, my grandfather became a soldier settler on land near Leeton, NSW and named his property Corbie Hill. We did not understand the full significance of “Corbie Hill” however until we went to the Australian Memorial at Villers Bretonneux. The memorial is on ‘Hill 104’ where the Australians finally defeated the Germans in what was the turning point of the long war. From this substantial hill, the view is magnificent. You can see Corbie 2 miles to the north and the Villers Bretonneux village 1 mile to the south.

The memorial is much more substantial than the obelisk at Pozieres which was a bit of a disappointment in comparison. Here the spacious site is not only beautifully maintained, but is laid out with reference to the layout of a Christian church except that it faces west, not east – a sign of death rather than the life of the rising eastern sun. From the road, you walk up some wide steps, around an altar-like slab proclaiming that the names of the soldiers will never be forgotten, and between two stone pavilions. These surprised us, as we had never seen them on Anzac Day coverage of the ceremonies here on TV. You then walk uphill along a wide central aisle with the graves on either side, like the nave of a church. Even though it is the Australian Memorial, there are plenty of Canadians and British soldiers buried here. There is a large stone cross in the middle on which a metal sword is attached – symbolic, I guess, of God and war, church and state? At the end of the graves, the large parade ground is situated. This is where the Anzac ceremonies and the original opening of the memorial by George V1 in 1938 took place. It is surrounded by a U-shaped structure. First, at the end of the arms of the U are two pavilions each with a draped Australian flag on each of it four corners. Walls go east and then turn at right angles until the two walls join in the centre at a large tower. The walls are inscribed with the names of about 11,000 Australian soldiers whose remains and or gravesites are lost and above them the major battles the Australians participated in starting with the Somme. Originally, when buried, the names were probably written on paper and nailed to small timber crosses. But in subsequent fighting, and over time, the paper was lost and sometimes even the crosses. At the entrance to the tower, you have a grand view back down the hill, through the graves and front pavilions and across green agricultural land to the west. Fortunately, the tower was open and we were able to climb the 144+ steps to the look out at the top. It is sometimes closed in inclement weather as rain enters the tower making it somewhat dangerous. There is a small walkway all around the tower and a cupola covering a circular stone with directional arrows and distances to major battle sites and places including Canberra (in both directions!) and Gallipoli.

There were other Australians there including two sisters from Rockhampton near where my sister lives. They have a great uncle buried at VB. It’s a small world. Anyway, it is pleasing to see that the sacrifice of so many young Australian has not been neglected or forgotten. They came so far to die for people they had never met. Several headstones are inscribed with words such as “They died for humanity” and “Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for others”.

We drove to the Victoria School in VB, a school built after WW1 by donations from the state of Victoria as an expression of the ties between Australia and France. There we were able to buy an expensive little Aussi flag for 5E, which we have now proudly standing up in the front of our van. We hope the great profit they made on it will be put to good use for the children.

On the outskirts of VB, we found a very large supermarket, about the largest we have seen but we only needed some decent fresh fruit and green vegies which we purchased before heading onto the motorway towards the Loire, via, unfortunately the outskirts of Paris.

I say ‘unfortunately’ because we were caught up in two traffic jams and crawled for 40 minutes at one stage on Paris’s ring road with only the horrible graffiti all over the concrete walls of the motorway edges and the risky driving by lunatic Frenchmen to pass the time. We have never seen so much graffiti anywhere. Sometimes it was between 2 and 3 metres high and on anything that could be reached, even the backs of huge signs straddling the motorway. It was kilometre after kilometre and an eyesore. Not that the buildings of Paris’ outskirts were attractive enough to be spoilt by the graffiti, - they weren’t. At one stage, a group of cars sped up on the outside shoulder of the road, blaring their horns and with their emergency flashers blinking. The drivers were of Middle Eastern origin and, I guess from their dress, anxious to get to a wedding or funeral. A few Germans joined in although it did not seem to get them far as we caught up with them a couple of more times, unfortunately, before they reached their exit.

The motorway journey however was easy enough. We just followed the signs and road numbers. David had written out the varying numbers as we switched from one motorway to the next and so on until we reached Orleans but it wasn’t necessary. Right from before Charles de Gaulle Airport there were signs for the A10 to Bordeaux and Nantes, and Bordeaux and Orleans, and we just had to make sure we were in the right lane although changing lanes was not a problem. We are bigger than the cars. French drivers, however, seem reluctant to allow merging traffic into their lanes!

The day’s two motorway sections (pre and post Paris) cost us 34.50E in tolls. This is on top of the toll we paid to from the Luxembourg border to Rheims, which was 20.10E. Most French motorways are not free. But they get us quickly from point A to B, which is our objective this trip as we are concentrating on regions rather than trying to see everything. On starting a journey you go through tollgates and take a ticket. As you leave the motorway, you pass through another set of tollgates off on a side ramp where you pay the toll for the distance travelled by cash or card. It usually means David has to get out of the vehicle to do it and it takes a minute or two for him to do it but fortunately, we have not had traffic behind us to hold them up.

Our campsite for tonight is a 4 star site in the grounds of a small chateau near the banks of the Loire River and not far from the famous chateau of Chambord where we hope to go tomorrow. We did not have this chateau on our itinerary but we are a couple of days ahead of we thought we would be so it is an opportunity to see at least 2 chateaux rather than 1. We saw several on our last trip through here in 1977.

The campsite is the most expensive we have stayed at but very nice. It costs 33E a night. That includes power at 10 amps. In French sites, you can choose the amps you want of electricity and pay accordingly. However, I thought at first there must have been a problem as it took what seemed like forever to get us registered. The man in reception was unbelievable slow. However, we have a lovely shaded, level, grassed site surrounded by a hedge, water, power and are close to the amenities which, hurray, contain 2 washing machines and a dryer. That’s the good news. The bad news is that a load of washing in the top loader cost 6E (about $9A) just to wash the towels and some pjs. Then it was 3E to dry them! I still need to do the sheets and there are a few items of clothing that would be easier to wash in a machine than by hand but David isn’t keen for us to hang around in the morning. He would like to do Chambord and Chenonceau chateaux in one day! This site would be a good base to see some of the Loire but Chenonceau is too far away to come back here afterwards. On the other hand, we have free, but slow, internet connection which is worth a bit and makes the site cheaper than first appears.

This afternoon, it really warmed up and we were very hot in the clothes we started out in in the fog of Albert. So we enjoyed getting changed into shorts and short sleeves when we got here and eating dinner etc outside until the need to charge this computer battery forced me indoors. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for a swim in the several swimming pools here. From here you can bike ride, canoe on the river, walk and visit chateaux and wineries so it is a real holiday spot. Accordingly, there are on site cabins and set up tents and even 4 tree houses in large trees at the rear of the grounds!

Friday 20^th May

Today was a special day. My grandfather was wounded at the battle for the village of Hermies on 9^th April, 1917 in an action that later resulted in a VC being awarded to a fellow sergeant of his platoon, Kenny, who ran, under supporting gunfire, across 100 yards to blow up a machine gun placement that had his group pinned down. It was just one of the Battles of the Somme. So we started the day, in rain and mist, much like we had done over 30 years ago when we visited the northwest Somme between Abbeville and Amiens. This time, however, we were much better informed about the actions of the 2^nd Battalion AIF as a result of reading the Battalion history and research done by my brother and David.

So we began at Hermies, a rather pleasant village that was virtually destroyed during the period 1916-1918 when the Allies held it twice and the Germans twice. We traced the path of the Australian troops from the north-west through an arm of the village and walked down into a region that held a chalk pit. We found traces of chalk and a hole dug in it. (Someone doing some archaeology, perhaps?) Then we walked up the road, that had become sunken by generations of surrounding agricultural activity, and found three trees still growing in an area that was described by the history as having three trees and a German machine gun placement on the inner curve of this road in a sand pit; we found some sandy soil and a hole dug there, too. It was the three trees that had shown the platoon they were in the right place on their dodgy map. Later, at the Mairie (The Town Hall) we spoke to a couple of townspeople, one of whom had lived there all his life, and through the interpretation of the other, and finger pointing at the map, agreed that that was indeed where the German machinegun placement had been.

The road is now basically a track so we had left our car to walk down it and were soon joined by an elderly Frenchman who looked at the trees, then us, then the trees, then us and so on until I tried to explain in my limited French that “mon grand-pere” shot - gesticulations & “bang” – pointed to the far field and tried to show him the year by drawing it in the air. I said we were Australian, in French, and he nodded and walked off, obviously satisfied that we were not about to vandalise the crops!

On our way back to the van, we decided to ask an older man, who arrived to do some work in a yard, where the small cemetery was that was also mentioned in the battalion’s history of this battle. However, it was far too difficult a task as he spoke no English but, with the dictionary & my French, he did direct us to the war cemeteries where we found headstones for about 44 Australians of 2^nd Battalion killed that same day my grandfather was wounded. When we get home, hopefully, we can find out which ones were from his platoon. We recorded all their names and wrote ours in the two visitors’ books – one for the larger cemetery on one side of the road, called Hermies Hill, and the other for the smaller cemetery on the other side of the road.

After lunch we explored the area northwest of the village where my grandfather was probably wounded. Here it was more difficult to identify any particular spot as the battalion history does not provide any specific details. He was probably wounded before the Australians broke through the German lines on the edge of the village. We will need to discuss our interpretations with my brother once we are home.

We went to the Town Hall to see if they could tell us where this small cemetery was but no one knew of its existence and perhaps it was utterly destroyed, along with most of the town, in that terrible period. Where we though the cemetery might be, in a copse of trees now in the middle of crops, turned out to be a water catchment area. However, the man that spoke English told us that his great grandfather as a child was forced to watch his father (the great great grandfather) shot by Germans when they entered the village. Germans cannot blame the Nazi indoctrination for these war crimes of WW1.

From there, we wandered through villages across the Somme. The whole area is beautifully green with young crops of different cereals, peas etc on gently rolling hillsides, dotted with closely spaced villages and too many small military cemeteries and well as local ones. Australians were buried in British cemeteries, since they fought under British command, but there are French, German, South African and even Newfoundland cemeteries. Then there are the memorials – stone obelisks – situated in fields and villages. Over 1.3 million young men killed for a few kilometres of ground because some power hungry men wanted to steal land from other countries! Such a shocking waste and crime.

We made our way to the memorial at Pozieres where we hoped to not only see the memorial to the 1^st Division AIF but also visit the shops to see if we could pick up an Australian flag in the souvenir shops to display in our van (Everyone thinks we are German because we have a German vehicle - didn’t think of that before we left home – I think Germans are still unpopular here!) but the only place that appeared to meet that description was closed.

It is frustrating that everything, except larger supermarkets (which are rare in small villages), closes down between 12:30 and about 2pm – we cannot get used to it. On top of this, some shops, like a patisserie in Hermies, seem to stay closed after lunch on Fridays. This meant no cakes or pastries for dessert today! Other places only open for a few days a week, as well as closing for lunch. What is more, most villages seem deserted. If it weren’t for cars parked along and on footpaths, you would think them ghost towns. At least, however, today we have seen more attractive and better-kept ones. They have had newer buildings, some new homes (but definitely no M^CMansions) , some walls that have seen recent paint and window boxes of flowers that brighten the streetscape. Obviously, this region is wealthier and appears more houseproud than the Champagne region.

Today we stocked up on food to last us over the weekend at the village of Masnieres. It was a reasonably sized supermarket but the fruit and vegetables were very poor and far from fresh. Many of the apples were squishy to touch and / or beginning to wrinkle and the zucchini had spots of decay already showing on the skin. Zucchini appears to be the main green vegetable in Nth France along with cucumbers and the occasional broccoli. I have seen beans, large flat ones only about twice so far this trip and the sign at Masnieres called them haricot beans. We have seen a few fruit and vegie shops in villages but never anywhere near where we can get parking for the van, unfortunately.

From Hermies, we drove through the villages of Bertincourt, Haplincourt, Villers-au-Flos, Le Transloy, Leoboeufs, Ginchy, Longueval and Bazentin on our way to Poziere. This broadly covered the area marched by my grandfather’s platoon in the days prior to his wounding. From Pozieres we drove through Contalmaison, Fricourt and Maricourt to the village of Curlu on the Somme River itself. Close to the river, the rolling hills steepen and become more wooded. It is very picturesque. In the process we travelled many narrow country roads, some little more than one car wide but there was virtually no traffic and it is only a few kilometres between each village.

From Curlu onwards, we were looking for our overnight campground but without success. Towns had signs to camping areas but often they were unattended, with barriers, or full of permanent vans. Most looked distinctly uninviting so we went on through the beautiful village of, guess what, Suzanne! It was most attractively treed as you entered and had a large stately home at the end of the street but not a lot else caught our eye as we were really focused on a campsite. From Suzanne we drove to and around Bray sur Somme, which supposedly had 3 camping grounds – none appealed or suited. So the only solution appeared to be to head for the nearest big town, Albert, where we eventually, about 5:45pm, found the municipal camping ground. Although it is down a couple of narrow streets like the ones we looked at in the previous villages, it was well-grassed with trees and caters for mainly tourists. It is not expensive here except, again for electricity, and, this time, showers. Showers were 1.5E each. It was sparsely occupied but did have a group of 8 ducks two of whom we named Gertrude and Marmaduke to keep us amused.

Now for the shower moment: We went early after our experience of showering in the half dark last night. David walked around the amenities block a couple of times before disappearing inside. It appears that there is one door for showers, that is, no separate male and female shower areas. So your privacy lasts only as long as you are behind your cubicle door! David’s recommendation was to use the disabled facilities, which would also give me more room to keep my clothes dry. The shower there was fine, although you had to keep depressing the timer button and the maximum temperature you could achieve was only warm, not hot. Here the toilet was lacking the seat it was designed for. I have not bothered to investigate the other toilets, which are a line of cubicles, behind doors, just passed the men’s urinal that is open for all to view as you walk passed it to the toilet cubicles! David informs me that there is only one dispenser for toilet paper – on the wall outside all the cubicles. You have to collect the required amount on your way in! This has reminded us of the time we were in France on our last trip. Both men and women entered the same toilet entrance in some cities then the men went in one direction and the women the opposite – very disconcerting.

French toilets do not jell, in my mind, with the view of the elegant French woman! Come to think of it, we have yet to see many of those either. Many young women in the towns seem very overweight, especially if they have children, and the older ones dress reasonably well but without what you would call Parisian style. So perhaps that is where the elegant French woman is – in Paris!

Paris is the obstacle we must negotiate around tomorrow as we head south to the Dordogne, via the Loire. We are not going to stop at Paris this trip, despite its many attractions.

Thursday 19^th May

I am very tired from today’s excursions but must keep to our routine. On arrival at an evening campground, we write up our photos into our notebooks while they are fresh in our minds. Then, after dinner, I do the blog. If you get behind, it is a real pain and you forget so much.

It took half an hour this morning to walk from our free campsite at CIS to the St Remy Basilica. I had almost had enough before we got there but I plodded along knowing we will probably never be back this way again.

The Basilica looks sad and neglected from the outside, a poor second cousin to the cathedral, sitting in a bare courtyard sprouting only the occasional weed. On its eastern entrance (the main) there is a distinct difference between the restored / new tower on the left and the dirty, battered one on the right. This church has suffered very badly from war damage, loosing almost all its internal treasures. On the other hand, it was, or still is, a monastic church of the order of St Benedict and its simplified interior suits a monastic use.

Religiously speaking, Reims seems obsessed with St Remy and the baptism of the first French King Clovis. While this happened in the Cathedral we saw yesterday, the Basilica has the tomb of St Remy who was Bishop from the age of 22 to his death at 96. Consequently a very large but simple gold candelabrum, in the form of a crown, sits over the nave in front of the altar containing 96 candles. Behind the altar is his tomb. It is a heavily carved vault of stone and enriched with 5 tall effigies of bishops on the south side and 5 nobility of the north. At the eastern end, overlooking the altar, there is a small doorway and his ornate gold coffin is inside. The well-lit space reveals a beautiful enamel depiction of his baptism of Clovis on the coffin but, unfortunately, there were no postcards to be had here and no way of getting a decent photo of the beautiful rich enamelling.

The stained glass windows here are very nice indeed but are largely found on the second and third tiers of the cathedral where monks could have roamed and chanted, I guess. Otherwise the only major feature is a list of illustrious folk who are buried there, and this goes back to 771, and interestingly, includes an Abbot Thierry in 1048 – quite a while before Australia’s Thierry.

David only walked part of the way back with me as he had to go to Tourist Information to find out how to reach the Fiat dealer. So I made the long walk back to the van, map in one hand, and a bread stick, like a skinny baguette, for lunch in the other.

Equipped with directions in French from Tourist Info, which I translated, we made our way out of Reims after lunch. The directions were fine for 95% of the time but the last section, off our maps, saw us lost. After asking for some help, we ended up at the right place only to discover that Fiat had moved to the opposite side of the city!

We gave it a miss and headed for Guise. One of David’s ancestors was named Richard Guise, and while he was not related to the Duc de Guise, who had a fortress at Guise, he may have descended from people of this town. So we were interested to see the fortress.

The trip to Guise was uneventful except that we sort of lost our way momentarily at Laon. We were not expecting, from the map, that we would enter Laon itself but we had to. It’s impressive cathedral and surrounding old town stand high on a hilltop above the present city centre but we had decided not to venture up to it.

The area we travelled through is rolling farmland with scattered villages. Some are reasonably attractive but others, especially Crecy-sur Serre were dilapidated. In this town, they were even tearing up a long section of the main street from house front door to the opposite house front door and we were forced into a detour that revealed that down the back streets, the town did not improve.

Several war cemeteries began to appear; one British and one French but they were small. Nevertheless, the sight of red poppies beside the road made them more touching.

The keep of Guise Fortress (Chateau de Guise) is visible from a couple of kilometres out of town and we found our way there using a Google map without difficulty. We parked outside the church and walked up the steep entrance drive to the drawbridge gate and into a cobblestone courtyard. We were informed that there were set tour times and the next did not depart for about 30 minutes. So we walked down the steep hill and into the town. The older section of town is situated at the bottom of the fortress and is suffering from neglect as many of the shops are closed and left to deteriorate although, when driving to the camp ground, we saw the main street down a side street and it looked more promising. In fact, from the fortress, Guise is quite a big town, not a small village as it appears from the base of the fortress.

We thought we would be the only ones on the tour, but a whole busload of elderly people arrived as we returned to the castle (cakes in hand for dessert tonight, of course). All told, there were over 30 people in our group and what a punishing tour it would have been for a lot of them. You climb further through iron gates and then up to a museum built into the walls where the cannons were kept ready to fire at invading troops. The cannons were tied to the walls to prevent damage from their severe recoil and chimneys were visible in the roof to let out the huge amounts of smoke they generated on firing. While there were few English signs, the young male guide did his best to give us a basic English version of the tour so we did not feel left out.

From the cannon rooms, we went down a very steep set of stairs with only a piece of rope to hang onto on one side. Then we walked around through arched corridors, which formed reinforcing for the walls, back up a steep flight of stairs and out into the open. Then it was off up to the keep via look out at the base of the keep. The keep is the oldest part of the castle dating from about the 11thC. Then we climbed more stairs into the keep and down to its base level. The keep has 5-6m thick walls, took a century to build and was further added to in the 16thC. The lower level could house 100 people but they slept sitting up, 8 to a bed! Apparently, lying down was not considered a good idea as dead people lay down! There was a huge fireplace, a well and a cellar for wine and, on the upper level, a chapel and food storage so they could survive a siege. Then it was down back to the entrance to the museum where a bus was waiting, via the back door, so to speak, for the old folks who really had had enough. It is not suitable for such old folk. We were then taken back to where we entered, passed temporary holding cells for people awaiting trial and down more steps into the base of what was once a 7-storey storage tower. In the bottom level, food was stored. You could see the large hooks in the ceiling for meat. The dirt had been up to the hooks but volunteers had cleaned it out by painful bucket load after bucket load. It must have bee a hard task as the 2 storage vaults are 25m long each. There are only 3 of the floors remaining of this arsenal and the task for volunteers next year is to excavate and reveal the next two floors. About 1000 volunteers each year assist in the maintenance and digging at the site and all the finds are kept and placed in the museum. This is no Eltz Castle; it is a military establishment that for the most part never housed the ducal family. It was merely to defend territory and was the last bastion before Paris itself. So there are no fine tapestries just bare brick walls and ceilings except for some carving in the lower level of the keep.

Until WW1, the castle was in perfect condition but after the war, locals decided to use the bricks and stones from the bombed castle to rebuild their own shattered homes. It then became a quarry and a place for vandals so that most of the damage was done in a very short period. The group managing the castle had to fight the local populace and mayor to buy and start restoring the castle as the locals considered it a waste of space. Future wars would be fought in the air, they argued, not on the ground. We admired the young guide’s enthusiasm but really, it needs a large injection of cash and to be restored properly. Much of the large area around the keep and behind the fortress walls is covered in weeds and what has been revealed needs good signage but there is not a lot you can do when relying on volunteers from all over the world and the cash from ticket sales and tips.

Despite feeling that France has not gone well since our visit 30-odd years ago (we may have rose-tinted memories) we are enjoying being among the French. They are friendlier in the shops, more cheerful, politer and helpful. This morning, when we discussing our various routes back to our free parking from the Basilica, a woman stopped and asked if she could help. Then, as we were going down some of the steep steps in the castle this afternoon an old lady and gentleman stood at the base of the steps and helped us down the last step as it was very deep. Never in Germany, I think!

From the castle, we made our way to the Guise camping ground, which is the best-maintained one we have stayed in. Each plot is wide enough for a caravan, car and annex side-by-side and is surrounded by small shrubs, like maples, although they are not yet well established. The grass is mown and the sites often shaded with established tress. It is also our cheapest site at just 13E. Electricity is the major component as we only paid 2E (about A$3) for the site and 3E per person. I have yet to venture into the amenities but David thinks they are clean but basic. In France, I guess that means mostly squat toilets and any sit down ones appear to have no seats, according to David. So far, we are ahead on budget for our campsites but we have yet to reach peak season and popular holiday areas.

Later:

Well, we have both now had our showers, in the semi darkness! The campground lights finally went on at 9:45pm but still no lights in the amenities and no switches to turn them on either! That’s one way to run a cheap campsite! Still, they were clean and fresh with mostly white decor and blue doors – no avocado green! I discovered that the sit down toilets were never designed to have seats anyway.