Moving Moving Moving

Every couple of days we feel the impetus to move somewhere new. Where will we go next? Decisions, decisions. It’s not what we are used to in normal life. At home there are decisions but once they are in place we rarely question them. We create a routine (shopping on Monday, walk at lunchtime, exercise class on Wednesday) and follow it for months, if not years. I think that’s one of the reasons we like travelling by motorhome, it’s harder to fall into a routine. (Except the moving constantly one!) But this trip is not about moving it’s about rest and slow travelling.

(Who lives in here?)

We moved from Saint Máre Eglise after a week. Where would we go next? Twenty minutes east? Even though the sun was shining there was a wind from the north (or the west or maybe the east) making us shiver. We consulted an app we have used for years called Campercontact. It was a game changer when we got it first because before that each year we were buying a huge catalogue of campsite locations in Europe. These books weighed at least half a kilo each and were densely packed with possibilities. But in spite of how big and heavy they were they weren’t always accurate. Sometimes we travelled hours to find one and it wasn’t open. Then we would find an open one nearby, not in the books and wondered if the books were an unnecessary crutch. We dumped the books, in a recycle bin, of course.

(That huge chateau-like building is outside our campsite and on the other side of the river)

Without the books we found that France had plenty of free overnight parking stops in small villages and towns. We did want to find nice places too though and the app made that possible. Ok not so much the app but the people who used it, ordinary people like us. Campers who stayed in the sites would leave reviews on the app. Reviews about the facilities, the price, the existence or not of a cafe, a shop, public transport, are the reception staff friendly? Do they speak English? And is it a place you would recommend? The sort of information you need to make a decision about your new (short term) home. We love reading the reviews and just like comments on social media we filter out the cranky reviewers and read between the lines. It works mostly and sometimes it doesn’t.

(There we are beside the church bells)

So here we were not pushing through France and Spain to reach Portugal. Nope not this time. This time we were going to take it slow, very slow and now it was time to move on. Denis looked up the app and taking into account the weather for the next week found a place that sounded great in the comments. We emptied our grey water (dish water) and filled our clean water and after a coffee at our favourite cafe, Castel, we pulled out of the campsite and headed south. Farther than we’d been but not very far.

(And there’s the river on the other side. Also, I brought my weights to keep up the training… holding down the tablecloth)

The sat nav said it would take 3 hours. We stopped for a break half way through at a motorway services and topped up the diesel, which was an eye watering, €2.25 per litre. By late afternoon we had arrived in the small village of Ménil on the banks of the river Mayenne. Ménil is in the Region Pays de la Loire and the Department, Mayenne. It is absolutely beautiful. The app triumphs again! We got parking in a small campsite between the river and the church (where the bell rings every hour, half hour and at other times we have not quite pinpointed.) Listening to the birds and the bells.

(A three minute walk away is a lock on the river Mayenne…)

We made a big decision last year. Up until last August we had lived in Greystones for 38 years, yes, it’s a lot isn’t it? When I did the maths and told the estate agent, I know it’s a cliche but… I didn’t know where the years had gone! I remember buying the house and bringing home our babies and their years in school and the odd crisis and the friendships but then there’s a big jump and here we are in the 21st century. So another thing that happened since we last travelled was - we decided to move house. About 45 minutes down the motorway to a small village outside Gorey, Co. Wexford. In our village there’s a supermarket, a cafe and a community hall where Denis plays pickleball every Monday night and I am learning TaiChi.

(…with red picnic tables along the walk)

That move is one of the reasons we are moving less here in France, I suppose. It’s a lot to move 38 years of stuff, the attic alone nearly broke us! Memories crowded the space with every little and big thing we picked up and with every decision to dump it or keep it. In that attic I time travelled from 1987 through the millennium and on to the covid days. I suppose it was cathartic but it was also emotional and tiring. Many times I wondered if it was worth the effort and each time I made the decision that it was and picked up another box. Within six months it was time to pick up every remaining box and create a new home with just the essentials (a bit of a pipe dream really as we have quite a few non-essentials too - more decluttering scheduled.) We have neighbours who are turning into friends and we are still only less than an hour away from our grandson and our “old” friends.

(It’s very peaceful here)

Life is good and although the move may have been difficult it was worth making that decision. I think decisions are a physical exercise for the mind… and even the small ones are good for us.