And then on Monday we arrived in the very beautiful town of Louhans and it was a market day. What could be better? Old cobblestoned streets full of market stalls… hats, dresses, aprons, cheese and rabbits, among other things. Well yes, that’s even better.
Cute rabbits for pets… I hope
On Tuesday morning we went looking for coffee and with all the market stalls gone we found the arcades – there’s 157 of them! They are covered walkways along each side of the main shopping street and they allow you to walk shaded from the sun or sheltered from the rain. There’s a lot of road works, bridge works and rebuilding going on in the town but no matter its beauty is still visible.
Cobblestone and Arcades
The official motorhome parking spot is about five minutes from the shops and cafes, beside one of the two rivers running around the town. For €4 a night plus tax motorhomes have a river view surrounded by trees with walking access to cafes and restaurants – very lovely.
Picnic Perfect
There and then we invented the habit of going for coffee each morning. It’s such a simple thing, we sit outside in the fresh air sipping coffee and watching the French people getting on with their day.
On the way back to the river we’d collect our baguette from the Boulangaire and notice how lucky we were to be here. By Friday the waitress was asking, deux café allongé? (Two Americano’s?)
After our trip to the Pont du Gard we drove to a small family run campsite near the town of Vion, beside the Rhône. On route we stopped off for lunch and were intrigued (again) with the love of picnics by the French. We want to try it too, we always do and it wouldn’t be so difficult, but it does require some prior organisation. We felt jealous walking past as we headed for the motorway services cafe.
Our view at the campsite near Vion
We are guessing their picnics are more special than traditional Irish picnics. I see no tin foil. I smell no egg sandwiches. No Fanta bottle with gone off milk in it (for the lukewarm tea.) What are they feasting on? And they don’t need picnic tables, they eat standing at their car boots. They don’t even need children, we’ve seen grown adults meeting at the car boot for lunch. Some have cool boxes, others have baskets! Willow baskets! We have tried to linger longer beside them and have a good look but the baskets… they are so distracting we don’t see the food. Oh and the neatness of the boot? Very neat.
Old path to vineyards at the campsite
Today we think we might have cracked it…. the charcuterie (you might know it as a delicatessen?) We haven’t been inside one yet because it’s a little overwhelming not knowing what everything is but the whole picnic mystery is making us brave enough to give it a try.
View of the river Rhône from the vineyard at the top of the hill along the old path
Plus, this could be the solution to eating/not eating the pictures of food on the ferry… do you remember? If we can locate a charcuterie near Cherbourg, we will not be tempted by the pictures of pancakes, white sliced pan toast and lumpy porridge. It will be worth the effort. It’s a bank holiday in France today as I write and the local charcuterie is closed but maybe tomorrow…
These little guys could be in your Côtes du Rhône 2022
On our way to the Pont du Gard on Saturday we called in to a boulangarie we had seen on our first day here, Marie Blachère Boulangeire. It’s a chain of bakeries, there’s many of them around but we packed this one because of the parking – plenty of room for us to fit in without bumping anyone. Yaa.
Our local…
By Saturday we had been there three times and the lady was beginning to recognise us. She didn’t quite understand my version of French so she always helped out by speaking a little English. I wanted an Americano but with extra hot water – no one in France wants this so it’s always more difficult to explain. Added to that the queue in every (yes, every!) boulangeire is long but moves surprisingly fast because the servers zip through the orders. Zipping through the orders does not allow for hard to understand Irish tourists. But this lady slowed down and got what I was trying to say and I got my hot water every morning.
Thank you, lovely lady and your colleague❤️
On Saturday, maybe because I was so excited about going to the Pont I forgot to buy our daily baguette but she realised I had forgotten and brought it over to me when there was a break in the queue. Then she said, that’s for you and wouldn’t take payment! Are you feeling the love? I certainly felt it.
We were here ⬆️
And at the same time I was conflicted. It’s hard to accept a gift, isn’t it? I find it hard. I wondered what should I do for her. But what can I do… just accept her kindness and feel grateful? It is something I have been thinking about during the pandemic times. I received such generosity at times when I could do nothing to repay it and I was uncomfortable. But when I got the opportunity to be generous, giving felt so good that I realised accepting is necessary. For giving to happen, accepting the gift is part of the contract. Accepting is part of human connection. It’s Give and Receive, not Give and Give.
Approaching Le Pont du Gard from the Rive Gauche (Left Bank)
We went back to the Post du Gard last Saturday and I got loads of pictures. It really is a beautiful peaceful place, in spite of all the people visiting. We arrived a little before opening time – 9.30am. The sun was shining but it wasn’t too hot. We have become experts at working out the best time of the day to do things in order to remain cool.
Pont du Gard with humans for scale
Early morning – 8am – for walking outside, but you have to get back inside before 11.30am. Mid morning for walking or sitting inside – if it’s air-conditioned or there’s a little breeze through the window. Mid-day for driving with the windows down.
Looking up at the second row arches
Mid afternoon – find shade or keep driving with the windows even further down. Late afternoon – poor you, just suck it up. Late evening for walking, in general you’ll feel better if you get a walk in now, I promise. Night time for sleeping as best you can with the windows open near a source of breeze, sea breeze is the best.
Looking down at the river Gardon from the Pont du Gard
Anyways we were there at the perfect time of the morning in this beautiful place. First stop, we went to see the museum and the best video presentation I’ve ever seen at a tourist site. Seriously. Just enough information, given in a way I could understand. Plus the photography was superb.
View from the very top and more tiny humans
I always find it very difficult to grasp big numbers when I hear them. For example, the Post du Gard is 50 meters high but really, how high is that? Well in the video they had different items pictured beside the Pont like 16 elephants standing on top of each other to help show how tall that really is. Good, right?
This door is at the very top of the Pont and leads to the water channel but it is only accessible on a special guided tour
And they had cartoon planes standing one behind the other on the top level of the Pont. I love how creatively helpful that is.
Apprentice stone masons used to chisel their names on the stones. Can you see 1905?Doesn’t this look like a pint of Guinness? It’s a picture of a picture of the inside of the water channel. The bulges on either side are limestone deposits left by the running water. The aqueduct was in use for 600 years.
You’ll have to go there and visit the cinema in the museum to see all the other creative things they did to help explain this amazing monument. I just love it.
We were still in the town of Remoullins when we realised we needed water. There is water available at this parking but it’s a bit too close to the toilet cassette empty station… if you know what I mean? I mean the tap may have been contaminated… But we had a plan, we know a place nearby with a grand tap. The place where it rained!
That’s the bridge that sings!
So we packed up and drove the 4 minute route to water. While I emptied the grey water (dirty water from washing dishes and showers) into the drain, Denis got the hose to fill up with clean water. But… there was no hose, the hose was missing. We looked everywhere, there’s not a lot of places and we always put it in the same place… but you know what it’s like when you can’t stop checking just one more place. It wasn’t anywhere.
Old church in the town
Questions:Where did we get water last? Did we leave it there? Did it fall out when I was taking out the table and chairs? Answers: Don’t know. Don’t know. Don’t know.
This is a street… for driving!
Not very useful answers. We have no idea where the hose and the many connection attachments (needed for different countries/areas) have gone. We felt the disappointment of loss… small enough loss for me but a little more upsetting for Denis. He had spent years of happy searching for those connections. He had his favourites – the metal ones. His least favourite but good in a pinch – the plastic ones. In a situation like this there is an opportunity to search for blame. As in, finding the specific person (out of two…) who might have forgotten to put the hose back after using it. It must have been our lucky day – we did not take the blame opportunity. We took the ask for help opportunity.
Le Félibre Gratien Charvet lived here…
There was a French man standing outside his motorhome at the parking and Denis went over and with his best French asked for a loan of a water hose, which was given freely. Five minutes later we had water and I had assembled a Merci pour le tuyau d’eau card. I just hope it says thank you for the water hose and I just hope it means the same thing… We will need to buy a new water hose and start rebuilding our supply of connections.
My shady spot in Remoulins
Loss can create opportunity and you can choose the opportunity you want.
Can you see the rain dripping from the open window?
We reluctantly left Béziers after two days and travelled north again for an hour past Montpellier and to motorhome parking outside the town of Remoulins. It turned out to be waaaay outside the town and there were no path and fast cars on the roads making walking perilous.
River Gardon Remoulins
We struggled to go for a walk but there was something even more beautiful, something we had missed. Something we have not been about to get a hold of since Zafra in on the west side of Spain, 32 days ago… Rain. It rained! Not for long and not very heavy but enough to remind me that rain is a good thing and I’m sorry for not appreciating it.
Cute square in Remoulins
And then it stopped and the sun came out and it’s even cooler. All is well in the world.
Next morning we moved. There was parking closer to the town with walking and cycle paths nearby. The town is very old in the old part and very busy in the new part. And there’s what I have started to call the singing bridge between our parking and the town. We went for a walk to get groceries in the morning and although the bridge has a very lovely singing voice, I do not feel at ease crossing it by foot so I went in the opposite direction for my afternoon walk.
The church seems to have a birdcage on top…
As I have repeated to you often (sorry) the afternoon is the hottest time of the day but… this is France and hundreds of years ago someone had the great idea to plant trees along the road and today I benefitted from their foresight. And the shade they provide. I know I’ve also mentioned shade a lot on this journey but I have to mention it again – shade is a precious, precious thing and trees give it unselfishly. Thank you to the trees and thank you to the planter of the trees.
The shady walk to Pont du Gard
It was 2km down that shaded road that I found a huge surprise – an aqueduct. Yes! Another one! This one was built by the Romans in the 1st century AD. I think it is magnificient. It’s called Pont du Gard, Bridge over the river Gardon. Its purpose was to bring water to the town of Nîmes, 50Km away! Those Romans were something else. It’s a UNESCO world heritage site and it’s just down the road. This France… is also something else.
Pont du Gard
P.S. We’re going to visit the Pont du Gard museum on Saturday, it’s on the other bank of the river and closer. Hopefully I’ll get better pictures.
And just like that we are in France! It is many days since Alicante and it is cloudy and a little cooler. I promise not to talk abut the heat again… unless it is absolutely necessary.
Looks like this tree is rooted in the rocks
Here’s the catch up: We left Alicante and drove for the whole of last Saturday until we reached the border town of La Jonquera, north of Barcelona. 671km. Not exactly the way we planned to travel but it was grand. We found a little restaurant up the mountains near a village called Cantallops and had a lovely meal to spend the night in their car park. It’s not recommended to park overnight on the border so this was a better choice. Sorry no pictures, we were not firing on all cylinders at that point.
Somewhere in the journey…
Denis had steak with blue cheese sauce. Cannot think of anything worse but he loved it. And I had a duck and mushroom stew from Granny’s menu (I think it means like Granny would make if she was a good cook) with bread for dipping – absolutely delicious. We also had desert, coffee ice cream for me – yum and Irish coffee for Denis (is that desert?) which he said tasted exactly like the best Irish coffee he’s ever had.
Map of the town at the motorhome park in Béziers
Next day we drove to Béziers in France. For years I have wanting to visit something that I had seen in photos but didn’t know its location. It turns out it’s here…
Paddle boarding under the canal…
We stayed in a motorhome parking site and there was a map of the town and the things to see and one of the things to see was the Pont Canal de LOrb, the Orb river canal bridge. Not a name that describes the spectacle of the Pont Canal de l’Orb. Every canal or river has a bridge but this one is a bridge with a canal in it – the Canal du Midi goes over the river on a bridge – like magic! It was opened along time ago in 1858.
Normal lock
Before the boats can go over the bridge they have to be raised up to the level of the bridge and that happens in the locks. Again, that’s normal with a canal but they have a special lock here too. Called the Fonseranes Locks, they are like a staircase for boats. More magic. You’ll have to google the Fonseranes Locks to see picture because not knowing about it before this I didn’t walk to the other side of the bridge, sorry. Anyways I was so taken by the bridge I forgot to wonder how the boats get up on it. On our side there was just one big deep lock.
Captain’s Lock House (person who operates the lock)
The Fonseranes Locks are like a staircase for boats. If you can imagine a narrow three step staircase with deep steps, very deep, the length of a canal barge deep. And high, the height of the hull of a canal boat. The boat enters the Fonseranes Locks at the ground level. The ropes are tied and the gates are closed behind. The gates in front open and the water starts filling – the boat rises… to the height of the first step. The boat then moves forward until it is above the second step and the second gate is closed. The gate in front opens, the water pours in and the boat rises above the third step and moves forward again. The gates close, the gates in front open and the water pours in again, the boat rises. Now it’s at the level of the water on the bridge that will take it over the river.
Canal di Midi at Béziers crossing the river L’Orb
That’s pretty magical, right?
Can you see the boat in the canal going over the river?
Ps I didn’t know until I was researching this to write to you that it’s called an aqueduct in English and there’s one carrying the Royal Canal over the M50 motorway in Dublin and another carrying it over the River Inny in Co. Longford and another in Co. Kildare? Are there more?
It takes a while to transition to this different way of living. To any different way of living. We’ve all had that experience over the past two years. It’s a bit different if it’s forced on you, through ill health, pandemic, war. We choose this different way of living and we packed for it and we looked forward to it and still we were dazed and stunned by it in the first few days. Then we did something we’ve never done before… we stopped, we rearranged, we walked and talked, we drank a little coffee and then we made a tiny little plan.
Yum! The bakery opens at 6.30am every day (except Lundi!)
We had landed in France at 4pm on Friday and started driving south/west towards Portugal. We were on our way to a town called Saint-Brice-en-Cogles which is north of the city of Rennes. It’s a Village Étape. These are villages near the motorways that are nice places to stop for a break, a meal, to shop or to stay over. You can see signs for them on the motorway showing the junction nearest to them. We have always liked them as unlike a lot of French towns and villages the village étape will always have a cafe/restaurant serving food and there will be plenty of parking nearby. We found the restaurant and got a delicious chicken, mushroom and wholegrain mustard pizza to takeaway. And went to bed.
Ice on the windscreen
Next morning we woke to sunshine and freezing temperatures. There was ice on the windscreen. And Denis had forgotten to bring his coat. I had brought so many books they were spilling out on the floor every time we rounded a corner. The water tank had leaked all our water overnight due to a safety “feature” (does frozen water in the pipes really need to be avoided? Yes, seemingly.) Our carbon monoxide alarm had disappeared. We also needed to buy supplies for dinner. Plus the quality of our internet connection, so far, was intermittent which was a worry as Denis need to connect with work. It was a lot for a first day.
When we started travelling one of the things that worried me most was crossing the road. How could that worry me, I learned to cross the road as a child, I’m good at it, I know how to do it right. Right? No, not in France. It’s all to do with thinking I’m right. Crossing the road is a skill we learned as children. Just look both ways and cross when the road is clear or when there’s enough distance between you and the car to walk to safety. Right?
Stop!
Wait! There’s a small important first step that we miss if we’re crossing the road in France and every other country where they drive on the right. Look Left! The cars will be coming from the left. Sure, I know this is simple. Sure, I know that you will look left…eventually. But, we believe the cars and trucks nearest to us will be coming from the right so we automatically begin walking BEFORE we get around to looking left (and spotted the car zooming towards us.) Trust me this is a worry! And it’s nothing to do with crossing the road.
I know it’s not the biggest worry, it’s small but it always reminds me that I am missing lots of other things when I think I’m right. When I believe what I learned a long time ago (or even just last week) is still true. Things change fast but we can cope if we stop and just notice… and then move on.
They sell carbon monoxide alarms here!
Our tiny plan was to search on google maps for a Decathlon – for Denis’ coat, a supermarket – for dinner, a petrol station – for diesel, a hardware shop – for the carbon monoxide alarm, a campsite – for water, laundry and a place to empty the toilet and wifi. Doing all these things is easy when you know where they are and how to get there. But what is true right now is that everything takes longer and some supermarkets have barriers that we can’t fit under and some automatic petrol stations won’t accept our credit cards and some campsites have terrible wifi.
When we just notice what is true now and work with that, rather than assuming we are doing something wrong, most things become less stressful.
We have booked the ferry to France many times over the last couple of years and we cancelled the ferry to France many times… it’s hard to believe we will be actually going this time… I’ll let you know if we do.
Tiny beginnings…
This time it seems different. Like when you don’t eat ice cream during winter and the first one on a grey St. Patrick’s Day tastes better than you remembered. I am being reminded of small towns in France, huge mountains in Spain and tiny cups of coffee in Portugal. It’s like I’m already there, it’s like up until this ferry booking I didn’t allow myself to think of what I was missing and now I can’t stop thinking.
Tiny daffodils…
But I’m also forcing myself to remember the wet days, the grey days, the boring days, the ugly towns, the tiredness, the overwhelm and the underwhelm. Because it’s all part of the journey and if my expectations are just for the beautiful and the sunny then I can add disappointment to the list of expectations!
Tiny bursts of colour…
I love this quote in Solve for Happy by Mo Gawdat.
Happiness is greater or equal to your perception of the events in your life minus your expectations of how life should be.
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