Tag: camping

First job of the day – shake our bed of all the sandy grit the Pup deposited in it during the night.

We left Tamarit Park resort under blue skies, heading back into the mountains for tonight, passing through the towns of Altafulla and Torredembarra with their multitudes of apartments and aparthotels lining the route, the beach just a couple of roads away. This was Spanish holiday resort country!

Eventually we left it all behind and headed out towards La Munia – it was another big jump to our next campsite, at least three hours of driving, but we had decided, as always, to use the smaller roads rather than dual carriageways and motorways. So it was nice to head to these little communities and drive through them and we got our rural rolling countryside back. We went through the sizeable city of Villafranca del Penedes, along its main shopping thoroughfare which was extremely pretty, lined with plane trees and opening up to a wide and elegant square, busy with people. It was really lovely and had an air of sophistication and an upmarket feeling – we nearly stopped!

We were on the look out for a small supermarket for a few bits and pieces to keep us going for the next couple of days – our new campsite was high up in the mountains and sounded quite isolated. We could of shopped at Tamarit resort, but thought we would find one en route.

We were now taking the back roads and aiming towards La Granada and La Garrofoa, with rolling hills and mountains in the distance – this was wine country with miles and miles of vineyards and their estates. Dominating our view was the Montserrat Mountains National Park, with a magnificent craggy ridge piercing the sky – we ended up circumventing it, swerving round and down into Martorell and into another world.

https://www.barcelona.de/en/barcelona-excursions-monastery-montserrat.html

We looked down on a valley smothered in urban sprawl, mainly vast industrial units and warehouses, dissected by massive dual carriageways and lorries lumbering along them. It was awful, especially surrounded by tall wooded mountainsides -it was just an incredible juxtaposition. Man’s ugly stain on such a beautiful, natural environment. To make it worse, it spread further up the valley and seemed endless – when would it end?

We finally started to climb and left the retail parks, car showrooms, warehouses et al behind as the road snaked into a deep valley. Looking at the map, the valley we had just left was an industrial tendril of outer Barcelona, but it still felt abhorrent – why in a such an area of outstanding natural beauty? We were now on the other side of the craggy mountains that we had seen earlier, spotting buildings perched high above, seemingly inaccessible. Another quick research and we discovered that it was a monastery and part of the Montserrat Mountains National Park. I managed to snap a couple of photos at 70mph on the C-55 as there was nowhere to stop and admire.

We carried on up towards Monistrol de Montserrat and onwards to Manresa, which had decided to build some awful apartment buildings right on top of a prominent hillside. The ugliness made a brief reappearance, but finally we shook it all off as we headed towards Moia, looking for a nice spot for a cuppa – being chased by big lorries on main roads had taken it out of us. Spanish roads (well this part of Spain) seem to lack lay-bys, picnic areas or even a scrappy piece of gravel where the weary traveller can have a breather – but then we saw a side road signposted Coves del Toll and we instinctively turned off. A little way down, we found a lovely spot with long distance views and we killed the engine – we had a cuppa and a bite to eat in the gorgeous sunshine (it was 25 degrees) and had a bit of a rest until the flies annoyed us and the Pup so much, that we headed off. We were definitely back in the hill and mountain country that we really appreciate and love and we got a few fantastic long distance views. Past Tona, we started to climb properly and back into serious mountain scenery and back to serious gasping. It was probably the best yet.

We drove along the BV-5301, a twisty but stunning mountain road, meeting a large coach (a bit of squeezing past) and later, a goat just wandering down the middle of the road. There were no villages or houses along this route for miles, but as we approached a sharp hairpin, the satnav told us to turn left and we started to drive down a narrow single track road. We were two kilometres from our campsite!

We were now starting to regret our decision not to get provisions from Tamarit. On our quest to find a place to stop and have a breather, we had totally forgotten to stop to top up on provisions – we had found a place in a small village, but it was shut today and that was really the last community. We had stuff to eat, but we would run out of milk and no bread for toast in the mornings – we would survive but it would all be a bit basic.

We carried on down this tiny track – a couple of times I had to get out of the Van and help Hubby round tight bends and over tiny bridges, hoping we wouldn’t meet anyone coming down as there was literally nowhere to go. We hadn’t seen any camping signs and hoped we were on the right track. And then, there it was, a little sign and a gate, and the Nova Forest Montseny campsite.

https://novaforest.es/en

To say it was remote is an understatement, but it was absolutely gorgeous. Nestling in a deep V shape valley, surrounded by wooded mountains, we found a sunny spot under dappled trees (and on grass!!!) and stared in amazement. It was fabulous. We set up home and then checked out the facilities, half expecting them to be at least rustic, but the shower rooms were modern and very clean. Later we discovered a well stocked shop (we are saved!), a little bar and found out they did pizzas too. The laundry facilities needed updating, but there was a barbecue area with microwaves and cooking utensils. This was perfect.

The Pup had a lovely time running around and tossing a spiky conker case around and as darkness fell, we wandered over to the bar area where we ate pizzas on a lovely patio with scattered chairs and tables under a string of outdoor lights, washed down with a beer and felt very happy. The owners make their own pizzas and bread on site, as well as breakfast croissants – this place was getting better and better. Despite its remoteness and isolation, it had everything that we needed – what a little gem!

It had been an interesting journey today – from a busy commercialised resort to a small private campsite high up in the mountains, and in between rolling countryside, craggy mountains, sprawling conurbation and industry, pretty towns and villages -we pretty much visited it all. We were now very tired and now curled up in our Van, feeling very lucky.

Tomorrow we would get up slowly, have a leisurely breakfast and go for a walk in the woods and then chill in this lovely little spot. Life is good.

A slow sort of morning – we’re not planning to go far today, so we can take it easy.

We drove up to Prades, about 30 minutes up the road (the satnav was wittering on about having park up and walk in over an unmade road – an obvious glitch in the matrix). It was another cool morning, but the sun was trying to shine through.

It was another nice ride through pretty countryside and we soon arriving in Prades, which looked very interesting – we parked just out of town, after limbo-ing under a height barrier and paying for a parking ticket. We walked down the main street and then turned down a little side street only to pop out into a fabulous little square.

It was full of people milling around and there was a great atmosphere- finally a little town that was buzzing and had a vibe. Lining the edge of the square, were numerous cafes, filled with people drinking coffee with friends and family. We spotted a sign for the tourist information – we’re after a map of either Catalonia or Spain so we can continue to chart our journey – and headed down there. Alas, they only had maps of the immediate area and so the search continued – these maps are being very elusive. We returned to the square and started to wander down the pretty streets, admiring the beautiful buildings. We came across a little shop that looked quite touristy and so I went inside, introducing myself with my request. The old woman behind the counter pointed at some maps, before engaging with another customer. These maps weren’t right either, so I went to ask another question. She looked at me as I took a deep breath to start talking, but just turned to a new customer and then answered the phone. Mmmm. I wasn’t impressed – I put the maps back and walked out. As my daughter would say “Rude!”

There were quite a few cyclists cycling in town, this time the lycra clad ones with streamlined bikes, going around in small groups of three or four riders. Obviously this was road bike country and these guys were heading for some exercise.

We decided it was coffee time and sat in one of the cafes overlooking the square, enjoying the sun’s warmth. We asked for two big coffees and bless him, the chap obliged – we were very happy and showed our delight, making him laugh.

Afterwards we had another wander around, enjoying the vibrancy of the town, nipping into shops to purchase wine, olive oil and cakes – we had quite an armful. We fancied lunch now so decided to nip back to the Van to drop off our wares and come back unhindered. We were gone ten minutes max, but in that time, the cafes had got even busier. We noticed that people were still just drinking and not eating in particular. A couple of places we discounted as a cool wind was whistling up a side street straight onto their outside area, another one had a cosy enclosed awning, but he was turning potential customers away and a third told us we couldn’t eat outside, only in the restaurant upstairs – but it was full. How difficult was it to get somewhere to eat.

So we sat on a bench and contemplated our options. It was coming up to 1:30 and everybody seemed to be happy just hugging a coffee or a beer. We didn’t fancy being the obvious tourists, eating in a sea of drinkers. We suddenly realised how cool the wind actually was as we sat there (the sun had disappeared behind a veil of cloud and had lost some of its heat) -and noticed everybody were in winter jackets, the cafe patrons looked distinctly hunkered. As lovely as it was, with the sun shining, the fabulous ambience and surroundings, we came to the conclusion that we didn’t want to get cold (wusses) and made an executive to head to the campsite, check in and rustle something up in the Van.

https://www.catalunya.com/en/continguts/territori/prades-2-1-431166

Prades Park campsite had a few extra facilities than your average campsite with a spa and restaurant attached. It was rather nice and we went to find our allocated pitch – it was quite a busy site with most rows full of campers. We found ours and reversed in, slightly surprised to see the motorhome opposite decorated with tombstones, skeletons and a ghost who periodically wailed. What surreal dimension had we wandered into here?

Out of the wind, the sun was quite warm and we ate lunch outside before I headed off to do some laundry. On the way there, there were various children all dressed up in Halloween costumes, all very excited and chatting away. What was happening here – Halloween was a week away, but here all the small people and some dads in ghost outfits. Crikey, were we to expect knocks on the Van door tonight as this lot went around trick and treating? All we could offer was kiwi fruit.

We eventually came to the conclusion that the campsite must host a Halloween themed weekend, as a little while later, a little road train came tootling through playing music followed by most of the ghouls, skeletons, witches and other ghostly bodies I had seen earlier. They then headed off around the corner to the pool area, where they had a little party. Some of the guests had also decorated their holiday homes with pumpkins, cobwebs and tombstones and with everyone milling around, we wondered if there was a “best decorated holiday home” competition going on too. Whatever it was, it livened up the campsite with everyone wandering around.

We spent the afternoon and early evening relaxing, making periodic dashes to the see how the laundry was doing, checking out the little supermarket (very well stocked) and the on site restaurant. As darkness fell, the motorhome opposite to us, lit up their pitch with lights making their Halloween decorations glow and even more spooky, the eyes of the wailing ghoul glowed red. It was quite an attraction and drew quite a few people to admire. Luckily, none of them knocked on our door and so we’re stuck with the kiwi fruit.

We’re stating here for two nights, so plan to go for walk out into the countryside, following a couple of advertised routes to nearby attractions. So another slow morning, leisurely breakfast and a wander – perfect for a Sunday.

We wanted to be up bright and early this morning to go to Concarneau’s market before we travelled further south. We even toyed with the idea of setting an alarm, but thought that was a bit over the top. We always beat our alarms……

Hubby shook me awake at 7:30 with the first chink of morning light. So much for an early rise, but we soon packed away and as we couldn’t leave the van at the campsite, decided to head into town. Last night, the girl on reception showed us which car park took campervans, which we duly located on Google maps and I even pinned it. I’ve come to the conclusion that our satnav hates us as it took us on a convoluted tour of Concarneau’s residential back streets and dropping us off at a tiny car park, that evidently was not in the right place – it hadn’t even taken us to the pin!!! So I made sure that it recognised the pin, but manually got us back on the main road and let the satnav guide us from there to the car park. However, Google hasn’t done an update recently as the entrance to the campervan park was blocked off with huge concrete barriers (they were building some apartments on some scrap land) and we were now heading to a height barrier for the car carpark. We blocked the road as we did a fifty point turn, smiling at the French drivers and mouthing “merci, merci” as they waited patiently. Finally, we intricated ourselves out of our sticky dilemma and with the next left turn, finally found the campervan car park!!!!

https://www.deconcarneauapontaven.com/en/residing/markets

It was full with motorhomes and campers and we snuffled the last spot. I went to pay at the machine, but a kindly camper stuck his head out of his unit and informed me that it was free (and so it was after September). So we waddled ten minutes down the road (gave us time to recover from all this trauma) and found the most marvellous French market on the big square where we walked yesterday evening – we wandered up and down the lanes, in awe of the amount of produce being sold. I had brought my big French basket on this trip and we filled it up with vegetables, bread, yoghurts, eggs and even a belt. It was a lovely experience and the Pup enjoyed meeting her French counterparts and getting the odd pat.

We bought coffees off the coffee stall holder and went across the road to some benches where we watched the world go by and wished there were fantastic markets like this near where we lived. The road was full of shoppers on their bikes, big buses and coaches swinging 360 degrees around a tiny roundabout, the general swarm of people – it was fabulous, it had such a great vibe and atmosphere. With our basket full, we wandered along the port, admiring the boats moored there and then walked up the slight hill back to the Van.

We noticed, as with other towns in France, that they each seem have an abundance of opticians – not just one or two shops, but quite a few vying for custom. Just seemed a bit excessive as the population of France seems no more wanting of eyewear than us Brits. However, we were very envious of the styles on offer with some fantastic bright and outrageous frames (think Pru Leith and you’re on the right track) which are very much lacking in our optician’s ranges.

We jumped onto the N165 heading to L’Orient further down the coast. Our daughter, who’s deeply into history, mentioned about visiting the U boat pens there. Intrigued, she told us that in World War Two, the Germans had built a massive concrete structure to house their submarines and it still survived. We did a quick Google – they did guided tours but they didn’t start until later in the week, but we decided to have a look anyway. From N165, it was an easy ride to the port area where La Base, as it’s known is located. It’s surrounded by warehouses, marine offices and other businesses connected to the port, with cars parked everywhere – it looked very chaotic. We had no intention of actually visiting, but expected it to be behind fencing and more alluring to tourists – we just wanted a quick look. We couldn’t find any dedicated parking so ended up on a piece of scrappy land where a German VW camper had its side door open, its occupants having lunch in the back, watching the port opposite. I nipped out, not convinced that this was La Base, just to get photographic evidence that I’d been there, but only got a seriously graffiti covered side wall. We decided to carry on our journey, wishing we had known about it earlier but at least we had a quick peek. We wheedled our way out of the maze of roads and found ourselves back on the main road out.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lorient_Submarine_Base

https://www.la-flore.fr/en/home

Not content that we had driven up our blood pressure several times today negotiating urban French roads, we decided to head to a nearby campervan accessory shop while we were in the vicinity – we still needed some awning straps and some toilet tablets, so we decided to go and find this particular place. It seemed we went through all of L’Orient’s industrial/business parks and most of their roundabouts (L’Orient also has bus lanes running down the middle of their roads, just to make it a bit more exciting). We finally found the accessory shop on a modern estate of light industry, which looked more like a factory than a shop. A kindly member of staff informed us that they only took orders via their website and then you could come and collect here in a few days. Seeing our disappointment, they offered us a coffee and pointed us in the direction of another accessory shop five minutes away. Bless them.

So we hit the road and again found ourselves on yet another business park. We found a sign for the shop, but the road looked like it ended in a dead end, a heap of unmade road and piles of earth – clearly this was a new business park still under construction. It never occurred to us to venture further down this road, so spent many minutes doing U-turns, stopping outside buildings and searching for clues on the whereabouts of this camping shop. Eventually I got out and accosted a lady, eating her lunch in the autumn sun and she pointed down towards the dead end – the road did continue round to the right.

So we followed her guidance and et voila, there was the biggest building around, brand spanking new and gleaming, its forecourt full of campers and motorhomes. You couldn’t miss it! The downside was that it was shut for lunch until 2pm, so with half an hour to kill, we made ourselves a cuppa in their car park, had a quick lunch and watched AWAC styled aeroplanes make repeated flyovers. Finally we were able to go inside and spent some time, admiring all the products, before buying what we needed. Feeling accomplished, we hit the N165 again and headed to Carnac, our home for the next three days.

It was lovely and sunny, a pleasant 22 degrees as we approached Carnac, but we needed a supermarket for a few bits so again, we traumatised ourselves again looking out for a suitable outlet. We came across a Lidl – that would do as we only needed mayo, salad dressing and beer and I nipped in. Seemingly staffed by only one girl who alternatively stacked and manned the tills, this particular branch didn’t have hand baskets, only large and unwieldy trolleys requiring an Euro to be released. I decided to balance my items in my arms as I tried to find the elusive salad dressing and white sauce (another member of staff appeared out of nowhere – as I tried to get Google Translate to co-operate, he sweetly informed me that he spoke English). He swiftly took me to the relevant aisles, where I thanked him profusely and staggered to the tills, picking up a couple of unscheduled items on the way. The till was empty – another couple waiting to be served – so I dumped my shopping on the conveyor belt and texted Hubby to say I would be back in a min – it felt that I had spent half the afternoon in there.

Finally, the girl appeared and I made my escape. The campsite was just down the road and we were weary of our little escapades today – the trauma of navigating, locating and driving had caught up with us. We checked in and found our pitch under shady trees, separated from our neighbours by five foot hedges. The back of the Van looked like it had suffered a major explosion – the French bag usually held my coats and spare shoes which all had been unceremoniously dumped on the back seat this morning and had slithered off, our shopping bags blocked the floor, the campsite had needed passports so things had got flung in the search of those. We took a deep breath, got the wine out and began to organise (we cleared the Van by chucking stuff out of the side door – what fellow campers thought, goodness knows). Soon, we were settled, the Van tidied, some laundry was being washed and the kettle was on.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnac

We chilled for the rest of the day – we were here for three nights and could relax, no need to pack and get back on the road. It was quite a nice feeling. So tomorrow, a leisurely breakfast and maybe some checking out of the local area.

Thought of the Day: why do some (well, quite a lot) French ablution blocks never have loo roll in the toilet cubicles? There’s not even a loo roll holder! So you’ve got to take your own loo roll with you. I’ve stopped shoving it up my jumper and brazenly walk with the roll in my hand, but am I being so British again? I’m going to have to get used to all this and be more European.

We’re off again! This time heading south through France and down towards Spain with no real plan or timeline. Just see how far we get before we have to turn around.

We were rudely awoken by our alarm, diligently set for 4am, for a 5am departure. It was tipping it down with rain as we bundled the last of our bits in our Van, got The Pup settled and headed down the lane in the pitch darkness. A bit of a shock not having a glowing dawn breaking over the hills, but it is September. We jumped onto the M6 and headed south, the motorway heavy with traffic even at this hour of the morning. The rain was incessant – easing off, then a deluge – not easy in the dark. Lorries threw up spray and it was hard work. Dawn finally broke and with the rain petering out, we pulled into Norton Canes services for a Costa breakfast and a welcomed cup of coffee.

Suitably refreshed, we hit the road again. The satnav wanted to take us around the M25 anti-clockwise to avoid a perceived 45 minute delay. Checking other apps, we defied her wisdom and headed to the Dartford Crossing (after all I had already paid the £3.50 toll!) and had a pleasant and uninterrupted journey to the Bridge. We picked up the M20 and before we knew it, we were at Le Shuttle at Ashford and the sun had come out. Fabulous.

We had to self check in which involved me hanging out of the passenger window and pressing buttons which seemed quite obstinate. It wasn’t easy, but it finally worked. The couple before us, almost ended up in divorce, as they spent ages trying to find booking references on their phone and then trying to get the machine to recognise them – they were so long that a driver behind us got out to find out what was causing the hold-up. But, finally, they had success, the traffic light went green and the barrier let them through!

We had to go to Pet Reception first to get The Pup authorised which went smoothly. A couple appeared with four dogs in tow and asked them if they had taken out a small mortgage to take them abroad. There is no Pet Passport per se – just a 9 page cluster of paper which costs well over £100 and is one use only. Yep, every time you go abroad, you have to visit your vet to fill out the Animal Health Certificate and each time it costs over £100. It’s probably cheaper than kennels, but still eye watering.

We feasted on a Burger King (and wished we hadn’t) and hung around. Our 3.15 train was pushed back to 3.46 (some technical hitch earlier – last time, they had lost trains………don’t ask). We crossed our fingers and hoped that we wouldn’t be seriously delayed after our slot came up with “more information in 23 minutes” on the information board, but we got called to go to Border Control which was glacial (passport control for both British and French) and finally we headed down the ramp and boarded Le Shuttle! We’ve just upgraded to a bigger campervan and are a touch precious about it at the moment – the train crew get the vehicles really up close and personal (we must almost kiss bumpers) which is quite disconcerting. We just hoped the guy in front is good on hill starts and doesn’t roll back………..

We took the chance to get a quick 40 winks in as the train gently rocked us through the Channel Tunnel and feeling a bit more refreshed, we hit the French roads to the village of Gandspette for our first campsite. We had spent our final night there on our Polish trip and decided to return as it was only 40 minutes from Calais and is a very nice campsite. Set in woodland with a small chateau, it has a swimming pool, tennis courts and a little bar/restaurant with chickens just sauntering around. Really sweet. We checked in and found our pitch, spending many minutes trying to get the Van onto blocks to get it level. The blocks kept sliding as we reversed onto them so we gave up and headed off for a well earned and celebratory pint. Only later, did our addled brains landed on the idea of actually driving onto them…….doh.

https://www.caravanclub.co.uk/overseas/france/hauts-de-france/le-camping-chateau-du-gandspette

We enjoyed our beer and ordered some food. It definitely isn’t Michelin starred and mainly leans towards to carnivores, but being a veggie I managed to get an aubergine crumble and frites ordered. It was adequate and filled a hole. The Pup munched on the Bonio biscuit the reception guy gave her.

We wandered back to The Van as the night drew in and settled in – think we will be spending a week wondering where we have put stuff and possibly be doing a spot of re-arranging as we figure out our new campervan. Overall it all went rather smoothly today and it’s nice to be back on the road. We will sleep well tonight once we’ve shoved The Pup off our bed………..

Sorry, no photos today. The M6 and M25 aren’t particularly photogenic and Le Shuttle isn’t much better. I am the official co-pilot and after 7 hours plus of travelling and dealing with Le Shuttle, my main concern was getting us to the campsite safely and without incident (apart from the unexpected toll). Tomorrow will be more interesting, I promise.