France

Pyrenees (West)

Descending a quite road on the French side of the Pyrenees, we came across a dam. There are many dams in the area but what caught my attention about this dam were the bear prints. Someone had painted bear paw prints all the way up the main dam wall. With a little bit of manoeuvring, I managed to park Baloo so that the prints on the wall lined up with the bear paw prints on the side of the truck. Many would regard this as a complete waste of time but I found it immensely satisfying.

Further down the road, the clouds and mist settled down around us. It began to lightly drizzle. I observed, as I have observed many times before, that when the cloud is low over the hills and it is raining that pretty much everywhere starts to look like Borrowdale in the English Lake District.

We parked up at Les Forges d’Abel. This is a disused railway station just on the French side of the border to Spain. It served the now defunct Pau–Canfranc railway and was the last station in France just before the Col du Somport tunnel. From here we took the motorbike over the Col du Somport to Canfranc. In particular, we wanted to have a look at the Canfranc International railway station. This rather remarkable station was opened in 1928 and is immense. It was intended to serve the border crossing and was built as a joint venture between France and Spain. Although cooperating on building a station, the two countries could not agree on a single railway gauge, so part of size of the complex comes from the need for extensive shunting, customs and goods handling area. The actual station in 240m long and has 365 windows. In 1970 the French side of the line was closed following a serious derailment that destroyed a major bridge. It was never re-opened. The station suffered years of neglect with only a couple of trains a day arriving from the Spanish side. Then, after much campaigning from various sectors, it was announced in 2020 that the EU would make funding available to restore the station and re-open the international line.

When we visited, the restoration work appeared to be well underway. There are no through trains yet but the main station building is coming back to life. Part of this will be a hotel and international conference centre. Should be a very sumptuous and interesting place to stay one day.

On the way back we explored a couple of narrow roads that turned into tracks. Eventually we came back over the Col du Somport to our disused railway station. The main road here goes through a tunnel under the col. It is long, straight, dark and boring. We saw several groups of motorcyclists heading through the tunnel. Don’t do it guys. Take the high road. Over the Col du Somport is a lovely scenic road that winds it way over the mountains. There are some great bends but nothing too serious, even a Harley Davidson could make it. Then down through the lovely village of Canfranc. Even if you do not care about railway stations there are some terrific cafes.

Finally leaving the Pyrenees, we headed to Bordeaux and stumbled across a Chateau which invited motorhomes to park for free. Of course you were expected to taste the wine and maybe buy a few bottles. This was not really a hardship. We found out about another place (thank you Davide) that also offered water and electricity. Thus began a short but fun tour of Bordeaux vineyards.

Meanwhile, I have been trying out the new oven. The oven story is very long and expensive but the endpoint was a new Gaggenau steam oven. This is turning out to be really very capable. First task was making bread. I often use this as a test of a new oven. You can tell a lot about how even the heat is. With a steam oven you can use moisture to loosen the dough initially and later to create a crispy crust. First attempts were good and then I went on to make a sour dough loaf that was possibly one of the best I even made. Really good solid crust while light and properly textured inside.

While shopping in Lidl, I came across a very cheap vacuum packing machine. The oven claimed sufficient low temperature control at high humidity to be good enough for sous vide cooking. I never tried this before. The principle is that you vacuum pack the food and then cook it at a relatively low temperature. These two conditions combine to preserve the flavour. First attempt was mushrooms. Cooked at 45°C for over an hour. They were spectacular. Simple brown mushrooms with garlic, butter and fresh coriander. Next came asparagus. Fresh asparagus, since it is that time of year, with butter and a little seasoning. 85°C for 25 minutes. Also very good. I can see why it is so popular with some chefs. Can be a bit of a fiddle getting everything arranged in the bag and sealing it but appears to be well worth the effort. More experiments will follow.

Diane has a clean bill of health. She has been tested and her bones are fine. The surgery has worked well and everything is knitted back together properly. Seems like breaking her hip was just really, really unlucky and no indicator of an underlying condition. Enormous thank you to Claudia at Unicat for helping us get this sorted out. Diane jokes that I kicked her crutches away when we found out all was well. This is not quite true but I did suggest that she could get on with a bit more walking. It will take many months before she has her full mobility and strength back but we are pleased that everything is going in the right direction. That sorted it was time to get back on the road.

France is mostly a relaxed and easy country to travel in with a motorhome. There are plenty of parking places, plenty of service points and wild camping is generally tolerated. The countryside is varied and rewarding, the people are friendly and the food is great. The last couple of weeks have been warm and sunny. Our French peregrination has been a relaxed and easy affair.

From Germany, we slipped up to Luxembourg to buy slightly cheaper diesel and then followed the Mosel river southwards. Avoiding main roads and taking our time, we attempted to link up several nation parks. This strategy was more or less successful and we discovered many new parts of France.

We have a new oven. The Baloo oven story is a bit of a saga and will be recounted in due course. This is the fifth oven to be installed since we set off. Hopefully it is the last one for a good while now. On the up side, it is proving to be the best oven yet and makes me very happy. Cooking is often high on our agenda. You might guess this by looking at me. Putting a tendency to podginess to one side, one of the joys in our life is preparing and eating good food. Bread is clearly an early test of any oven and this was reassuringly successful. A variety of bakes have followed and then we got to the pizza. This was good. But I think it can be better. Understanding a new oven always takes a while. Well, for me anyhow. This one has steam modes. A big step forward in capabilities but at the cost of complexity of operation.

There was a bit of a heatwave. By the time we were crossing the Grands Causses Natural Park it was getting hot. Properly 30°C hot. Fine while we were driving with the cab air-conditioning running but a bit much when we stopped for the night. The road took us high into some hills and appeared to offer a great opportunity. Higher up it would be cooler, fresher, more of a breeze and fewer flies. We parked up on a broad ridge overlooking several shallow valleys. Lovey views, cool air, perfect. Until the flies arrived, hundreds of them. While we were eating at one side of Baloo, a farmer had been busy unloaded tons, many tons, of freshly created organic manure. Cow shit. Mountains of it. A slight shift in wind direction put us right in the odorous path. We’d been at the wine. It was too late to move. We just had to rough it out, truly horrendous. The wind dropped, the stink rose, the flies descended and the temperature stayed resolutely high. Next morning was a quick breakfast, an early start and a promise to be more careful about where we parked.

La Plagne

A consultant checked Diane’s hip before pronouncing that all was well. She is still not allowed to walk on it but the healing process appears to be going in the right direction. I figured that since she could not get out and about wherever we were, that we might as well go to a ski area. One of the many joys of travelling with Baloo is that we can follow the resorts with good snow conditions. At the end of this season the situation was very mixed. Some areas even had to close early. The best conditions appeared to be at La Plagne in the Savoie area of the French Alps. We have not been there for over ten years and so, two days later, we arrived.

The snow was not great. South facing slopes were bare and the lower runs were slush and mud. I don’t think there had been any fresh snow for a couple of weeks. Still, any skiing is better than no skiing and I enjoyed myself. Diane could sit out in the sun during the day. The parking area for motor homes is right next to one of the runs. You can watch skiers and snowboarders going past with varying degrees of competence. You can watch ski instructors patiently coaxing the aspirants following like a line of ducks. There are people walking or plodding in snow shoes. People on sledges, mostly younger people. Paragliders dot the air with their colourful canopies. On a pleasant sunny day it can all get very busy.

La Plagne is very popular with the British. You can spot groups of Brits at the lift queues. Everyone else converges on chairs in a rather haphazard fashion. Brits, however, have a great cultural background in orderly queues. They like to stand in well organised lines. Queue jumping is considered a moral sin up there with adultery and taking the last biscuit in the packet. On a six person lift, the Brits will organise themselves into neat rows of acquaintances to discuss the weather while they wait. Rows of five people, four, three, even just two at times. This is great for me. I can slip down the side to the front of the queue and grab one of the unoccupied spaces. This is not queue jumping, I am in a seat that was otherwise going to be empty. But still, I am often regarded as a queue jumper. I have intruded into their group and their carefully reserved place in the queue. There are glaring scowls and muttered tutting sounds. I pretend to be foreign and either ignore them or give my best impression of a French “boof” while shrugging my shoulders. Occasionally, I will move up to the gate of a six seat lift and the four Brits will just stand still. The gate opens, I sit down on my own, they take the next chair. Preferring to wait, to queue a bit longer, rather than share a chair with someone outside of their group.

Colin, from Scotland, was camped in a motorhome just opposite us. He was on his own and we ended up skiing together. Colin is a much better skier than me. This was fine for me. I had to really improve my game to keep up. He was good company as well. We skied on several days and then the snow came. The area really needed some new snow. Two days later everything was looking much whiter and less muddy. A big improvement. The morning was dull and overcast. Snow was in the air and visibility was poor but we thought we would have a look anyhow. Great decision. At the top of the main lift we popped out above the cloud. Brilliant sunshine and fresh snow. Big vistas and cloud filled valleys. We had a terrific day bouncing around in the soft snow and were both pretty shattered by the end.

This time of year the fresh snow never lasts for long and within a few days it was thinning. Bare patches starting to show through again. Colin went off to the airport to collect his daughter and I caught Covid. I had been avoiding travelling in gondolas preferring the chairlifts where you can sit in the fresh air. However, there are a couple of areas that can only be accessed by gondola. One, called “Le Glacier”, is served by tiny little bubbles that six people can squeeze into. Covid capsules as I came to think of them. No windows to open, not even any air vents. I only used them four times, but that was enough.

Obviously Diane developed symptoms a day later and so we isolated ourselves for a few days. Each of us had a mild temperature and a day when we preferred to lie on the bed. Fortunately, neither of us got very poorly. Colin came back, skied with his daughter for a few days and then left to go home. We waved through the window. Eventually we tested negative by which time the snow was all but hopeless for skiing so we gave up on La Plagne and set off for a short tour of the Maritime Alps.

France

France is a lovely country for travelling in a motorhome. Pleasant countryside. Easy parking. Quiet. We drifted across France without much effort as we settled back into living in Baloo.
Our normal routine is typically to drive a few hours a day. Mornings are for cleaning out the truck, fixing things, sorting out emails and occasionally baking bread. We also plan the route for the day. This is often a very superficial exercise and can sometimes be no more involved than choosing a direction.

Setting off in a clean, shiny truck
We don’t usually fit into a space in the supermarket car park
Fresh bread for breakfast

After a few hours driving, we arrive. Sometimes we just spot somewhere nice. Often we use Apps and guide books to try to identify a good parking spot. Sometimes we need to try a few places before the ideal pitch presents itself. Generally, we avoid campsites and commercial camper van stops. Baloo is remarkably self-sufficient: power, heating, water, cooking. We have a lovely bathroom with a shower and even if we use the washing machine, we still only need to take on water every few weeks. Our ideal site is quiet and possibly quite remote. Somewhere to walk the dog, enjoy the views and relax in the evening. My personal favourites have been on the top of mountains or cliffs.
Not far from Bordeaux we met up with Pete. I have known Pete since I was a teenager and we have had many adventures together on the cliffs, mountains and ski slopes of the world. He is pottering around France in his one-man camper van so we travelled together for a few days.

Pete suggested a visit to the Millau viaduct. Built in 2004 it is, at 336m, still one of the highest bridges in the world. A few years ago, I watched a fascinating documentary about its construction and had been interested in seeing it ever since. Diane and I hopped on the bike to have a look around both ends of the bridge and then eventually we drove Baloo over the main deck. Actually crossing the bridge is a bit of an anti-climax. The carriageways are well away from the edge of the deck and there is a substantial fence. The view is limited and you do not really get a sense of the height.

We waved goodbye to Pete and continued to trek south.

Lets Gets

Spent a week at Lets Gets on the French border. We were there to meet up with an old friend and ski. It snowed quite a lot. The slopes were crowded. Many Brits on package tours.

This used to be a very popular location for motor homes. Close to a chair lift. The ‘Aire de Camping Cars’ costs €18 per day. For which you get – nothing. Well, not quite, there is a hole in one corner of the car park to empty your washing up water. However, that really is the full scope of the facilities. When the inspectors came round, they took our money and then told us we were not welcome. Too big. Do not come back. How big is too big? They got very vague on this and shuffled a bit. Oh well. Lets Gets just got a little less popular.

Too big for the parking area
Too much snow to go skiing
Deep, fresh snow on Mont Chéry
Dog with no legs