Dover, Wissant, La Rochelle, Bordeaux, San Sebastian & Lisbon
France (and Dover)
We finally landed in Dover (metaphor - we didn't fly, we drove) on the Thursday evening. I immediately got attacked by a big bee thing. After a couple of slaps it buggered off.
We basically payed £30 for a patch of grass. There was no electricity (park fault/our fault?) and the bar and restaurant were closed. But we were still content and cozy with red wine, half a sandwich each and a few episodes of the US Office. I've come to accept that both the UK and US versions are brilliant and actually incomparable. So can you finally shut up about it?
On the way to the ferry port I trapped my little finger in one of the van drawers trying to enjoy a castle - work that one out.
We got the ferry okay. Nobody asked to see our tickets which was a bit weird, but we were excited, hot and sunny. I bought a boombox speaker which came in totally unnecessary, wasteful packaging. I felt sorry for the plastic. I may write a story about it's life after packaging. Just gets thrown away. Ends up as a turtle's headband, the poor plastic thing.
We stopped at a free motorhome spot in Wissant. Wissant turned out to be delightful. We drank Kir Royals, wandered on the beach, walked the market and ate mussels and steak. Rach keeps saying how happy she is, which is so nice. We finished the day quaffing champagne. I was going to say drinking but no, quaffing it is.
On day 3 (day 2 abroad) I drove the van for the first time. About 4 hours, from just outside Wissant to Mousseaux-Sur-Seine, about an hour outside Paris. It went well. Surprisingly comfortable.
Rach did her first public poo. It went well. Surprisingly comfortable.
The next day, we arrived in La Rochelle on the west coast. I immediately reversed into a bush. We now had a back garden. Found a free spot right on the sea in La Rochelle, about ten metres from the water. We watched the sunset from the van. It was quite glorious. Wait though - it gets better - I had curried mussels for tea and Rach said my french (the little I remember) was turning her on. GCSEs DO matter.
On day 5 we had a stroll around La Rochelle in BLAZING sunshine which completely knackered me for the rest of the day. Having left La Rochelle, sunflower fields eventually led us into Bordeaux where we hit horrendous rush hour traffic. I had some road rage after a human patience-vacuum deliberately cut me up after I stalled at a junction, so I nearly went into the side of him. Not his fault, I'm sure he was rushing to save a loved one or something.
We had a swim to cool/calm down when we got to the campsite in Bordeaux. Also a shower - our conditioner has the colour and consistency of salad cream, which made me hungry, so we sat down to have dinner a a little burger bar which overlooks a pond by our plot. Having ordered and sat down a flash downpour hit us - there was hail the size of ice cubes. Oh well, we still got our burgers.
The following day I woke up to the news that the inverter beeped very loudly while Rach was boiling the kettle. Alarm bells, literally. Checked the batteries. They were flat as Dutch lager (that's a joke from something but I can't remember what). I spent the next four hours trying to teach myself electronics. Or was it Physics? I didn't even know the bloody subject.
We decided in the end to stay another night in Bordeaux to try and recover the batteries. Luckily we bought a Smart Charger from Halfords in Dover - hopefully it does the job.
Bordeaux really surprised me. Beautiful city! Great buildings everywhere. We saw a gang in white shirts stood on top of one. A guy appeared out of nowhere on the ground to tell us the guys on the building were acrobats practicing for a show in a couple of days which was free! He was a lovely, friendly fellow. But we were leaving the next day so I told him to fuck off.
I didn't really.
Spain
On day 7 we crossed the border into Spain.
We left Bordeaux praying the batteries would stay alive on the trip to San Sebastian. The south western corner of France is roundabout crazy. It's just one after the other. Forever. All we heard over and over again from the sat-nav lady was ''exit the roundabout and enter the roundabout'' ...for about two hours. Some fairly picturesque scenery though.
Having finally arrived in San Sebastian we parked up in a smallish car park crammed full of other motorhomes. I read more than a few reports online (on the superb park4night app) of vehicles being robbed by local opportunist Spanish rapscallions (my words). I only told Rach about the first report and kept the rest to myself. She gets scared of - well, everything. Bless her.
I broke the fan which was a good move because it was a million degrees.
Lay on the beach in San Sebastian for a couple of hours and swam in the sea. It is a beautiful beach. Rach noted that the view out to sea could've been mistaken for Thailand because of the small islands jutting out of the water near the shore. Show off.
The Old Town was miles away so we had to stay in the new/modern/less old town and get a bite to eat. We learned that if you want to eat after lunch but before 8pm in San Sebastian, you can forget it. We had sandwiches back at the van. We may revisit San Sebastian to sample the food and old town properly.
I had to turn the fridge off at 6am as the batteries were saying they were half discharged. Worrying... but at least we didn't get tea-leafed!
Portugal
Day 8 was haaard going. A ten hour journey in blistering heat to a place called Guarda in Portugal.
It was hot. It was boiling. It was so hot and boiling my whole body was crying. Sweat, I think they call it. By the evening both of us could not stop drinking water. Guzzling for hours. It's definitely the thirstiest we've ever been.
I woke up at 2am to check the leisure batteries. Half dead. I had to turn the fridge off again until morning. Not sure if it's normal and a fridge is just too much energy consumption for our setup, or if we really did bugger the batteries in Bordeaux. Bugger the Batteries in Bordeaux. Finally, I have my album title.
There is supposed to be a stunning castle in Guarda but we were just too tired to explore. Once the wedding is done we will obviously have more time to properly explore places, which will be nice.
Two big plusses today though -
1. We had a McDonalds!
2. England beat the Aussies and are in the World Cup Final! I missed it because of the journey - I have GOT to find somewhere to watch the final on Sunday.
A much easier four hour drive (overcast and cooler) got us to Lisbon. God knows what is going on with these Portugese tolls but two things are certain - we don't have a clue how they work and we haven't paid a single Euro. We just keep driving through these arches with no obvious way to pay... Apparently the fine for not paying is 10 times the total of the toll fees, plus the fees themselves. Although I've read that people have been through Portugal, never paid a toll and never been fined. Although I've also read a story about a group who were caught up with at a petrol station by traffic police who demanded the toll fees on the spot.
I decided, sod it, we'd just sneak out of the country via one of the smaller roads.
We had a great night relaxing in the van in Lisbon's biggest campsite. Rach did an amazing pasta and we had some wine. Rach in particular was very relaxed, so I put The Babadook on to liven her up. What a film.
I went for a poo with Rach because she was getting stressed about going in public. She is unreal. We found a toilet block over the other side of the site because somehow that helps. We didn't go in the same cubicle, you understand. Just at the same time. Anyway, it was successful. Well, she went; I don't know how successful it was. What I can say is that mine was textbook.
Had a lie in on the Saturday morning and then made our way into Lisbon for a wander. Great buildings, lovely pavements (''what do you call the bits we walk on - is it sidewalk?'' - Rach), meat and chips served everywhere, offered drugs three times - just a superb city.
They also have homeless, deformed men lying around looking like they are dead. One poor bloke had a leg that looked like it had been squeezed out of a giant toothpaste tube. There were also quaint little trams pootling about everywhere. It was a rollercoaster of emotions.
We took a wrong turn on the walk back to the campsite from the bus stop. It involved walking for an extra 45 minutes, through brambles and, briefly, along a fucking motorway. Absolute catastrophe.
After extracting the last of the motorway garden from our clothes and shoes we left for the festival - NOSAlive festival. I was there for one reason - Tomorrow's Modern Boxes. The gig was amazing. Think Rach enjoyed it too, which was great. I made us stand and watch MARINA (bloody awful Eurovision type shit) just so we had a good spot for Yorke. He blended Truth Ray into Traffic like I'd seen in a recording of a previous gig on Youtube and loved - it was mesmerising.
The festival itself was so-so. A bit odd. Being an inner city festival meant it was quite small. It had three stages set up quite close to one another - the clubbing stage definitely sound-clashed with the main one. I had a rubbish kebab which was rubbish. I drank a pint of red wine (among lagers). I was hammered. We left with The Chemical Brothers still going and somehow managed to get an uber very swiftly, which was surprising given the amount of people pouring out of the festival and very welcome given the nearby cockneys who had started to irritate me for some reason.
What a first week. Tomorrow we make a break for Spain as toll dodgers!
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