Lockdown in France Part 1

Race against time, continued

I awoke at 7:32am, which meant I'd completed that night's sleep in 4 hours and 52 minutes - if not a Personal Best then certainly a Season's Best. I woke Rach and we immediately got on our way. We had about 4 hours to get as far south as possible; ideally the coast, but that was 6 hours away.

We ended up making it as far as Provence, about 45 minutes from the coast. Not a bad effort at all. We actually drove on for an extra hour and a half after the lockdown began at midday, but thankfully didn’t get stopped. There was still plenty of traffic on the roads.

Baux-de-Provence

At around 1:30pm we reached a little place called Baux-de-Provence, north of Marseilles, and headed to an area with three suitable spots according to park4night. We opted for the furthest along, high up on a ridge overlooking the southern French horizon. Behind us and to our sides were scenic cliff ranges and to our right was a view of the castle of Baux-de-Provence, which was lit up orange at night. Crickets and birds were chirping obliviously and butterflies flitted through the rows of olive trees which lined the grass next to the van. We only encountered a few passers-by on the first day, so we were very hopeful we wouldn’t be disturbed here. Quiet and beautiful, it was very nearly the perfect spot to see out the lockdown.

The reason I only say nearly perfect is because we were lacking water - the sea, a lake or a pool. And it was hot. Really hot. After arriving, I immediately got into my Brit abroad costume - top off, shorts and flip flops on. Rach couldn’t keep her eyes off me; a look of purest disgust.

Rach started doing yoga. And why not? When in confinement with very little to do, I suppose the one form of entertainment you always have available to you is bending yourself about a bit.

We went for a stroll around the local area but Rach quickly got bored slash frightened that we’d trespassed onto someone’s private land, so we walked back again. Back at the van, I noticed an old woman walk past, staring at the van and shaking her head. I’m 85% certain she was looking at the van, and not me in my sexy outfit.

The lockdown was spicing up Rach’s dreams:

‘’I was designing prison bathrooms, then there was a man whose balls had travelled up to his chest.’’

They’re always better told straight away, when she’s only half awake.

A couple of dogs had gotten into the habit of running over to us when on their walks past the van. One had a very active tail, which on one occasion kept bashing our new plant that we’d put out in the sun.

Saint-Remy-de-Provence

We ventured out to do a shop. We had to write out the permit to travel form which all people in France require to travel. It came in handy, as we did get stopped on the way, but they let us continue when we presented it. The drive to the supermarket through Saint-Remy-de-Provence was stunning. We passed more amazing olive tree fields and some incredible Roman Ruins. Saint-Remy was where Van Gogh went to attend a monastery when he went a bit mad towards the end of his life. It’s also where he did many of his most brilliant paintings.

Collared

When we got back from the shop we decided to move from our spot up on the ridge to an area lower down on a more open space, a way back from any pathways. Here in France we were a week into lockdown. The UK was yet to go down that route, although the feeling was that it was imminent.

The one good thing about lockdown is it allows you time to do some proper thinking - the kind of thinking that you wouldn’t otherwise have an opportunity to do. For example, have you ever noticed how American Fast Food employee’s hats are reminiscent of the WW2 US Army Officer’s Piped Garrison Side Cap?

After I’d finished thinking, I noticed a few people up on the ridge. They were too far away to properly make out what they were doing, but with my phone camera on x5 zoom, I could see that they had their hands to their foreheads, as if shading their eyes to look out. One of them pointed over at us, which was slightly unnerving. After a couple of minutes they wandered off and I didn’t think much more of it. About four hours later, as I was stood about to wee in a bush (saves the chemical toilet filling up too fast), I noticed a car driving up along the ridge. Thankfully, I hadn’t begun a stream. I held back as I watched the car. After a couple of seconds, I saw that it had yellow stripes on the side - it was a police car. I held out hope that it might continue straight but that was quickly dashed when the car turned right, down the hill in our direction.

They’d been alerted to our presence by some locals and had come to move us on. Those people from earlier, no question about it. The police explained that motorhomes were not allowed to stay in this area, but we could move to a camper designated spot in the nearby Fontvieille for 5 euro a day. The timing was horrendous, as it was just getting dark, but we packed everything away and got on the road.

Searching in the dark

We couldn’t find the spot the Police had mentioned, which I was actually happy about because, well, sod paying a fiver a day. It was now pitch black outside, which was making the task of finding somewhere a lot more difficult. We tried to get to a spot near a lake in the forest, but hit an obstacle in the form of a steep mini dirt hill. With our headlights cutting through the darkness, highlighting the mini hurricanes of dust we were throwing up, and the engine revving so loud the whole of France could hear it, I was worried we perhaps weren’t being inconspicuous enough.

Having got the van up the hill, we discovered that the forest entry, and indeed all forest entries, were closed due to COVID19, which ruled out the majority of our options. We eventually gave up for the night and parked up behind some trees in a quiet corner on the edge of the village.

It didn’t stay quiet. A rooster started mouthing off about something in the early hours and went on all morning, which really separated the men from the boys when it came to sleeping through it. Or so Rach told me. I was asleep.

A new place

In the morning, we found a motorhome stop which looked suitable, about half an hour away, near Salon-de-Provence. We got on our way. Thankfully, we managed to get to this new stop without being hassled. There was nobody else there and it was quite pleasant for what it was. We parked up next to a big tree, placing the van at an angle for maximum privacy. The place was located just off a main road, but we didn’t mind that too much. We had free water and garbage disposal, so we were all good. It was also a camper-designated stop, so we wouldn’t (we hoped) be moved on again.

Rach had suddenly burst into tears a little while earlier, when we were parked up at a shop on the way to the camper stop. She hardly ever reacts like that to anything. The uncertainty we had been plunged into in the last 12 hours, mixed with a lack of sleep and my company, had clearly taken its toll.

We spent the next few days with our eyes fixed semi-permanently on the news. The UK had itself gone into lockdown. Things were getting really crazy. At one point I looked up from the daily Government briefing to see Rach balancing some lettuce on her head. I was glad to see she was back to normal.