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Five Months So Far

The Hymer has done a great job on our 7,500 mile trip so far. Graham says we're getting 30 miles to the gallon on average which is pretty good for a van our size.

Mr Fluffy takes a dip

We plan to head up to the Alsace Wine Route on our way back to the UK but it's around 31 degrees here by a lake at Serriere de Chautagne in the foothills of the Alps, so we're not in a big hurry to move just yet. Mr Fluffy has been brave enough for a swim but I am happy with a glass of wine in the shade watching the blonde horses have a trot among the trees.

Awning out - how naughty

Friends, Flowers and Ancient Towns

Balcony des fleurs

As we walked up to Carleen’s 13^th Century Templar house we noticed her balcony still had traces of the Marche aux Fleurs that had taken place in Richerenches the week before. A hardboard butterfly, three tasteful paper flowers, and a selection of pots gave a feeling of merriment to the frontage.

The famed balcone - photo courtesy Carleen

Having known Carleen and her family since she was ten and I was twelve (since school in the NSW town of Orange) it seemed strange for two daggy chicks from Oz (well one at least - ie me) to be meeting in another hemisphere, in a setting from an ancient century, some ‘cough cough’ years after school. Who would have thought it…?

Carleen doing green by the clock tower

Mr Fluffy was happy to busy himself with a few DIY projects particularly when the girly vibe almost exploded with a hairdressing session in the kitchen. He could safely retreat to Gerard’s workshop to angle-grind the legs off a metal table and drill holes in things that needed holes in. The village itself dates back to the Templars and has a very famous truffle market on Saturdays over winter.

By the restaurant O'Rabasse

Hugo ‘kind of’ enjoyed meeting Elvis the dog for the second time (we visited briefly for Christmas Eve) but was a tad annoyed he was no longer the sole canine target of our affections. We ate at an excellent restaurant O’Rabasse, run by a Belgian couple, who made the best strawberry desert in the world. It was almost as good as the jar of coq (au vin) I'd cooked the night before.

View over Lunas

Hugo enjoys a stroll by the river in Lunas

Boys' Delight

The boys sneak in to St Georges' Chapel in Lunas

This does not look scary enough

Hugo enjoying a good sock by the river

We’d spent a few days travelling to Richerenches via the Pyrenees and what stunning medieval villages we encountered along the way. We spent the full moon night in the aptly named Lunas and went on to steam train wonderland, St Jean de Gard. We have just driven north through some horrendously windy alpine roads along gorges and through tunnels that have seriously set me up with a bout of extreme stress but thankfully we are now in St Antoine L’Abbaye for a couple of days to rest before heading for the Route De Vins in the Alsace (although I have sworn off the drink after a couple of nights on the lash with Carleen).

I thought I was the immature one - Abby at St Antoine

Oh and the good news is we’ve found some suitably overpriced PG tips so there is no longer any need to hurry back.

 

Medieval garden St Antoine

The Vicar Has No Tea But He Does Have a Devil

The worst has happened and we will need to come back post haste. Yes, we have run out of PG tip tea bags! We are making do with Twinings but it’s just not the same.

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Devilish Digits

After reading Holy Blood Holy Grail in the eighties I have always wanted to go to Rennes-Le-Chateau and today we did just that. It’s a stunning place and the church is fascinating. What other church has a gigantic devil holding up the font by the entrance door? And the place certainly has a buzz about it. The few shops that are there are making the most of the whole ‘Dan Brown Thing’ and you can’t blame them. It’s a bit like a mini Glastonbury with esoteric bookshops, angel and unicorn merchants, and one can even buy branded wine.

Astrological Sun Dial over a doorway 

Hugo loving Campan

Our drive through the Pyrenees over these last few days has been absolutely gorgeous. Imagine our amusement when we were in a tiny mountain village called Campan and we came across an English tea shop doing fish and chips (and not in a Costa Del Sol way) – not quite the French cheese we had been craving but of course we had to indulge. We parked by a river packed with fish and Hugo enjoyed whizzing around the green fields with no fear of being run over (he has no road sense whatsoever). 

Wine, Witches, and a Not So Near Death Experience

RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT!

As my life flashed in front of my eyes Graham finally realised he’d entered the winding mountain road on the wrong side and was driving on the left. His mind had suddenly gone back into UK mode. Luckily the previously busy road had gone quiet and we escaped unharmed. Phew! (I would like to say that his driving has been very good up till this point.)

Mr Fluffy loves a French woodpile

We’d pootled along the Camino de Santiago, stopping, of course, to overnight near a free wine fountain at a monastery in Irache.

Love a free Wiiiiiiiiine

After taking of the holy drop we went on to Zugurramurdi in the witchiest Basque country, there to partake of the Museum of Witchcraft and famous caves where 17^th century witches held their sabbats.

Spain's Museum of Witchcraft

Tableaux of The Inquisitors and a Captured 'Witch'

The museum was an interesting affair, mainly focusing on the history of the witch hunts in the area where several people were burned as witches when hysteria overtook the region, thanks to the doings of The Inquisition. Although light on actual artefacts they had several tableaux and audiovisual pieces which made it a very interesting visit.

Nice Skull

There is a section on local folklore, of the Basque Goddess Mari and her accompanying legendary figures, and of the political similarities of the witchhunts of the 17^th Century with persecutions which have taken place later in history, such as the Nazis in Europe.

Ready for the Akelarre

On to the caves. We had visited here several years ago and pretty much had the place to ourselves as it was the middle of winter. This time it was busier but still atmospheric, especially in the Akelarre cave where the witches are said to have held their sabbats.

La Grande Grotte

These days the caves are more likely to be filled with parents taking photos of hilarious children pulling ugly faces pretending to be nasty witches.

And now, back in France, we look forward to a market or two where we can buy some fabulous cheese and practice our French.

A Trip So Far

Journey to date

After leaving Boscastle December 10th 2014 we have covered a little bit of ground in Dickie.

Hugo Wears Poo and Visits the Compostela

‘I’ve definitely washed all the fox poo off’.

It all started so well

Butter wouldn't melt - but a stick's in trouble

Mr Fluffy announced this so assertively that I actually believed him. On our morning walk along the river at A Rua in Spain, Hugo had taken it upon himself to have an extended roll in the aforementioned excrement. The river came in handy to give him a wash but, as we later drove off, Hugo jumped to my lap and my sniffs revealed remnants of poo on his neck and collar. Lovely! We now have a rather, shall we say, rustic aroma in Dickie (and on my jeans) and Mr Fluffy is in trouble.

Hugo meets his first goose

Hot poppy action

After a night of wine with our neighbours Tony and Claire/Clare we eased into the day with our eventful river walk and a fry up and we are now at Ponferrada. This brings back a lot of memories for Mr Fluffy as he walked the Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage route 11 years ago and we are parked in the car park of the peregrinos’ albergue. He is now urging me to walk it with him as back up in Dickie. It’s a possibility but I would certainly not be doing the 1000km or so he did from St Jean Pieds de Port. ‘It’s only 220km from Ponferrada’ says the volunteer warden in the albergue. Hmmmmm, I may need a bit of training and a new pair of knees before I set out so I’ll give it a miss right now.

Ponferrada

The Templar churches and castle give a very ancient feel to the place and the basilica certainly has a ghostly vibe. Everywhere are signs for the Compostela. Tomorrow we'll head to Astorga then on towards the Spanish/French border.

Graham urges Hugo to do the Compostela

He's still not sure despite the posh sign

Outside same church

Inside Santo Tomas de Los Ollas

Astorga Butcher's shop

Witch Country

After a stunning drive along the rather curvaceous roads of the Alto Douro, we arrived at the city of Lamego which is one of the oldest in Portugal and is famous for its sanctuario. We stayed at a lovely site to catch up on washing and wee fee and, on our walk to the town, we were offered a lift by a father and son who thought it was too terrible for us to be walking in the rain. Eventually we accepted their offer (wet dog and all) and they were kind enough to give us a potted history of the place when we arrived. I can't help thinking that the Portuguese are some of the nicest people we have met on all our travels.

Lamego Sanctuario

Our stay was brief as we were keen to get to the Tras-Os-Montes area which is supposed to be the witchiest place in Portugal. I have to say we were a little disappointed by the town of Montalegre which had more than a hint of the Cambourne about it (sorry Cambourne), especially when we were awoken at 6 am to the sounds of a market being erected around Dickie. After the initial panic we packed up and headed off to Vilar de Perdizes.

This Perdizes cottage has seen better days

I can imagine an ancient witch living here

The bridge between Spain and Portugal

What a difference! Perdizes has a witches market once a year, in September I think, and is a somewhat tumble down village surrounded by the most gorgeous countryside. On our walk we found a burial chamber and a gorge gorge which was a little bit like St Nectan's Glen in Cornwall. The river marked the border between Spain and Portugal.

burial chamber

close up

Olas de Santa Minha

We sadly left Portugal and are now in Spain, well Galicia actually. We are parked by a river and have met a lovely young British couple (hi Tony and Claire) who are full timing in their Burstner van, and allegedly (smiley face) have seen an otter in the wild only yesterday at this very site. We have not been so lucky but did meet a couple of Yorkshire terriers called Eros and Dior which was almost as good. We did try to find the otter but were unsuccessful even with Hugo helping. 

A small beverage tonight methinks (having finally recovered from the hangover).