France 59 - Day 3 a roman bridge and a fete

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Day Two – We all woke up to a rather dull French morning. For me the night had been a quiet one but then when you have a bit of a hearing problem all nights are quiet. Glenn on the other hand who has the hearing of Superman said that it had been a touch noisy but nothing to keep you awake all night. That is one of the problems of having the hearing of Superman. You hear every little squeak and noise in the night.

We breakfasted overlooking the sea. England lost in the mist. And it was cold too. Far colder than we expected for late August. Have we been spoiled by the lovely unusually hot summer we have experienced this year at home?

Reception opened at 8 so we packed up very quickly to leave and get on our way. It doesn’t take long to unhook the electric, the close the gas valves and fire up the GPS tracker and within ten minutes we were paying for our nights stay and were heading out of Bologne.

Snoopy the sat nav decided to take us on a detour. In our heads we could see exactly where we needed to be but she was hell bent on a scenic tour of the town. Eventually after much huffing and puffing she found the right road and we found ourselves on the autoroute south. Our first destination of the day the city of Rouen which we needed to skirt around.

Suzy ate up mile after mile of non-descript autoroute. The roadsides and fields looking just like back home. Rouen was going to be problematic with the Pont Mathilde bridge closed for repairs. Luckily the French had anticipated the problem and directed us up the A28, A29 and A151 which would take us further over and we would use the new bridge to cross the Seine. We were prepared for this having read about the delays on Motorhome Facts before we left home. A bit like the Scouts we were prepared.

The weather picked up a little on our route as we outrun the nasty cold front but it still felt a little chilly. We crossed Le Mans and headed for our campsite for the night. Camping Pont Romain at Yvre L’Eveque. A pretty little archetypal French village with the remains of a Roman/medieval bridge within walking distance. The camp was closed for the afternoon siesta from 12.15 to 3pm but the gate was open so were able to have a quick rekky and pick a spot. It was a medium sized campsite with chalets around a grassy area, no statics and quite a few motorhomes and tents pitched up already. When the reception opened we were charged 20.14 euros to stay as again it is still high season in France and the low season ACSI charge of 16 euros does not come in until tomorrow.

Free WiFi but only in the reception area so we did not get chance to get on line. The plots were of a good size and marked out by hedging. We had an apple tree behind us full of ripe juicy fruit and nearby what looked like some kind of nuts and hazlenuts that we recognised. Our neighbours Italians with a dog and some Dutch and a dinky toy French caravan so small you could hardly fit a doll in it. There was no hardstanding but this was not a problem as there was no sign of rain. No restaurant on site but it was possible to order a take away pizza. The bells from the local church donged all afternoon as there was a wedding going on. Bells canu in Welsh – that means to sing and sometimes that sounds a better word to describe their sounds than in English. If you like bell ringing they do sing.

There was a small swimming pool but I for one was not going to brave the cold to try it out. The shower block was large and had good big cubicles but the water did go everywhere and it was the devils own job trying to keep clothes dry as you showered. Tea was bacon and egg with fried bread cooked outside – good old English fare which tasted as if fit for a King.

We spent the evening walking to the bridge. The remains of the Roman part could be seen quite clearly from the bridge parapet. The new medieval bridge had been built on top of the old remains. Young men were fishing in the river, couples sat on benches in the park, an older lady sat reading. We sat and people watched as we do. A man and a woman set up benches and tables, two older men set up a BBQ and the sign proclaimed that there was going to be fete night in the village. We wished we could have worked out when it started but there seemed no clues. Perhaps it was something private and we wouldn’t have been welcome. Looking round though the whole scene reminded me that we have lost this style of life in Britain. It felt more like the 50’s back home that 2013. We have lost such a lot and how I wish we could regain a lifestyle like this again. Perhaps this is why so many of us Brits move to France or Italy to regain that which we have lost.

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Photos

Yvre L'Eveque
The Roman/medieval bridge

Rouen
A bridge over the Seine

Yvre L'Eveque
Sion on the bridge with some idiot he picked up