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Published: August 22nd 2009
Footprints
Going where the wind takes usMotorhome News from Europe 1.
France. September 1st 2004
D Day, The Loire Valley and French Chateaux
Rouen - Chartres - Chambord - Villesavin - Cheverny - Chaumont - Chenenceaux - Amboise (Clos de Luce) - Azay-le-Rideau - Dordogne Valley
This trip has been so long in the planning it is hard to believe it has finally begun. Janice has been persuaded to retire from teaching a handful of years early, our house rented out for three years to the highest bidder and all our furniture and chattels safely stored. There’s no turning back now, our new home is on four wheels, a little over 6m long and 2.5m wide, powered by a 2.8 turbo diesel and sparkling white. Smiley, our Autotrail motorhome, has been gradually packed over the last month: clean sheets and pillows, pots and pans, gas bottles filled to the brim, water tanks flushed and sterilised, fridge and cooker spotlessly clean and a final polish - it’s our pride and joy.
You’ll have guessed by now we are not new to the nomadic life of motorhoming, with a number of holiday seasons and a few thousand miles already behind us in the UK
Smiley
..our trusty Autotrail motorhome and across the water in France. If all goes to plan, the first half of our travels will take us some 35,000 miles, to the far points of Europe, to the west, north and south, before taking off to circumnavigate North America in January 2006 in a 40,000 mile clockwise circle through the USA and Canada. Join us, the ‘grey haired nomads’, and our dear friend and bear, Todd, a leaving gift from Janice’s school, as we venture forth with pens poised and cameras clicking.
Our journey began somewhat tentatively with a drive of a few yards across the road to spend the night with our neighbours Jane and Geoff, parked in their garden ready for an early take-off for the Dover - Calais Ferry the following morning. A fish and chip supper with friends marked the end of an English summer, sitting outside until the damp evening air drove us into the conservatory, glittering as it does all year, with fairy lights. That damp English evening and copious quantities of red wine marked the beginning of autumn and a new life as nomads, unsure where tomorrow will take us.
D-Day (Departure Day) dawned misty, following
Chartres
Delightful Chartres a cold, moonlit night. Autumn was definitely on its way. But soon the sun came out to accompany us on our way towards Dover. The 75 minute crossing to Calais passed in a flash with barely time to read the second chapter of Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charley”, totally appropriate and inspirational. We would come closer to Steinbeck on the second phase of our journey, in North America. First though, we were heading for the Loire Valley, one part of France we have passed-by on previous journeys.
An hour disappeared somewhere over the Channel, so it was apparently 3.30pm (we always forget to change our watches) by the time we left Calais, cautiously at first, on the wrong side of the road and getting accustomed to the French traffic once again. The motorway whisked us effortlessly as far as Rouen, where the city road system defeated us and we took ages to find our way to a camp site at nearby Louviers. Here we realised that September 1st brought low season to French camping. We also realised that motorhome camping is the height of luxury compared to some other travellers. An English couple we chatted to were on their first
ever camping holiday - with a tent - at the age of 60 - and seemingly enjoying every moment. It’s not raining yet!
From Louviers it was a relatively short drive to Chartres. Another very French town, and another very defiant road system with road-works and confusing detours at every turn. Patience prevailed and we were finally able to park by the roadside for free, just beyond the pay and display car-park. The jewel of Gothic architecture, Chartres Cathedral, was just five minutes walk away. We had seen the magnificent two spires on the horizon from several miles out, but closer inspection revealed amazing carvings adorning the north, south and west portals. On walking inside, the first impression was that the soaring Romanesque masterpiece was incredibly dark. Little light was able to enter because all the magnificent windows were stained glass, much of it original we’re led to believe, despite the ravages of WW11. There was certainly a great deal to study and marvel at. The church is at the very heart of every French town.
There’s no point in being in France if you can’t rub shoulders with the French in the odd
café or restaurant. No sooner were these words uttered, than we were having omelettes, frites and salad in the tiny Café des Arts around the corner, its walls adorned with local works of art. If ever you find yourself in Chartres, you must go to this café to visit the loos - floor to ceiling black slate tiles with stainless steel loo and a rectangular steel dish for a hand basin. Spectacular loos? A totally new experience for us in France! They won’t catch on.
The roads between Chartres and Blois were somewhat boring - very straight, occasionally tree lined as in any traveler’s photo album, but more often just flanked by vast fields of gently nodding sunflowers, or maize set for fodder. Now, with autumn at our doorstep, fields of stubble were being burnt, sending up huge plumes of smoke which hung in the air for miles around; a practice long gone in the UK - but that, too, is France. Finally, we came to Blois, a large town on the Loire. The campsite we had in mind for the night was just outside town, but it took us nearly an hour to find the right road. We
realised that everyone finishes work at six, as we sat in traffic jam after traffic jam. However, eventually Smiley took us to Huisseau-sur-Cosson, near Chambord, where he decided to spend the night. This site had only two other campers, discretely parked behind tall, neatly clipped hedges. The patron was very attentive; I think because he didn’t want us to blow up his newly installed electrical system, the campsite clearly quite new or refurbished. The toilets had seats (unheard of in France) but he also charged us €6 to fill our van with water, yet another first in all our traveling experience! (that, too, could only happen in France)
Our visits to the many Loire Chateaux began today, at Chambord. What a delightful turreted architectural gem to begin with! It was very pleasing on the eye from every aspect, especially as several elegant equestrians were putting their equally elegant horses through their paces on the lawns stretching away from the chateau, in preparation for a display later in the day.
Leaving Chambord to its coachloads of Italian tourists, we meandered on to neighbouring Villesavin for our second delight of the day. Here we found a comparatively tiny chateau, in
a state of elegant decay. There were only two or three cars visiting at any time, so it was wonderfully tranquil - until we discovered that we had broken our water pipe by reversing into a slightly inclined grassy bank - another lesson learned. Helplessly we watched our €6 of fresh water drain away into the sand of the car park. Fortunately, we were able to repair the damage with the minimum of effort - and absolutely no swearing! Villesavin was charming, though damp and cobwebs added nothing to some extremely naff exhibitions of wedding memorabilia and carriages.
Onwards to Cheverny, an immaculate village and chateau number three. Cheverny’s white symmetry glowed like fresh snow in the dazzling sunlight, as temperatures soared to a sweltering 31 degrees. We ventured inside to inspect the furnishings, both elegant and tasteful, in surprisingly small rooms. Despite its chunky, massive exterior, this chateau was actually very narrow and we left impressed by its homely, though grand, air. It was surrounded by an enormous estate, most of which consisted of immaculately trimmed lawns, dotted with magnificent specimen trees. Loire’s chateau provide an insight into this country’s past, and a legacy comparable to our National
Amboise
Clos de Luce Trust in everything other than architecture, no less stunning as we were quickly discovering.
The daily 30C heat and common sense prevailed today and we checked into a nearby campsite where we found a pleasant shady pitch amongst the trees, topped up with water, plugged in the electrics for tea and ginger cake, and headed for the pool to cool off. Time for some much needed relaxation.
So many of these chateaux begin with the letter “C” - today it was Chaumont and Chenenceau.
Chaumont is a magnificent castle standing high above the Loire, but we were already learning the lessons of seasoned travelers, realising that tourist attractions can be costly. At €8 to visit the gardens alone, we chose to walk and admire the building and grounds from outside.
But the charm of Chenenceau was too much to resist. Here, we had the full deal of chateaux and jardins. Chenenceau is a ‘must visit’, as it has it all - moat, drawbridge, turrets, vast park, landscaped gardens, forests - everything a fairytale castle should have. Indeed, it is built across the River Cher and looks like a castle on a bridge - which is what it
Clos de Luce
In the gardens of Leonardo's last home is. Such beauty attracts visitors of course and they were all there, cameras clicking alongside ours, cheerful crowds enjoying the stunning sunshine, the castle, the woodland walks, the river and the gardens. By mid-afternoon, feet aching, we left to search out a local campsite by the mill (owned and run by a British couple) for the night. Its main criteria was having a pool to cool off in; and its second best feature was toilets with seats, and toilet paper. How very British! (I’ll bet you really wanted to know that.)
Those who know me well will be aware of my hero, Leonardo da Vinci, noted for his masterpiece, Mona Lisa and his scientific genius. On another scorching day we set off to visit his last home; where he passed away, here in Amboise. The house, Le Clos Lucé, and its gardens totally capture the feeling of da Vinci’s presence - he still walks the corridors! You see this richly furnished Renaissance home where he lived as the guest of King Francois as he would have seen it and you see models of many of his most amazing inventions, most 3 or 4 centuries ahead of his time. Renaissance
The Chateaux of the Loire
Villandry - the kitchen garden music is piped throughout to add to the atmosphere and the sunlight in the trees so enigmatic. Before leaving home, I had completed a diploma in creative writing with the University of East Anglia, and this short piece was one of several poems written over that period. I thought you might enjoy it (but then, perhaps not!).
SMILE (a tribute to Mona Lisa)
I feel this day his gentle touch, to brush my lips,
and lay me down on my bed of wood. I see this day
his furrowed brow, his untamed beard, this man of science
and invention; through the wings of flying bees and down the
barrel of a rattling gun, without so much as raising an eyebrow
to enlighten my audience, five centuries on.
So, look into my eyes and tell me what you see.
Perhaps a faded image of my former self, tarnished now
from years of travel and hanging here, watching you
staring at me with quizzical looks and casting aspersions about my
gender; a lady in silk or man of great knowledge?
But man has always named me as a woman.
How rare it is for me to
see you smile, as you enter right,
then pass before me. But watch my eyes as I give to you this smile,
my gift of wonder and of happiness, bequeathed to Francois
on my maker’s passing. Share the music and the jester, stand and stare,
but do not touch my floating heart of oil, my sfumato lips,
my enigmatic mystery.
Amongst our many hobbies, gardening, as only an Englishman understands it, features high on the list. With this in mind it was impossible to pass our next chateau, this time for its renowned gardens, at Villandry. Unfortunately, it was really too hot to linger too long amongst the formal box-edged gardens, but we were most impressed, especially by the flawless kitchen gardens. We’d never seen purple chilli peppers before. You will be equally impressed should you chance to travel that way.
Having camped overnight on the banks of the River Indre, we visited the fairy-tale castle of Azay-le-Rideau in sweltering heat once more, early the following day, arriving before opening time, 9.30am. A tour group of Germans barged their way through in front of us as only a German tourist group would, but second place is
fine for us - we have all day. The Chateau was beautiful from every angle outside: a delightfully turreted, moated, castle, where one would expect to see a fair princess leaning from an upstairs window, waving, lace hanky in hand, to a handsome knight (on a white horse) below. Inside, the rooms were sparsely furnished and rather uninteresting. The princess and the handsome knight failed to show up while we were there.
It was Monday, the shops in touristy Loches, a fortified medieval town, were mostly closed, this being France, and the town was exceedingly quiet, but we strolled leisurely through the cobbled streets absorbing the atmosphere and admiring the lovely buildings. There is a mellow ambience to the streets of rural France; a tasteful element of gentle decay, awaiting an end that the French believe will never come. The supermarket, Leclerc, was open however and we stocked up on essentials and found time for a cup of tea and contemplate our budget in the car park. We’ve been on the road for 5 and-a-bit days and spent one whole weeks budget. That’s doing the heavyweight touristy bits of course, along with staying at €13 per night campsites, but
Peace
and tranquility. Janice, writing her diary beside the river we’ll look to economise over time. Whilst our heads were down, we checked out our route for the next few days and eventually decided to make our way towards Limoges and the Dordogne, Lot, Tarn area.
Three days of Chateaux had left us feeling rather castled-out, so our thoughts turned to bird-watching, up there near the top of our list of hobbies, and we headed south towards the Brennes wetlands. It was too hot for most of the birds, but we did see two kingfishers that day, always a delight, and drove slowly to a quiet municipal campsite at Chatillon-sur-Indre to enjoy a peaceful evening amongst the poplars. Our visit to the Brennes marshes, a wetland area not unlike the Norfolk Broads (without boats and houses) was rewarded the following day with sightings of those delightful birds, the Whiskered and Black Terns, along with Water Rail, Snipe, Egrets, Slavonian Grebe, Marsh Harriers, Buzzard, Long-tailed tits, and many more. Have also seen deer and red squirrels.
After a day of driving we finally reached Perigord and the Dordogne Valley where the scenery became more dramatic with rolling wooded hills and rocky gorges, reminiscent of Cheddar. We seem to have
Pardoux la Rivierre
....its streets festooned with flowers for a festival found some tourists again; after a couple of very quiet night’s camping, tonight’s site is almost full. Having said that, it is only a small farm site, but it does have a lovely pool with magnificent views. We have been very impressed by the sites we have stayed at so far. All have had good facilities, attractive settings and reasonable prices.
Our drive took us along minor roads to Brantome, renowned for its abbey and belltower. Brantome was crawling with British tourists. It was quite pretty and we had a very good lunch there (pineapple, roquefort and black olive crepes, as a treat for surviving our first week) but I’m not sure why so many tourists were there. Perhaps they were all looking for property to buy as there were estate agents galore, all advertising in English. We much preferred the nearby village of Pardoux la Rivierre, its streets festooned with flowers for a festival of some sort (possibly July 14th, Bastille day and my birthday as it so happens), and a little further along the road, St Jean de Cole, with its ancient stone cottages clustered around a wide sandy square dominated on one side by an 11th century church and a 14th century chateau on the other. Both villages beautiful at every turn, and not a gift shop or tourist to be seen (except us).
We had hoped to stop in Perigeux en route south to e-mail home, but the traffic defeated us, there was nowhere to park and after driving in completely the wrong direction, we finally headed off south. By early evening on another hot, hot, day, we were settled into a good farm campsite with a most welcome pool and beautiful views, just 3km outside Les Eyzies. Sleep came easily that balmy night, serenaded by cicadas amongst sandstone buildings topped with shimmering terracotta tiles.
This is the life.
Next week - The Dordogne and the glorious Lascaux
David and Janice
The Grey Haired Nomads
....and Todd came too
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liliram
liliram
love the poem
I just love it when u guys wax poetic. Your blogs give me my regular dose of culture and vicarious adventure. I have just decided to begin "reading you" from the start, for a better perspective. And found your poem. Lovely.