ROSCOFF ISOLATION

 It seems to take forever to get light this morning plus there is the usual early morning rain.

We only have a short drive directly north towards Roscoff with a short stop at the service point in Penze.  It’s as pretty and tranquil as ever and we consider staying here for the day but guess if we want to get a space in Roscoff we cannot wait until Saturday morning.

For once the river is nearly full, instead on being mudflats, and scores of white birds are gathered on the shore waiting to feed on the ebb.

Farmers are obviously busy now, in place the road is slick with mud carried out of the fields by tractor tyres and just after we turn off at the Perhardy sign we see the pickers stooping to cut cauliflowers.

To our surprise when we reach the aire there are only three vans, or rather two vans and a Concord mobile mansion.  The east part of the aire has a temporary fence with signs saying reserved car parking for the nearby nutritional school.

The estuary is full of blue water with a windsurfer trying hard but not going very far or fast.

We get online and complete the border control forms then do little for the afternoon.  More vans arrive and there are periods of heavy rain, after one shower the sun emerges and casts a full rainbow over the bay right down to the wet sand.

Despite being as lovely as usual in Roscoff and the aire filling through the day, the number of people actually out and about and the number of cars are way lower than normal.

  

PIZZA N'EST PAS LA

Another night of rain but dry when we get up.  Today’s drive should be simple, up the motorway for a bit then north cross country.

We are away in good time, join the motorway and make good progress.  Traffic is much busier in Brittany now than many other places and large stretches of the motorway are flanked by industrial zones.  There are still some fabulous views in places, high on the rolling hills with rotund woodland stretching as far as the eye can see.  There are three options for exits to follow the tourist route, we take the third near Chateaulin.  The first town off the motorway is Henvic and at Henvic’s first crossroads is a ‘Deviation’ sign - here we go again.

It’s a pretty deviation, winding up and down through lush farms with multi-coloured cattle or fields tinged mauve with onion flowers.  Near Sizun [a ‘parish close’ we visited a long time ago] the road widens and is newly surfaced making a joyful drive through browning woods and bracken.  Autumn has obviously come much earlier in Brittany than further south.

It’s not long before we reach St Thegonnec, another of the ‘parish closes’ towns of this area.  We’ve been here before too, visiting the beautifully carved granite church and its restored interior painting works.  Parish Closes were like tiny sovereign states, self sufficient and officiated by the church, often earning revenue from textile manufacture.

The aire is quite busy but its hedged bays mean no overcrowding, and the number of vans might mean that the regular Thursday pizza van will be here this evening.

After a tuna salad lunch we spend most of the afternoon taking things easy.

An email from Brittany Ferries confirms our sailing for Sunday and includes a link to the passenger locator form that we have to fill in for border control, but we can only do it within 48 hours of arrival.  We wonder what happens if you don’t have a smartphone, but we do, so we will comply.

Covid’s wicked curse strikes again in the evening, unsurprisingly really, when the pizza van doesn’t come, but we have a supermarket one self isolating in the fridge so we get our pizza anyway.

HUMP BRIDGE HUMP

 It rained heavily all night, stopping around 08:00

As the sun comes up the trees along the canal are bathed in low light creating, through the soft mist, a scene worthy of a fine watercolour painting.  Ali rushes out to get a photo but gets her jeans caught on a bungee hook by the door, by the time she has released it the moment has passed without being caught on camera [or the scene...]

We use the service point, next to an old machinery house.  These buildings always look the same: a few courses of stone base then big, slab sided walls pierced with tall, cast iron framed windows and a pitched slate roof.

Narrow lanes lead us back to the main road but after only a few miles we encounter a long ‘deviation’ for roadworks around Rouans.  The country roads are colourful, glistening wet in the sunshine from the recent rain.

After a fuel stop we approach the St Nazaire bridge, still operating the experimental lane control we encountered in 2016.  

From the top we can see a monstrous cruise ship MSC VIRTUOSA nearing completion.  We wonder if something so big might prosper in post Covid cruising, the operating crew numbers - deck/engine - vary little between ships and hotel/hospitality crew is a ratio to passengers.  Big ship at one third capacity, plenty of social distancing in public areas, reduced hotel crew, nett operating costs similar to smaller ships [bar fuel] and they’re in a better position than smaller ships will be.  

We planned a route through the salt marshes but after the bit of dual carriageway we enter the first of a continuous string of villages, each competing for the ‘Most Aggressive Speed Bump Award - 2020’.  Sub categories include ‘Smallest Roundabout’, ‘Narrowest Pinch Point’ and ‘Slowest Bin Wagon’.  And they’re not even pretty villages!

We stop in the last one, St Joachim, to recover from this Dakar Rally simulator and hold down a sandwich.  In 3 hours we have travelled 41 miles only.

The ‘green route’ north from here turns out to be very pretty, partly through the marshes, sometimes through woody patches with lots of red virginia creeper, before we join the N165 west.

The miles start to click over quickly now but we have been so badly held up we consider whether to stop on the coast south of Vannes or in Hennebont, but press on towards Quimperle.

When the satnav leads us past the Quimperle east sign we are unperturbed, but when we come off west and continue west Ali questions where we are going, insisting the aire is east of town.   Nick, who has the hump with delays and busy traffic, forgets that he had programmed an aire near Quimperle, not in it.  We reprogramme and find it is 5 miles back through the city.  Last time we came here in 2008 it was a quiet sort of place but the teatime traffic is manic and it takes half an hour.  We arrive and park in the small aire and it dawns that this has 2-3 places which is why we were going to ‘rue de Quimperle - le Trevoux’ 4 miles north west of the city.  Ali suggest we could go if we want; answer not printable.

It’s a secluded little spot though with a babbling brook beside us and lots of birds singing around us.  Ali crosses the bridge and finds lovely views of the river.

After coffee, then beer all is calm and we have a tasty salmon and pesto supper.

A DIFFERENT LOCK-DOWN

 Parking under trees in autumn has consequences, the randomly patterned fallen leaves on the skylights look like William Morris wallpaper. 

There is light rain as we leave Gencay heading north towards Poitiers then as we sway right and  left at a roundabout the oil light comes on for a few seconds, obviously needing a top up.  With no oil in the locker we  have to divert into Leclerc in Poitiers to get some.  By the time we have parked and shopped and topped up the oil and threaded back to the main road over an hour has been lost.

It’s now the familiar journey up the motorway past Briessure and Parthenay where the dual carriageway ends.  A fierce crosswind and convoys of trucks throw Mary*Lou around badly.  We won’t be alone, there is a surprisingly high number of motorhomes on the road as there was yesterday. 

We stop near Chiche for lunch as the rain clears, and soon after restarting our journey we enter the Muscadet wine region.  The vineyards are looking lovely, the autumn golds and reds of the leaves almost translucent, glowing in the weak sun.  Miles pass uneventfully until we exit at Vallet, three miles from our intended stop, but roadworks and a distracting comment from Ali has Nick taking the wrong exit on a roundabout and heading straight back to the motorway.  Snoopy recalculates a 12 mile round trip so we pull into a layby and look for other stops - no point going backwards.

Twenty miles on, requiring nearly 15 on the peripherique sud Nantes we leave the motorway and follow narrow leafy lanes to the canalside at le Pellerin, by the lock at la La Martiniere.

The canal was built in 1892, 15km in length but now used for ‘hydraulic regulation’.  Around the basin are autumnal trees and a large grassy park.  Old buoys and mooring gear line the wharves, now closed off with narrow road bridges.  The other side of the park the Loire estuary sees barges and small ships rumbling between Nantes and the sea.  

A tractor chugs by in front of the van with a small pony trotting behind, a slack rope between them.

By evening there are 8-10 motorhomes scattered around the various parking areas.

A lovely little spot only a short  way out of the bustle of Nantes and one we’ll likely visit again with more time to explore.

EVERYTHING LOOKS SO NORMAL...

 After shutting down the house and giving Christian the keys we set off around 13:30, but don’t get far.  Ali walks to the bins with some rubbish while Nick drives down behind but Ali remembers she hasn’t closed the drive gates so walk back.  The duck pond, so hard a few weeks ago is now full of clear water reflecting the autumn trees and sky.  We don’t get  far again, seeing Ash and Malc in their drive we stop for a chat before heading to Lathus for a bite to eat and fill with water.

It’s 18C as we drive to Montmorillon and on to Lussac, all looking green and pretty.   We turn off towards Gencay just in time to catch up with a strange 3-wheeled tractor carrying a load of tarmac.  The road has been gravelled recently and we follow it in a cloud of dust, past fields of sheep or dead sunflowers.  A few miles after crawling through Verneres it turns off and we have a clear view again.  We come into Gencay the same way as earlier this month and easily find the lakeside parking.

The lake is looking beautiful, smooth water reflecting autumnal trees and silver birch beneath a blue sky streaked with little white clouds.  Walkers, some led by dogs, do circuits of the bank and a family is having a picnic.  Ducks fly above the lake, often in threes, like fighter squadrons scrambling, woodpeckers laugh noisily in the trees behind, barnacle geese strut as they patrol the picnic area and a heron stands motionless.  In the shallows a pair of coypu slip through the water causing a tiny ripple on the glassy surface.

With all this beauty right before us it’s easy, just for a moment, to forget the unseen enemy, the havoc and disruption, the scares and the restrictions that coronavirus is heaping on this beautiful world.

The sun sets with a pink glow and no doubt will rise again tomorrow.

WELCOME HOME

We sleep in a bit later than intended, use the service point and set off on our last bit of convoy travelling, with 32 miles and 1.25 hours on the satnav, not that we need it from here.

Blue sky, more corn and sunflowers and rising temperatures accompany us along the way.  The river is sparkling as we cross the bridge into Lussac les Chateaux, where we paused for lunch 20 weeks ago.

Montmorillon is quiet and once we turn off towards the village we don’t pass another car the whole nine miles.  Entering the village we see work being done on the chateau walls and the gate is open.

Then a real treat; driving into our lane another field of sunflowers, 100m from home.

Pulling in beside the house all is looking well, thanks to Steve and his mower.  Sure there is lots of weeding and strimming, but nothing like the jungle we feared.

Ali opens up the house and finds the power has been interrupted at some point and the [minimal] contents, fruit from last year’s harvest and a small amount of meat has leaked across the floor.  It’s unpleasant but soon mopped up, although we decide to leave the house air and stay in the van tonight.  The temperature peaks at 32c meaning cold beers are welcome.

Christian comes over from No.6 with all of our mail they have kept for us, and he says he is pleased we are back and healthy.

We enjoy a lovely return home meal of caprese, steak with salad and French fries finished with tiramisu.

All is good, all quiet save for the contented clucks of Christian’s chickens going to roost, and as the sun turns the sky blood red, the evening chorus of frogs.

ANGERS [TRAFFIC] MANAGEMENT

A really peaceful night’s sleep, awaking to the rustle of the trees around us.

The river is a perfect mirror reflecting a myriad of greens from the trees and grassy banks. A couple of campers amble towards the river with fishing rods, apparently carp is common here.

Nick carefully programmes both satnavs to take us on the outermost route around Angers, as we know the normal ‘rocade’ [ring road] is often manic.

We set off and enjoy the scenery of our southerly loop, with frequent views of the river along shady avenues, until we get to the outskirts of Pont Ce and our exit from a roundabout is marked ‘Route Barre 700m’.  The satnav says to turn off in 700 yds so we follow other traffic towards the closure, which we reach before our turn off.  The only option is through the supermarket car park and follow the deviation signs.  It would help if they marked ‘Deviation Paris’, ‘Deviation Angouleme’ etc so you have an idea where you’re going, but no.

Fifteen minutes round the houses we arrive back at the roundabout.  Trying to programme Snoopy is fruitless, he hasn’t a clue the road is closed and just bongs at every ‘wrong’ turn.  We try to get to the toll-free section of the A87, east of us but south out of Angers, but just go in circles due to the avoid-toll settings which think all of A87 is toll.  Once more we return to the closed roundabout, backtrack where we came in and take the narrow road through the centre of Pont Ce.  Our arrival time is now showing 70 minutes later than it did when we started. 

Anyway, it’s a good job we stopped early yesterday, as our intended stop was Port Maillard, south east of Angers and would have used this non-route.

Back on familiar roads past Brissac Quince, where we stop for lunch, and Montrieul Bellay we enter the Loire vineyards, looking lush and green in the sunshine and promising a good crop.

South of the vineyards there are acres, no, square miles of golden cornfield and sunflowers.  We stop a number of times to enjoy the scenery together for a few minutes, you cannot share it from separate vehicles, and Ali misses the higher viewpoint from the van.  The sunflowers become a yellow blur as we drive past, every head facing the sun.

Eventually we see the first Montmorillon sign, but decide that getting home is just a bit too far with all our delays so we take the two mile detour off the main road to the aire at Nieuil l'Espoir where we stayed 4 years ago.  There are a few other vans in, but fewer than half the places taken.  It’s a hot, sultry evening and once the traffic calms down the sound of swallows is all around.

RADIO GA GA

A lovely sunny start to the morning.  

After the radio interview, with James Churchfield, we plan today’s route, drive into town for ‘Beetle juice’ and rejoin the N12 to Rennes.

Traffic is light until we skirt Rennes and take the road towards Janze.  We’ve decided not to flog the distances this time so it’s a steady run, mostly dual carriageway, through golden fields, cream coloured cattle and a couple of stretches of sunflowers.  Summer in France as beautiful as ever

.  

We stop near Pouance for lunch then it’s less than 30 miles to the aire at Grez Neuville, where we stayed on our way to Italy in 2017.  It is a lovely spot, shaded by trees with the wide, slow river Mayenne drifting by.

After a week of checking, packing and fretting in case of cancellations, it is time to soak up the atmosphere, chill out and relax. 

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Annick’s drive is a sloping turning space with a 1 in 4 descent between stone walls to the main road.  Mary Lou’s brakes are rusty and Nick hasn’t driven anything except a corkscrew since February.  It’s a nervy three point turn and a grinding noise down between the narrow stone walls and we are back on the road, Ali following in her Beetle.

We stop in Landivisiau to visit SuperU.  The checkout has distancing markers and the clerk wears a mask, but there are no one way systems or screens.  Then, French supermarkets are never as busy as UK ones either.

We have a sandwich, refuel the van and head back to the N12.  Traffic is quite busy and with the shopping time added we decide our planned destination is too far today so we stop at Caulnes, in a park near the old wash house.  Ali finds a message inviting us to an interview on Radio Cornwall tomorrow, so she rings presenter, Julie Skentelbery, to accept.

Our neighbours, Clive and Theresa, call us on a video chat and Ali takes the phone outside to show them around.

Four more vans arrive over the hour, kids in the park finish their games and we are left with the evening birdsong and lovely sunshine.  It is still daylight when we turn into bed.

WELL HELLO MARY LOU

Armorique arrives in Roscoff eleven hours later, by which time we have had our Club Voyage complimentary breakfast.

Disembarkation is called in colour groups defined by a coloured square on the boarding cards.  We leave the ship, clear customs and drive into Roscoff to tidy the things [overnight bag, wheelchair, sticks] we threw into the car on the car deck.

It’s just over an hour to Annick’s house where Mary*Lou has been stored since February.  Elijah has washed her for us and apart from cobwebs and a bag of vegetable slime all is well inside.  We get the electric hooked up and start charging the battery.  Annick has hurt her back and needs rest, plus with us being tired we abandon plans of going into their house for lunch, but she sends Elijah out with a spag-bol that we just have to warm through.

After lunch we decide to try the engine.  Nick turns the key, the engine turns over sluggishly three times then fires and she’s running sweetly.

Later we inflate the tyres, flush and fill the water tank and wash the fridge ready for use.

Supper comes out of a jar from the back of the cupboard, a pork cassoulet we bought on a France Passion, with a couple of glasses of wine.  Tired out but relieved to finally be back with the van results in a long, deep sleep.

POST VIRAL ESCAPE

Anything and everything that can be crammed into Ali’s Beetle has been.  We leave home at around 16:45, sent on our way by flag-waving Clive, Theresa and Bet.

Just afterTrerulefoot roundabout we stop and eat our pasties then continue to the Torpoint ferry, cross the Tamar and head into Millbay.

Check in is unusual, we are asked if we have masks and when we confirm we have we are told we should be wearing them.  We said we expected to have to leave them off for passport control but are told they can tell by a person’s eyes.

At security everyone in the car ahead of us is asked to leave the vehicle while they inspect inside.  When our turn comes the guard sees Nick’s wheelchair sticker and tells us he won’t be searching ours.

Only two cars have 9P stickers and we are both directed onto Armorique’s Deck 5 by the lifts. A crew member takes the other car’s passengers in one lift while we go in another, straight to our cabin 9118.  Everyone in public spaces must wear a mask.

We are parched so Ali fetches us some beer and at 22:00 Armorique casts off.

It’s a choppy crossing and whether it is aided by excitement or relief, we don’t sleep well.

FULL CIRCLE

Rain in the night and drizzly first thing but the sun is out when we get up, although it comes and goes with cloud.
All the vans were away early apart from the French one that was here when we arrived and the owner turns out to be English when he comes past walking his dog.
Ali walks down to the weir again and sees another coypu coming out from the bank and swimming around.

We enjoy the peace and quiet until after lunch then set off for home only 16 miles away.  All is well at the house but it is very windy.  To check if the leisure battery will charge properly we connect hook up and stay in the van for the night.
Our short fact finding trip has been really enjoyable and it's strange to think that in a week we've done less than 300 miles and never been more than about an hour and a half from home.

WEIR-D DAY

Despite healthy voltages when we turned in last night the leisure battery is well down again this morning, probably due to the cold.  Yesterday we were in clear space so the sun soon got onto the solar panel but this morning we are shaded by a row of high trees.  We wait until 09:30 then run the engine for 10-12 minutes and all is OK.
An hour later, while we are having breakfast, the kayakers arrive and start running the course but by the time Ali goes across with her camera they are finishing.
We want to go via St Savin which means going back through Angles-sur-l'Anglin although today we expect to see the usual 'Toutes Direction' [all routes] sign for a peripheral road, but no, it's back through the narrows like yesterday. Then we come to the chateau, glowing a warm sandstone colour in the sunshine, so we pull in for some photos. We also discover there is are dedicated moho parking spaces nearby.

The chateau is atop of some craggy rocks and what are signed as footpaths are rough steps hewn into the rock more suited to Sherpa evaluation trials than casual visitors.  Opposite the chateau is the sunny terrace of a restaurant, le Donjon du Bacchus, offering crepes and mulled wine on the blackboard of the day.  This is definitely somewhere to spend more time in warmer weather.
No doubt the couple, hatted and scarved, who power up the hill with the throaty sound of their Austin Healey 3000 roadster echoing off the stonework, would also like a warmer day.
We leave Angles-sur-L'Anglin, passing the weir at the bottom of the hill, and follow bouncy roads through soggy farmland with either rich, brown soil or vibrant green shoots of new crops all the way to St Savin, a town we visited a couple of years ago.  On that day we went inside the church and saw the amazing painted patterns on the columns and walls as well as the beautifully painted ceiling, but today we want to see the other side, the back of the abbey and the Roman bridge.

The abbey and church back onto a wide stretch of the river Gartempe the other side of which is a paddock where donkeys and sheep are grazing.  In today's sunshine we see the detailing of the buildings which was lost in the gloomy greyness of our previous visit.  Likewise, the Roman bridge shows up its detail with the pale stone arches reflecting in the water.
A short way from St Savin we stop in Antigny, another of the little timewarp villages so common in this region.
The village green, now surrounded by pollarded trees, was one the graveyard and in its centre is a lantern du mort or funeral chimney.

 Opposite the green, the little Romanesque church, according to the information board, has walls with paintings dated back to the 15th C and research indicates the existence of a people being on its site in the 1st C.  Sadly a notice on the church door says it is kept locked for security.  Behind the church the Gartempe thunders over another of its many weirs.

We continue towards Lussac-les-Chateaux along a badly deformed road more suited to Italy than France, but it is an attractive ride through the woods of the Bois de Borgogne.  Once in Lussac-les-Chateaux we find the aire in the busy central car park.  It would be fine for visiting the town but we fancy something more attractive for a night stop.  There is another place near the municipal campsite a mile away on the riverbank. We arrive and immediately double the number of vehicles in the car park, the only other one being a French moho.
Ali takes a recce along the path to the old bridge and yet another weir [we've lost count of weirs today].  Notices tell of strong resistance activity during 1943-44 and the ambush of a German convoy on the bridge with numerous casualties for both sides.
Before the sun sets behind the trees we are joined by five more mohos plus an ancient but tidy Kermit green Mercedes truck serving a young family on their travels.

COME INTO MY GARDEN

Quiet as could be all last night and a return to bright sunshine this morning.
The recent cold has meant lots of heating therefore high gas consumption.  The nearest LPG is at Chatellerault. 
We follow the scenic route towards Barrou.  In places catkins are hanging thickly on the trees and a few other trees have blossom of some sort plus huge clumps of Mistletoe in the trees, something we have seen loads of this week is enough to make your lips numb! 

Signs of an early spring, perhaps.
The scenery today has changed again, it's quite hilly and the fields are smaller areas, hedged or walled with scattered farmsteads and barns.  At Barrou we stop by the bridge to watch the river flowing over a small weir.

Chatellerault is an ugly sprawl as we approach but the LPG is at a huge Leclerc on the edge of town.  Being so big, the kiosk is not closed for lunch and we get our gas and diesel with no hold ups.  While we are here Ali goes in to get a torch as we left the usual one behindat the house.
We head back on another scenic route towards La Roche Posay and head to the camperstop coordinates to stop for lunch, but the 'picnic area' turns out to be a private car park for the hotel/restaurant with 'non-residents will be towed away' notices.  The other car park only allows motorhomes overnight.  It's a pity, we'd like to have seen some of this thermal town but will have to find another way another time.  We bounce along a poorly surfaced lane back to the main road and head for the next town, Yzeures-sur-Creuse, where a few squeezy streets between once grand but now flaking buildings lead us into a large, newly surfaced car park.  We have the choice of any of the eighty or so spaces, it's completely empty.
After sandwiches we set off for Vicq-sur-Gartemp, out through a couple more tiny streets into the main part of Yzeures-sur-Creuse, where the roads are much more suited to our width.
The mid afternoon sun is casting soft contrast light over the fields, sparkling off the river as we drive alongside and adding a gloss to the wet, dark brown, recently ploughed soil.
We enter Vicq-sur-Gartemp across a pretty stone bridge and find the camperstop. 
Ali takes a walk back to the town hoping to pick up a few leaflets so that we will know what to come back to another time.
She stops to photograph a grand art nouveau house and sees a woman working in the garden.  They get chatting and the woman invites Ali to look around the garden and apologises that she cannot see inside today.  The garden has a micro-climate and there are roses and jasmine in bloom plus palm trees.  She explains the house, called 'Villa des Iles' was built in 1908 by M.+Mme Guyard to a design by F Milord [born in Angles sur Anglin] who was the architect for Chatellerault.  Inside there are collections and decorations in art nouveau and art deco styles.

The woman gives Ali some pamphlets about the house and says there are occasions when the inside is open to the public.  The house, as its name suggests, is surrounded by water and tiny islands where Ali watches a beaver or coypu swimming in the confluence of waters.  Near the water is a tree with purple catkins.
The aire is not an unpleasant place but the service point has long been out of service.  Since we are only 8 miles from Tournon St Martin, where we know the services work, we decide that will suit us better.
On the way we drive through Angles-sur-Anglin with more very narrow streets, which probably look lovely in summer as it is an award winning ville fleurie or flower town.
We escape without meeting any traffic and drive past more small farms and reach Tournon just as the sun is turning hazy and watery.

We park along from another moho, the fifth we've seen today and more than we've seen all week.  Screens up, oven on, drinks poured and the sound of water over the weir across the road.
Funny to think we're only 4 or 5 miles from where we stayed on Tuesday.

THE IRON ROAD

Warmer this morning, plus 2C!  But as predicted there is thick, low cloud.

Thenay is on the edge of St Gaultier and our route today takes us right through the centre of the main town, partly through a pedestrian-priority zone.  Cobbled humps, rain gulleys and general undulations make it feel like a 4x4 test track even at walking speed until we come out into the main square. Ali spots a boulangerie with a parking space so we stop and eye up its window display.  Minutes later she comes out with baguette, mini-quiches for lunch, fruit tartlets for supper and croissants for tomorrow's breakfast.

Leaving St Gaultier we head north west, bisecting yesterday's route through the lakes, which today are dull and grey so we are glad we made the best of yesterday's sunshine.

From Mezieres-en-Brenne there are fewer lakes and woods with the landscape turning into rolling, pale green fields reminding us of the Somme region. We learn that the lakes were man made by the extraction of peat for charcoal, much like the lakes around Long in the Somme, plus some iron mining. Perhaps iron gave some lakes, like Mer Rouge we saw yesterday, a red tinge.

We stop in Azay-le-Feron for lunch and a quick peek at the outside of its 15th C chateau, which is closed until March.  Ali is holding her camera up to snatch a picture over the iron gate when a teacher, with a school party, asks if he can put a child on his shoulders to take the picture for her.  Offer declined.  

'le Feron', not surprisingly, indicates that the town was once a centre for the iron industry, with iron being extracted as late as the 19th C.  Azay is a derivation of aqua, perhaps from the lakes left after mining.

The map marks a scenic section from Preuilly-sur-Claise to Abilly and there is an aire at Le Grand Pressigny.  It's definitely a pretty route; more Somme-like rolling plains, a bit of woodland

and some attractive houses and farmsteads along the way.

Just before Le Grand Pressigny we drive below the imposing walls of the chateau.

The aire a large tarmac area outside the municipal campsite which is closed now, as is the service point, but a notice tells us we could get 1€ tokens from the marie if we wanted to use the campsite amenities block.

It's a peaceful spot and we spend the remaining part of the afternoon reading.

Later Ali wins a game of Rummikub.

NOT LAC-KING IN BEAUTY

Another sub zero night and when we poke our noses over the covers it's only 7C inside!  On with the heating. Jack Frost has been all over the windows making a mess like a Banksy at Iceland.

By the time we're up, warm, fed, looked through yesterday's photos, planned a route for today and have used the service point it is approaching midday.

The weather is forecast to be sunny so we plan to make use of the good light and zigzag around the lakes of the Brenne National Park.

From Benevant we follow a single track road across open grassland to Poulingy St Pierre then onto a lovely main road to Luriel before turning off to Linge, where the lakes start in earnest.

The first few are small or distant, some just managed fishing pools but then there are larger ones shimmering blue in the sunshine and surrounded by golden reed beds.  

We park in St Michel on Brenne next to a grand house with moat, before turning south towards Gabriere. 

Now there is water to be seen everywhere, more blue fringed with gold and surrounded by lush pasture which is grazed variously by white cattle, goats and heavy horses.  There are quite a few places selling cheese, mostly sheep or goat. The narrow roads are edged with deep drainage ditches but there is hardly any traffic to be concerned with.

We pull into the car park of a random 'etang'.  A man gets out of his car with a bazooka sized lens on his camera, suggesting some serious twitching is nigh, and sure enough just down the path is a timber hide  complete with a low viewing hatch reserved for wheelchairs. There are a few egrets and herons but it's too early for the full on bird reserve.

A few miles on we reach le Bouchet, a sturdy little time-warp of a farming village.  We stop for lunch looking over a typical sunken sheep fold scooped out among a few trees.   Nearby there are more heavy horses and birds include green woodpeckers, heron and a couple of eagles.

Around the corner is a chateau, not open to visitors until March.

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Just outside le Bouchet is etang de la mer rouge but it isn't a red sea today.  Never mind, today is all about recce-ing the area and mer rouge has walkways and observation posts designed for wheelchairs.

We leave the single track roads at Ronsay and head for Migne.  Along the way is a ring of massive radio masts ahead and as we get closer there are no stopping and no photography signs.  The Marines communications base is visible from the road, but the double perimeter fence with wide no-man's-land runways indicate that security is taken very seriously.

At Migne we stop near the sandstone, Romanesque church to find our nightstop.  There are three possibles: La Peroiulle, Luant or Neuillay-les-Bois. The last is noted as closed until March so we choose La Perouille which is near a lake.  We wind through the village and alon a single track road to find the entrance sealed with barrier tape. Luant then, a pleasant drive through pretty lakeland in lowering sun, but it too is chained off.  We could stay in the park car park but it's shaded by trees and close to the road. Looking in the books the irony is that Thenay - considered yesterday - is only 11 miles away so we head there. Out on the main road we see three or four aire signs for the two closed ones, which begs the question, if they can rig tape and anchor chain to block them off, couldn't they pop out and put bags over the signs?

In St Gualtier we cross the river which is turning mauve in the setting sun and are shortly afterwards parking at the dead end of a road - literally.  At least there shouldn't be any noise from the adjacent grave yard….

CREUSE-ING ALONG

Nestled in the bowl below the barrage means we wake up to minus 2C.  The heavy frost has coated the grass and trees and everything else with white, making the rocks below the barrage look like a frozen waterfall.

We're in no rush to move and it's 11:00 by the time the temperature has a 'plus' in front of the number and we set off.

The road climbs away from the river through thick woodland where, through the bare trees, we get a sighting of Chateau de Chateaubrun. 

A turn off the main road drops and climbs again to the little town of Gargilesse where we stop to look over the valley at the pale stone church.  A couple of houses have Spanish style enclosed balconies. Through narrow streets and down to a bridge, we cross the river Creuse and climb to the viewpoint at Boucle le Pin.  We know boucle means bend, especially when applied to rivers, but this boucle has a special feature: a noticeboard describes it as the join between two different geological areas, the Granite Gneiss and the Paris Basin.  Sure enough we can see the hard rocky outcrops of granite on one side of the valley and the sheared yellow ochre faces on the other.

It's a beautiful, sunny drive through more forest and in places alongside the Creuse before we reach Perchereaud and detour into Carrefour for a few supplies.  Driving through the town there are some grand houses backing onto the river, some with crazy-paving patterned stone walls and brick detail, others styled like mini chateaux.

Perchereaud merges seamlessly into Argenton-sur-Creuse where we pull in beside the river for lunch.  The water looks, at first, quite smooth but is is flowing quite quickly and there are a few eddies and tiny whirlpools from the undertow.  Occasionally the water is disturbed by fish breaking the surface to catch flies.

Our planned stop at Thenay is only six miles away and because it is still sunny and a bit early to stop we find another aire listed at Ouilches.  We follow the main road towards Le Blanc then turn off cross country to Ouiches. We are out of the woods now on a small road with open fields all around and sunshine beating through the windows.  

We reach Ouilches, an attractive little village with a simple stone church and stone houses with charcoal coloured woodwork.  Some houses have balconies like little wicket gates on upstairs windows. Best laid plans etc…. The aire is being resurfaced, barriers, workmen, trucks and tarmac spreaders are using up the marie's latest lump of funding. 

Plan C:  Not far from Le Blanc we know of two nice aires, Tournon St Martin we have used two or three times, and Fontembault which we have passed but not stayed at.

The road from Le Blanc is familiar, running alongside a jagged rock face on the right and the flood plain on our left.  We reach Fontembault and park in the empty aire looking across 100m of green grass to the river.

Nearby is a boulangerie with a constant two or three customers' cars in the parking area at a time.  Must be good so Ali wanders across and comes with a few treats, including some buns called 'Paris Brests'. Ali wonders at the name.  Nick says it comes either from a mis-spelled act at the Follies Bergeres or perhaps they were a speciality on a notable train running between those places.  Ali favours the train idea because there were toy trains next to the till.

We later find it was created a representation of a wheel requested by Pierre Giffard for the 1910 Paris-Brest-Paris cycle race.  The choux pastry with praline cream filling became a favourite with cyclists because of its high calorific value. Tastier for cyclists than ketamine or corticosteriod too!

Once the sun goes down it cools rapidly again and it just 4C by the time Ali dishes up our dinner of baked dorade on a bed of fennel, tomato, onion and pepper. Rations can be sparse on the road…

Never mind, Paris Brest for dessert.

DAM GOOD STOP

MON 20 JAN 2020       

We have been wanting to get away for over a week and finally this afternoon we do.  The transfers from the house are done; food, clothes etc and we set off after lunch in bright sun but only 5c.

The recent winds have completely stripped every leaf from every tree now and the bark is showing brightly against fresh green grass and a blue sky with little puff ball clouds.

Towards Lussac les Eglises there are lots of sheep and it's a joy to be out on the road again, even though we don;t plan on going a huge distance.  The nearby countryside is so lovely we just want a few days exploring our own area.

We approach St Benoit du Sault with its pale brown buildings appearing stacked as they follow the rise of the hill,  The road climbs and turns among them levelling at the top of the town where we were told there was a nice aire. Perhaps it has changed because what we find is one sloping, car-sized space beside a service point in a busy car park.  'twould do, as they say, but not the peace and solitude we wanted so we get out he books and find somewhere better. We find three possibilities, all close together, near Cuzion.

It's a pretty continuation along a road marked a a scenic route ending in a steep descent with hairpins and along the river Creuse to the barrage d'Eguzon.  The aire is a tree lined space on the river's edge where it resumes its flow after powering electricity turbines in the adjacent EDF facility. The barrage, or dam, beside the power station holds back the water of lac Eguzon, which we might take a look at tomorrow.

But as the sun disappears behind the trees we're glad we moved as there is only the trickling of the river and the faintest hum of the power plant to be heard.