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

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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.