Our adventure ends in London.

A short flight across the English Channel, and a long wait to get through immigration; 32 counters and only 3 were open- crazy, and we were on our way via the tube to Northfields, our airbnb accommodation for the next 8 days.  After being greeted at the door by our host, James, we were shown to our immaculate spacious room with our very own bathroom in his gorgeous converted apple juice factory apartment, “Orchard Lofts”.

On James’ recommendation, we dumped our suitcases and headed down the street to Mama’s Nepalese Restaurant to the most delicious meal of pappadums and dips followed by chicken breast stuffed with king prawns, accompanied by garlic naan and the most delicious spiced rice. I really didn’t want dessert but couldn’t resist the mango and pistachio kulfi, which we shared.

Back to our airbnb, where James made us feel completely at home with a pot of tea in his beautiful Royal Kent tea set, one of his collection. We managed to summon enough energy for a shower before crashing into a beautifully soft comfy bed. I thought it was too soft to allow me to sleep but I was out to it in seconds. It had been a long day!

We awoke to a bright sunny day and after some wonderful peanut butter and jam toast, headed off to the Laundromat, where we expected to spend the next couple of hours, but were surprised the laundry would be done for us and we could wander the High Street (actually called Northfields Avenue). We stopped at a sweets shop and bought some yoghurt-covered honeycomb, before heading back to Nell’s for a coffee. I needed a hairwash badly so headed for Oshair while Ross waited in Nell’s. On my return, we ate an all day breakfast- Ross chose the liver breakfast, while I opted for a chicken, cheese and mayo Panini.

Off to Westfield via the bus to Ealing Broadway then the tube directly to Shepherd’s Bush. After a little gift shopping, we headed to Isleworth. The bus stop was actually quite a walk away from the shopping centre, but we followed the Citymapper instructions exactly and found the right stop. After a quick visit to see Ross’s darling little grandson, we headed home stopping off at a little Italian restaurant, Rosetta’s, on the way home. I was going to order my favourite scallopini but Ross encouraged me to try something a little different, which I did. It was similar to scallopini but was done in a delicious lemon sauce with a generous serving of vegetables. Oh, how I’ve missed my vegies!

It was pretty cold when we came out of Rosetta’s, definitely way less than zero, so we caught the first bus going in our direction. When Citymapper told us this was our stop, we got off not having a clue where we were, so we just had to follow the way it was telling us; that is, apart from doing a circumnavigation of the block first! Crazy! We were so pleased to finally get to bed.

I was so pleased in fact, that I spent most of the next day in bed sleeping. This cold weather has a soporific effect on me, that’s for sure. I woke in the late afternoon, ate a scone and a vanilla slice that Ross had bought when he collected the laundry, and proceeded to get ready for our night out at the theatre; the Criterion Theatre to be exact, seeing Close to You; Burt Bacharach Reimagined. The theatre was right the heart of Piccadilly Circus; just across the road from the tube exit. We were early so picked up our tickets from the box office, and scouted round for somewhere to have a drink before the show. Savini’s right beside the Criterion fit the bill, but boy, was it posh! Tea was served with three different egg timers depending on what sort of tea it was and coffee was served with a box of different sweet biscuits and meringues. I settled on a pina colada.

                                   Welcome to London by James, our wonderful airbnb host.

                                                   A local park with an interesting history

                                                            Love London houses.

Off to the theatre next door to see the show; not what we imagined but we both enjoyed it immensely, singing along to the songs we both knew. As the theatre wasn’t full, we moved to the centre seats at interval and I couldn’t believe how much better the view was. Some people even got to sit up on stage with the performers! I hadn’t seen that before.

After the show, we searched for a place to eat-you’d expect there to be lots to choose from right in the centre of Piccadilly Circus-but ended up choosing TGIFriday’s. We ate tapas-style; sharing plates of pork belly, chicken, prawns and crumbed mozzarella with various dipping sauces, followed by a huge apple waffle, which we also shared. Thank goodness I didn’t order a dessert as well.

After our night out, we woke late, had some breakfast, and went back to bed. I fell asleep and didn’t wake until late afternoon when we headed to Joe and Angela’s for dinner, calling in to the co-op to buy some wine and dessert on our way. We were met with cuddles from Eli before he toddled off to bed, and were joined by Angela’s family for a delicious dinner of tacos, but with soft shells that didn’t fall apart, and lots of fillings to choose from. I particularly enjoyed the yoghurt; I’ve never thought to add yoghurt to tacos before.

Thankfully, Joe dropped us home, even though it’s easy to catch the two buses back, the drive is so much quicker. We’ve had beautiful sunny but very cold days since we’ve been in London, but we woke to a miserable wet but warm day; well if you can call 11C warm. It’s warm compared to minus 4C. Of course this was the day we had decided to go to the Globe Theatre, which I’ve missed each time I’ve been in London. I’ve actually walked straight past it and missed it, which is even worse!

After talking to James, we decided to go via the Borough Market, and walk back to the Globe, which we did. The Borough Market was filled with food stalls of every description, meat, fish, cheese (lots of cheeses!) as well as exotic food stalls selling venison, wild boar, crocodile and kangaroo.  I probably would have enjoyed it much more if it hadn’t been pouring rain and I hadn’t had to keep avoiding puddles. I tried a very hot apple, rhubarb and ginger drink which was really delicious and perfect for a day like today, before sharing an Italian wrap and a lamb bap with Ross. We found a tiny table in front of a heater and sat down to rest. A cup of coffee was a good excuse.

We tried to find the Globe but found the Borough Cathedral and Sir Francis Drake’s ship, the Golden Hind instead. Eventually we walked what seemed to be miles but was 3 minutes’ walk according to maps and found the Globe, but still didn’t find the entrance. It was further around the corner! Totally exhausted, we traipsed in only to find we had just missed a tour and would have to wait for half an hour to the next one. Mission aborted. I just wanted to get my feet up, preferably in bed! We walked back up to Waterloo station where we caught the tube to Northfields before hopping on a bus to find an Italian restaurant James had recommended to Ross. However, we took the E3 instead of the E2- when will we learn we must take the exact bus, not one that’s just going in the right direction, and ended up in West Ealing, I think. We couldn’t find any Italian restaurants, but we did find a Lidl and a Pound Shop so bought a couple of bags for our excess baggage, and some breakfast food for James. We decided to abort this restaurant-finding mission and head back to Northfields. We were both footsore and bone-weary, not to mention, quite hungry.

We agreed we would eat at the first restaurant we came to. The first one, Chinese, was only take away, the second one, Nepalese didn’t open for another half an hour, the third one, Nell’s café fit the bill so Nell’s it was- no wine, but a mouth-watering lamb shank with a plate piled high with vegetables; oh how I’ve been craving vegies! Ross managed to eat a huge steak and kidney pie, before we trudged up the street to be greeted by James, who, on hearing our tale of woe, opened a lovely bottle of red for us; well for me actually, Ross had a cuppa and headed for bed, while I stayed chatting to James and enjoying the wine. After I had finished the bottle, I could barely stay awake so slumped on the bed fully dressed, I was almost asleep but woke myself up to shower and get my jammies on. Bad mistake! When I came back to bed I could not get to sleep and lay awake until after 1am.

Consequently, I struggled to wake up in time to make it to South Kensington station by 10.30am where we met Joe, Angela and little Eli over coffee in Pret-a-Manger, the only place where we could find a seat. The pain aux raisins I had was as good as any I ate in France.

Off to the Natural History Museum, a beautiful building built in 1881 to hold the treasures of the natural world. Not only were there skeletons of prehistoric animals but also bodies of much more recently extinct animals such as the dodo and the auk, quite sad really as they were hunted to extinction, not just died out naturally.

The Otherworlds photographic exhibition was fascinating and I learned so much about other planets in our solar system and their moons that I had no idea about before. For example, did you know Io, one of Jupiter’s largest moons, has more than 400 active volcanoes? I didn’t even know moons had volcanoes!

We had some difficulty locating a lunch-spot; all of the nearby restaurants were full and people were lined up waiting for a table. Angela managed to find us a table upstairs at Thai Square. I ordered a supposedly mild massaman chicken curry, but it was spicy enough for me. A couple of bottles of sparkling water helped wash it down.

Around the corner was Snog for frozen yoghurt. I was actually too cold to enjoy one but I did eat the raspberries off Ross’s which gave me the energy to head back to the museum, wait in the line again, as there was lots to see and I may not have the chance again. I don’t know how I kept going but I did. I sat whenever I could to relieve the pressure off my feet, but we went through the human biology section designed for children but very interesting for adults too, and then climbed the huge central staircase to see what was upstairs- I loved the treasures room-before going on a search for the giant sequoia, which as it turns out is closed for renovation. The rocks and minerals exhibit was extensive with some very beautiful gemstones on display too; my favourite was the emerald.

We left the museum just as it was closing and were swept up in the crowd, which became tighter as we entered the tube. All of the museums must close at the same time and everyone was trying to get through just a few turnstiles. We managed to jostle our way through and hopped on the district line to Richmond; well, not quite, the train we were on was going to Wimbledon, an offshoot of the same line. We hopped off at Earl’s Court, and transferred across to the right train.

At Richmond, we hopped on the H37 and headed to Isleworth for a delicious home-cooked dinner of chicken pho accompanied by mint, coriander and lime. Mmmm. I skipped the chili though.  Thoroughly worn out, Joe drove us back to Northfields where we both collapsed into bed, showerless. I didn’t want a repeat performance of last night!

Sunday dawned fine and warm, which was fantastic as we were off to lunch at the Shaftsbury Hotel in Richmond. We managed the two buses fine, but citymapper was telling us it was halfway down Shaftsbury Road, which it was not. You certainly can’t trust it completely. We worked out it was just down the main road so walked a little further than we had planned.

I managed to choose a comfortable chair after trying out quite a few; one had a very narrow seat, one was very rickety, and one was just right- but Ross had to steal it from another table. We were the first ones there, but the place soon filled up. Starting with a cider to quench my thirst and finishing with a lovely Malbec with my meal was the way to go, even though my meal was grilled salmon served on top of loads of grilled vegetables. Oh, I love grilled vegies! I helped Ross finish off his Yorkshire puddings, which he ordered as a side but was served not just one, but three huge puds with a jug of gravy!

As enticing as the desserts were, my ever-expanding waistline reminded me how tight my clothes were becoming and I sensibly declined. However, Angela and Joe, who have no problems with such things, enjoyed the pecan pie and sticky date pudding.

Two buses back home. The day had become cooler as the breeze had freshened and I shivered a little as we waited for our second bus. I had opted not to wear my coat today, so pulled my wrap tighter around me. I was very pleased to see our bus appear around the corner.

We decided not to worry about dinner tonight as we had had such a huge lunch, but by 10 o’clock, I was starving so made some toast, banana and jam to tide me over until morning where we headed down to the local Creperie for breakfast.

Having no plans for today, we headed to Westfield again to do a bit more gift shopping. Actually, more walking than shopping, but we tried. I did manage to find a Yankee Candle for James, as I know he loves them. So do I. I’m going to hunt them down when I get home. Even unlit, they emit a delightful aroma that makes the whole house smell fresh.

At Ealing Broadway, we grabbed a bagel for lunch; salmon and cream cheese for me, and spicy chicken for Ross, before heading home for a rest. I didn’t actually get to the bed, as there was a really interesting show on TV called the Secrets of the Blitz. By the time it finished, it was time to head over to Joe and Angela’s for a final meal together. Pizza! Ross has had a hankering for one ever since we couldn’t find Santa Maria’s, supposedly the one of the best pizzas in London and better than the pizzas in Sicily.

Well, here I am fully packed, well almost, I still have to do contortions pulling on my flight pantyhose; my least favourite part of flying. The best part is all the wonderful places flying can take me. This trip, I’ve loved Ireland, England, France, Spain, Portugal and Germany, but there’s so many other places still on my bucket list I’ll have to live until I’m a hundred to see them all, so if you’re young or just young at heart, pack your bags, head to the airport and take off to adventure! The world is waiting.

Our last few days in the camper...

                                                   We woke up to snow all around.

                                                                       It's snowing!

                                      The snow melts when it hits our warm camper window.

                                             A little forest setting beautiful in the snow

                                                    Driving out of the campsite

Leaving Mittelbergheim, we headed north. We have to get the camper back to Friedberg, north of Frankfurt on Sunday, so as long as we’re travelling in a northerly direction, we’ll get there in time. I spotted a place called Landau that sounded familiar, so we made a beeline for it. Simon (GPS) located a Macca’s so we programmed it in. As we drove into Landau, we could see the McDonalds, (who could miss those huge golden arches?) but Simon advised us to go in the opposite direction! I thought you mustn’t be allowed to do a left-hand turn so dutifully obeyed. He took us round and round the mulberry bush till eventually I turned him off and Ross drove there directly. This is not the first time this has happened. I have come to the conclusion that a GPS is a necessary evil. You can’t do without one, but it will drive you stark-raving mad!

We finally had the perfect Latte Machiatto, and I enjoyed it so much I went back for a second. We moved the camper into the MediaMarkt carpark as there was a lot more room, and settled down for the night, after a couple of games of cards. I found a bottle of Douro red that I had bought in Elvas and forgotten about, so I slept well. I cooked up our bacon and eggs and white pudding and ate a late breakfast.

On a whim, I searched for Kaiser Friedrich Therme and found it was only an hour and a half’s drive north. I could do with a day relaxing in a hot spa! I had imagined it was out in the country like so many of the thermes we had visited on our last trip, but no, it was right smack in the middle of quite a big town called Wiesbaden.

Ross parked quite close in a wheelie spot before deciding to move the camper and park at the stellplatz and catch a cab the 3km back. By a stroke of good luck, we found a spot in a centre street parking where the van not only fit perfectly, but it was free to park on the weekends! We asked the lady at the bookshop for directions to the Kaiser Friedrich Therme, and walked down the hill to a very long pedestrian street and eventually found the entrance. On approaching the desk, I saw a sign that clearly said (in pictures) no clothes, but I had walked so far, and had so much trouble actually finding a place to park, I thought, “What the hell, I’m here now, I’m just going to do it!” Ross was not so convinced. He decided he’d walk back to the camper and bring me my boots and jacket so I’d be warm when I finished in the spa.

I chose a locker, and loaded all my gear in it except my towel, and headed for the showers. Well, actually I walked round and round looking for the showers, feeling very self-conscious that I didn’t have any thongs on. I had left them in the van. Everyone was wearing footwear of some description, but not much else!

I hung my towel on the closest hook to the first pool, and stepped in. The water was comfortingly warm (36-37C) and I stayed submerged much longer than the recommended 10 minutes. If I wanted to soak in the hotter pool, I would have to climb out of this pool and walk a few metres, starkers, to enjoy the 38-39C water of the second pool. It was a little daunting, but everyone else, old and young, were doing it without a second thought, and no one was looking at anyone else anyway. Once in the hotter pool, I picked a great spot under the waterfall (for my shoulders) and with a strong massage jet on my back, and really started to relax.

Suitably cooked, I climbed out, quickly wrapped my towel around me, and went searching for the loo, but came across the most delicious smell of hot bread baking. The hot water had stimulated my hunger so I asked where the aroma was coming from. “Bread baking,” was the short reply, so I asked could I have some, and a pretzel was presented to me on a plate with butter and enough cream cheese for 10 pretzels. Well, I’ve never been fond of pretzels; too salty for me, but this one was just perfect. I won’t judge pretzels so harshly in the future!

There was a single girl sitting at a table drinking a beer, and since I didn’t have a clue which beer to choose, I said, “I’ll have what she’s having.” She heard me speaking English, and we started chatting about anything and everything. When joined by her friend, they both moved over to my table and we all chatted lots more. Both very lovely American girls, who had just popped into the therme on a whim, after dropping one of their husbands off to the airport to return to duty. Consequently neither of them had suitable footwear either. I did not feel quite so out of place. After another soak, I had to shower, and wash my hair before getting dressed. Very strangely, there were individual, very private and comfy dressing cubicles. Getting undressed did not seem to present a problem to them, but they must be shy about getting clothes on!

Ross was waiting for me with boots and jacket, which were much needed once we came outside. It was now dark and very cold. We hurried back to the camper in light rain, and made our way to our camping spot for the night with only one error from Simon, well, that’s if you don’t count his trying to tell us our campsite was on the right hand side on the road when it was clearly marked on the left! The right hand side just disappeared over the edge of the mountain in darkness!

We settled down for the night after eating a few of our leftover cheeses and crackers, and awoke to a winter wonderland of snow covering the ground as far as we could see, and clinging to bushes and trees in large clumps. As I lay in our warm bed watching this peaceful scene, it started snowing again, so quietly. It was really special. The kid in me wanted to get out and play in the snow, but after seeing Ross come back in after pulling in our power cords, I thought better of it and stayed in the warmth of the camper. It was almost noon before we drove off through several inches of snow being squashed beneath our tyres. A really weird feeling of driving on no road, but Ross has driven in snow many times before, so knew just how to do it. Amazingly, Frankfurt airport was only a few minutes away. We had no idea Wiesbaden was so close to the airport, so we called into terminal 2 to collect Ross’s computer tablet that he had left in the seat pocket of the plane on our flight over. He was very lucky to get it back!

We drove on to Friedberg, checked out our camping spot for the night, and headed off to top up the tank before having to hand the van back in the morning. We decided to actually camp in the yard of the depot, so we’d be ready for an early start. One of the workers came to check on all the motorhomes before locking up the yard for the night, and was nice enough to show us inside some of them. We picked our favourite, and decided if we ever do a motorhome holiday again, we are not going to have a two-berth one with a high bed and a shower curtain!

Ross cooked up the last of the mince with cherry tomatoes, onion, olives, peas and salami into a delicious savoury mince just before the gas ran out! It’s going to be cold tonight with no gas heating, so Ross changed over to our first gas bottle which may have enough gas left in it to warm up the van. It had lasted 26 nights already and the new bottle had lasted only 4! The last few nights had been cold but it just didn’t make sense that one bottle should last so much longer than another.

The gas didn’t last right through the night but it was enough to keep the van from freezing! It was minus 7.4C when we woke up at 8 o’clock. I dressed in as many clothes as I could as quickly as I could as we had to clean the van before handing it over, and that included the toilet! The less said about that experience, the better!

We packed all of our gear, and waited in the warmth of the McRent office until our taxi arrived, and of course you guessed it, it was the same lunatic driver we had on our way here. Thankfully, he drove more to our liking this time so I don’t know if something was said to him, or he was less angry this afternoon as we were the ones who had to wait an hour for him!

Our European camper capers had concluded, and we were on our way back to London. My favourite moments were visiting the Forte da Graca in Elvas, having a scrumptious lunch in Mittelbergheim, wandering the Christmas markets in Strasbourg, playing cards in the camper almost every night, and waking up to a snowy morning in Wiesbaden. What an adventure we had enjoyed together!

Loving France more each day...

At Caylar, we saw our first snow. It was 0C so that made sense. I didn’t make the mistake of sticking my tongue out to catch any, but a flake caught in my eye and it stung! Ross woke early and decided to head off with me still in bed. I heard James (our GPS) say, “Drive carefully. Have a good trip” and was awake immediately. We were heading for Orange, motorway all the way, so thought I could catch up on some more sleep, which I did until I was bumped awake. “Why aren’t we on the motorway?” was my first question to Ross. “James told me to exit,” was his reply.

Many roundabouts later, we finally rejoined the motorway and were on our way again. Because Ross had made such an early start, we were close to Orange before 10am. He decided he could drive a little further so we headed for Tournon-sur-Rhone where we had camped at a stellplatz on the way down. We headed for the same place, and made it without any real difficulties.

I was completely knackered and fell asleep almost immediately, but when I woke up, was full of energy and wanted to explore. We walked down the main street where most shops were closed, but walked over to two river cruise boats in the hope of being let on for a “look round”. They were both closed, I suspect, for the winter. We then discovered a camping ground that was OPEN. Ross hightailed it back to our camper and drove it in, while I “barred” a good spot with a lovely view of the river.

Hot showered, hair washed and properly clean at last, I was ready for anything, which turned out to be a game of cards. Ross finally made the pasta he’s been promising for days, and it was delicious. It was lovely to have a break from cooking! We tried to finish off the tiramisu but couldn’t manage it.

Early to bed and early to rise, but ended up going back to bed and sleeping till 10am! It was 3.6C, so bed was the warmest place! We drove all day without venturing far from the motorways, and saw thousands of trucks! We passed hundreds too, some of them more than once, as we had to stop to refuel both the camper and ourselves. I had a coffee and a delicious “pain aux raisins” and Ross tried the “galette du roi”. We must have been lucky up until now. Maybe the truckies were all on a Christmas-New Year break and were all back at work today. Let’s just say, I still hate trucks! Huge trucks were trying to pass other huge trucks going up hills- it’s just pure craziness on the roads.

We arrived at a little stellplatz at Mullheim just across the border into Germany from Mulhouse where I couldn’t find a single place to camp overnight. By the looks of it as we drove past, Mullhouse is just a huge industrial town with Citroen and Peugeot factories. We had an easy dinner of a fresh baguette with cheese and jam, and still didn’t manage to finish off the tiramisu.

After twelve hours sleep (navigating is tiring!), I awoke to a fine day. I cooked a delicious, but messy bacon, eggs and white pudding before having a hot shower, actually a bit of a dribble of water all over the body, and setting off to Mittelbergheim. I had wanted to see this purportedly prettiest village in France since last year when I made the unforgivable mistake of accidentally booking accommodation in Marckolsheim. They actually weren’t that far apart geographically but were worlds apart in every other way.

Mittelbergheim did not disappoint; snow-covered roofs of the cottages, narrow, winding streets through fifteenth century dwellings, and best of all, no traffic!  It’s such a photographic village I went a little snap happy. Ross easily found a place to park, and we toddled down to the village and found the only restaurant that was open at this time of year; the Restaurant Raisin d’Or (the Golden Grape) where we indulged in a hearty meal. We were very lucky as they go on their annual holidays on Monday! I tried the duck with honey and raspberries and oh, it was melt-in-the mouth delicious! I ordered a half bottle of the local pinot noir to wash it down, followed by the “tarte aux myrtilles”. I did not leave one skerrick of pie!

While I was enjoying my dessert, Ross befriended the local pooch; a golden lab who was very friendly and loved the attention Ross gave him. Our hostess spoke French slowly so we were able to understand her and carry on a conversation.

Just as we climbed into our camper, it started snowing so we just sat and watched the snowflakes swirl around us. I wanted to stay forever and take it all in, but we had to make tracks.

Back on the highway north to Germany, it continued to snow almost the whole way to Landau, our camping spot for tonight. Snow must have a calming effect on me or maybe it was the wine at lunch but I kept falling asleep the whole way. Simon (our new GPS guy) was pretty good apart from two errors, one of which Ross managed to correct immediately when I yelled, “Not here!” the other put us back on the highway for four kilometres and then back four kilometres, before we repeated the manoevre, staying right instead of left!

All in all, we enjoyed a memorable day in beautiful snowy countryside, and a very special visit to Mittelbergheim. I wished we could have stayed longer, but we may have been snowed in!

France revisited....

We travelled on to Biarritz where we managed to find a Maccas in the suburbs and a very nice camping spot for the night. We played cards and stayed awake until midnight when the Maccas closed planning the next stage of our trip. I was exhausted but could not get to sleep, consequently Ross woke up, did a small amount of shopping at the nearby Intermarche, while I struggled to rouse myself from slumber. By the time I woke, the day was bright and sunny and Ross was keen to get moving, but not before French toast and blueberry jam! A (very) quick shower and we were on our way, but first we made a pit-stop (literally) at the mechanics across the road and managed to have our sliding step repaired. (It had been damaged by a huge tree root in the campground in Lisbon.)

We travelled uneventfully through countryside with magnificent views of the Pyrenees all the way to Lourdes. I marvelled at their awesome beauty and enjoyed taking photos of the snow-capped peaks. It must be cold up there as it was a warm and sunny 16C down here! Things took a turn for the worse when we reached Lourdes. We were following the signs to “La Grotte”, when I missed a turn and we drove on across the river until we could find a spot to turn around. Ross navigated through one-way, narrow streets until we reached the turn we’d missed.

Through the almost deserted village of Lourdes, we drove down to a carpark on the river. I grabbed my cape as soon as I felt the breeze, and I was glad I did because it was quite cold walking along the river to the grotto. It’s obviously a very special place to many people, with a very interesting history. It was only in the mid 1800s that the little girl Bernadette, who lived nearby, saw an apparition of Mary while she was gathering firewood. Over the next five months, she saw her 15 more times, and then never saw her again. Apparently, she was told to build a chapel on this spot, and build a chapel they did, an enormous, gold-lined cathedral right beside the river and actually on top of the grotto where the spring water still flows. I touched the water dripping down from the roof of the cave, but I didn’t drink it. It’s supposed to heal many things but I think old age isn’t one of them!

After our blustery walk and not having eaten since breakfast, we let our trusty GPS take us to McDonalds for a burger as all the patisseries in the village were closed. After several hairy wrong turns and one-way streets, we arrived at our destination- an empty building! Bloody GPS!

We decided to head out of town and find the Maccas ourselves which we did.  I ordered a huge bacon and blue cheese burger with wedges which was the yummiest meal I’ve ever had at Maccas, and Ross had chicken strips, chicken nuggets and cheese balls which I helped him devour. Stuffed, we decided to change our planned route- again- and head for Toulouse.

The GPS suggested an Aire de Camping-Cars (overnight place for motorhomes to park) so I dutifully followed it through winding, indescribably narrow and bumpy lanes, which just kept going and going and ended up getting us nowhere.  I was beyond having kittens. Ross was very tired and we both started laughing hysterically at the ludicrousness of our situation. All I wanted to do was to avoid situations like this and here I was smack in the middle of it! All Ross wanted to do was to dins a place to park for the night!

We pulled over to the side of the road with warning lights flashing, as everyone does, and located another Maccas on the GPS. The only problem was we had to renegotiate every street we had driven in on, but in the opposite direction, until we found the Maccas in a Campanile Hotel carpark. We walked in to locate the toilets and ended up sitting down in front of a log fire enjoying a McFlurry, and the ambience of this very different McDonalds, decorated like a large chateau or hunting-lodge; definitely not like any other Maccas we’ve seen, and unlike all of the others, quite and peaceful.  Cultured Toulousians must have other restaurants to frequent unlike the people of Zamora where it must have been the only decent eating-place in town.

Just as we were preparing to retire for the night, a huge storm hit rocking the camper and pelting rain every which way. The wind has subsided but the rain continues unabated. Let’s hope it blows itself out and it ‘s fine and sunny tomorrow as we are heading of to see the Millau Viaduct. PS The temperature has dropped to 6C!

After coffee, cereal and shower, we set off. It wasn’t raining, but that very soon changed. The beautiful French countryside surrounded us on all sides, and we drove through some cute little villages, which had had snowfalls last night, and the snow was still on the ground in patches, and on the tiled roofs of the village houses. Just beautiful! It was a cool 2C outside so we didn’t stop until we reached “l’Aire du Viaduc de Millau” after paying 11.60 euro for the privilege of seeing the bridge. I suppose they have to pay for it somehow. We pulled into the parking lot and proceeded to rug up, and I mean rug up- it was bitterly cold and raining! Ross decided to return to the warmth of the camper while I intrepidly trudged up the path to the top viewing point on my own; there was no one else in sight. Let me tell you-it was totally worth it. It stopped raining, and the views were “magnifique”, even without the bridge!

I managed to take a few photos before my hands began to freeze, and I hightailed it back to the warmth of our camper, where I thawed out with a hot coffee and ham and melted cheese bagel.

After checking with the tourist office, we decided to head south to Montpellier as our only alternative was to go over the bridge, drive for a few kilometres before turning around and paying another 11.60 euro to go back over the bridge and head north again.

We saw a sign for a Total petrol station, which also had a knife and fork and a parking area, so we decided to call it a day.  So here we are in Aire du Caylar enjoying a coffee and the warmth of a huge cafeteria, with a huge selection of meals including the best array of desserts I have seen so far. Fill a plate for 4 euro! I’m going to wait until later and try a little of everything! It’s a 24 hour cafeteria so a midnight snack sounds good!

Back in sunny Spain...well, it was for a day!

We woke up to the rainiest day we’ve had so far, which quickly developed into cyclonic conditions. The rain pelted down flooding the rec room where I was sheltering while Ross tried to find the laundry. After half an hour of walking around the park, and finding the marked laundry unavailable, he discovered a laundry right next to our camper, not marked on the map we had been given! Poor Ross!

After washing and drying the clothes, we decided to head off, anywhere to get out of this pelting rain. We did plan to head north along the coast, which would have been a pretty drive in good weather, but changed our plans and headed inland towards Zamora.

The rain persisted and we climbed higher and higher into the mountains, until we entered the rainclouds. The rain wasn’t quite so bad, but we couldn’t see more than a few metres ahead! At last the clouds seemed to clear, as we entered sunny Spain. It didn’t last long though, and soon enough the rain started again.

We managed to locate a Maccas in Zamora to try to get wifi, so I could call my bank in Australia on skype, as my account is doing weird things! There were kids’ birthday parties in progress; the noise was indescribably loud. No point in trying to place a call to the bank now, so we sat up until 11pm playing cards, and went back to maccas only to discover the noise had unabated; the place was now filled with teenagers. When we left at 11.30pm, (the time the Maccas closed), there were still a lot of people still eating and ordering! And after all that, I couldn’t get through to my bank! (We did have a couple of McFlurries though; they don’t have thickshakes here!)

Ross found a huge Eroski supermarket come department store where he bought in order of importance, wine, water, milk and some fruit, as well as some gadgetry he’s been looking for.

We woke to a beautiful sunny day, but cold- well, not exactly cold, but the coldest we’ve been so far- 8.6C- and headed off on a lovely drive to Bilbao. We pulled up in Mirandela for a coffee and a stale Portuguese tart; I couldn’t drink the coffee; but Ross polished his off admirably. Beggars can’t be choosers. I’ve been saying that a lot lately.

Still a beautiful sunny day when we arrived in Bilbao, we located the Guggenheim easily. The hard part was to follow. We simply could not find anywhere to park; we drove round and round and round and finally spotted a place on the side of a street. There were a few witch’s hats which Ross cleverly avoided, and parked beautifully. As I was just about to climb out, a gentleman approached and told us we weren’t allowed to park there- in English, so we couldn’t pretend not to understand. He said it was reserved for government vehicles. When we asked where we could park, as we wanted to visit the Guggenheim, he explained the directions. He must have seen the puzzled look on my face as he said, “Just follow me,” and we did, right to where the buses park underneath the Guggenheim. We gave our knight in shining armour a little koala as a small token of our appreciation.

This spot will do us! We are a small bus, right? We put up all of our Australian flags all over the camper to try to avoid a fine, although everyone parks wherever they want to in Europe- in the middle of the road- anywhere!

We paid our entry fee for seniors- so sad I wasn’t questioned as to my age!- and wandered through the huge expanse of the building. I liked the tulips and the stainless steel spheres, but many of the “exhibits” evaded my comprehension.  I found out when scolded by a guard that photos weren’t allowed so set off on a mission to get as many “illegal” photos as I could.  I was aided and abetted by Ross, who engaged one in conversation while I took the shot. Heavens only knows what it was I was shooting!

Back to the camper with thankfully, no fine, and on our way to San Sebastian. The GPS tried to direct us out of town, but unfortunately the street it was trying to take us was blocked with hundreds of people demonstrating or marching or something. Anyway, we couldn’t get through, but the GPS kept trying to take us back to that spot! We then had to use our sense of direction to avoid that part of town and somehow get on the motorway. I spied a sign for the motorway and Ross waited for a break in traffic to get over into that lane. On the motorway again as night fell, we found a small pull-off area with lots of garbage bins, an abundance of cute kittens (real cats!) and an automatic toilet where we parked the night. We had a lovely cheese platter with champagne and peach juice, and played cards again. I’ve finally got the knack of this game!

After 11 hours’ sleep, we set off for San Sebastian, drove round and round looking for a parking spot, found none, took some photos while driving, and kept going.  For a change, I decided to get off the motorway, not Ross, and take a short trip to Hondaribbia, where Ross parked illegally, put the hazard lights on, while I walked around the area taking some photos. Very pretty spot on the estuary! I assume it’s the border between Spain and France.

St Jean-de-Luz had been recommended to us so we thought we’d pop in to check it out. A very pretty old town on the beach with dozens of restaurants and patisseries, which would be bustling in summer, but now was almost deserted with most places closed for the winter. We walked right down to the beach in the rain before heading back to see the church; the least ornamental one I’ve ever seen; maybe it was hiding its beauty inside.

I spied a shop selling woollen hats for half price, but couldn’t find one that I liked. I want one to replace my gorgeous maroon beret that Max bought me for Christmas in France four years ago. I wore that beret to death last trip! What I did find was a lovely soft pair of black leather gloves! The leather gloves I’m wearing at the moment have seen better days. They’ve served me well; I bought them at the markets in Prague 4 years ago!

While I was shopping, Ross had found a “salon de the”, where we had coffees and raspberry tart (me) and a Crème Basque tart (Ross) before heading off to Biarritz where we’ve parked in a Maccas somewhere in the suburbs. It’s a huge shopping centre with heaps of restaurants, but I’m not hungry!

Lisbon to Porto...in the rain!

Goodbye, Lisbon! Of course, it’s bright and sunny just as we are leaving but the weather soon closes in and it’s pouring rain as we take a quick diversion to Fatima. After walking around and around and across the road, and finally locating the church, I decide it’s too far to walk in the pouring rain as I only have my thongs on and my feet are starting to become iceblocks. I didn’t think it would be so far from the parking lot.

Back on the motorway for an almost uneventful trip to Busacco, save for the toll ticket not working when we try to get off the motorway. We only took the ticket when we entered at Fatima so it hasn’t had a chance to get wet or dirty, but this has happened once before in Portugal so Ross takes it all in his stride.

Up, up, up to the Royal Palace Hotel at Busacco and of course it’s pouring rain. We run in, check in, check out the room, and head to the restaurant for a bite to eat, as dinner isn’t until 8 tonight. We order delicious hot fennel and cream soup with little salmon ravioli, a plate of cheese and sauteed oyster mushrooms with complimentary champagne. Mmmm… this is the life. We collect what we need overnight from the van and head up to our room for a hot shower and a rest. Of course the lift doesn’t work for me, and when the attendant opens the door to a deep gaping hole, I decide to mount the several flights of stairs to our top floor room. We had world news on TV in English so we now know what’s happening in the world, but would rather not know, actually. We both fell asleep and were only woken by the alarm at 7.30. This travelling sure is tiring!

Down to the beautiful dining room where complimentary champagne is once again served. It was nice to dress up for dinner for a change. I don’t know why but I chose the Royal Tasting Menu, which had fish soup and codfish as two of the courses. However, the half bottle of 2009 Busacco Red helped me wash down the whole meal! Ross chose individual dishes, all of which were delicious. I changed my dessert to the pineapple carpuccio and coconut ice cream, which I really enjoyed.

Up to our cosy room, where I slept an almost dreamless sleep waking up just in time for breakfast. Yay! Complimentary champagne again! It’s Christmas Day for Orthodox Christians so I immediately decide this is my Christmas Day too and have champagne for breakfast as well as a poached pear, coconut yogurt, and bacon and scrambled eggs on toast. Toast…mmm! I hadn’t tried poached pear before but this was really delicious. Coffee was brought to us in a pot with hot milk in a separate jug; just how we like it!

After breakfast, I check out, Ross loads the van and we’re off to our caravan park just outside Porto. I’m not sure if it’s to the north or south but it’s 6.5 kilometres out of town. The weather is overcast, but the mist has lifted and I’m actually starting to relax when travelling.  We arrive in Porto and go over the bridge so I assume the campground is on the north side, but I don’t really know why the GPS taking us right through the centre of town where the streets are narrow and difficult to negotiate especially when people either double park or don’t park close to the gutter. It’s one of these latter vehicles that Ross collects- just the mirror. Our mirror smashes of course, but there’s nowhere to pull up so we just keep going; twisting and turning through the narrow one way streets and streets with just tram-lines that we have to drive on! I can’t remember if Porto still has trams or not, but I’m petrified. Finally in the square fair smack in the middle of town, the GPS says, ”You have reached your way point!” I wanted to scream and cry at the same time, but instead just swore at it! This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I do not, repeat, do not, want to be driving in the centre of cities. I would rather walk!  And that’s saying something.

Out of town at last and across another bridge, I realize that our campground was actually on the south side of the Douro River and I didn’t need to go into the city at all! To overcome my frustration and calm my nerves, we play a game of cards then go for a walk along the beach where I start to feel better. The ocean always has a soothing effect on me, and today is no different. It’s windy and the ocean is rough, but it isn’t as cold as you would expect.

We call in for a coffee at a little place on the beach called Tappas Caffe, but instead of coffee, we order beer and a francesinha to share. Breads, fritters and delicious olives are brought out as starters as soon as we sit down. The francesinha gave Lucimar’s a run for its money. A huge piping hot sandwich of cheese, chorizo, ham and steak  in a hot spicy sauce was divided in two for us so we each receive a triangle; so glad we didn’t order a full one each! It’s 7pm, Ross is asleep, and I’m still not hungry.

Lisbon

Our first day in Lisbon was an unmitigated disaster. We caught the bus down to the ferry, which took cars as well, and managed to get to the other side of the harbour.  So far, so good. We had been told there was a place directly where we got off the ferry where we could buy 24 hour tickets for bus, tram, metro, and train, but after Ross asking at 4 different places, he just bought a return train ticket at the station. We arrived at Cas do Sodre (Central Station) and hooked into their wifi to try to find the church/cathedral that had been damaged by the earthquake in 1755. Google came up with a dozen options, and since I didn’t have a clue, I chose Carmo Convent. It seemed to be about where I remembered it to be! We decided to catch a metro to the next station, which was apparently close to it. On exiting the metro, we were immediately drenched to the skin in a torrential downpour. People were scurrying about, trying to escape the rain, sheltering in doorways or under huge café umbrellas. We decided to abort the mission and ducked back down into the metro, back to Central Station and then on the train back to Belem, the ferry terminal. As we hopped off the train, it started pouring again with no warning. If we thought we were saturated before, now we were drenched to the skin and I’m not exaggerating. We had to run over the train bridge, down a million steps, (slight exaggeration) over the road and the carpark to the dry terminal building. Very fortunately, we only had a few minutes wait for the ferry during which time Ross wrung my socks out as much as possible, in the vain hope of keeping my feet warm. It was not the sort of day to be wearing hiking sandals! I also learned that my pink waterproof snow jacket isn’t waterproof at all! Over the harbour again where the really helpful ticketing girl called us a cab (it was 50 cents dearer than the bus!) to take us back to our camper, where I immediately changed out of my wet clothes and into dry jammies. Poor Ross went to have a shower and dry the clothes off in the dryer. No way were they all going to dry in the camper. I climbed into bed and slept for 11 hours straight!

I was determined to try again next day, but we thought we’d try a different route. There was a bus directly into town and the stop was “just down the road”. Three quarters of an hour later, we hopped on the bus, which took us into a part of Lisbon that I didn’t recognize at all, definitely not the centre. We saw all the ugly parts on the way in; industrial areas, ramshackle buildings and horrible graffiti walls. We got off at the last stop and looked around us. You guessed it. The skies opened! I had my waterproof snow boots on today (lesson learned from yesterday- bright sunny day can turn into rain here very quickly) and hurriedly pulled my Irish poncho over my head. It was no match for the pouring rain and blustery wind. I definitely did not want to get wet again today, so we quickly jumped into the first cab we saw and asked could he take us to Lucimar Restaurant- I had it on my phone as he couldn’t understand my accent- which was about 10 minutes drive. He dropped us right to the door for less than 5 euro. Lucimar is a little off the beaten track, but well worth the diversion.

Lucimar was just as I remembered it- I was hoping Ross wouldn’t be disappointed in the food.  They weren’t open for lunch yet (it was only 11.30) but the waitress brought us a coffee to start and then some olives, fresh bread rolls, butter and pate. I encouraged Ross to try the francesinha and I ordered pork steak. Both were served with huge plates of thin chips. The lovely waitress brought me some “hot sauce” for the pork, and I shook a few drops onto it before I realized it wasn’t Worcestershire sauce as I had thought, but chili olive oil!  I had a few mouthfuls before a tiny amount became caught in my throat and I couldn’t breathe. Coughing and spluttering in an effort to breathe, and frantically searching in my bag for water, I managed to regain my composure when the waitress offered me a glass of port, which miraculously cured me. She called it “sweet wine”.

At this stage, I thought it might be a good idea to swap meals. Ross had eaten half of his francesinha and loved it, and can tolerate chili far better than I can. I enjoyed the francesinha as well- I must look for the recipe- although I think everyone makes it differently. I wanted to try one of the desserts in the cabinet, but instead was bought a large piece of  Portuguese tart (tarte de nates). Ross opted for the crème brulee, which was bruleed right in front of him. After dessert, we were brought sherry to finish off the meal. And how much did all this cost? 33 euro! We asked Josemaria, presumably the owner of Lucimar, could he call us a cab to take us to the hop-on, hop-off bus as during the meal, while showing the waitress my photos from my last visit, I discovered the name of the church was Sao Domingos so at least I knew what we were looking for, and surely it’s on the bus route.

Josemaria told us the restaurant wasn’t busy (it was packed by this time!) and he would drive us himself! He didn’t want anything from us, so I’m still not sure why he would go out of his way to be so kind. Many obrigados later, we hopped out of his lovely silver car, and waited for the bus, which arrived in a few minutes. We had to buy a 2-day ticket, which cost 27 euro each. We stayed on the bus until stop number 4 and walked a little way to the church. At last , I found it! I swear the same beggar woman was still there. It turns out it wasn’t damaged by the earthquake in 1755, but by a fire in 1959! No wonder no one I asked could help me!

I knelt and said a short prayer of thanks; I really feel an affinity with this church more than any of the other cathedrals I have visited, with their opulence and ostentatious decadence which leave me feeling quite cold. Maybe the damaged pillars remind me of my own life; I don’t know- it’s just a special place for me. Ross bought me a little pamphlet detailing its history, with a description that says, ”A sanctuary in the centre of Lisbon, that leaves no one indifferent.”

We finally found a post office and posted our postcards, then watched a drama in real life where the tram was stuck because a woman hadn’t parked her car properly and the tram just kept ringing the bell until she came running with a small child in her arms, not knowing what to do first. I felt sorry for her, but I gave a running commentary on the drama unfolding before my eyes. Pity I didn’t video the whole thing!

We tried to board the next tram but had to go up to the stop in the square where it started raining again. We did a circuit on two trams but still didn’t get back to where we started so had to walk back. Amazingly, I knew the way. We found the hop on-hop off bus stop with our bus there waiting but it pulled away just as we were about to board it. He obviously doesn’t check his rear view mirror! Ross grabbed us a small coffee while we waited for the next bus, which was a little open air affair- not good in rainy weather. I managed to spill the coffee all over myself. (luckily I hadn’t taken off my poncho!)

We were planning on doing the full circuit, but this was not fun at all so we hopped off at the very next stop, walked through the Arch of Triumph and down to the Sexiest WC in the World- very fancy-schmancy! We walked to the ferry terminal but no ferries left from here for our neck of the woods, so we had to catch two metros back to Cas Do Sodre. Of course our 24 -hour ticket had just expired and we couldn’t get the bloody ticket machine to work. The assistant finally came over to help us after making a call to her superior (we assumed) and she couldn’t get it to work either! She tried another machine and we fished two tickets out of the tray. We arrived back to the station only to find the ticket booth unattended so we had to try to work this bloody machine.  We only wanted two one-way tickets to Belem, the ferry terminal. We paid for two, but the machine only gave us one. I kept the receipt saying two in case anyone asked. I must be psychic.  We checked the platform we needed and the direction the train was going and its estimated time of departure and hopped on. We didn’t check if it was an express or not! You guessed it- it flew straight through our station but we didn’t realize until it had flown through a few other stations as well and stopped way out in the country! It was dark and raining so we couldn’t evens see the station names. Finally we worked out what had happened and got on the train going back to Central hoping it was going to stop at Belem. You wouldn’t believe it but next minute we are confronted by a burly ticket inspector. We valiantly tried to explain that the machine had only given us one ticket, and I showed him the receipt saying 2 and all he says is 2 trips. We tried to explain that we were not even supposed to be on this train. We were only supposed to be going 3 stations to Belem but we accidentally got an express train. He kept talking and we kept talking until eventually he gave up and harassed another old woman. He was trying to tell us the ticket office was open, and I was arguing that it bloody well wasn’t!

Finally, we arrived back at Belem and the skies opened again! I managed to stay relatively dry (compared to the previous night) but the bottom of my pants and the back of my jumper got wet. (I didn’t have time to put the poncho hood up.) It was 8 C colder than last night, so I was shivering. Ross put his coat over my shoulders; he reckoned he was warm, and went to find us a coffee. He came back with two coffees and two cold filled bread rolls. I took one bite and gave mine to him, but the coffee warmed me from the inside out.

At the end of an exhausting day, and after walking almost 10 kilometres, we were accompanied onto the boat by a fractious baby, screaming her lungs out.  Luckily, the sound of the engines either drowned out the crying of the baby or the rocking of the boat calmed her back to sleep. At the terminal, our helpful ticket girl wasn’t on, and the guy wasn’t nearly so helpful. He told us the taxi number was on the ATM so we called it on my new Portugal SIM. We waited half an hour with one more call before our friendly ticket girl came to work, and called a taxi for us which was there within 5 minutes. She hadn’t heard of the taxi mob we had called and had never seen their sticker on the machine.

Unbelievably, we had enough energy for very hot showers before bed. Once again, I slept all night!