Cream or Jam, Ma’am? Day 8

A Beach Day

Nothing is as quiet as field atop a Cornish cliff, I’m now so used to living in the centre of town, I’ve forgotten what quiet sounds like. No rumble of lorries through the night, the screech of tyres, revving engines, shouts and squeals as people leave pubs or friends, drunken arguments conducted under the glare of the streetlight outside our house, taxi drivers who park opposite who shout loudly into phones or play loud music and keep their engines running. The half 6 wake up call as the builders arrive at the building site, car doors slamming, generators firing up, loud chats in 20 different languages as they wait for the gates to open. And through all that Cornish quiet I was awake until at least 2 am and awake again before 6…

The temperature in the morning is dropping every day, the sun is out but it feels thinner, the wind cuts through your clothes and gives you goosebumps. There are mushrooms in the dewy grass and blackberries in the hedges, to paraphrase Jon Snow, Autumn is coming….

But not before we’ve had a day on the beach…

The outlook didn’t look good, we had packed a rucksack with a picnic and swim stuff for a walk along the Cornish Coastal path to just beyond the Minack Theatre, back through the village to Porthcuno Beach. Within a minute of starting the walk the heavens opened, one rogue cloud in a sky of white and blue. We briefly sheltered in the lee of the motorhome and as quickly as it arrived, it stopped raining.

The Cornish Coastal path rollercoasts its way through the gorse cliff edge, with steep rocky descents and uphills where the steps were made for the legs of giants. There is a huge difference in how Charles and I manage these paths, Charlie has the balance and sure footedness of a ninja goat. He skips lightly from one stone to another, never once needing to ascend the steep slopes like a 2-year old going upstairs. If he was a goat, he would be one of those that is found up the sides of dams. I, on the other hand, have the grace and sure footedness of a Giant Panda in 8” stilettos. Going downhill is worse, one false step, one rolled ankle and you would be flat on your face, hitting granite on the way down or just plunging to your death. At least going up the really steep slopes, you can’t fall far when you are on all fours!

The ever present danger for some, (ok me) is compensated by spectacular views of the Cornish Coast. We passed the monument to where the first transatlantic telephone cable left our shores, enabling messages to reach the US in minutes rather than weeks. We passed the Minack Theatre, but entry was only for those with pre-booked tickets, so we passed by and then took a short, circle back to the beach through the village.

It was warm if you were out of the wind, we laid out towels out under the cliff protected from the wind and ventured again into the sea. This bay was calmer and although the water was bracing – 15 degrees – I could swim 4 ‘laps’ between the lifeguard flags which marked out 3/4 of the beach quite easily.

The beach was relatively busy, the majority enjoying the sun rather than the sea. A group near to us had a BBQ in a bucket and under Susie’s very strict instructions on the cooking of sausages, bacon and eggs, several trips to the sea to wash off a sausage that had been dropped in the sand, after over 2 hours of prep & cooking the group of friends declared their sausage, bacon and eggs sandwiches to be delicious.

We needed to be off our campsite by 4, so mid-afternoon we packed up and walked back along the Coastal Path.

Our next campsite was Treago Farm near Crantock, where we arrived in time to set up and have our own BBQ. The forecast was for the first ground frost of the year for some parts the country and there is certainly a real chill in the air here too.

Cream or Jam, Ma’am Days 5-7

‘As I was going to St Ives…’

Today we were on the road for a bit, navigating our way around Cornish roads in a 7m motorhome requires a little bit of planning. We parked above St Ives and then walked into the town. We walked around the town and the harbour. The tide was out, so we could walk amongst the boats.

We were lucky enough to get a table at Source Kitchen, which featured in Rick Stein’s Cornwall. Really lovely lunch, similar to tapas, menu was all sharing plates. We chose, Padron peppers, Cornish Crab, Duck Rillettes with crab apple chutney, confit tomatoes, and charcuterie with olive tapenade & pickles.

To Surf or Not to Surf…

Our campsite was east of St Ives and not long after we arrived, the rain started and didn’t stop until 10 the next morning, so we snuggled down in the motorhome and watched the coverage of the events surrounding the death of Her Majesty. I feel torn, if I were home in Tunbridge Wells, I would have queued to pay my respects but we are in Cornwall, so we have caught up on the early evening news, but it feels like it is happening a million miles away.

The next morning we had a long lie in, waiting for the weather to clear. We were a 20 min walk from the Gwithian Beach, so as the clouds cleared and the sun came out, we packed a bag and made our way down for a swim.

The beach was relatively busy with all kinds of surfers, kite surfers, body board surfers and just plain surfers. We were the only people not in wetsuits, but we plunged into the sea and although the sea was not conducive to swimming, we surfed the waves with everyone else.

On duty – surf was much higher than it appears in the pics

After drying and getting dressed, we walked along the beach before stopping for a hot drink and cake!

We then walked the long way back to campsite so we could book a table at a local Tapas restaurant, Los Establos for the evening. We returned later, crossing fields of cabbage and turnip for a feast of tapas. Patatas bravas, gambas, squash with pomegranate and almonds, chicken thighs, hake with chorizo and meatballs – all mouth-wateringly delicious. We rolled back across the same fields in the darkness. The wind was now coming from the North and the evenings are getting distinctly chillier.

First, Last Underground and Overground

During the night, although it was dry, it was really windy which gently rocked the van. It started cloudy with a cool breeze. Our plan was to make for Land’s End. We encountered a little bit of traffic on the way…

After negotiating the livestock, we made a stop at the Geevor Tin Mine. Geevor Tin Mine was the last mine to work the famous St Just Mining District, the site of the largest number of undersea tin and copper mines in the world and was only decommissioned in 1990. You can explore all the topside mine buildings, take a short tour of some of the old mine workings underground. These were, for obvious reasons not the later, deep shafts but the older, hand hewn tunnels. Whilst on site you had to wear a hard hat. The mine workings cover a huge area both on the coast and under the sea. The Cornish landscape is dotted with remains of its mining heritage.

We made a perfunctory stop at Land’s End, £10.50 for the car park….!!!, avoided the naff commercial food and shopping area, walked along the coast in both directions and took the obligatory sign photo, before heading to Treen.

Our campsite was a field in Treen, with views out to sea. We packed up our rucksack and made the 20 minute walk or should I say, scramble down to Pedn Vounder Beach. The path first follows the coast path and then literally it is a scramble down a steep path then a climb down the rocks to the most beautiful beach.

Nearly deserted, just half a dozen naturists as companions

The beach was practically deserted, our only companions about half a dozen naturists (why are they almost always old men?). The sea was bracing, the tide was coming in and again we encountered large waves which subsided as the sea deepened over a sand shelf.

The first or last bit of the climb onto the beach..

After an afternoon of climbing and swimming, dinner at The Logan Rock Inn rounded off a beautiful day. On our walk back to the field the sky sparkled with a million stars and the Milky Way glittered. We don’t see skies like that in light polluted Kent.

Cream or Jam, Ma’am? Day 4

The Lost Gardens of Heligan

The Lost Gardens of Heligan were another place on my ‘must-visit’ list. Don’t feel sorry for Charlie, for those that know us well, his interests are beer, motorsport & skiing, (the last 2 are fairly interchangeable in terms of importance) but beer is King, and all 3 are well-serviced.

We checked into Heligan’s own campsite, which I highly recommend. The showers were of ‘boutique hotel’ standard, hot showers with no time limit, huge area to put your things and get dry without having to balance on one foot as you get dressed. There is also an well-stocked farm shop just a minute’s walk away.

The campsite is 2 minutes walk from the Heligan entrance and on entering you are greeted by the Giant.

The formal and kitchen gardens are only a small part of Heligan, the majority of the grounds are taken up by walks down the wooded valley, past a wildflower meadow to the Jungle area. The wooded area has lots of willow sculptures, some adorned with fairies, hidden amongst the trees. My kind of art, I’ve decided. I loved the Jungle area, there is something so primeval about the huge ferns. You could easily get ‘lost’ in the valley and Jungle areas and we spent a good couple of hours walking up, down and across the steep valley.

Well, now we know what to do with those odd bits after a bonfire..

After the ‘Jungle’ we walked through the children’s play area, where there was a swing, and after my go on the slide at the Tower of London’s Superbloom, I couldn’t resist the swing. I loved a swing when I was young, we had one in the garden, held down with metal pegs, and the challenge was to swing high enough to lift the pegs out of the ground and then at the height of the arc, leap off. Wasn’t quite as athletic but I did leap off…😜

After an excellent lunch in Heligan’s own restaurant with lots of the ingredients from Heligan’s own kitchen garden, we popped back to the motorhome and cycled into Mevagissey. I’ve come to the conclusion that in many of these seaside towns unless you want to stuff your face with fish & chips, pasties, pies, fudge and icecream and buy things that would only look at home in a rented coastal cottage, there is not much to do other than admire a narrow street, look at the boats in the harbour or gaze wistfully out to sea like a Scottish Widow. The tide was out so we couldn’t take a trip. So we walked the streets, admired the boats and gazed out to sea with rather less panache than a Scottish Widow.

The cycle down to Mevagissey was lovely, key word being down, on the way back, however….

Only the steepest uphill defeated me, I had nowhere to go on the gears and I gently stepped out the side door and pushed the bike up the last bit, to find I was in good company, with several cyclists taking a break having pushed up the hill. I think Longshanks himself received a small round of applause as of course, he didn’t push!

We timed our return perfectly as the rain that threatened all day, finally fell!

A certain person has developed a worrying habit on return to our motorhome at the end of a long day, apparently sitting in your pants and a T-shirt is far more comfy than shorts or trackies, the spirit of Onslow lives on, next stage is the acquisition of a string vest… I despair 🤦‍♀️.

Tomorrow we leave Heligan and move to a campsite east of St Ives Bay, we are hoping that the weather improves as we are both looking forward to a swim, so come rain and shine in the next 2 days we are going to the beach!

Cream or Jam, Ma’am? Days 2 & 3

Moor, Valleys and a perfect Village

Walking with Woody and Mango, Lindsay & Philip’s dogs

We woke up to torrential rain so the views to the Moor were obscured. On the bright side, Philip was in the kitchen cooking up a storm of his own, the most delicious cooked breakfast. Philip had already popped out and bought 2 copies of The Telegraph, one for each couple. Little did he know that I always buy a newspaper when something of historical significance happens, which is then kept as a momento, so this was a lovely gesture.

We started the morning with a tour of Chagford, it is a really lovely village, with 4 pubs in the High Street, Church, butchers, bakers, lots of independent shops, great farm shop that sells produce from the community allotment, deli, cafes and an open air lido. Chagford is home to the best hardware store ever… hardware doesn’t really do it justice, it is an ‘everything’ store, where you wander through a maze of rooms, up and downstairs where you will find outdoor wear (hence my new cap), toys, cards, craft, kitchenware, garden stuff, plumbing bits, tools, screws, nuts and bolts and every odd and sod you could think of. We visited the flea market in the village hall, bought some local honey and I found a book that I knew a friend would love.

A Rowan tree stands out against the moor

After breakfast, the rain had eased and we headed out onto Dartmoor to walk the dogs. We walked to an ancient stone circle, where a group of people were taking part in some kind of ceremony. Sadly they were just dressed in cagoules and waterproof trousers, rather than Druid’s robes and weren’t really up for chatting so we weren’t sure exactly what they were up to, apart from they had all taken their walking boots off and there was a lot of staring into each other’s eyes. We moved on without taking a photo.

We walked further across the Moor to near where the River Teign rises. Following the recent rains, the river was strong and tumbling over the rocks. We crossed several clapper bridges, ancient bridges formed of slabs of stone.

Raging torrent

Returning to the car we then drove down the narrow lanes to The North Moor Arms, a quirky and very dark pub that makes you think you’ve stepped back 200 years, but with a 17 pounder WWII gun in the car park. I asked why but it didn’t belong to the pub but to a neighbour, it arrived about 18 years ago, but why and what for, who knows. I expected the bar to be full of farmers talking about the price of sheep and the upcoming Dartmoor pony drifts, but we were the only customers, but instead in the gloom, a small TV balanced on the bar played ‘80’s hits and their videos. Lindsay said the tempura prawns were lovely, yet another surprise, so we ordered a couple of plates to share.

After a couple of drinks, we made our way to the bottom of the Teign River valley, catching a bride and her groom having wedding photos taken seemingly in the middle of nowhere. On the outskirts of Chagford we walked along side of the Teign to Fingal Bridge, a 17thC stone arch bridge with a pub right next to it. After drinks and scones for some, we returned to Chagford to catch up on the day’s news and get ready for dinner out later that evening.

The bells of Chagford Church had started tolling and for the next hour or so, their sound rang out across the village to mark the death of Queen Elizabeth.

We had hoped to be eating in The Globe, one of the other excellent pubs in the village, however due to an administrative error by Philip, he had managed to book a table at the pub we had eaten at the night before, which explained the panicked look in the eyes of the staff at The Globe as we asked about our ‘reservation’…. Thank goodness, the Chagford Inn serves excellent food.

The bells tolling for Her Majesty

Village Life

After another excellent Philip breakfast, we popped into village to do some shopping to discover there was an arts event taking place. Local artists opened up their homes and studios to visitors, this was a perfect excuse to explore the village further. On the way we met Watson, a very fat Bassett.

The art theme continued as we then visited a garden/nursery which has a sculpture trail. We all decided that there wasn’t really anything we wanted to take home and looking at some of the prices attached to the pieces, there was a whiff of Emperor’s New Clothes about the majority of the art. The most bizarre piece seemed to be some broken pots at the base of a tree… which may be slightly more collapsed as there was a another piece of art tied to the tree, which I had stepped forward to touch to see what it was made of. We spent a minute looking for ‘Reclaim’ before realising what and where it was…

We also stopped at Spinsters’ Rock, a Neolithic tomb, which I would have much rather had in my garden.

Lindsay had her eye on a chest of drawers at a local auction, so after the sculpture garden, so we made our way to the auction house where we said goodbye to our lovely hosts.

We went to Trebarwith Strand where we watched the tide race in over the rocks before going to our campsite at Heligan.

Cream or Jam, Ma’am?

The day our world changed…

Thursday 8th September started much the same as any other Thursday, apart from we weren’t heading to work, we were heading to Devon and Cornwall for just under a fortnight’s holiday.

It didn’t start well, I woke up with the mother of all headaches and felt shaky and unsteady, with a sense of something in the air, just low blood sugar I thought but it didn’t get better after a good dose of paracetamol and breakfast. I hoped I wasn’t coming down with a bug at the start of our holidays or was it just a strong sense of foreboding?

We packed up the motorhome in between heavy showers and sunshine, timing our runs from the house, in between the worst of the showers and left around lunchtime.

We were heading to Chagford in Devon, to stay for 2 nights with our friends, Lindsay & Philip, who’ve had a house there for over 30 years, before continuing into Cornwall.

The journey consisted of moments of driving through a never-ending car wash and bright, warm sunshine but as the news on the radio started giving out announcements of the Queen’s ill health, my sense of unease grew as the miles sped past. By mid-afternoon, I said to Charlie that I wanted to be in Chagford ready to watch the 6pm news, when I’m sure an announcement that none of us wanted to hear, would be made.

Our journey was sombre as there was a growing realisation that this day had never been destined to be normal. We passed by Stonehenge, spotted a pair of Chinooks flying parallel to us, watched them until they inevitably disappeared over the horizon, only for 2 more military helicopters fly directly overhead. The tone on the radio became more sombre as the afternoon progressed.

We arrived in Chagford to meet Lindsay and Philip, who had only arrived minutes earlier and parked the motorhome in the town’s long-term car park.

Lindsay and Philip’s house was cozy and welcoming filled with family photos, lovely paintings and family heirlooms, as the house has been in the family for many, many years. The topic of the conversation was, of course, the Queen and as we turned on the BBC, a few minutes before 6, we knew, just by looking at Huw Edward’s face that the news would not be good. We speculated that they were waiting for Prince Harry to get to Balmoral before making announcement. As we all now know, the official announcement was made just after 6.30 pm.

We wandered into the village for our dinner reservation at one of the many local pubs, The Chagford Inn. Although it was busy, the mood was quiet and after a really delicious dinner, we returned to the house, we all felt exhausted.

It’s a strange feeling to feel so upset by the death of someone you had never met, seen briefly through the window of a royal car and only ever saw on TV and only seem to hear on Christmas Day or in extraordinary times. Personally I felt a seismic shift, a sense of uncertainty, a sense of loss and the realisation that pole star of our nation had flickered and died. Would King Charles III be able to relight it and keep it burning as bright?

God Save The Queen.

The Queen is dead,
Long live the King!

Rest Easy Ma’am.

A Beaulieu Bank Holiday

We’ve taken advantage of a pop up campsite at Beaulieu in the New Forest over this August Bank Holiday.

We arrived mid afternoon on Friday and then cycled into Beaulieu village, to stretch our legs & take advantage of the lovely weather.

The village is small and very pretty. It is still a surprise to find the New Forest ponies grazing the verges on the roads, many with foals still at foot. I found it disconcerting to see a couple of the foals with their fluffy tails, spread out, fast asleep on the verge, just inches from the traffic! Wanted to take a photo but the traffic meant I would be causing more chaos stopping safely to get the snap!

We then cycled onto Buckler’s Hard, which was a bit underwhelming, interesting to see the remains of the shipbuilding industry and the cottages reminded me of the cottages on the Green at Groombridge. we arrived late afternoon so too late for a boat trip or entry into the museum, however we thought we could grab a drink at the pub hotel before cycling off-road back to Beaulieu. Fate was against us, we walked back to pick the bikes up from bike park and by the time we had returned the pub had closed to non-residents!

Although we had planned a BBQ for the evening, the news that a wood fired pizza ‘horse box’ was on site changed that. Having food delivered in a box, ready to eat fitted the holiday vibe!

We had tickets for Beaulieu on Saturday. Walking in, we were surprised how quiet it seemed for a bank holiday weekend.

We started at the Top Gear exhibition, which featured different cars from Top Gear challenges over the years. The exhibition looked a little tired to be honest and although we both enjoy Top Gear, you would need to a real super fan to be excited by this exhibition.

Next up was The National Motor Museum, far more interesting with enough to keep both enthusiastic motor fans and the casual visitor entertained.

At one point we did wonder if we could pull off an ‘Ocean’s 11’ type of heist as there were a couple of engines and cars that would be handy to have as backups!

We did find Charlie’s ideal car though!

We spent the rest of our time visiting the gardens, Palace House and the SOE Museum. Beaulieu was used as a training centre for SOE agents during WWII. Men and women were trained in signals, undercover ops, field and survival craft, breaking and entering, explosives, killing and also experienced interrogation in an effort to prepare them if captured. Many now famous SOE agents were trained at Beaulieu. Noor Inayat Khan, Violette Szabo and Odette Sansom.

We returned back to the motorhome to watch the F1 Qualifying and then cycled out to the Forest, where we parked the bikes and walked. It was so peaceful and quiet, only disturbed by bees buzzing on the purple heather and the occasional snort of a contented pony.

In one day we had both found something we would like to take home! Can you guess who wanted what?

After a lazy Sunday morning, we walked into Beaulieu village to get some provisions and have a wander. More ponies by the Mill Pond, where they were being fussed by tourists who had just got off the open top bus. We found Patrick’s Patch, a lovely community garden to have a look round and had an icecream.

One of the lovely scarecrows in the garden

By chance, Charlie’s brother Jim and wife Jane had decided to spend a couple of days in the New Forest this Bank Holiday weekend. So mid afternoon they joined at our campsite to watch the F1 Grand Prix, which due to intermittent signal was a frustrating watch for Charlie.

Later that evening we met up again for a lovely meal at The Montagu Arms in the village.

Bank Holiday Monday, we embarked on a whistle stop tour of the New Forest, in Jim’s car. We visited Lymington, Brockenhurst via Sway, out to Rhinefield to drive down the Ornamental Drive, populated by Giant Sequoias & Redwoods. Then we went to Stoney Cross, a former WWII RAF & USAF base where we joined the queue behind the donkeys for an icecream!

A map of what the airfield looked like when operational

Then we stopped in Lyndhurst and then headed off to see if the Ashurst campsite had any space, as we should have headed home today, but we’ve decided to stay another night. Sorry guys, we should be back at work by mid-morning!

Ashurst had space, the campsite is right in the forest, but next to a railway line which is fine as we are only here for a night! There are ponies and cattle wandering through the site and I’m really hoping the ponies stop at ours for a nap.

So disappointed, no ponies stopped by overnight but here’s some I met earlier. Our brief stay in the New Forest is over and we are now heading into work! Every silver lining has a cloud!

From Wells to Wells

Taking advantage of a special Summer offer to pitch up in the grounds of Holkham Hall, we made our way to the Norfolk Coast.

The Holkham Estate is still family-owned and has been in the Coke (pronounced Cook) family from the early 17th Century. The house was built by the 1st Earl of Leicester from 1734. The estate has been at the forefront of agricultural and ecological innovation since and is now thriving not only in farming but other diverse business interests.

We pitched in the gorgeous parkland with herds of fallow and red deer, didn’t see the red deer which was disappointing as we see enough fallow at work.

The park has miles of tracks that can be cycled and the village of Wells-next-to-Sea is a stone’s throw away, so we unloaded our bikes and headed into Wells. The village has a couple of pretty streets and an attractive village green with a couple of pubs, but we were looking for crabs. Big, fat juicy dressed crabs for lunch. The harbour was full of families and their kids crabbing off the harbour wall, we found a seafood stall where we bought a dressed crab and a seafood platter of peeled and shell-on prawns, mussels and a small dressed crab with a small salad. We sat on the harbour wall eating and watched the world go by.

We then cycled out to the beach which is about a mile from Wells, parked up and walked along the beach. The beach is vast, backed by a pine forest, planted by one of the Earls from Holkham to help stabilise the dunes, you see, I said the Coke family were at the forefront of ecological innovation. The beach is lined with gaily painted beach huts and goes on for miles, it is huge and sandy and links up with Holkham Beach along the coast.

We returned to our bikes and cycled along the road to Holkham Beach. After navigating the boardwalk, we arrived at the ‘beach’, well we could see the beach in the far distance and the sea, well not in sight, yes, it was that far away!

We didn’t walk out but headed back to the Holkham Estate and cycled round the park, taking in views of the house, lake, the original icehouse before returning to the motorhome for a well earned rest in the late afternoon sun. The weather had been warm with a warm breeze but as evening drew in the breeze started gusting fiercely. This carried on through the night so much so that Charlie had to get up at 3 am to wind the awning in as we were close to losing it. The night was quite disturbed as it was too warm to close the roof vents or windows so everything inside and out was banging and crashing in the wind.

The next morning was clear, hot & sunny but still with a strong gusty breeze. We cycled back into Wells for provisions and once back at Holkham, we cycled to the 6-acre Walled Garden. Although the recent high temperatures had taken its toll, as with most people’s gardens, it was still a beautiful mix of flowers, vegetables, herbs and exotic fruit.

After the Walled Garden, we stopped off at Holkham’s Cricket Pavilion, where by some strange coincidence, they were selling beer and a local cricket match was about to start. After a quick drink, we then headed to Holkham Hall to tour the house and a really interesting exhibition on the house and the estate.

The family still live in the house so the tour is of the grander rooms and some of the bedrooms, which are still used today when the family have guests. The walls are lined with many family portraits going back generations and one name pricked something in my memory. Portraits of Lady Margaret Tufton, who became Countess of Leicester on her marriage to Thomas Coke, the 1st Earl of Leicester who built Holkham Hall and her sister, Lady Anne Tufton, who later became Countess of Salisbury on her marriage to James Cecil, 5th Earl of Salisbury were hanging on the walls and I knew that the name Tufton appeared in my research into Charlie’s family tree. Lack of phone signal in the house meant I couldn’t access my research but once on the outside….

Once I had signal, a couple of minute’s research revealed that my memory had served me well.

Lady Margaret Tufton, later Countess of Salisbury aka Charlie’s Aunt

Lady Anne Tufton, later to become Countess of Salisbury was the daughter of the 6th Earl of Thanet and Charlie’s 8th Great Grandmother! There was her portrait of her at her sister’s house – Holkham Hall! Next stop Hatfield House.. Anne’s stately home!

Lady Anne Tufton, Countess of Salisbury, Charlie’s Great x 8 Grandma

After that revelation and no, we didn’t invite ourselves back for Afternoon Tea, even though the 1st Countess of Salisbury was Charlie’s Aunt (8th Great-Grand Aunt), we cycled to the beach for a swim.

Charlie having a chat with his very distant cousin, Edward, the 7th Earl. Any resemblance ?

Again although very warm, the breeze was still heavily gusting, and once we had parked up the bikes, we then had the long trek to the sea. The wind whipped up the sand providing free exfoliation and after another long walk into the sea so we could actually swim, we lay on the beach for 20 minutes. But it started to feel like a trial to lie there whipped by the sand, so we began the long walk back to the bikes. We felt really sorry for any families with small children, after a long day on the beach, a 30 minute trek back to the car, isn’t great for hot, tired and hungry toddlers.

At the beach – by the time we had swam, our stuff that had been close to the sea, now seemed even further away.

After a shower to wash off the sand, it really does get everywhere, we retired to the motorhome after BBQing our dinner to watch the F1 highlights out of the wind.

We left on Monday morning, back to the reality of washing and work!

Le Weekend – The Beach Beckons

Our first beach was Gouville sur Mer, where we managed to park next to the beach.

After a lazy couple of hours swimming and snoozing, we retired to the shade under our awning and watched the tide retreat. Being only an hour away from Le Mont, meant when the tide goes out, it’s out, out! As more sand was exposed, out came the fisherman’s tractors to bring in the catches from fishing boats and tend to the mussel rafts that were now visible.

We walked out to the mussel rafts, the beach was alive with hermit crabs, people digging for bait, horses enjoying a gallop on the sands and everyone enjoying the warmer pools of water left behind.

We decided not to spend the night at this spot as it was a narrow verge on a road, so we drove in the direction of the Normandy Beaches.

Passing through Carentan, famous for the Battle of Carentan between US 101st Airborne and the 2nd Armoured Division and German Parachute and Infantry Divisions between 10th & 14th June 1944, just after D-Day.

The part Easy Company played in this battle, led by 1st Lt Richard Winter, is portrayed in the TV series ‘Band Of Brothers’ which follows Easy Company from the preparations to D-Day to the war’s end.

Our overnight stop was on the cliffs above Arromanche, next to the D-Day 75 Garden and with a great view of the remains of the Mulberry Harbour.

In the morning we walked into the town and onto the beach where one of the concrete caissons is now stranded on the beach.

This stature depicts Bill Pendell looking out over the sea and at a artistic representation of him as a young man on the beach on D-Day.

We then drove onto Ver-Sur-Mer to spend time at the British Normandy Memorial, where the names of British service personnel, who were killed between 6 June and 31 August, are listed in chronological order according to their date of death and by Armed Service; Royal Navy, Army, RAF, Merchant Navy and others such as members of SOE & war correspondents.

A very moving and reflective visit to see column after column inscribed with the names, rank and age of the dead.

We were meant to be back at Calais for a mid-afternoon tunnel crossing but moved our booking to early Tuesday morning, so we could be back at work by mid-morning.

The hottest day was spent driving from Arromanche to Boulogne, where we are again parked on the cliffs above the town. A late afternoon swim and BBQ, has rounded off Le Weekend, early night tonight as we have a train to catch!

Le Weekend – Le Mont-Saint-Michel

The drive from Le Crotoy to Mont Saint Michel was a bit painful, a 3 hour drive turned into nearer 5 hours, there was a big queue to cross the double bridge at Le Havre and other hold ups but we arrived mid afternoon. We had booked the nearest campsite to the Mont. There are huge car parks on the mainland, similar to the set up at theme parks, then you walk into the small village area, where there are restaurants, a couple of hotels, a big gift shop and the campsite. Access by vehicle into this area is restricted and we were given a code to get through the barrier to access the campsite. This is an extra 9Euros on top of your campsite fee. Once you are in the village area, you can either catch a free shuttle bus across the causeway to the Mont, walk or cycle the mile & a half. Cycling to the Mont is on trial until September, usually you would park your bike in the village area and take the shuttle or walk.

Approaching Le Mont-Saint-Michel across a sea of corn

After a late lunch, we set off to walk to the Mont, the temp was still in the high 30’s, but there was a breeze coming off the sea, but as it was low tide, the sea was 15 km away!

The tide goes out 15 km, this view is zoomed in from the dam

On the causeway – it looks quiet but it was a lucky shot, the bus queues are on the other side and Charlie is disguising the bus behind him!

Once you are on the Mont, top tip avoid the lower village area! When we walked through the main entrance you are greeted by a medieval street, but the overwhelming feeling was that I had been transported to Disney or the Shrek film where Shrek and Donkey visit Duloc. Avoid this area like the plaque, head for the ramparts or any side street to make your way to the Abbey, unless you want to jostle with the crowds for crepes, frites, ice cream and naff souvenirs at overinflated prices.

Not many visitors actually head for the top of the Mont as you have to pay to enter the Abbey, but it is quieter, cooler and architecturally impressive. The engineering and technical expertise required to build such a huge structure on a rocky, steep sided tidal island is impressive. No wonder it took 1,300 years to build!

The Nun was standing dead centre and then she moved!

These columns have a circumference of about 8 meters and they hold up the Abbey, the higher up, the lighter the materials used, so wooden vaulted ceilings rather than carved stone and slender pillars.

10 of these huge columns holding up the edifice are visible in this area – we are standing underneath the main Abbey

There is not much to see in the Abbey precincts, which has been a prison and a fortress apart from the impressive architecture and views of estuary. No displays of medieval monastic life, or grim prison conditions. In the evening there is a light show within the Abbey but we didn’t stay for that. There are still a small group of monks and nuns who live at the Abbey but its heyday was in the Middle Ages.

We walked back across the causeway which was marginally quicker than the shuttle bus, as the queues were huge.

We spent the rest of the warm evening, relaxing on our pitch & it had to be a BBQ for dinner. Temp didn’t drop below 31 until late and about 10.30 pm we walked back out to the dam, to watch the sky darken. We were hoping that the Mont would be dramatically lit at night, but it wasn’t spectacularly so, but I did spend some time trying to get the reflection in the water as the tide was in.

The motorhome was pleasantly cool despite the high temps and we slept really well. Sunday – a day at the beach is planned, after a quick provisions stop.

Le Weekend – Le Crotoy

BC (before Covid), we bulk purchased 10 Eurotunnel crossings, thinking 2020 would be a year of travelling. We didn’t have a motorhome then, we would just take the car and stop wherever the notion took us. Well we all know how 2020/2021 turned out, so we are now using up our crossings and a weekend in France beckoned!

We didn’t want to drive too much as this is the weekend of the HEATWAVE and apparently we shouldn’t leave the house, we should shut the curtains and retire the deepest darkest recesses of our houses to escape!

Well, we are heading to Le-Mont-Saint-Michel in a tin can, so pray for us😜

After a short drive from Calais, our overnight stop is Le Crotoy, a seaside town in the Baie de Somme. It is a pretty seaside town with a small port, beaches, lots of seafood restaurants and a holiday atmosphere. There are couple of standard seaside attractions, like candy floss and a carousel on the promenade, but also a regular programme of events on the promenade. Last night there was a rock band playing.

The overnight stop is just a big car park that has capacity for 100 motorhomes, you can fill up with fresh water and empty waste water and toilet, but other than that is is very basic. However it right in the town so easy access to shops, restaurants and bars. There are lots of cycle and walking routes into the surrounding countryside and beaches. Le Crotoy is 60 miles across the Channel from Hastings but the scenery and land is similar to Romney and Camber, flat with marshy inlets.

Lucky to get one of the last spaces, we are squeezed in at the back somewhere!

Although the parking stop is not pretty, it is quiet, everyone is good natured and at around 9 am every morning, the baker’s van arrives selling fresh bread straight from the oven, croissants, pain au raisin, pain au chocolate and other delights.

We had a delicious meal at Le Commerce in town, I had plate of prawns as a starter, Charlie had Tuna Tartare, then I had Moules and Charlie had the Selection de Poissonerie, which was fish (didn’t manage to suss what type, a firm white fish, not cod, monkfish or hake) with a crispy crumb, served with a lemon & white wine sauce on a bed of braised leeks. We couldn’t manage dessert but they all looked cream heavy, in fact, seemingly mountains of whipped cream!

If I had a house in France, I’d like it to look like this!

A walk along the seafront, where we captured a host of hot air balloons drifting across the estuary and then back to the motorhome for a very restful night. It was surprisingly cool in the motorhome and we didn’t really wake up until the hoot of the baker’s van alerted us to the prospect of warm baguette!

Next stop – Le-Mont-Saint-Michel..