Blog 2.11 - Charente and Onwards

Sunday 28th May 2023

Glorious weather to wake up to again in Confolens.

We breakfasted on very fresh and very good croissants and equally good coffee (there's a cliché if ever there was one) and Admin got on with her favourite task of trucking the washing over to the site's washing machine. Hopefully that's the last time for this trip. I busied myself with a few van jobs and by anchoring the airer down. The last thing we want is a sudden breeze setting our kecks on a voyage towards the Atlantic.

The other side of extended van-touring: Chinese Laundry á la Rivière

Apart from that, and ordering pizzas from the on-site pizza van, it's going to be a very lazy day in the sun, reading, and watching the trout jump for insects on the Vienne.

Lurvely.

Last night we met M's cousins Rob and Graham at the chip-oil at the end of the St Germain road in Confolens, just a five minute walk from here.

It's run by a very nice couple from oop north somewhere, and who have built a solid reputation among the local Brits (and French I shouldn't wonder), one of whom, a much older gentleman, had driven over an hour for his regular Friday Chippy Tea (and to bend the ear of anyone who would listen!). Here's to many more, chap.

The only downside was that they didn't have any haddock in, boo-hiss, so I was limited to my least favourite white fish, cod.

It wasn't bad though as cod goes, and the chips and peas were decent too.

We finished off with a couple of wets at the sports bar just down the road in the market square before bidding a fond adieu to the brothers.

Until the next time!

Monday

A lovely way to start the day. Breakfast in the sun, watching the (hundreds of) fish breaching the river's surface harvesting theirs. It was only slightly marred by the itchy bite lumps on my legs and hands from last night! Still, I've done well as these are the first bites of the nine weeks, so far, trip. I'm always a magnet for mozzies, etc.

We then wandered into town, knowing everything would be closed as it's a publicholiday, but were surprised to find the Hotel open for lunch. How could we say no?

I'd quite overlooked the fact that this place was also open last year on a day when virtually everything else was closed, but last time we just had coffees.

This time it was coffees and two courses. I wasn't too confident of it being anything special - they had a fairly captive market after all - but it was excellent fare, and served in an open, covered area by the main river crossing.

It wasn't cheap-cheap, but fair value, and no complaints from either of us.

Having finished off with a walk around the tiny back streets, we headed home for a tough session of feet-up, with ice tea and a view, in the sun - and decided there and then to stay one more night!

Mundane, I know, but we've had the roll-out Thule awning out here; only the second time on the trip. It's good to have some shade.

However, as it got a trifle breezy I decided to add the tie-down straps. These attach to the top of each awning leg and peg to the ground, thus preventing lift. On tensioning them, though, the extendable legs started 'un-extending' thereby causing a major problem. Considering we've only used the awning about six times since we've had it, a year, that's pretty naff, and points to the over-centre cam mechanism within the sliding parts of the leg being either, a poor design, or, worn out.

Plastic cam lever in 'off', down, position. You can see the steel bearing plate just above it in the depths of the leg section if you look carefully.

Actually, I'll go for both, which really isn't a good look for Thule who allegedly make good kit.

Anyhow, after much fiddling around and failing to make any improvement, I hit upon the idea of feeding a zip-strap into the space between the plastic cam lever and the steel plate it bears on. Bingo. Solid as a rock now.

Bodge fix complete and cam lever lifted into position trapping nylon zip-strap

It's really not a very impressive design though, and I shall be having words on my return. Harrumph.

Like I said, mundane, but if you ever find youself in a similar position...

Tuesday

Breaking the fast in the sun again, while watching the fish glint as they flip-flop over the river's tranquil surface in search of whatever winged delicacies they desire.

I'll stick wi brioche and marmalade, thanks.

Still on the Spanish Lidl 'Naranja Laranca' (it's become my standard term for marmalade) jam, which is rather good, as we discovered last year.

Today was going to be our final day on the site, and we had intended packing up and calling in a few miles up the road at St Germain de Confolens for lunch at Patavrap, by the river before heading north.

We were shown this place last year, and discovered that they do wonderful burgers and chips, so we just had to try it again. Happily, having decided another night at Confolens was in order, we were able to use the bikes instead, and take our time.

I was slightly worried that the food wouldn't live up to our memories and expectations, but no, it was every bit as good. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that the burgers are even better than my old yardstick, Miller's Burgers in Dearborn, Michigan. And they take some beating!

Feeling somewhat full after our repast we bravely/foolishly decided to press on through St Germain for a bit of sightseeing, then cross the Vienne by the old bridge there and return to Confolens town centre.

St Germain and the Chateau

We called in at the quirky little bar on the west bank of the river, right by the old traffic-free Pont Vieux bridge,

for Schweppes Agrumes (the lovely owner was so upset that he couldn't serve us with our initial order of biere sans alcohol as he'd run out and his delivery wasn't until tomorrow. No worries; Agrumes are absolutely fine). It's a shame we hadn't discovered the bar before, but I seem to recall it was closed last year when we looked.

Next time!

Then, back to the site for tea and feet-up time with the Kindle.

Wednesday

Warm and sunny again. Moving day though, so time to pack away all the extra stuff like awning, chairs, tables, mats etc, which means it takes so much longer than usual.

We set off, past Patavrap and through the very narrow street of St Germain, and followed winding D roads, mainly along the Vienne valley floor, finishing at Descartes.

The small town, which has had three names during its existence, finally being labelled for its most famous son, sits on the River Creuse, a major tributary of the Vienne and the border between the Department of Vienne itself and Indre-et-Loire.

Quirky gate

We crossed that border three times this afternoon, once in the van, and twice on foot via the Pont Henri IV which links Descartes in Indre, and St. Jacques in Vienne.

More on the chequered history of the bridge shortly.

First though, we walked into Descartes, to discover that, although attractive in the usual shabby French fashion, it has certainly suffered with regard to closures of businesses. Many businesses!

The disused railway station, giving away one of the former names of the town (La Haye-Descartes)

Still, we managed to find a bar open by the central square, beneath the facade of the former Hotel de Ville (now the Mairie) and a few metres from the statue commemorating the multi-faceted Rene Descartes himself.

Fortunately we found a bit of shade as the temperature was now nudging 30°C.

Beers (well, near-beers as some would say) sunk we walked back to the river and the aforementioned bridge.

As alluded to, it was named for Henri IV, but back then was not much more than a dangerously narrow footway. Later, it was widened considerably, and this was to prove to be its downfall (literally) in 1940, when the retreating French army blew up the Descartes end to slow the advancing Germans.

The monument on the bridge to the Resistance fighters who fell defending the town

That wasn't to be the end of its war though, as once again, in 1944, the Free French dropped the St. Jacques end!

I wonder what old Rene would have made of it all, although I do think he'd have remained philosophical...

The happy ending came in 1958 when the bridge was rebuilt to its current form.

We crossed into St Jacques, bought croissants, tarte au citron, and Agrumes, and walked back to our berth in a car park on the Descartes side with a view of the river.

Thursday

Another cloudless and very warm morning greeted us after an exceptionally peaceful night. This is a park-up I'd have absolutely no trouble pointing anyone at. River view, and nobody else around. What's not to like?

Well, maybe the croissants - but that's not the park-up's doing. They were down to the boulangerie across the bridge. Small and fairly taste-free, they were without doubt the worst we've had - but that's certainly not going to cloud our judgement of this place.

Maybe we'll buy them from this side of the river next time.

We headed north again in the rough direction of Tours and Le Mans, and found ourselves initially on some superb D and RN roads, and eventually on much narrower twisties heading for Bouloire, a few miles east of that motor-racing city.

Those twisties were beautiful too. Narrow, but with care, no problem. The countryside hereabouts reminds me of parts of England. Maybe Sussex? Green, heavily forested in parts, and rolling not unlike downland.

Gorgeous - and helped by the glorious weather of course.

We called in at a convenient Aldi to buy the makings of lunch and to stock up on two varieties of lemon beers; so refreshing when chilled.

Then, soon enough, we were pitched at the Camping-Car Park aire just outside Bouloire, and what a beauty it is. It's just a single row of well-spaced pitches with trees between, and all surrounded by mature trees and grassy banks.

Another triumphant pick by Admin.

There were two small issues today, mind. Firstly a small piece of plastic trim dropped off the front skylight with a right clatter. It popped back on easily enough, but doesn't feel especially secure, so will get a small dab of silicone or Sikaflex on our return home. The second, slightly more alarming (initially) problem was that of the gear knob springing off its lever and landing with a pronounced 'bonk' on the cab floor. I wondered what the hell it was until I went to engage first ready to drive onto the levelling ramps...

Fortunately all it required was to prise off the knob's top cap and to re-insert and tighten the small hex-head that secures knob to shift lever. It'll get a dab of Loctite when I get the opportunity (no, I didn't pack any...).

Maybe Stellantis could consider adopting that strategy on the assembly track?

The aire may be tranquil. Almost idyllic. But you can't say that of the little town only a few minutes walk away.

It's fairly attractive with an imposing chateau right in the centre, adjacent to the church which had just hosted a wedding.

However, the main through-road is horrendously noisy with what felt like a constant stream of heavy trucks blasting through in both directions.

It was nice to get back to the peace of the aire and a cold drink in the shade.

Further north in the morning...

Friday

I'm so glad we made it here a week before the Vingt-Quatre Heures du Mans. I've been to that festival of speed once before, to see Jaguar take first and second if I recall, and it's absolute chaos. I can imagine the aires will all be full around here this time next week.

Time to get up to Normandy methinks.

I awoke rather early - nothing to do with the aire, which is extremely quiet - and couldn't get back off, so started the day at six-thirty. It was much cooler and greyer too, so a shirt was a necessary addition over the usual T-shirt. Shorts remain the order of the day though; I'm not succumbing to anything else, and besides, the forecast is for the murk to clear and normal service to be resumed.

And so it transpired, and we were soon heading towards Normandy in clear, warm sunshine.

The target was what has been described by many as 'the prettiest village in France' - and who am I to argue.

Beuvron-en- Auge is indeed rather ravishing as we found out after setting off on foot from the very secluded aire for just a short amble to the centre,

The Station next door. The Aire is on a long-disused railway line

following a lunch of baguette with cheeses and ham, and rather odd coffee eclairs (never did like coffee flavoured anything. Except coffee. Love coffee!).

It's a tiny place, basically one street with a square off it, but it's beautifully preserved (and renovated!) although it could be said to be verging on the twee.

There are, unsurprisingly, quite a few small businesses, and being French, unsurprisingly many were closed for the afternoon, although several were almost reluctantly coming back to life by 4:30.

We did manage to find coffee at the local Tabac, and good it was too, and I seem to have sprung for another hat for Admin.

The sad thing though, for a lapsed cider-lover like myself, is that there are several cidre producers here. Ah well, I'll content myself with a couple of bottles of Jus de Pomme and one of Jus de Poire from the orchards that line each side of the village.

Mileage so Far: 2942