This morning, after yet more rain during the night, the damp air gripped us. The forecast for this afternoon was for an improving picture, and we hoped that it would be. Our journey from Monbert, along roads we've both cycled and driven a few times before brought back memories. It was 17c, hardly the temperature you'd expect in south west France in early September. In Oban, west Scotland, today's temperature was set to hit 25c. Perhaps we should have travelled to Europe during May and June, and saved Scotland for the autumn. Who knows? The sunflowers, that stretched as far as the eye could see, also seemed a little miffed by the weather. They hung their heads low, also praying for some much needed sun. Marge has performed well so far on this trip, until today, when she decided to have a hot flush. Giving her a minute to compose herself we were soon on our way. We topped her up with fuel, the forty five pounds worth we'd filled her with before leaving Poole had taken us south of Nantes, which we were very pleased about. We hope there will be no more incidents. Do you hear us Marge? Our destination today was Marsilly. A small village on the Atlantic coast, and right on the Velodysee cycle route, which nine years ago, to celebrate John's 60th birthday we cycled. Beginning at St. Malo, and finishing below Hendaye where we crossed just into Spain. It took us eleven days. We'd allowed thirty. So, not bad going. Last year we cycled a section of the route again. We have also driven this way on a couple of occasions. Ask Angela where she loves to visit whilst in France, and in no particular order she'll tell you, Camping Rural les Relais des Garennes, Monbert, the Atlantic coast, the Loire Valley, and of course Mayenne, home to Chateau de la Motte Husson, where we may stop off on our return journey to Cherbourg. Tonight we consider we have the best spot at the park up.
The other vans, all French, are in the main parking area. Marge has her own secluded spot in the 'English section' right at the end on the edge of a field. The golden stubble of a ripened crop awaits the plough to bury it deep into the sandy soil below, and wild fennel, with its distinctive aniseed aroma wafts around us. Behind us are views of the open countryside. In front the Atlantic ocean, and the coastline stretching towards La Rochelle.
The suspended huts of the shrimp fisherman line the foreshore. The sun has been shining since we arrived mid afternoon, and the temperature rose into the low twenties. The whole area looks beautiful. We are hopeful of a beautiful sunset. Let's hope we are not disappointed.
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