Saint Jean Pied de Port

Yet more rain during the night and early this morning. The ground is saturated and the long grass along the verges hangs lank. Everywhere looks tired. Summer has gone, autumn, well it's not started well. Before leaving this morning we topped Marge up with eighty euros worth of fuel. Make it last Marge. She probably wont be able to as the terrain is beginning to be a little challenging. We are now in the French Pyrenees. The early drive took us through open countryside, today's autumn colours various shades of red. Very pretty. 

We happened upon a classic car garage, where there were many Land Rover's awaiting restoration. We couldn't believe it. The miserable weather dominated, and we felt we'd returned to Scotland, where it's probably beautiful sunshine now. Marge isn't happy. There were plenty of hills to challenge her, and her temperature gauge rose a little too high on more than one occasion. We think she may need a new viscose fan, but the thought of ordering yet another part from England and having to wait forever for it to arrive doesn't appeal. So we'll just have to drive her slowly up the hills and keep our fingers crossed. In the sky above us, golden eagles rose and fell on the thermals. perhaps they could be Marge's guardian angels. Doesn't make for a very relaxing holiday does it Marge?

We are now in the Basque country staying in the town of Saint-Jean-Pied-De-Port. This is the main town where people set off to walk the Camino de Compostela, and the town was full of pilgrims.

Some 'doing it properly', as Angela says, and others with large suitcases on wheels which will be driven to tomorrows overnight stop.

 We spent a while this afternoon walking around the interesting medieval town. Most of the refuges in the main street were full. Prices seemed to range from thirteen euros, sharing with goodness knows how many other people in a dormitory, to ninety euros for a double room with en-suite.

At one of the refuges, a mature lady, waylaid two men in their sixties, engaged them in conversation, but didn't manage to lure them in. We could imagine the conversation. We're full, but there's room available for you to bunk up with me. Being in the town, a town we'd never thought we'd visit, made us both feel we should either walk or cycle the Way of Saint James. We did buy a book many years ago about making the trip, but as always, there's always another place we must visit. Angela would really prefer to walk it, as it would be a totally different experience to anything else we've ever done. Next year she's sixty five, and John's seventy. Perhaps this is the trip to celebrate?

Tonight we are staying on the town's municipal campsite. Cost around ten pounds. John wasn't impressed with the shower water temperature earlier, so Angela hopes by the morning the boiler might have replenished the supply of hot water. There is plenty on the site to interest John, a couples Durston X-Mid tent, and a beautifully restored VW T25 campervan. 

 Fortunately the nights are still warm, so we'll be cosy in Marge. As for the lady at the refuge, Madam Marge, as of course we named her, let's hope she found a couple of men to keep her cosy. 

Pomarez

The rain fell relentlessly through the night, and we sympathised with the cycle tourists pitched further up the campsite. Been there, done that, will probably do it again. But despite the rain it is warm, so that's something. At a quarter to midday we were off. It seemed like all the staff at the campsite had known of our dilemma, and they asked, 'are you leaving today', and gave us the thumbs up. A big thank you to the staff at Yelloh camping for being so helpful whilst we waited for a parcel we were beginning to think would never arrive.

Come on Marge, we're outta here! Our onward drive took us across the Landes. A flat terrain that we've always travelled through along the coast. But the forecast today is for yet more heavy rain and strong winds so took a route slightly inland through the pine forests. Blackened tree stumps, a sad reminder of last years forest fires greeted us. The signs of autumn were evident, ferns the colour of bronze and leaves of pale green and yellow all looking sad in the wet conditions. Amongst the pine trees though, a welcome flash of colour. A carpet of pale purple heather looked beautiful in the damp miserable landscape.

At lunchtime we found a lovely lunch spot in the village of Moustey. the local church there is one of many along the 137km Compostela route through the Landes. We wanted to look inside the very old church and were pleased when just after two a priest arrived to unlock the door, so we could take a peak inside. The rain now abated, not for long we felt, we readied to leave just as two silver vans driven by 'men in suits' arrived. A funeral was obviously about to take place. Time to go Marge. Yet more rain fell, and despite it being warm at 20 c we wondered if it would be sunny when we reached 'Viva Espana'. Talk on the campsite at Bordeaux amongst some people was which port would be best to sail back to the U.K. from. Angela wondered if we might be better catching a ferry back from Bilbao in northern Spain to Portsmouth. Yes it's expensive. Yes it takes almost two days. And of course we'd need to pay for a cabin. And yes the crossing might be rough as you sail through the Bay of Biscay. But when you add up the cost of fuel for Marge and her wear and tear, plus the fact France will be cold at the end of October, particularly at night, we felt it might be an idea to consider. We have a flex ticket booked for October 31st from Cherbourg to Poole which we can change or cancel up to four hours before the sailing, so we've time yet to decide.

We are now nearing the lower slopes of the French Pyrenees, and although in France we are now in bull fighting country! The houses with their long sloping roofs nestle the green lush landscape. Not long now Marge, and you'll be in Spain! Unfortunately there's more wet weather to contend with. It looks like it'll be Saturday or even Sunday before it settles. We can't wait. Bring on the shorts weather.

Yelloh! Village Camping Bordeaux Lac (Day 11)

Angela says she feels ninety percent better today. Good. The thought of spending another day on the site didn't appeal so we decided to take the tram into Bordeaux. But not before saying goodbye to cyclists Steve and Michelle, who fed up with the colder nights and rain have decided to curtail their cycling trip and return to England to visit relatives and drop off all their cycling gear. Tonight they will be in Nantes. We love that area, especially as it's where the Loire a`Velo cycle route begins. We wish them well with their future travels. Obviously, we had to book on the campsite for another night. The cost nothing! Zilch! It was Free! Stay for ten nights and the eleventh is gratuit, as the French say. As always Bordeaux was busy.

The season here is all year round, and we're told a night in the hostel, sharing with four other people in a room, is three hundred euros for two people! Angela was hungry, and as we walked through the retail area of the town she spotted a Thai street food restaurant.

Why not, we'd saved thirty two euros on tonight's campsite fee. The meal was delicious, and excellent value for money. And then, a message arrived on John's mobile to say our parcel had been delivered. What?

Some really large vans have arrived on the site today, and now one of our views is of really large satellite dishes. Why pitch up and sit in your van watching television. There's a beautiful city to visit just down the road. Once again the rain is falling steadily, we are lucky we're able to dry our washing outside under the awning. An early shower this evening for Angela. Just her and another couple who at first Angela thought were sharing a cubicle, the man exclaiming how 'wonderful he felt'. Turned out he was just glad the water was hot. Another hour, when the marathon dish washing began, he'd find it positively orgasmic, in a different way. The shower water is a tad cool. We can't believe we have been here nearly two weeks. But tomorrow we'll be off. Yes we will. The good news is, gas strut is fitted!

Yelloh! Village Camping Bordeaux Lac (Day 10)

A German hire van containing a family of four, God that must be cramped, prepared to leave. It had been sighted opposite us next to the Eriba caravan. With less sun each day, our leisure battery which relies on solar isn't topping up quite as much as we'd like, and the pitch opposite not only has a great view, it has more sun. So we've arranged to move. Angela is really unwell. All night she has been suffering with abdominal pain and didn't rise until lunchtime. She has a terrible upset stomach, we know that you don't really need to know the details, but the boxio has taken a hammering. We think she probably picked a bug up on the public transport we've been using or at one of the public toilets, which are nearly always disgusting. We've observed that not a lot of hand washing takes place on the campsite, and obviously we do and always use hand sanitiser.

The afternoon was therefore spent reading and resting. She felt like the walking dead. The Jesus sticker on the caravan next to us began to concern her. Life in France was taking a turn for the worse. Still no gas struts by the way. 

Yelloh! Village Camping Bordeaux Lac (Day 9)

One of the smallest caravans on the market, the Eriba, is parked on the pitch opposite and it's blocking our view of the lake. Thanks. On the rear window a sticker reads 'Jesus Loves You'. Does he indeed. I suppose that's better  Than 'Jesus wants you for a sunbeam', now that would be cause for concern. A lady we'd met the previous evening had asked how much our luggage weighed when we were cycling. Around 12 kg. What! Her make up bag weighed more than that! Well what can you say? The mornings are a little cooler now, and the breeze has begun laying a carpet of gold and yellow as leaves fall from the trees that provide much needed shade during the summer. having explored most of Bordeaux we are finding it hard to occupy ourselves, so we just cycled out to a Lidl for some shopping.

Angela felt a little out of sorts, so we weren't out long. During the afternoon we spent some time talking to cyclists Steve and Michelle, before settling down for the evening. We are at the point of wondering if we should wait for the package from England to arrive, or just move on. It feels like we may never receive it. So we'll sleep on it for another night.

What a beauty, the Dutch couple who converted it have owned it for 15 years!

Yelloh! Village Camping Bordeaux Lac (Day 8)

Today was a chill day. it had rained steadily all night and as we had no reason to rise early, we didn't. Getting up at ten. A mass exodus was in place as the vans heading south departed. Despite the showers it was warm, and we could sit out under are awning. The full sign went up outside the site early afternoon, so Angela booked us on for yet another night on Monday. Costs are adding up. But we dare not move.

John decided to use the time today to learn how to use his drone, with the help of Australian cyclist Steve. We are right under the flight path for Bordeaux airport which we though may be a problem. But is wasn't. After registering the drone and becoming confident John had it flying. This will be a game changer when posting photos on our blog. The weather settled late afternoon and our washing dried under the awning we felt today had been a useful day, despite not leaving the site. Postal services resume tomorrow. What would the postman bring us?