Valence d'Agen, France

We wanted to leave not too late this morning. So a quick stop at Lidl and we were away. Toulouse here we come. Or perhaps not. You've guessed it, Marge just wouldn't stop heating up. So after a while, in the middle of the French countryside, goodness knows where we stopped her at the side of the road. John opened her bonnet and proceeded to remove the screw that held the cap to release air from one of her coolant hoses. Then events took a turn for the worse, he dropped the cap into the engine bay! With no cap, the coolant began to escape. At which point should we give in? Marge you're becoming just too much. We are starting to wonder if we're overthinking Marge's problem. The temperature gauge rarely moves from its correct position. It's the nano-com connected to the ecu that shows the temperature increasing. Only once did the needle on the gauge go into the red whilst in Scotland, and we slogged up some big ole hills whilst there. Should we abandon the nano-com and just drive by the gauge? Probably too late now. We'd always wonder what the reading was. If you're our age, or older, you'll remember the good old days when your dad changed the thermostat which was positioned on top of the radiator by removing two screws. Job done. Overheating problem solved. Problem with the fan belt. Easy. Whip off your tights wife, they always made a good substitute. Now it's all computers and sensors constantly complaining. As we sorted Marge out, the temperature rose outside. Nice. Well for us, probably not Marge. But being stuck out in the middle of nowhere was worrying. Would this moment be Marge's demise. No. John found the cap. And at that moment how grateful were we to the young man at Norauto for giving us a nearly full large container of coolant. Our planned trip to Toulouse aborted, we headed north to Valence d'Agen where there was a municipal campsite still open. Arriving just after one, the campsite reception closed until four, we accessed the site by foot, ate lunch at one of the picnic tables, washed some smalls and waited.

The site is very nice. It's like staying in a lovely park. Well Marge, you've excelled yourself today. We travelled about thirty miles. As soon as we could book in, we showered, washed yet more clothes and then walked up to the nearby town, which on the approach we realised we'd visited before last year whilst cycling.

Then a snacky meal to end the day whilst the sun went down, turning the sky pink, then mauve, then orange.

As we ate we could hear music nearby. 'I was lost in France, with my coolant seeping out'.

 Shut up Marge. Not funny. John, turn up the Gypsy Kings!

Fleurance, France

The rain fell into the trees above us all night, Then this morning when a watery sun broke through early, they slowly shed the water caught in them all over Marge. The last twenty four hours had felt miserable. In fact life had felt miserable for the last few days. Thanks Marge. As the morning brightened, the sun gained warmth and the bronze leaves that covered the cycle path glowed. We were away in good time. Keen to just get on with the drive, and hopefully arrive at our next destination around lunchtime. But we'd only travelled about a quarter of a mile when we had to stop and look at the pretty village church.

But we must away Marge. John had rigged up the nano-com diagnostic device so that it was in front of him and he could monitor it himself without Angela constantly reading out figures to him from it. Our journey was slow as we weaved our way across the French countryside, driving up and down dale, all the time crossing everything for Marge not to let us down. Every few miles we found ourselves stuck behind farm vehicles too wide for the road, so we were unable to pass. We were in the Midi-Pyrenees region and the vendage, or grape harvest was in full swing. Up on the slopes sunflowers, their heads blackened and bowed in defeat awaited their turn for harvest, and alongside the road, the corn cobs now hidden behind dried brittle leaves knew the combine would come for them soon. We were in Armagnac country, and every few miles a sign invited you in for a tasting. Tempting, but a no we're afraid. The seductive aroma of the countryside filled our nostrils. High above the surrounding countryside with spectacular views over the open French countryside we happened upon an art exhibition.

At first we though it was something to do with sheep and wool. It wasn't. It was art! Marge performed well. Well, well for Marge of recent. No major dramas. John thinks her problem may be an airlock in her coolant system. Do you have trapped wind Marge? It was nice to arrive at Fleurance by early afternoon.

After lunch we walked into town, the architecture a mix of medieval, modern, with a banana tree thrown in. We'd missed this.

Our days of late seem to consist of worrying about Marge, visiting garages, googling coolant faults and thinking too much about all the negatives. Come on Marge, give us some positive vibes now please. The aire we are staying at is free. So there's a result. Nearly everyone here is French and they're not very friendly, which surprised us as it's the first time we've experienced this since arriving in France over four weeks ago. So it's us, a German and Dutch van. The Dutch van behind us, as we do have their smalls hung out to dry. The Dutch bra swinging in the breeze outside our back door perhaps not so small. You could carry a couple of edam cheeses in that! A few days ago when we were at Ondres-Plage we discussed where do the van lifers in France hang out, as you very rarely see any. Well it seems here at Fleurance. There are at least four here, and they're not youngsters. John wanted to work on Marge's coolant bottle but didn't have the right size socket, but he knew one of these people would probably be carrying tools and may be able to help him out. Opposite us is a family of three living in a bus. Result. They had the socket set he needed. Is life looking up? We hope so Marge.

Bougue, France

It was no surprise this morning we felt tired. Of course our neighbour hid in his van. Probably a good idea as Angela was ready for him. The previous evening we had helped an English couple access the site by paying with our debit card, as their one wouldn't work, (probably not registered), and them giving us a twenty euro note. We were nearly four euros up. Angela's dad would have been proud of her. They had been sited on the other side of you-tube man, and they'd been able to hear the noise inside their van. As you do on campsites and Aires, we spent a while talking to them before they left. They were en-route to A'Coruna in norther Spain to visit the wife's family. Angela asked why they didn't take the longer sailing from Portsmouth to Bilbao or Santander. It wasn't for them. The ships were old and the sailing through the Bay of Biscay was normally a little uncomfortable. Or the 'Bucket of Biscuits' as they called it. Love that. The rain had eased, and over at the payment terminal a small green frog, obviously also fed up with the rain sought shelter.

We left later than planned, spending a while talking to the couple from Preston, Ken and his wife, whose name we forgot to ask. Angela suggest they head back up the coast and stay at the Ile de Re. Hopefully they will. It is beautiful there. Today has felt cold. It is just 16 c. Quite a contrast with yesterday. Please return, warm, dry, sunny weather. Well not too warm obviously. Marge it seems doesn't like the heat. We have driven for two hours today. It has been a little tense.

But now we are parked in a wooded area by the voie vert cycle path at Bougue. Have we cycled it in the past? Maybe. The rain drips onto Marge from the trees above. There is no one else here. A lady dog walker appeared whilst John cooked a cous cous meal we'd bought at the Intermarche supermarket earlier.

We have made a plan to drive towards Toulouse, then along the coast in the direction of Marseille, turning north to Avignon, then following the river Rhone to Lyon, crossing into the Loire and then continuing to Cherbourg. The drive from Avignon will take in towns we cycled through this time last year when we cycled the Via Rhona cycle route. But this is our plan. Whether we can stick to it obviously depends on Marge! It would be nice if we could be on the same page Marge. What do you think?

Ondres Plage, France (Day 3)

After yet another beautiful sunset the previous evening, Angela awoke around 4 am.

The sea now calmed, drifting back and forth, sucking at the sand. The voices of the cicadas could now be heard, no longer drowned out by deafening breakers as they hit the shore. John woke to a beautiful sunrise on his side of the pop-up roof.

The young couple next to us left to spend a night in the Loire, before heading to Calais and taking the Le Shuttle through the tunnel back to England on Wednesday. Angela smiled about the wife's reaction when her husband suggest we look in the rear of their van at the bathroom area. Why do our partners do that? It means us woman are on constant alert that our facilities must be clean, tidy and in order. John normally wants to open the rear door of  Marge whilst Angela is having an intimate moment with her Boxio, which results in her shouting, 'I'm on the toilet!'. Did you all hear that? The Aire was both popular and entertaining. The Dutch couple opposite ran a vac over their three dogs before setting off. As you do. As for us, we wished we hadn't spent so much time chatting as the gas strut on the opposite side to the one John replaced bent as he lowered the lifting roof.

Fortunately we had a spare, but come on. What a holiday this was turning out to be. Stress levels were already high, what with Marge playing up. And all a couple from Yorkshire had to worry about was would they be able to plug into an electrical supply each night in Spain and Portugal. Uh, probably not, unless you can find a campsite open. And why do you need to? Oh, of course. You need to be able to use your Ninja air fryer, which is a game changer. Certainly changing your figures! 32 c this afternoon. We know. Marge, please hang in there.

We left after lunch and stopped at a garage claiming to be a 4x4 specialist. Which they really weren't. There was a Land Rover 110 TD5 parked outside. Good start. No they couldn't help. The woman in the office saying, 'we hate Land Rover'. O.K. After trying another garage with a shop attached like Halfords, where we thought we would be able to buy coolant, we couldn't, we were directed to another garage and shop about 12 km away. We'd like to say a very big thankyou to the young man at Noraauto who helped us with advice. And when the last container of the coolant Marge required sold of the shelf, he went out into the workshop and bought a large part used one in which he gave us for Free. Yes, gratuit. We were now in the town of Labenne. About fifteen minutes from Ondres-Plage, and as it was late afternoon by now it made sense to return to the Aire where we'd spent the last two nights. A couple from Preston who'd we'd become friendly with were surprised to see us return. We parked Marge back in our parking space next to a English registered VW transporter van and settled in for the night. Steady heavy rainfall set in for the night. It hadn't been a great day, and little were we to know it would get a whole lot worse. Our English neighbour turned out to be a serial all night you-tuber. The viewing stopped at 2 am, but resumed at 4 am, and he was still watching when we awoke at 8,30 am. That's inconsideration for you. We would, and should have move, but once the roof is up, and the awning put out, and Marge is settled on her levelling ramps it's a bit of a carry on to move. So we just had to stick our fingers in our ears, almost suffocate ourselves by covering our heads with our pillows, and tough it out. And the man (ianz_trips) was no youngster, probably at least our age, so Ian if you read this PLEASE buy some headphones!

More cabins arriving for the campsite being refurbished next to the Aire.