Rochefort, France

Why do people who own large motorhomes with lots of outside lockers feel they must open each of them around eleven at night before retiring to bed? John says, they're probably looking for a bottle of mineral water they bought and can't remember where they stored it. Well that's O.K. then. Angela's hearing is so sensitive she can hear someone cough in the next road at home if our bedroom window is open. Some noise during the night she can tolerate, but loud music and televisions, loud voices and fart cars she can't. Wildlife, however she can, which is good, as last night the black swans and ducks in the pond behind us decided to 'party all night'. But that was fine, to her it was like a lullaby. Strange woman. This morning the rain arrived as promised. We decided it was probably a good idea to just drive a little further today, so we could enjoy the better weather that was due from Sunday. Quaint crumbling cottages that passed us by as we drove through village after village didn't seem so picturesque in the torrential rain. And the charred heads of the sunflowers awaiting decapitation shortly once the weather settled, did nothing to lighten the surroundings. Our destination was Rochefort. The last time we stayed on the campsite there it was mid September. The weather sunny and warm. Today, not so. The ladies in the campsite office remembered us, or rather Marge, and once we were booked on as a car with a tent, which effectively we are it soon became apparent that the sodden pitches available to us were a no go. So John asked if we could have a motorhome pitch as it was so wet. Result. We now have a great pitch right by the entrance.

At four, as forecast the sun beamed with a huge smile and we were able to walk out, visiting Rochefort town centre, where we've never ventured before and now wonder why.

The large church, crumbling before our eyes stood amongst boutiques and cafe bars. A shop selling slippers and shopping trolleys caught Angela's eye. We have noticed the shopping trolley is very popular here, and once the French reach sixty it is a much have item. Angela wondered if slippers and a new shopping trolley were on some peoples Christmas wish list. She'll let you know when she feels old enough to need one!

The evenings are a little cooler now, but not so cool that we couldn't grill Spanish chicken for our evening meal outside. Tomorrow we are returning to the Ile de Re. Don't tell Marge. The last few days she's been behaving, and we think it would be O.K. for us to divert a little off our return route. We really love the island and the weather is now set to be fine for at least four days so we're going for it. On the campsite we can hear a television coming from an awning attached to a French caravan. You do attract them Marge. Bring on the ducks and Swans Angela says.

Blaye, France

We now have twelve days to reach Cherbourg which is around seven hundred miles away. So from now on we will probably only drive short distances each day, and probably stay more than one day at some of our chosen overnight destinations. 

After a total of fifteen nights, (not consecutive), at the Bordeaux campsite, our extended city break was over. Unless of course Marge dictated otherwise. Nice and steady today Marge, we're only travelling an hour down the road.

Next stop Blaye right on the Gironde estuary. The town is familiar to us, and our overnight stop was somewhere we've stayed before and always wanted to return to.

The Chateau de Marquis de Vauban, where two years ago it was free to stay, and the electrical hook up was also free. And if you wished you could purchase wine produced from vines on the estate from the onsite shop. Now there is a charge of ten euros per night. Which is fine by us. The Aire de camping car opposite is just over ten euros and you get to park close to another van right by the noisy sports centre. What we can't understand is why so many people choose the Aire rather than the chateau right opposite, where you can park under the redwood trees or amongst the vines. Blaye is a UNESCO world heritage sight.

The medieval citadel which sits above a town that has seen better days, is interesting, and the views from the top across the estuary beautiful. We love this area, and that's great because we certainly seemed to have spent quite a lot of time milling about here recently. Haven't we Marge? 

Yelloh! Village Camping Bordeaux Lac (Yet again! Day 2)

You know those days when the forecasters predict the weather wrongly? Well today wasn't one of those days. Or perhaps it was, as we didn't hear one rumble of thunder. But we certainly saw a lot of rain fall and noticed a drop in temperature. We couldn't believe a few days ago we'd been basking in 30c, wearing shorts and T-shirts and walking on beaches. Today 16c and more than a little moist. Even the ducks seemed pissed off with the unrelenting rainfall.

After checking the forecast last night we decided it would be best to stay put on the Bordeaux campsite. There is a seating area in the large reception, and also outside on the covered veranda. So this morning we decamped to the reception area, purchased a couple of coffees and stayed put until well after one.

The improving picture we were promised did not materialise, but by three the rain was light and we broke out, taking a walk along the cycle path around the lake.

 Under the road bridge a young trumpeter practised his scales. We'd seen him there when we first arrived back in September. We guessed the concrete structure made for great acoustics.

As we ambled around under the tall slim pine trees, reaching towards sunlight, they'd be hard pressed to find today, we were surprised at just how many different species of mushroom were growing amongst the pine needles. Sadly for John, none were edible. The rain not wanting us to enjoy ourselves too much soon returned, and we hurried back, stopping at a snail house for a photo opportunity.

 Perhaps worthy of consideration for a little pied-a`-terre. Tomorrow we are leaving Bordeaux, and hopefully will not be returning until we visit France another time. Never say never of course, Marge seems to control our lives now.