Fontaine St Jean, Lesporen, Nouvelle-Aquitaine

We've stayed overnight at Chateau in Blaye three times now, always without incident. Sadly this time, we'd chosen the wrong spot. Behind the hedge at the rear of Marge two french couples fuelled by whisky did not shut up until well after eleven. Then at six this morning, they started up again. As it was so warm yesterday evening, John decided we should sleep just under the quilt cover, have the fan running, and the window covers open. Angela was freezing! So not a good night for her. So today we are tired. The heat is draining. We want to be crossing the border into Spain on Sunday, so we pushed on down the coast.

Our planned stop didn't suit us, so we moved on, passing through pretty villages with beautiful churches.

John found us a spot on Park4Night amongst the pine trees in the Landes region, accessible supposedly by a 4x4's. That said, it is us and a sprinter van here tonight. Nice couple, wanted to know if we had a dog. No. We thought they must have a cat. No, a rather large, but quiet dog. Tonight we are hoping for a peaceful night's sleep. We may be woken by the wild boar, as there is evidence of them snuffling around in the area, so we've made sure to bring our rubbish bag inside. Weary from the heat, travelling and a disturbed night, we took a short walk out to the nearby Fontaine St-Jean.

 Tomorrow we head to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. You might remember we were heading here, via the Pyrenees two years ago, when Marge had a wobble. This time, we are confident all will be well. The temperature is going to be well into the nineties tomorrow, so we plant to set off as early as possible, especially as it's Sunday and the supermarkets closed at lunchtime. We need to stock up on French goodies before crossing into Spain. 

Château Marquis de Vauban, Blaye

This morning, time to bid farewell to our neighbours. Even the Frenchman to our right, all belly and Bonnie Tyler, along with other rock ballads he listened to, spoke for the first time. Angela had been awake since five-thirty, just as the sun rose. There's something about the dawn of a new day. Conscious of the bank holiday weekend looming, and knowing we must stop at Aldi to do a shop, we set off just after nine. Angela decided to change our choice of overnight stop so we would be a little nearer to Bordeaux. We'd hoped to do a one night stopover at Bordeaux, but not on a bank holiday. It would be busy and noisy, and the campsite was ten euros a night more expensive than normal. So she decided we'd drive to Blaye, and stay at Chateau du Vauban, where we've stayed twice before. The day hot. Very hot. Marge wasn't phased at all. Did dnt get hot under the collar, just bowled along happily. Some sad, but expected news came through from home as we are lunch at a picnic area. John's auntie Ivy passed away this morning. A sad day. She'll be remembered for living life to the full, always smiling, and her wicked sense of humour.

Arriving at the chateau, despite the site being busy, John bagged Marge a spot under the trees right in front of the chateau. The temperature 94f. Angela waited a while for a drop in temperature before taking a short walk out to the nearby citadel. It was now 91f.

Marge isn't suffering the heat, but we certainly are. Going to strip ourselves and our bedding back to the bare minimum tonight. Goodness knows how hot Spain will be. But we have a lot of water on board just to be sure we stay hydrated. And talking of hydration. The chateau now presents you with a free bottle of very nice wine when you book in. What's not to like, except the Frenchman behind us who loves the sound of his own very loud voice.

La Flotte, Ile de Re (Day2)

Marge has officially arrived on the Ile de Re. As always, she likes to make her presence known. But yesterday evening around nine she caused us great embarrassment. Both, yes both her vehicle alarms went off. The second is very loud, and we couldn't it stop either. It was Angela's fault. She'd locked up Marge before we left her, but hadn't shut her back door properly, so when she opened it we suddenly became the most unpopular people on the campsite. Honestly Marge, if being English wasn't enough. Didn't know you could make such a racket. Fortunately John managed to sort her out. This morning everyone seemed o.k. with us, which was good as we were staying another night. Today is the start of a run of warm weather. Just before lunchtime, with our washing done and mostly dry, thanks to Angela bagging the washing machine early much to the frustration of a woman who deposited her bag of clothes on top of the machine in disgust, we were on our way.

The walk along the coast to Saint Martin de Re is always pleasant, but today we suffered with the heat, not being used to it. Saint Martin was busy, busier than we'd ever seen it.

Whilst we took refreshments outside the bakery a group of German children on an exchange trip spoke with us. They loved Angela's accent. That'll be the twang of south London she's inherited from her mother. 

We walked back to La Flotte bought a souvenir mug and took a last look around the town until we are this way again. So this evening, at eight-thirty it is 24c. Going to be a warm night. Tomorrow we will be moving on mindful there will be much traffic on the roads for the holiday weekend. Always a good idea to keep away from the coast here at these times. But at our age the urgency of missing opportunities is strong, so we must resist the urge to linger at familiar places and continue our travels.

La Flotte, Ile de Re

Yesterday evening, we were tired. But we once again walked out. As the sun started to set, turning the sky a candyfloss pink, we couldn't resist walking along more of the nearby, beautiful dramatic coastline.

This morning Angela was excited, keen for us to be up and away early to cross suspension bridge at Saint Nazaire and start our journey. It was Ile de Re day. Along with Lochbuie on the island of Mull in Scotland, this is her other go to place when she wants some escapism. As Marge is no racing car we knew the journey would take a few hours so as we settled into a steady trundle the sights and views of the french towns and countryside kept us entertained. We stopped for an enjoyable lunch, but didn't linger to long.

As we approached La Rochelle we could see the storks in fields and sat on their nests high up on the electricity pylons. A sight we've now seen many times, and one that always gives us joy.

But for Angela the best sighting of the day was the bridge that stretches from near to La Rochelle to the island of Ile de Re. Look Marge, get a wiggle on. We'd hoped to be able to stay at Camping Bel Air in La Flotte, but at reception we were told they were full.

So we tucked Marge into a small space up at the nearby Aire, then we walked back to the campsite to enquire if we could pay to use the showers, and as to whether there would be a pitch available on the campsite for tomorrow night. It materialised that we could in fact stay tonight and tomorrow. As in England this weekend is a bank holiday in France, so the site will be busy.

So here we are. Marge nestled under the pine trees in the quieter part of the campsite which suits us fine. The weather as always when we visit the island is warm and sunny. A picture blue sky stretching as far as the eye can see.

Take away pizzas eaten down by the marina was the perfect end to the day. So two nights of relaxation, and a chance to wash clothes and walk along the fabulous coastline here. And we intend to enjoy every moment of it.