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.

Saint-Nazaire, Loire Atlantique

Angela knew it would be raining this morning, so she rose early to prepare Marge for breakfast. Her living space is a little compact. So organisation is key, especially when it comes to cooking inside. Our English neighbours hunkered down in their vans. Perhaps they didn't have far to travel today. The French van owners watched us, walked up and down behind us, and realizing we were watching them, decided to 'bonjour' us. Stare at Marge as much as you like. She's used to it. To be fair Angela stared a little as well. Honestly, don't believe chic is associated with the elderly French. Is a well worn coat, one we would once have called an anorak, joggers with a white stripe down the outside of the leg, and formal black lace up shoes a good look?  Well here, it's definitely a look! Today we drove Marge steadily, which means it takes us a while to arrive at our destination.

A late lunch stop at the Intermarche supermarket in Redon, an ideal place to take refreshment at the cafe bar before picking up a few items from the store. The problem with French supermarkets is they are sometimes they are fascinating, so they become a source of entertainment. Needless to say, by the time we'd lunched, we'd been there quite a while. Keen to be on the Atlantic coast by late afternoon we trundled on. Go Marge, go! The aire at Saint-Nazaire is just above the sea. We stayed here a few years ago in Marge II. Then the vans were allowed in the main, flat car park. Now, an adjacent piece of sloping land is all ours! Whoopee doo. Might be a pain for the larger vans, but our Marge loves a bit of rough, so she's parked in one of the more rugged spots in the aire.

Keen to stretch our legs after the travelling of the last few days we prepared to take a long walk along the beach. Angela using the facilities inside Marge could her John outside conversing with a French lady. Between her French, and his Franglais, she didn't have a clue what they were talking about. As she stepped out of Marge the women began telling Angela something about the monsieur's. Seeing Angela was a little baffled she proceeded to assume a squatting position multiple times whilst repeatedly saying monsieur's. After realizing we were probably a lost cause, she departed with a cheery wave. Angela decided she was either saying, the men squat in the bushes, or to John, don't sqat in the bushes. No fear of that, we have the trusty boxio toilet. Besides us, there are a Dutch couple here, everyone else is French. Say no more!

Villedieu-Les-Poeles-Rouffigny

The noise last night from the port didn't bother us. Having lived in Poole for nearly five years we were used to the sounds of this working port. Up just after the lark, we joined the check in queue for the ferry.

Marge sailed through security without attracting the attention of the staff. Well done Marge, not like you. Today is the official start of Marge's meandering, mesmerizing, marvellous, memorable road trip to Morocco. Did you hear that Marge? And by memorable we mean nice memories! With access to YouTube, the sailing across seemed to pass quickly. We are following a couple who are driving around the world over four years in their TD5 Land Rover Defender. Known on YouTube as the 'Jammy Gits' Mitch and Martha keep us entertained and inspired every week when we catch up on their travels. Normally upon arriving in France we tend to do a supermarket shop, and stop overnight some where not too far from down the coast.

This time though, albeit tired, we were keen to get some miles under our belt so pressed on down the Contentin peninsula to the pretty little medieval town of  Villedieu-Les-Poeles- Rouffigny. Known as the city of copper because of its many talented copper artisans.

Marge secured the last space on the aire.

Our neighbours are thankfully both English, as Angela had forgotten the corkscrew. Asking the English to borrow theirs saved the humiliation of being laughed out of town by the French. Honestly. Who forgets to bring a corkscrew to France!