Places

30
Jan
2020

Pride comes before …

My first trip away, since 3 days in beautiful North Wales in October, is the 6-mth awaited week’s skiing in La Thuile in Italy’s Aosta valley, just through the Mont Blanc tunnel past Courmayeur.

Day one skiing was my first time on skis for about 7 years. With some trepidation, but encouraged by the homies whose annual trip I’ve tagged along with, I felt that at the end of the day, having survived the final run down to have a Bombardino at the end of a …. RED, my mental and physical exhaustion had been truly vanquished.
Day two, and the plan took us over to the adjoining La Rosiere area in France, beautiful blue skies and sunshine, nice pistes, altho’ more learner snowboarders for my fear levels and liking on my blues than in Italy.
I made it in one piece to the coffee stop, but about to set off again, the day took a turning for the worse with the realisation that my skies and poles were nowhere to be found – some numpty (or worse) had obviously taken them. With 4 of us, it didn’t take long to check every other set of skis/poles, looking for a green pair with my name on a sticker which my friends were adamant were mine, but which my previously fantastic autopilot now failing in middle age had failed to clock!!, were just not there. So there we were high up the mountain over the border (and in the valleys at the other side of the M Blanc tunnel) in France and wtf – adequately conveys the sentiments – now?
Discussed various options, with the best one being that I would have to walk up hill and down dale for several miles along ski pistes in my ski boots down to la Rosiere, admittedly using chair lifts wherever possible, to hire another pair of skis to get me back, which my extremely competent ski buddies would the next day have to ski over with again for their return.
I called my ski hire place to ask them whether there was a ‘protocol’ for such a happening, which there wasn’t, or they didn’t know what goes on in France, but they would call me back. 10 minutes later in the return call, an extremely sheepish smile appeared on my face to the outbreak of hilarious laughter from my ski team, upon being told that it was I the numpty or worse, because in the morning, the bar where we had the Bombardino on my triumphant first day, opened to find a pair of skies and poles still outside having been left there since the day before, with my name on them. In my exhausted, but pride comes before a fall stupor, I had managed to fit my boots into the skis from another unfortunate who had hired these from a rental shop in Courmayeur, and absconded in smug satisfaction at having conquered the day intact.
Fortunately for that unfortunate, the bar was more or less back at La Thuile, so they would only have had to walk downhill for 5 mins in their ski boots before presumably reaching their mode of transport to get them back to Courmayeur.
I’m not entirely sure how my ski rental was able to inform me that I should now look for a pair of skis with a label from Courmayeur, Mont Blanc 4810, because they would be the ones I had been using all morning.Sure enough, in a couple of minutes flat, it was ascertained that the skis and poles placed solitarily which I had indeed thought were surely where I had left mine, did have the Courmayeur Mont Blanc sticker, so the confusion that I had felt when thinking my skis were red, but my companions telling me they were green was also explained.
As if this was not enough, I repeated the same again leaving the next bar stop, even more exhausted, when I picked up my friend’s skis instead of my ‘borrowed’ red ones. At least with these, I would have failed to get my boots into the bindings, and have spent a fair bit of faff, trying to understand why!
On my return to my ski rental, they wanted me to walk the 5 minutes (took at least 20) back up the red run in my boots to go and pick up my very ownest skis from Le Petit Skieur. For those who know the exhausted weariness of the learner or fearful skier at the end of a day’s sking, the rich with meaning answer NO to the question from my friends “Did you not feel the difference when you put on those other skis???” would be easily understood.
As it happens, Day 3 was a whiteout, so a 24-hr stop-gap ski rental from La Rosiere would not have been carryable over the tops back to la belle france anyway.
This is a beautiful place, even in the 5 miles walk through thick snowfall of day 3. Really enjoying the company, experience, exercise and trauma.😀

Posted by admin in Italy, Places
04
Oct
2019

Harrogate welcomes the world – UCI Cycling World Championship

Given that I had intended being away when this event came to town, and based back in Longridge, Lancashire again, I had decided not to put my brain to the task of understanding the week’s schedule and how best to navigate the major road closures, as well as where to sofa-surf or driveway camp so that I could be part of it all.

Serendipity stepped in again though to enable me nevertheless to be a very happy spectator caught up in a world sporting event taking place in my home town and particularly as where my brother, and friends the next day, chose to stand for the women’s and men’s elite events respectively, was in the vicinity of what had become a european motorhome unofficial aire.

With delight, particularly as the first day delivered bright sunshine and blue sky after 24 hours of pouring rain, driving for many of those hours from a day-old stay despite weather forecast in the Lake District to the van manufacturer to try (in vain) to get a leak which appeared for the first time in Monte2 corrected, I realised that though I was not across the channel as part of a continental motorhoming tribe, it had actually come unexpectedly to me! (A very long sentence I know!) The cycling did of course figure 🙂

  • Men’s Elite ultimately 3rd, 2nd, & winner

What a fantastic event to in the end be led by circumstances and reacting decisions, and despite the appalling rain on the Sunday, I was so glad to have been there.

Partying between laps 🙂
Posted by admin in Cities-Towns, Events, Places, The Good
16
Sep
2019

Unplanned early return & tears for brexit

Just 2 weeks after I wrote the post on the ferry heading for Calais, I am writing again on the ferry in the other direction, heading home early due to family illness.

In Switzerland I was hedging my onward options due to the situation – not wanting to travel further east and south – so I took the opportunity in the decision time to join my sister and her husband on a campsite at Le Lavandou on the French Mediterranean coast, where I have stayed twice before. I was able to be an extra person and vehicle on their double-sized expensive pitch – so cheap for being on a 5-star campsite in that location! – and enjoyed 3 lovely days of more Summer.

This area and the medieval town of Bormes Les Mimosas is beautiful.

The past 3 weeks hold the record for the miles/kilometres driven, and having made the decision that I should return to the UK, I have certainly covered territory in 2 days: 9 hours driving from Le Lavandou to Beaune in Burgundy, mid-way up France, and a further 7 hour to the ferry, with cruise control all the way and Monte2 fantastic. More than 300 miles from Dover up to Lancashire.

So it’s a goodbye again as I sit at the rear of the ship and look southwards at Calais receding into the late afternoon, early Autumn sunlight. I wanted to record the really unexpected wave of sadness which swept over me earlier as the town came into view from the motorway heading to the French coast, the realisation hitting that this would probably be the last time for me before the UK leaves the EU.

I am happy to admit to the depth of this feeling – and to explain it as being like a grief for the ending of my own personal relationship with the EU – and France in particular over the years – and all its potential options that I have taken for granted as being part of my life since I started studying French and German at university in the late 70s. All this emotion found its echo coincidentally and most unexpectedly in those moments by the randomly-ordered Stevie Wonder tracks I was listening to. I did choose to ‘go with’ all the emotions and associated reflection.

My hope is that Brexit will sooner or later become in reality only a bad dream, as I thought it was when I woke up the morning after the referendum 3 years ago. I am a citizen of the UK, but will always feel that my valued citizenship of the wider European grouping known as the EU has been taken away from me on spurious grounds and on balance for no real benefit in the complex, interdependent world of now. I have much sympathy for those EU nationals who’ve been resident in countries other than their own for many years, who now feel everything’s up in the air, beyond their control, and ‘no longer wanted’,

Came across this building – see the caption above the door – in a little Swiss hamlet near the Italian border.

Posted by admin in France, Musings, Places
08
Sep
2019

“Take as a gift whatever the day brings forth” Horace

I am currently in my second swiss campsite following my friend in her campervan, where the above quote is pinned up. Yesterday I arrived at the first campsite at Davos Rinerhof at 1500m after 3 hours of driving through pouring rain, following a night of pouring rain, and feeling the same ridiculous ‘height fear’ as I followed the (very good swiss) roads, higher and higher. Ruminating on the whole ‘why am I not driving to the sunshine’ self-imposed pressure and catastrophising :)!!, by the time I arrived, I had already done enough speaking sternly to myself to change my mindset to precisely the sentiments I read, as I drank my friend-provided welcome cup of tea! Later on the rain stopped and we caught a bus and walked back along the valley through Davos, where I had stayed in Hotel Bunda with some of the family for our very first skiing holiday way back when. I also enjoyed a week’s skiing a second time in this place, when I went with another family several years later. Good times.

Today I awoke to the predicted snow, but put my trust in the forecast that southern Switzerland near Lugano would reach the heady heights of 20 deg. Gritted ones teeth to follow the satnav slightly higher before descending to get on the main road which then climbed to the San Bernadino tunnel.

I am genuinely in awe of the swiss road system, (railways also), and the same in France, as they forge their way in tunnels through around and up mountains. I don’t think we have anything remotely similar in the UK. Having popped out of the other end of the San Bernadino tunnel from a world of falling snow and 1.5deg into light, distant blue sky and sunshine, the amazing road descent in the most beautiful setting did deliver a new climate of the hoped-for 20 degrees.

Still in Switzerland just, we are now on Camping Tresiana between Lakes Lugano and Maggiore. Having a glass of wine to celebrate my success – glad I’ve not wasted £500 – having just received my diploma certificate, with my old, now ‘midult’ friend Carole, a mere 43 years after we went on our first youth-hostelling holiday together. We don’t look a day older!

My plan as of a few days ago which is still the intention, is to drive to northern Croatia this week and hopefully meet up with some other motorhoming friends, but there is potentially a spanner in the works, which may cause this to change.

Posted by admin in Cities-Towns, Places, Switzerland
08
Sep
2019

Brief Stays in Ghent & Germany

Whilst not perhaps able to fully endorse the extent of Lonely Planet’s effusive description of Ghent, I can confirm that it is well worth a visit. I thought it was a lovely town, and really accessible with fantastic free motorhome parking including overnight which I took advantage of, walking distance from the centre.

All ‘worked’ re my next 2-night stop at the Dusseldorf Caravon Salon. My main achievement here was to visit the show/exhibition extensively and twice and not buy a single thing. I stayed on the 800-place ‘caravan-center’ whose convenience was not outweighed for me by being under the flight path just by the airport, with business take-offs every minute or so it seemed, making their presence felt from 6am. Quiet though from 23:00 hours.

The 2nd day I made myself get the bike off the rack and cycle along the Rhein to Dusseldorf. Very easy – maybe 6 km away on the flat (for obvious reasons!) the sun was shining, and it was all well worth the effort. Really liked Dusseldorf Altstadt – ie historic centre – and the main thoroughfares. The Rhein is still used for loads of cargo boats transporting vehicles, lorries and all manner of goods.

From there, a 2 hour drive to a most fantastic welcome and 2 nights spent in Wissenbach benefitting from the most gracious hospitality, following the same that I was blessed with in London, my requested German gastronomy of Bienenstich and Curry Wurst, and visiting the Grun Villa museum in Dillenburg which included representations from all the industry/manufacturing there is in this area, including the first ‘airline kitchens’, which has had a historic and worldwide reach.

An abiding impression as I drove the 300 miles south to Lake Constance (Bodensee) for the last overnight in Germany was of the miles and miles of forest/woods still retained. My route around the east side of Bodensee took me through miles of fruit orchards and also vineyards.

Posted by admin in Belgium, Cities-Towns, Germany, Places
01
Sep
2019

Summer in the UK, & into Autumn

It’s 1 September, blue sky and sun shining on a flat sea, the coast of France once again in sight and I’m starting this post from the ferry taking me as planned across the channel to Calais, from where I will hot foot it into Germany. After an overnight in Ghent, Belgium, I am first of all going to the Dusseldorf Caravan/Motorhome show – apparently much bigger than the Birmingham NEC one – because yes, I am still a nerd for ever more tiny space and vehicle homes design, and this is THE mecca for all things motorhoming. Will see.

It’s been a good interlude between travels. One of the things I’ve been able to do in the time back in the UK is obviously spend time with family and visit some old friends, many of whom I haven’t seen for years. I’m going to continue this with a visit after Dusseldorf to a former au-pair who was with us 20 years ago but now with her own family in Germany,

I split my time in July/August very comfortably between my Mum & partner’s house in Lancashire and extended family back in Harrogate. Despite much coming and going with bags containing equipment to cover any type of activity I might want to do in these various locations, my memory and post-it notes failed only once (at least as far as I’m aware having at least made it through border checks etc) resulting in me driving in the end many unnecessary miles back from whence I’d only just travelled, to retrieve a bag thought left behind, but which was, in the end, at my new destination already. Abit of a tortuous description, but it sort of reflects the idiocy of that event! Now that I’m back living out of the van again for a few weeks, so only one respository of stuff, fingers crossed, all necessary items will remain with me.

Having decided that I still had motivation for business analysis work when the career break ends, I took a professional diploma a couple of weeks ago, so it was a good use of time to be able to do revision in a very relaxed fashion. Got absolutely fed up with it all though so the exam date came around at just the right time. Hopefully I’ll have passed it to add to my CV/LinkedIn if I come to apply for new jobs. At the mo, am feeling that just when British employees are going to become a hassle to employ, I would like to see whether I can get a contract in some European city, doing this only some 30 years after I had the original intention. Evolution of such a possibility to be continued when this journey finishes, which will probably be towards end Oct, when I will take a ferry circumnavigating the globe, or put the van on an earth-orbit-hopping spaceship so as to arrive at Scotland via the Arctic Circle or alternatively, black hole; either will be preferable despite my travel sickness and increasing aversion to flying, to getting caught in the post-no deal Brexit queues.

Having decided that I did not have motivation to do house hunting over the Summer so as not to risk distracting myself from setting off again, and closing down any other options, a house which ticks all the boxes unexpectedly presented itself in Harrogate just a couple of weeks ago, so I promptly put an offer in which was accepted, so that’s now all going ahead 🙂 Plus ca change!

The last objective of the Summer was to achieve the longed-for bop, and last night’s ‘Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet’ event in south London, which I lingered around in the UK for, delivered. I stayed at the Crystal Palace caravan site some 3 miles uphill from the pub venue in Bellingdon, resisted using Uber for the first time after having checked the prices, and after 3 hours shuffling on the dancefloor with other like-minded 70/80s funk disco aficionados, little rucksack on back, and feet this time in non-birkenstock shoes, managed the cycle ride back by midnight.

I’m finishing this post now in Ghent on a free car park in a really pleasant location along with about 10 other vans – Monte2 feels welcome and at home – about to watch some British tv courtesy of getting the Amazon firestick to work. Autumn touring is already making its difference felt with time being one-hour later over here, so the night draws in even earlier. More hiding then in the van of an evening, playing guitar, typing away, reading, watching some tv.

Tomorrow morning I will seek to be “wooed by one of Europe’s greatest underappreciated all-round discoveries” ?? 🙂 – surely Lonely Planet’s over-egged its billing for the town.

Then, Dusseldorf & Wissenbach here I come, after which head for Croatia. Tschuss.

Posted by admin in Belgium, Musings, Places