Ors to the coast

We set out for Ors before dawn across frosty fields. The sun came up as we travelled and the sky was yellow and pink then bright blue. Not a breath of wind. The landscape was rural and prosperous with villages and towns in the signature fine brickwork of the north. I always think it is so similar in many ways to West Lancashire.

We got to Ors about 8 in the crispy clear and were relieved not to see any sign of coach parties. In fact as we went into the cemetery there were only about four other people at the big cross. Then a magical thing happened - someone started to play the Last Post. A photographer was taking pictures of a woman playing the bugle. 

When she finished we went to Hugh’s grave to lay the wreath and they came up to apologise for intruding.

It turns out she was playing Wilfred Owen’s own bugle. One he had taken from a dead German soldier. She was practising for the Wilfred Owen Association event in the afternoon. Heather Madeira Ni, an American music teacher from the International School in Brussels. Her father was there too. It was as if she'd been playing just for us.

We stayed a while then went to the canal bank where they ha all been killed - all misty and atmospheric. Lovely place.

And then to the Maison Forestière where a transformation has taken place. The house was altered some years ago and is a simple moving interpretation centre for Owen's poems. Projected onto the stark walls in English and French. Branagh reads the English version. There’s now a tourist office in the former army base and interpretation panels in the drive. Marquees obviously expecting a crowd. And as we left they arrived in two charabancs! Phew, we just timed it right. So glad I’d checked out the WOA website in advance.

Just to lower the tone... !

We had breakfast in Le Cateau, birthplace of Matisse. There was obviously some commemoration about to start there too because police were arriving in full dress uniform carrying wreaths. We’d decided to use the excellent motorway network to skip across from the Somme to Le Havre and at Peronne we left the fields piled with sugar beets, the lovely brick houses, the friteries and drove past Amiens and towards the chalk cliffs of Normandie. Where there are, of course, Lighthouses!

 And brown and white cows.

 First lighthouse was Cap d’Antifer overlooking white chalk cliffs and the oil terminal. We ate our supermarket sandwiches there - the fourth non meal since leaving Sablet. 

Then along to Le Havre where we had a drink and a walk by the beach. The gulls were enjoying the swimming pool!

Great place. UNESCO post war architecture, refurbed port area, 

and of course Le Pont de Normandie. The sun was setting in our faces as we headed for Ouistreham making navigating painful but we wanted to get there before dark in order to bag another light! Made it across Pegasus Bridge just in time.

 The port was calm and twinkly, fish market was closing up, people shrimping on the lock. We had a few hours to kill before ferry time and managed to spin out apéritifs and supper at the Brasserie du Phare until 9! Then into the queue and into the ship. This trip has been a veritable Tour de France. So full of variety and interest.
As always there are many pictures on the Google album if anyone wants to look.
A la prochaine !

Before and after the Watershed

Oh dear I am so tired that this might be jibberish. Bear with!
We had a long day planned so were off at 7.30 into the mist of a promising autumn day. The sun rose and stayed with us and eventually cleared the veils of fog. Autumn colours abounding everywhere. This time we did cross the Loire. (Yesterday’s blunder has been pointed out and corrected).

We had breakfast in a little town glorying in the name of La Machine, ex mining town though no signs of pits or spoil heaps. There was a small market but mostly clothes and local cheese. We had our croissants and excellent coffee with separate jug of hot milk! in the Miners’s Arms, a working bar. Very good.

Then in our way through Burgundy where we became aware of signs to a flight of 16 locks on the Nivernais Canal. So we had to detour..down a tiny lane until we found Port Brulé, a hamlet of some half dozen houses that looked closed up for the season.

And discovered this was the watershed between the Seine and the Loire bassins. Hence the 16 locks.

We walked down the Seine side where the locks are. Each one a different colour. It was lovely, atmospheric, quiet.

Could have stayed much longer but we had places to go. One of which being the church where the great Vauban is buried up in the village of Bazoches, near Vézelay.

His château overlooks the tiny village and its
little church where the family vault is. Been there before but Adam hadn’t.

It’s fabulously picturesque country round there -
rolling hills, fields of Charolais, woods, rivers, and...a huge great contingent of Scouts on a ramble. They seemed endless!

After that we pressed on up into Champagne and the empty ploughed cereal fields, now growing carpets of jade green manure cabbage. The day was getting late and we hadn’t stopped for the picnic. Eventually spent ten minutes by the Aube scoffing crisps eggs and sausage before continuing the trek.

Despite the time we really had to stop at Mont Aimé near Vertus south of Epernay a) for the views and b) the monument to the 1815 Russian troops.

Beautiful stripes of colour and wall to wall vines. Outside Epernay we passed a huge and enormous edifice of glass and steel containing goodness knows how many vats of Moët & Chandon. I want Greg Wallace to do an Inside the Factory from there!

In Epernay itself there was a huge tethered balloon above the main square with crowds queueing for the privilege of floating above the town. Still nowhere near our destination, Maubeuge which is only 4 km from the Belgian border so I rerouted us along the A26 from Reims to Laon to save time.












Another 83 k to go after that! But as we entered Picardy, France Musique had a live concert of a young soprano singing WW1 songs and the first was Roses of Picardy, in French and English. How truly apt. It was now getting dark. Tempers were fraying but eventually we got here at 6.30/7. No restaurants and we couldn’t face driving again into the dark on a busy Saturday night. More picnic. Adam bought a microwave readimeal from the dispenser and here we be! Another early start tomorrow for the wreath laying and another long day. Ferry doesn’t sail until 11 pm!! However bird count not bad. Loads of herons, egrets, lapwing, buzzards and, outside Troyes, simply zillions of geese in skeins coming off the bird reserves.

Ardèche and beyond

The sad day arrived. We closed up and left at 7.45 and breakfasted in Donzère. Then it was first across the Rhône for a final time and after another half hour we were crossing the Ardèche and heading up into the mountains towards the Massif Central.

Most of the photos today were guerrilla shots through the windscreen so apologies for odd angles and focus!

It was fairly sunny most of the time in the morning and the scenery quite spectacular with snow on the hills and even along the road edges.

We detoured into a classified village called Arlempdes on the very upper reaches of the Loire where there is a ruined fortified manor that could conceivably be the first chateau on the Loire going downstream!

Then not long afterwards it being midday we swerved into a roadside restaurant that looked promising. Menu 14.90, proper chef, imaginative local dishes. Ah but the speed of service - zzzz. Starters came after half an hour. Long wait then the maincourse after another half hour. People were served and left. No puddings appeared despite waitresses exiting kitchen many times, usually chatting to a distant table. After nearly two hours we upped and left sans dessert. Shame as the food was really nice.

We continued our journey now along roads that showed evidence of having suffered violent winds - tops of trees broken, some lying across a little used logging railway. It was cloudier now and drizzly but still interesting. And finally here we are in St Pourçain with picnic supper in Ibis Budget. The reception desk was a horror show of Halloween decoration. So much so I could scarcely find a way through to the credit card machine.