Return road trip

We left Sablet on Friday and were just congratulating ourselves on being out of the house in record time and away by 7.30 when Adrian for some reason realised he had not packed his passport. Screeching of brakes and handbrake turn. Fortunately we'd only gone 10 minutes. So, back on the road, we were once again on our original schedule. We had many miles to go to Brive, our hotel stop.




It was a good drive though over the Rhône and into lovely Gard with its garrigue and neat stone villages. Then the wilds of Lozère where we crossed Stevenson's donkey route near Florac. A strange place, quite picturesque, with a pretty river in the centre. We do stop and walk round places on our long drives, saving time by having a sort of picnic for lunch. Adrian cooks sausages and eggs, we buy bread, and bundle any unscoffed fruits and cheeses/yoghurts into the bag as extras.

Day 2 of Ye Longe Trekke started with breakfast in Brive. We'd not gone into town last night, preferring to eat in the local village overlooking a river. Our previous evening trip into Brive last year resulted in a major getting lost scenario that we were anxious not to repeat!   It's a fine place and very pukka in the centre. Curiously, the Tourist Office in this landlocked ville is in a former water tower made to look like a lighthouse!

On and on we went, shooting past Limoges, up into the delighful Vienne valley. A langurous, limpid river with pretty bankside villages. Stopped for lunch by the side of it on a lane leading to an empty campsite/leisure area and totally on our own. It was such a tranquil spot with a wooden boat moored to a tree just inviting you to get in and drift away. So, twas a bit of a shock to read a comemorative placque by the bridge that said the place had been bombed by our gallant lads in WW2. We later found out it had been a refugee camp for Belgians taken over by the SS. And one of the first uses of napalm.
Oh dear.

We aimed for the confluence of Vienne and Loire just beyond Chinon and detoured briefly at Richelieu, determined to track down the statue to The Man. Aha - found again (25 years on). It is outside the Château park - of course - not in the town at all. And an even more appropriate metal cut out version inside the grounds, making him even more Grise.
Laval for the night and dinner in a crêperie with a modern twist. Interesting.

Final day. Up the Cotentin peninsula via Avranches and the west coast. Terrific long view of  Mont St Mick from the top and then we meandered along the coast track by the marsh before getting a shift on. There are lots of beach settlements along the way behind the dunes and we picked one at random to seek out lunch. Not a bad one. Fish soup and moules frites right next to the lifeboat station.

And then at last Cherbourg. We had a couple of hours so mooched round the port, looked at the preserved nuclear sub Redoutable, the rescue vessel Abeille Liberté, waved off two ships bound for Ireland and the fast cat to Portsmouth all in the warm sunshine. Most pleasant. I had a strange encounter with two East European chaps who approached me and asked if I spoke English. They then asked me to tell them all about the Abeille Liberté...? (I have some arty farties on flickr of said vessel)

On board the dear old Barfleur it was not busy and we settled in the bar area where the telly was showing BBC1. Not that we could hear - sound is off. And, there was a group of twinners getting very merry...groan. Anyway I watched Countryfile and Attenborough at 90. The time passed and before we knew it there was Old Harry and Sandbanks. Two and a bit hours later we were home.
FIN