Thursday: Truffy our motorhome was all prepped and ready to hit the road. We pointed him south to the coast and the Côte d’Azur, which was looking especially glitzy as it happened to be hosting once again this week the Cannes Film Festival.
A stop en-route at an Asian grocery store recommended by our local hosts enabled a massive stock up on all the ingredients Catherine likes to use in her cooking, and we know from previous experience here they are not easy to source in the French and Italian supermarkets. We miss our spicy dishes here when eating out so create our own.
We decided on a whim to stay at a campsite we spotted in the first town we reached, Mandelieu-la-Napoule. It looked very scenic on a small canal, so we were shortly tucking into the fresh produce we had picked up on the way down. Ah the joy of France to get such quality veg everywhere you shop.
The e-bikes were quickly unloaded and we set off without much of a plan as to where we were going to explore. We found ourselves wandering along the coast towards Cannes, and realised we could actually ride all the way in.
So we decided to check out what was happening around the Film Festival. It was heaving of course, with all the beautiful people parading around their floating gin palaces.
It was really quite entertaining for us to hear so many languages and accents, see people so dressed up. Something we miss in Australia. And we even got to see the (empty) famous red carpet ready for the premier of the Elton John story, Rocketman (see news story and resultant images here). Amusing to see some hopeful young ladies all dressed up in skimpy outfits with signs saying “ticket wanted”. I wonder how their evening will go!
Would have hated to be driving though the traffic chaos, but our e-bikes make it so easy to really cover some ground and weave in and out. We are so pleased we lashed out for these little beauties. Ideal for this type of outing.
It was a great day out, capped off by a veggie Pad Thai courtesy of Mrs A. An episode of Peaky Blinders and the day was ended perfectly.
We have now ten days to wander into Italy and down to Florence, where Catherine will then fly home for a quick hospital visit leaving me to take care of Truffy. Italy here we come!
Location: Bagnols-en-Forêt, Saint-Paul de Vence, Fayence & Tourettes, France
Tuesday: Curious about the joys of riding an e-bike, we took our friends out for a cycle along some of the forest paths where we were staying…we can safely say they approve!
It was just a short ride in the morning before we headed back to wind our way by car across the mountain villages, past Fayaence, Tourettes and Grasse across to the small walled town of Saint-Paul de Vence.
Saint-Paul de Vence is a perched village located about 12km north east of Nice. It was originally settled in about 400 bcd and then was renamed in the year 120 when the Romans called it Castrum Sancti Pauli (interpreted as St Paul’s Fortress). In the late 1800s and 1900s the village was discovered by impressionist artists such as Picasso, Matisse and Marc Chagall (who is buried in the little cemetery there). The poor artists enjoyed the clean light and spectacular views – to the coast in one direction and the snow capped Alps in the other.
The Colombe d’Or restaurant and inn started life in the village in the 1920s and had a great reputation for good food and dancing on its terraces. It became a popular place amongst the artists, who often exchanged a painting or two in return for food or accomodation.
Today the whole village remains full of artists and galleries selling everything from today’s modern art to older Chagall and Picasso paintings and prints.
Lunch was our first port of call, having forgone breakfast for a ride. We found a little terraced cafe with a fabulous view. It was a little tourist trap really with overpriced average food and wine from a sack, but the views made up for it!
We continued our exploration of the village, visiting Marc Chagall’s grave, covered in stones in the Jewish tradition and admired the views down to Nice and across the mountains. We wandered around the little lanes, admiring paintings with high price tags (€65,000 for an original Picasso artist’s print thank you very much – that’s around AU$106,000 /£57,000 /US$73,000 for our international readers).
An Apéro Spritz on the terrace concluded our afternoon before returning back to Colin’s feast of fish and prawn gumbo – delicious!
Wednesday: Our final day with our friends in France – it was time to give Colin and Di back their peace, serenity and healthy livers and Chris, Karen, Jenny and David were to be off back to Australia. The weather greeted us with appropriate sadness with a fine rain falling, and the morning was spent sharing stories, photos and doing the final packing and washing.
Di then took us up to the little village of Fayence, which had overlooked us on our Monday night farm meal. Mark and I visited here with Diane three years ago – then it had been sundress weather and the streets were bustling with the Saturday market. This time, it was jacket weather and other than the odd cat, the streets were largely abandoned.
We walked across to the next village of Tourettes, enjoying the unique doorways and artworks on the walls, and admiring the views down across the valley towards the coast.
The evening saw us get suited and booted for our final meal together.
Dinner was held at Moulin de la Camandoule an old olive mill with a history that dates back to Roman times.
It was a delicious meal and a fitting end to our time together in Provence. Many thanks to Di and Colin for putting us up for the past few days and being such fabulous hosts.
Location: Bagnols-en-Forêt, Provence-Alps-Côte, France
Our wonderful hosts have lived within the community of Bagnols-en-Forêt for about four years now. It’s tucked up on the hinterland behind the sparkling Mediterranean, on land which traditionally has been used to grow olives and grapes, but these days is more profitable being subdivided to house terracotta tiled villas with swimming pools.
Sunday: We joined them for a walk around the neighbourhood with Genie, their little poodle-cross rescue dog, and got a good feel for the area. Many of the houses are on half acre plots with lovely gardens. Just 100 metres from the back of Diane and Colin’s property the forest stretches on for miles with views out to the foothills of the Alps.
Later, we drove on down to the village for a lazy Sunday lunch, enjoying salads and a glass or two of local Rosé.
Colin and I awaiting our lunch
Towards the end of the afternoon a rental car arrived bringing Jenny, David, Chris and Karen to the house, here to enjoy their final four days in Europe before flying back to Australia. Colin cooked us all up a delicious feast and we had a good catch up.
Monday: We awoke to a beautiful morning and so Mr A and I decided to jump on our bikes and see a little more of the area. We rode up into the area behind Colin and Di’s house and explored some of the tracks leading into the forest. It’s great fun riding our little e-bikes and we were grateful for them on the steep uphills back out of the valley.
The area is stunning, and as we rode through the area full of wildflowers we marvelled at how parklike the area was. We reached a clearing along the road and with views that took our breath away – looking south towards the Mediterranean, Saint-Raphael gleaming in the distance, and north up into the beginning of an alpine environment.
We clocked up 20km and returned to get ready to head out with the group. We piled into two cars and headed south towards the coast. Our first stop was the little town of Fréjus.
The town is on the site of an ancient naval base founded by Julius Caesar in about 50 bce and known originally as Forum Julii. Its Roman ruins include a late 1st-century amphitheatre, an aqueduct, and ancient fortifications.
As we arrived in town we saw a parade starting – it turned out it was the saint day for saint François de Paule, the Italian monk who arrived on the day the plague ended in the town – and henceforth was praised for being the town’s saviour.
We ambled through the little streets, checking out the architecture, arriving at the main square and the cathedral.
The Cathedral of Notre-Dame et Saint-Étienne (13th century) has a 5th-century baptistery, gradually being excavated. 
After lunch in the square we drove a short way along the coast to Saint-Raphaël. A €4 ferris wheel ride gave us the perfect opportunity to enjoy views along the coast and get our bearings in this resort town.
We explored the streets before ice creams and returning back for the evening. Di and Colin had booked us a unique experience, a private dinner prepared and served at a local farmhouse, La ferme Constantin in nearby Fayance.
It was a fabulous rustic setting, as we enjoyed wine and appetisers outside overlooking the fields, before heading in for food as the sun set.
Our private dining room
It was a great experience, one we will never forget.
Location: Beaune, Mirmande and Bagnols-en-Forêt, France
We had three days to travel just under a 1,000km through the centre of France in order to reach our next get together with friends in Provence. That meant the freeways – expensive, boring and fast would be my summary. We spent around €100 on tolls, but arrived early enough at our stopovers to at least see something of the country.
Thursday: The first night we returned to the town of Beaune, the wine capital of Burgandy. We had been here a few years ago and loved it, staying at a great free parking spot within walking distance of the town centre.
It rained on and off but that didn’t dampen our enthusiasm for ogling the amazing selection of food and wine shops that cram into the tiny centre. A very classy place is Beaune. We escaped with our wallets intact, only giving way to our desires with a round of washed rind sheep’s cheese, a type of cheese Catherine can tolerate small amounts of with her dairy intolerance.
Friday: We were up and off in the morning and hitting the freeways again. We managed to get to Mirmande, our stop over, early enough to have a good explore on the bikes.
Around 4km from our delightful little campsite (La Poche camping) was a village a friend had recommended as it is in the category of “one of the most beautiful in France” – along with hundreds of others I think, as there seems so many. In fact I looked it up, there’s 156 that an association formed in the early 80’s recognises as “Les Plus Beaux Villages de France“. There’s some criteria they need to meet and a branding they can use. All very noble.
Our trusty little e-bikes powered us up right to the 12th century church at the top of the village, with outstanding in views right down to the Rhone river.
After snapping away for a while I dragged Mrs A away and we headed down to the Rhône through some lovely countryside.
The climb back up to our camp was 4km straight up – thankyou Mr Bosch we love your pedal assist technology!
Saturday: The final day of the drive into Provence was completed without incident. There was no tailgating, or middle lane hogs, drivers are almost all respectful to others on the road. A pleasure to experience, coming from Australia and New Zealand. So we finally reached our destination at our friends’ place just outside a small village called Bagnols-en-Forêt in the hills behind Cannes and St Tropez. And what a place it is! They have created this private oasis of a garden, and a house of eclectic, exquisite taste. Colin is an awesome master of his domain, the kitchen, and dinner a sumptuous affair. The rest of the mob arrive tomorrow, so we enjoy the time to ourselves catching up with these guys.
It’s fascinating to get their perspective on French life, as Australians who moved out here 8 years ago. I think the best phrase I heard them use was that the French life in a “bubble”, where the world in some ways doesn’t seem to touch them too deeply. Traditions are maintained, micro-agriculture common, family life still central to their lives it seems. The finer and often simpler moments in life are still treasured. A long lunch with friends (where mobiles seems less prevalent than at home), a walk through the woods, choosing the weekly shop undertaken with such care at the local market. These are the things we observe and love about France.
Tuesday was the day Mr A and I had planned for the household, taking us to the small town of Chateaux-Thierry, about a 25 minute drive from our gîte. We parked up outside the town hall, a grand building in the centre of town, and climbed up the stairway to the castle above.
A magnificent view awaited us at the top of many stone steps, looking out over the town to the Marne River and south to the farmland beyond.
The castle has a varied history dating back to Roman times, starting with a wooden fortification and gradually being added to and amended by subsequent inhabitants. There is evidence of the biggest castle kitchen in Europe within this shell, once employing in excess of a hundred workers in meal preparation.
We all had an explore around the town before meeting for a delicious plat du jour served at L’adresse Rive Droit, a superb recommendation from our next destination.
After lunch we drove a short distance to Champagne Pannier, a champagne cooperative sourcing grapes from 400 small producers across the region. Our guide, Elina, took us into their caves, a combination of natural and man-made caverns originally discovered in the middle-ages.
We learnt a lot more about the making and bottling of champagne, giving us an appreciation of why champagne is so expensive. We finished off with a tasting of two champagnes, one a 2014 vintage. Delicious.
Champagne and Ratafia Champenois (made from the skins of grapes pressed for champagne) were purchased.
After this we returned to the castle in the hope of witnessing a falconry show – sadly after climbing up to the entrance we were advised they did not do it on a Tuesday any longer (despite the sign saying they did), and so we did a little shopping for the evening’s dinner and moved on.
Our final destination for the day was the American War Memorial, a magnificent monument overlooking the town in recognition of the relationship between the American and French armed forces during World War II. It was quite sobering after a jovial day, and reminded us how fortunate we are to live in peaceful times and to be able to do what we are doing.
We returned home to consume our goodies of the day – delicious food from the bakery, deli and greengrocers, accompanied by some fine French white and red wines.
Wednesday morning began with rain, which continued on as we piled into the minibus and Chris drove us all for an hour to the nearby town of Reims.
Our plan had been to split into two groups, five members heading to a car museum, and the rest of us heading to a large market in the city centre. Mr A and I were in the market crowd. On arriving at the market we found it was closed. What we hadn’t realised is that today is a national holiday in recognition of V-E Day, the day in 1945 the Germans surrendered in Reims following World War II. The wet weather didn’t discourage several people from attending a ceremony close by, and we immediately forgave them for closing the market.
I decided to break from the rest of the group and go to see the cathedral. Mr A and I leave this region tomorrow, so we wouldn’t have a chance otherwise.
The city of Reims was very quiet, with most of the shops closed and the rain keeping people at home. It has some fabulous classic French architecture and the cathedral itself is hard to miss as you wind your way through town.
Strangely it was great to see the Cathedral Notre-Dame de Reims in wet weather, as the water poured from the roof and out through the mouths of gothic wolves.
The more than 800 year old cathedral has been listed by UNESCO since 1991, and is has been the location of the coronation of many of France’s kings. It’s quite incredible to stand inside and imagine centuries of kings and courtiers looking at the same or very similar view.
It was built between 1211 and 1516 and during its time has been damaged by revolutions, attacked by peasants, and bombed during World War I. But the cathedral within told of a progressive view, with beautiful stained glass windows telling stories from the old and New Testament as well as more recent additions which are there for the pure art of colour and form. There is a fabulous window dedicated to the local peasants, recognising their part in the congregation and work in the champagne industry.
I returned to meet the others, who were sipping coffee in a local bistro, and together we went up to the local war memorial to watch the ceremony, observe a minute’s silence and spend a moment or two in recognition of the significance of the day.
We returned to the house for a fine three course dinner prepared by Penny and Steve, starting at 3pm and concluding around 8pm. Much fun, very delicious and a fine end to our visit with our friends in this area.
Sunday: We had been invited to join friends who had hired a gite near the hamlet of Priez on the western edge of Champagne country.
Our first evening together was of course a lively affair…we thought we had catered sufficiently for the group of 10 with a dozen bottles of wine, beer, pastis, breads and cheeses. However, the night drew to a close with not much left on the table and a few sore heads in the morning!
Monday: We left early for our first day learning about champagne with two tours that couldn’t have been more dissimilar. The first was to a relatively small, family run producer called Champagne Jacquinot.
What a great way to learn about the complicated business of growing, harvesting, cellaring, fermenting, and finally bottling this product. For many of this the big takeaway was the impact that climate change is having on all the growers in the region. More variation, less predictability in weather patterns and hotter temperatures all serve to narrow the window for growing and harvesting as one example.
The tour was so eloquently given by the grandson of the man who established the business. He took us down into the cellars, dug in 1873 out of the chalk layer that enables the champagne region here to produce the amazing vintages that it does. It was so good to see a small business doing so well. Demand is strong and the production tightly controlled to ensure a sustainable future, even with the climatic impacts they face.
After a typically French lunch, except for how quickly we had to get through the three delicious courses, we were off to the next tasting at the by contrast very expansive and “Corporate” house of Mercier. You are likely to recognise their logo, they distribute all over the world.
It was a total contrast to the last place with an almost Disneyland like approach to showing us through their extensive cellars…on an underground train!
When it came to the tasting I wasn’t sure to what extent my lack of excitement about the flavours was contextual or “real”. What I mean by that is I think tasting wine is so influenced in my case by what I am thinking and feeling at the time, who I am with, my engagement with whoever is presenting the wine and so on. It felt like quite a bland presentation to be honest, by people who seemed to have little passion for their product. And so the champagne tasted the same…how much of that was in my head or in the bottle?
It’s a fascinating industry, clearly Epernay is doing very well. The place oozed money and presented a really smart brand for the this oh so French business. Grateful to be able to experience it with old friends and making new ones.
Location: Newhaven Ferry Port, Dieppe, Grandvilliers, Saint- Quentin, Longpont, France
Thursday: The day had finally arrived to board our ferry across to France. We originally booked our tickets while visiting my dad in New Zealand, and it seemed so far away. We had sat there wondering what would have happened to us in the intervening five months…an awful lot as it turned out!
We had not had the best night’s sleep. While sleeping at the port seemed like a good idea (and we were not the only motorhome to do so), the night was punctuated by the arrival of multiple heavy goods vehicles running their engines and freight trains moving to and from the port.
Nevertheless, a crisp clear morning greeted us, blue skies and light winds seeing us off from England.
The three hour journey went without incidence, and we pulled off the boat in Dieppe reminding ourselves to drive on the right and give way to the left on roundabouts. Finally our left hand drive truck was coming into its own.
Both tired, we decided not to drive too far on our first evening. Those of you unfamiliar with travelling by motorhome in France will probably not have noticed the ‘Aires de camping car’ in many of the small towns and villages. These are designated areas for motor homes with often four or five parking spots. Sometimes there is the option for a couple of hours of electricity (around €2) and drinking water, which is often free. Generally there will be a drain to dump your grey water (showers/dishwashing) and a dump-point for your black water (toilet).
We selected a random one from an app which had good reviews and drove over.
The village of Grandvilliers sits on the far northern outskirts of Paris, and is fairly unremarkable. We had a stroll around the village and bought some bread from an artisan bakery before retiring for the night.
Friday: A bit of research of the area revealed nothing too exciting for us to aim for, so we picked another location in the general direction of the Champagne region we’re heading to. Either there are no towns of note here, or nobody is writing about them (probably the latter!)!
We drove through relatively flat countryside, mostly growing rape seed for canola oil and various other vegetables, and ended up at another small town, Saint-Quentin.
Saint-Quentin has a long history and was originally founded by the Romans in around the 4th century. Many of the roads we drove to get there were dead straight, a clue to this history. Apparently many Roman artifects and coins are still found in the surrounding fields and properties. This town has a bit of a tragic story, with more than half of its population killed during the great plague and during World War II 80% of the town was destroyed or severely damaged as it was part of the German Hindenburg Line.
Today it is a peaceful centre, with a train line into Paris taking just under two hours, and the Canal du Nord taking water borne traffic through town. Our aires for the night was right beside the canal, so we decided to jump on the bikes for an explore.
Other than a few rowers, there was little traffic on the water, perhaps a bit early in the season for barges. We were interested to see that the canal near here heads underground for a few kilometres. In the early days, it took hours to travel through the 5 or so kilometres but today it is traversed using a chain boat. We didn’t make it up as far as the tunnel.
Saturday: The temperature plunged to 3 degrees centigrade overnight which made for a slow emergence from bed. We really miss the warm bedspread we left with my mum in Hastings, but are hoping that nights this cold will be few and far between as we head south.
We drove to the town of Soissons where there was a choice of large supermarkets to choose from. There we did a huge shop for 10 people – tomorrow is Sunday and French shops will be closed, and we are joining a group of friends who are staying nearby in a house. Somehow we managed to make a whole trolley load of purchases disappear into Truffy, and set off for our night’s destination.
It was not too far to drive to the little village of Longpont. The village is very pretty and dominated by the ruins of an old abbey which was active between 1131 and 1793. It was open to be visited, but with looming black clouds and no roof on the abbey we retreated to a nearby pub instead. Are you surprised?
The Forest of Retz is close by to here, an ancient woodland which has been under protection since 1672, quite rare for Europe where forest was seen as something to cut down and use for fuel or clear for agriculture. Hopefully the rain will hold off so we can go for a stroll tomorrow before we head to Priez, our home for the next few days.
As for tonight, we’re sheltering from the showers (currently marble sized hail!) and are going to enjoy an Italian red (yes, I know, blasphemy in France) with a home made Pad Thai. Bon soir!
Location: Brighton, Hastings and Newhaven Ferry Port, East Sussex, UK
Saturday-Sunday: Before heading to Continental Europe, we spent our final weekend in Brighton with Catherine’s sister Helen and her family. London-on-Sea, as it is jokingly known locally, served up its usual eclectic way with everything from fine dining to a wonderful greasy spoon cafe for brunch.
Then it was time to head along the coast to Hastings and Catherine’s mum, Jenny.
Monday: Catherine and Jenny visited her nearly 97 year old grandma, good genes on that side of the family at least!
A few more lovely home cooked meals from Jenny, and a chance to get some last minute tasks ticked off before we head over the English Channel on Thursday.
Tuesday: Jenny took us over to Hastings Country Park for a short walk and some fresh air, another place of great memories for Catherine.
Later in the day, Catherine took me on her and her sister’s favourite after school activity, a ride down to the beach and along the coast. It was a cold day, but the sun shone and Hastings showed us her good side.
It’s an interesting mix here of demographics, with everyone from a scattering of celebrities, and working class housing estates. If feels an authentic town, with the largest beach based fishing fleet in Europe still bringing in the delicious fish and cockles that we just had to sample.
So many memories from Catherine, shared with me, and it does draw you even closer together understanding someone’s childhood, as I had shown her mine in Kettering.
Wednesday: Now it’s our last day in the UK, with a ferry across to France early tomorrow. I few nerves on my part as I keep running through all the things we need to have sorted. Catherine as ever the calm one, thank goodness.
We are parked up at Newhaven Ferry Port for the night. Little Truffy is dwarfed next to his bigger HGV cousins all waiting for the 9am ride across the Channel to Dieppe. What adventures await us in France?
Location: Ivinghoe, Bucks, Little Gaddesden, Herts & London UK
Tuesday: Leaving Milton Keynes we headed south, travelling just half an hour to reach our next destination. We settled for the night at a farm in the hamlet of Ivinghoe Aston, close to the rolling hills of the Chilterns. The evenings here are light until about 8.30pm, allowing us a chance to go for a stroll.
Ten kilometres (about 6 miles) later we had crossed beautiful countryside via a bridleway and had explored the village of Ivinghoe. We even managed to pop into the local pub for a quick drink before heading back for dinner.
Wednesday: The following morning we departed and drove up to Ivinghoe Beacon. Ivinghoe Beacon is a hill standing 233 metres above sea level. It sits within the Ashridge Estate and is managed by the National Trust, but it has great significance historically. In the past, this location was used to send signals from and was also a fort during the Iron Age (around 800 BCE). More recently it has appeared in Harry Potter and Star Wars movies… For us though, it was a spot to enjoy lunch and a few cups of tea as we sheltered from the blustery cold wind and showers. A good day to be behind glass, as we say!
Eventually there was a break in the weather and we drove a short way down the hill towards Dockey Wood. This woodland is famous for its incredible display of bluebells, and my cousin Karen had let me know they were in full bloom after the warm Easter weekend.
We had only driven a few minutes and we spotted a carpet of purple by the side of the road. We quickly pulled over and went in for an explore. It was incredible, and unbeknownst to us, we were in the quieter less visited woodland area – the main display (and crowds) we found were just down the road where the official car park was.
Dizzy with the delicate perfume of the bluebells, we headed on down to our home for the next three nights, parked up on a farm track close to my cousin and her family in Little Gaddesden.
Before long a taxi arrived to take Mr A, my cousin Karen, her husband Iain and I into nearby Berkhamstead. There we caught up with my old school friend Jo and her husband Stuart for a beverage at a local wine bar, The Berkeley. From there we enjoyed a fabulous Thai meal at The Giggling Squid – delicious food and probably the best Thai we have tried in the UK so far.
Thursday: After a relaxing night’s sleep, Iain gave Mr A and I a lift up to the cafe in Ashridge Estate so we could catch up with an old friend of mine from way back, Amanda. We last met up when she was visiting her sister in Sydney Australia, more than 15 years ago. It was great to see her, and we had a stroll through the woodlands, admiring yet more bluebells.
Mr A and I walked back to Karen’s house through the estate, spotting many deer and enjoying the sunshine as we went.
We’d been back a few moments and I was back in the car with Karen off to visit my aunt while Karen took my uncle to the doctors. It was just enough time for a cup of tea and a tour of the house and garden before heading back for the evening.
Friday: Mr A and I hitched a lift into Berkhamsted when Karen was dropping off her daughters, Hannah and Ella to school. From there, we caught a train into London – Mr A heading off to do some shopping, while I went to Hammersmith and Charing Cross Hospital to take part in a focus group about the major airway surgery I had there back in 2014.
After the group I caught up for an hour with Jacky, a lovely lady with iSGS I have met through the support group I run, before heading back across town to meet up with Mr A, and some more friends at a pub near Warren Street.
It was a fun catch up, with Martin (who was best man at our wedding 17 years ago) plus friends from Australia, Karen and Chris, who are staying with Karen’s sister near Greenwich.
It wasn’t a late night though, we were back on the train to Berkhamsted by 6.30pm and back tucked up in Truffy for the night by 9.30pm. A great end to the week.
Saturday: It was time to say goodbye to Karen and Iain and the girls, and continue our journey south. We really appreciate the hospitality we’ve been shown by the whole family.
Mr A and I are both are loving rekindling old friendships and making new friends on our travels, and particularly cherish the time such as this with family who are also good friends. I hope we are leaving each time with stronger relationships and a better understanding of one another and look forward to spending more time together when we’re back from our European travels.
Location: Harby, Nottinghamshire and Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire
Thursday-Saturday: We were kindly invited to stay over the first part of the Easter weekend, with friends in Harby in Nottinghamshire, a village embodying all thats good about the remnants of rural England. A good pub, a strong sense of community, roads where cyclists still feel safe to venture out on a morning in droves and endless opportunities to potter around the fields on the rights of way that make this beautiful countryside so accessible.
I was lucky enough to make friends at secondary school that have become lifelong mates, along with their wives and partners. The party begins, the catching up on our lives lived so distantly for much of the year.
It feels like we have only just left each other’s company last week. The sound of laughter, music and popping corks rings out over the usually tranquil garden of our hosts. Stunning food is served with of course wines to match. We are having an Italian theme to the party to get us in the mood for a major birthday milestone one of the group has in June, as we have organised to celebrate it together there.
We decide our appetites need to be sharpened by a little cycling, and off we go down a “greenway” as they are called here, that can be accessed from the village. Of course it leads to a pub, and oh…another one on the way back!
It was a merry bunch that sat down to dinner each night!
Easter Sunday–Tuesday: All too soon it was time to bid our farewell and hit the road once again. Next stop: my daughters and grandchildren in Milton Keynes. After catching up over Chinese takeaway the first night, we kicked off with cycling from one daughter’s house (where we were parked), to the other’s house, via the extensive network of “redways” as Milton Keynes calls them, that were designed into the city’s original blueprint. It was fantastic riding with my oldest grandchild, taking his first big ride on a new bike. He did so well.
Both of my daughters are moving to new houses within a few weeks of each other, so an exciting time to hear their plans and see their properties. When we come back in September so much will have changed. They all have worked so hard to make this jump to bigger homes. Very proud of them both. At their age they can afford to take some risks with big mortgages. A period of economic instability, especially in the UK, looks pretty likely.
Our visit also coincided with my oldest grandson’s 7th birthday. He really is maturing at a rate of knots, and in such a good way. A real pleasure to see. So a little surprise was hatched where we met him out of his first day at a new school, in Truffy, and they got to take a ride in their first motorhome. Hopefully memorable!
So we then bid a big goodbye to my family until we are back in September, and pointed Truffy’s nose south in preparation for our upcoming ferry to France next week.