Ah la belle France, at last we have arrived. Am penning this note from an idyllic orchard
in deepest, darkest St George, not far from where the infamous Agincourt. We visited this campsite 10 years ago when on
our last grande vacance en France, and it’s still as basic, tho’ beautiful as
ever, although the weather is a bit on the chilly side. We are determined not to wear our trousers,
but cutting a dash in shorts, crocs and socks, mmm v English / Manx!
We’ve had an eventful few days since leaving the Island
last Thursday. As was expected after
long days and nights of packing, many into the small wee hours, we managed to
scramble our things together for the afternoon sailing to Liverpool. Thanks go out to:
- Clairey for her crèche facilities
- Joaney G for taking our hens (& Erwin promising not to kill them) assisting with the pack up / cleaning, helping with all the children’s parties and tending to the garden/ mowing as time allows
- Mum and Dad for all their help over the last few weeks (childcare, house cleaning, postal redirection, caravan tips and the final send off
- And how could I forget the fantastic, fabulous French washing line that was put up over our driveway in the early hours of Thursday morning by our gorgeous friends Pip and Rich. (for those who didn’t hear there was a washing line full of vests, bloomers and enormous brassieres, spelling out ‘Bon voyage’ and a slightly more dare I say it ‘tasteful’ Cath Kidsonesk bunting with “a bientot” behind this.) Needless to say the CK bunting has come with us (along with a green spotty wooden heart) much to kev’s delight and is adorning the front of the caravan (thanks babe!)
The crossing went without any glitches (although Kev
managed to leave the camera in the cinema lounge of the Mannanin) however the
ramp coming off the boat was so angled and steep we thought that either the van
would bottom out or the left hand side would be scoured out before even
reaching the Liverpool docks. Enjoyed
the hospitality of Sharon and Paul that night and the children had a ball
seeing their cousins, the dance show the following morning was excellent, even
when we got dragged up to dance at 7.30am.
Unfortunately things took a turn for the worst as we
endeavoured to pull the van off the driveway.
Living on a very busy road, kev was already slightly concerned about how
he was going to pull away at speed.
(sorry, just breaking off for a sip of vino) With the car side on to the oncoming traffic
as we pulled the jockey wheel up (I know some of you will not know, so to
elaborate this is the wheel the helps elevate the front of the van so you can
put it over the tow bar) the wheel somehow got stuck under the front of the van
and the handle which winds it up snapped off in Kev’s hand. Oh flippin’ heck we all exclaimed. As Kev used brute strength to lift up the
front of the van, Sharon managed to get the wedged wheel out and after saying a
quick goodbye, we limped off on the next leg of the journey..... to Henley, via
a spares shop to get a new jockey wheel.
Simple enough we thought as Al, a friend down south
mailed us with potential caravan spare shops.
Little did we realise as we turned off the M40 for a shopping detour
that we would get caught up in the smallest hamlet with the largest social
funeral just finishing. As we waited for
black range rover, followed by discovery, followed by porsche, followed by
range rover and so on and so on (for at least 10 minutes) that as we rounded
the corner we would come across the church with old boys wearing old school
ties and commenting on what ‘an awfully nice fellow blah blah was. It was excruciating enough as we went through
the village green and passed the church where said funeral had just finished,
but when we turned full circle and had to do the drive of shame passed the same
vehicles a second time as we attempted to find the camp spares shop, I slunk
lower and lower into my seat. The hill
start that Kev had to do to get us out of the village was probably the lowest
point of the journey (the smell from the clutch stayed with us for the
remainder of the journey!) but we are now in possession of a lovely new jockey
wheel and £70 worse off!
Henley was just lovely.
Great to catch up with old friends, fantastic to see all the children
getting on so well (see Amy’s and Ben’s blog of their take on the weekend!)
everything was so leafy and green and the shops, but I was very good –
currently have a one in one out policy so no new purchases for me.
We left Henley on Sunday afternoon after popping into
town for lunch with the camping gang and meeting up with Tim and Ian, and
getting a tour of Kate and Steve’s new house (if we ever head back down south
Kev now knows the type of house I fancy!) and arrived in Chertsey, south west
of London in readiness for a visit to Legoland the following day. We handed each of the children a named
envelope, saying that this was to be part of their birthday present. Inside was a miniature lego figure and a
ticket for a day pass. They were so
excited, cries of this is the best birthday present ever and you’re the best
Mummy and Daddy ever were heard, bless!
It was rather a cold, cloudy day to visit the legoland or
should that be water park but undeterred by the weather and donning our
waterproofs we headed through the gates full of anticipation and excitement.
(oh just heard a cuckoo calling from the nearby trees, haven’t heard one of
those for years!!) Anyway, the rides
were great – no queues helped – particularly enjoyed the dragon roller coaster,
the 4-D effects show where we managed not to get a good dowsing, seeing Tom’s
little face as he drove his own car around the track and then A & B’s
driving skills on the larger road network, both very nonchalant and the pirate
show finale (how high was the tower they dived off and how cold must that water
have been that they dived into!?! ) Apart from a few panicky minutes where Ben
decided to take himself off for a mooch and Kev being duped into buying the
wrong doughnuts (he was so disappointed at their size) we had a great time and
the rain only arrived as we reached the car.
Left early this morning for our trip to Dover. Chertsey was very handy but I couldn’t get
over the noise from the nearby M25 and the planes landing overhead. Apparently (as I was having a sneaky doze at
the time) Tom’s face was an absolute picture as we drove along the motorway and
this huge plane with its under carriage down flew in front of the car not more
than 200 metres away.
The boat journey passed in a trice, although again it was
fun and games this time getting on the boat. They put the caravans on the 2nd level up with the cars with
a dog leg of a ramp at 45 degrees. We
might have stood a chance of getting up in one if the campervan 2 cars ahead
hadn’t been made to stop, causing the car and van ahead of us to stall and us
to have to stop. Again the clutch was
not at all happy and we may well be visiting a Ford garage in the not too
distant future (doh!) The guy in front
of us was not at all happy and like him we may well be sending a strongly
worded e-mail to P&O before the week is out.
So at last you find us sitting in this lovely little spot
in France. The sun is setting (there’s a
small break in the clouds.) We’re
celebrating with a glass of something cold and sparkly and I better go before I
continue to write about rather than soak up the surroundings. Nigh Night! x
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