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Just realised that I never finished our blog: crossing the Alps on our way home ...
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Here our 2014 blog for all our fellow travellers who might want to travel up north.
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Lake of Garda, the hotspot of windsurfing in the 80s - and this is how long most people here have been surfing. Still going strong!
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A bread roll machine next to the coffee machine! Since we are now no longer in lovely baguette/croissant/pain au chocolat land, these will do. It would be nicer if they popped out warm, though :).
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And this will probably be our last stop: bella Italia, Nago-Torbole, Lake Garda, Italy. Beny's been out with a bad cold for 3 days but is now foiling, aka flying with windsurf gear on the lake and he loves it!!
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No more washing days as we are nearing the end of our trip. Actually always enjoyed trying to find creative ways to get it done :).
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An evening in Cannes, France. On the red carpet in matching shoes!!
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Plage de Piemanson, Salin-de-Giraud, France. Pretty much always at the same latitude on this trip :), just heading far west and then coming back east.
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This is how the French make sure no RVs go out into the remote parts of the etangs and delta. A kind of tight fit and then 30 minutes of gravel and sand roads ...
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Guests :)). The cute camping cat from this morning and sweet Martha-boo from Forrel, aka Houdini by her dad Ben (another Ben, great surfer guy from Manchester!). Martha loved to dash off and either clean up your van or then take off with anything from shoes to dishes. If sth went missing or was deposited at ours, we always knew who had come to visit.
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Flamingoes before the thunderstorm. The Rhone delta, near Salin de Giraud & opposite St. Maries de la Mer.
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An Ode to the Spanish
(Although we've been in France for some time, some words on Spain.)
After a month in northern Spain we were sad to leave this beautiful part of the country, but also wanted to spend some time in France. Here what we noticed and lived and loved (or got used to).
The Spanish are very sociable creatures. They holiday in groups or large families and everybody bonds very quickly when camping. If they can, they will pitch their tent right next to yours, even if there are plenty of empty pitches. One guy with a BMW convertible literally set up his tiny tent max. 2 meters from our dining table - on a half empty campground. Maybe he felt lonely, but he never said more than hi. The same rule applies to the beach: if there is much space on the beach, sit close to any people you can find.
Lunch time is after 2.30 or 3.00 pm which sometimes left us stranded and with a picnic instead of a paella, because we couldn't face waiting until 4.00 pm, or wanted to go or be somewhere. Dinner time is from 9.30ish on to 11.30 pm and there's lots going on until midnight and curfew on campgrounds. Then it gets quiet and most are not up in the morning before 9ish or later - unless you're up in the mountains.
The Spanish seem to love to holiday in Spain itself (can't blame them) and flock to beaches where they will park everywhere, no rules applying except that you might leave with a few dents, and they park with gusto on roundabouts and such (as that's what they seem to be there for).
Unlike up North, English is not widespread and you need your Spanish, which is in my case at A1 level-ish from my days of evening classes with lovely Patricia from Chile. She used to love to talk, wasn't such an efficient teacher though. And I definitely wasn't giving my all either. But we got by, even with Galician and other dialects where other Spanish said they couldn't understand a word the fish guy had said either. Since 90% of the tourists in summer are Spanish out there, there's no need for any other tongue.
Another difference was trying to get our alcohol para quemar for the camping stove. No prob up north, you get it at any store, but not in Spain. There you need to go to a ferreteria which is kind of a homeware/mom&pop shop with anything from kitchen to camping supplies, tacky souvenirs, fishing equipment and other paraphernalia. So since we didn't bring enough (1 bottle for 2 months? yeees, my bad...) and only realised this out in rural Galicia, every place we arrived we first had to go look for a ferreteria, see if it was open, then ask for alcohol para quemar and if we were lucky, we got some. Always in different colours (blue or pink) and bottles, mind you, and with an eclectic range of shop owners, from lovely and helpful to suspicious and grumpy.
There would be loads more to comment on (the Spanish seem very American/German touristy: where there's a sign or an 'oldest/most beautiful/scenic' something, you must flock to), but the beach calls. So overall, our feel? Definitely heading back to beaut Galicia some time! Asturias and Cantabria too, but NOT in August :)). Wild landscapes, great beaches, sweet and grumpy countryfolk, delicious foods and wines, moving history and music - what more is there to a good holiday?
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