Greece to Turkey, up to 12th Dec.

We finally left Alexandroupolis last Tuesday – having made good friends with Rachel and John who are cycling from London to Istanbul on a tandem! - and drove straight to the Turkish border. Our first border crossing for real – all the others have been within the EU and have been plain sailing. It was rather chaotic and lots of little booths with men feeling terribly important and all wanting different pieces of information from us. A sure sign we were leaving the familiar and heading deeper into the unknown – we made big efforts not to get frustrated as it is only going to get worse from here.
3 hours later we had the right documents, with the right stamps, in the right order, shown to the right people and were on our way. We decided to drive as much as we could and took the southern route from the border – not to Istanbul, but south down to Gallipoli. Much to my amazement Pieter had never heard of the Gallipoli campaign and we had a brief history lesson in the car (don’t think my history was perfect, it’s just that I hold the book) – this made me realise that much as Brits of our generation don’t seem to be taught the Boer War, South Africans don’t seem to learn about Gallipoli (antipodeans would be horrified). We made it to the ferry to cross the tiny stretch of the Sea of Marmara, already dark by this time, and made peace with our position as point of interest for everyone else on board (no tourists this time of year). Mara is getting better with public toilets and much more able to take them in her stride – she was the toilet monitor for a long time, refusing to wee in anywhere dirty, without a lock, no loo roll etc. She has relaxed however and even managed to go in the long drop on the ferry – which was on the car deck, without a lock, or glass in the shoulder high window and with about 12 Korean ladies queuing right outside the door. Progress!
From the ferry we drove on south down the coast and had picked out a tiny village off the main road to camp at. Incredibly picturesque spot – a tiny hamlet of Assos, about 6 ancient stone building converted into hotels and restaurants. We squeezed down the tiny wee lanes and had no idea what we might find round each corner – we were hoping to find a panysion (cheap guest house) which reportedly allowed camping . We found it – closed up for the season but with the friendliest man and his pregnant dog. He was insistent there was “no problem” and we could camp in the dusty area right outside his restaurant (also closed). We only set up the roof top tent on the car and decided we’d all squeeze in as it was only for one night. We had a basic toilet, a cold shower and a very crap night’s sleep – but we were 1.5m from the seashore and it was beautiful. Next morning he gave us some boiling water to make coffee and we hit the road and made it as far as Selcuk (pronounced Shelook) where we found an open campsite. We arrived late and felt a bit ripped off by their charges and the fact the electricity didn’t work and she’d turned off the hot water as there was no-one else there...however Pieter found the fuse box and sneakily turned on the water for the next morning, they finally fixed the power and all was well. Next day was our 10year anniversary, spent at Ephesus – the most amazing ruins we have seen yet; even the kids were impressed and managed NOT to say “not more stones”. Then we wandered in Selcuk – kids first experience of pide (pita) pizzas, round the market, an old man joined us for a cay (tea) while we sat and ate – turned out he’d been in catering for the Royal Guard in London for 35years. That night our anniversary was celebrated with a bottle of bubbly crap from Lidl and a movie!!
On the advice from one other camper on our 2nd night we changed our route for getting through Turkey. We are looking for the shortest route to try and make up time. So, we drove inland to Pamukkale – which was indeed as we had been warned – a very sad old tourist trap. 10years ago it had amazing naturally occurring thermal springs cascading down the white travertine terraces. Now the water has dried up and it has the feel of a place trying to grab every last penny out of you before it closes shop. I did take the kids for an explore on foot while Pieter set up the tent and we had an illegal clamber on the white travertine rocks – interesting but not worth the £20each to see more of the next day. We all slept in the roof top tent again (getting the hand of 5 in a 2 man tent), in the car park of a motel. To our joy there was one other lot of people there – an Australian family with 3 kids who are travelling Europe for 18months in their caravan. Our kids were beside themselves and we all stayed up late chatting and letting the kids enjoy other company.
Next day we drove to Antalya where we knew we had a villa booked – heavenly bliss and the same price as camping! Actually even better when you consider this villa as a washing machine included and campsites charge about £5 a wash (if indeed they have a machine at all). Ah, it’s the small things – Mara was thrilled to discover we had an oven (craving pizza), the boys gasped to see they had a bed, and I was so happy with the washing machine and bath. Pieter was in love with the dishwasher as it seems to fall to him on campsites to deal with this chore (although Mara is learning). While we are hot footing it through Turkey as fast as possible we knew we needed to get the car serviced and it made sense to do it here while we could also relax a bit. We also had our Carnet to collect at the nearby DHL office. Thank God we were in a villa, I got the mother of all stomach bugs for 5 days, which Mara and Euan got their own versions of. For every moment I felt miserable, or was trying to deal with a child’s vomit while holding back my own, I kept thinking “at least we are not in a tent”.
We have become Master sneaks at getting wi fi. The villa didn’t have any so we took to carrying the laptop with us wherever we went and I would have it on in the car and yell when I saw an unsecured wi fi signal. Then Pieter would pull over and we’d send and receive to our hearts content! ON the day the car was being serviced I couldn’t face another day in the villa, so despite everyone feeling a bit ropey we all went to drop the car and then spent 5 hours in a nearby shopping mall. We haven’t seen a shopping centre since leaving home – nor have we seen Burger King or Starbucks since August either! Wow, I couldn’t eat or drink from either but Pieter enjoyed it all!
Now our Christmas time checker (Mara) reminds us that there is only 15 days till Christmas and we are to be in Egypt. Had to stay an extra day in the villa to recover from the bugs, so lots of time to make up and a lot of ground to cover.

Thoughts on Turkey??????
1. People are exceptionally friendly outside of the main tourist hubs (where they seem to want to fleece you) – one day we pulled over at a petrol station just to picnic at the back of the car. The garage attendant walked over to us with 2 free cups of tea, no other hidden agenda. At the villa an old man walked down the path every day to feed a dog which was tied to the fence. The 2nd day he appeared at our door with a bag bursting with home grown peppers, chillies, tomatoes and mandarins.
2. Once again it is the women who seem to run the businesses – campsites, pensions, etc – the men are the public face but it is the women who take the money, drive a hard bargain etc.
3. The street food is as great as the Lonely Planet said it would be (although I haven’t had much chance to try it yet, being sick most of the time)
4. Turkey has immense poverty, much like Greece but we think a shade worse. Bread at least is only 35Kurus a loaf here (about 17p) – whereas in Greece it was Euros 0.90.
5. We hear the Mosque wherever we are which bears witness to the fact it is a 98% Muslim country, however there seems to be quite open views – beer is readily available and there are huge billboards of raunchy bikini clad women all over the show.
6. We have absolutely not seen enough, but will come back.


PS: Just made it to Antakya last night (11th Dec) – we drove from Antalya to Antakya (confusing eh?) in one day – about 790kms which took 11hours and horrific conditions. At some points the road just stopped as they appear to be building a new one, but in the meantime you must just hit the mud and drive around the dumper trucks. Not so very awful if it was dry and sunny – like the other 10 months of the year – but we are in RAINY season and have had 48hours of thunder and lightning and torrential rain. Repeatedly we thanked our lucky stars for a 4x4 and we made it through. We arrived generally buggered, into a busy Eastern influenced town, at 9.30pm. By sheer luck we found the Lonely Planet’s recommended hotel – a jaded French colonial building converted a long time ago into a jaded hotel. Friendly though and next door to a huge restaurant which was packed with locals and had a kid’s play area (with a lady to LOOK AFTER THEM!!!!!) and we ate pide, kebap, drank Efes beer, unwound and collapsed into bed at a ridiculously late hour..........
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Mid to End November – Meteora to Alendroupolis

Our first night in Meteora was in the 3 star Lonely Planet recommended place. We had thought we’d only be there one night and we can’t justify camping for one night when it takes over an hour to set up camp and about 2 hours to break it. It was a nice place, friendly hosts, but not incredible value for money. Anyway, it had an en suite bathroom and that is something not to be sniffed at on this trip. Two major things happened that night – 1. We heard that Tara and Dave were coming to join us there the next day, hurrah, an unexpected chance to meet up with new friends. 2. I discovered that the kids had lice. Time stops, mind freezes, mental panic. MY KIDS??? Lice????? That evening dragged into an eternity as i waited for the next morning and for a pharmacy to open. Pieter was immediately sent off to purchase anything and everything the pharmacist recommended while i fed the kids. He returned and everyone was lotioned and potioned and showered to within an inch of their lives. I then felt we needed to return to said pharmacy to purchase more of this stuff to go through the same procedure a few days later and be sure the blighters were dead. Pharmacist found my over reaction hysterically funny and said that we should think of our new friends as a little “souvenir from Greece”. Strangely i had sense of humour failure at this point. I felt sure that our new visitors were due to Euan’s cuddling of every stray, however the pharmacist declared this was definitely not the case and they would have come from other children – Greek children. “There is nothing strange in this” she claimed, “all Greek children have lice at this time of year”. My mind jumped back to our 2 separate nights in the one bedroom apartment in Athens with Ioannis and family.....ick ick ick.
So crisis averted (or overcome) we made our way to the campsite in Meteora to set up camp and wait for Tara and Dave. Sadly what was to come became our only bad experience of Greek people to date. The woman at the campsite was a horror who took pleasure in screaming at our children, frightening them half to death, blaming them for the shit that was floating in their dirty toilets, for things that were broken in the toilet block, for playing on their bikes, etc. All three kids had nightmares due to this woman and if it hadn’t been for the great company of Tara and Dave we would have left after one night. Exploring Meteora was amazing, check out this link for some amazing pictures meteora. Little monasteries and nunneries perch on the top of these weird rock formations and we visited 2 and around the mountain passes to see the others. We had great evenings, drinking too much wine, eating great meals that Dave prepared for us, chatting and appreciating the company.
From Meteora and our farewell to Gerty the motor home and her inhabitants, we drove as much as we could in one day and got to Kavala on the North Eastern coast by nightfall. We popped our heads in on a 4 star hotel to get a quote and fell over backwards to discover that B&B in a 4 star hotel was going to be cheaper than any of the other 3 nights we have had in paid hotel-type accommodation where we have had barrack style beds, plastic furniture etc. Well, that’s us got another new rule for the trip – when we need accommodation we’ll get a quote from a 4 star place first!! It was a lovely room, LOVELY bathroom with huge shower and plenty of space for me to set about attacking the kids with the pharmaceutical concoctions for killing unwanted guests (which were probably long dead but i am paranoid). A lovely breakfast the next with an amazing view and we left to drive on feeling rested and clean and pampered. Ahhhh, there is nothing like a splash of luxury after weeks in a tent. So we drove on to Alexandroupolis, the town nearest the border with Turkey and where we knew there was another campsite open. And this is where i type from – a gigantic campsite where we, once again, are the only visitors! This is our third night and we have had 3 days of rain and the weather is like Scotland in October. Mud everywhere, wet tent, clothes that won’t dry and no washing machines. The boys fell in the mud 3 times this morning which now means that every pair of shorts they possess is hanging on a line with little chance of drying. Euan is playing in his swimming shorts and Archie is in the one last remaining pair of long trousers and banned from leaving the tent. The upside of course if that my hands have never been so sparkly clean after all this hand washing. We have at least had company until today – Rachel and John going from London to Istanbul on a tandem and Peter and Agnes who are driving to Jordan in their motor home.
The campsite has the obligatory contingent of stray cats and the supermarkets have the obligatory number of stray dogs who loiter in the hope a shopper will give them food. There is not a lot to do in this town so Mara and i had a girl’s afternoon and wandered round the town at leisure yesterday – it didn’t take long but we found a cafe to sit and treat ourselves in and i found Zara – yes, a real and honest to god fashion clothes shop. Mara was dragged in and i found a pair of trousers – hurrah – now i have a second pair which means my jeans can walk themselves to the laundry room and get clean at last.
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Early to Middle Nov - Nafplio to Meteora

Somehow or other an entire month has almost past...and we are still in Greece. It has not really been intentional but things have worked out that way and acutally we have enojyed seeing so much of this country. We ended up stayig 18nights in Nafplio - the campsite was incredibly easy to stay on in, despite being the only campers most week nigths (it would then fill up with Greeks from Athens for the weekends). We enjoyed the fact the weather improved and we could spend the odd day at the beach, jumping waves, or pracitising swimmings, gazing at wee fish under the water with our goggles on, learning to fish at a remote wee local harbour (didnt catch anything), building model boats out of junk and then seeing if they could sail (i called this Art Class for the purposes of home schooling!), cycling to nearby villages, meeting the weekend visitors to the campsite who were all from Athens and Nafplio was there little haven to escape to, wandering in the old part of town (the Venice of Greece), meeting Christos the Travel Agent who helped us realise there was no short cut by boat to Egypt, meeting Christos's wife who sold me a great pair of hiking boots which i hate fashion-wise but love cos my feet are warm for the first time. We did day trips to Athens to sort out Syrian visas - which turned into an overnight visit as the Syrian Embassy decided to close an hour earlier than they had said they would on the phone (a sign of the joys that are to come the further south we go), we drove to Epidavros (ancient home of modern day medicine - "more stones" in the minds of 3 children) and we hung out with the two german families who arrived at the campsite just before we left - WITH children - hurrah! they were all lovely, spoke incredible English and we enjoyed nights sitting talking and letting the kids play and do crafts together during the day. Pieter also managed to drive over a kitten at the site.....eeek.........
From Nafplio it was back to Athens for a final night with Ioannis and his family, then north the next day to Stylida, East of Lamia. From this base (another deserted campsite) we did day trips to Thermopyles (amazing hot springs and the chance encounter with lovely Gunther and his wife who camp there for 3 months of the year) and to Delphi (“oh no....not MORE stones”) – of note was the very scenic drive through Mount Parnassus (took rather a long time and was steep and windy, but pretty amazing) to reach Delphi.
On the morning we left Stylida we got up at dawn and drove back to the hot springs for a final dip and a farewell with Gunther. The kids loved it there. Then off we set to Kalambaka to visit the amazing Meteora area.



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we have a TENANT!!!!

Just heard about 1 hour ago that we have a new tenant, they've paid their money and have the house keys. Yippee!
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Greece: Gytheio to Napflio Thursday 28th October – Monday 1st November

We left our dodgy campsite in Gytheio with the even dodgier showers with mixed feelings. P and I glad and happy to be off to better things, the kids very very sad to leave behind the gorgeous stray puppy who had wandered into the campsite on our 2^nd day there and had set up camp next to our tent as he was showered with affection from 3 wee people. Mara is really sad once again to lose new friends – she really took to Tara and Dave and they were exceedingly kind in return. We keep explain it’s not losing friends, it’s making new friends who will still be your friends and we can see again in the future. It’s a tough lesson i suppose and hard for her to see the positives.

We are now in Napflio – reported to be the Venice of Greece. We are on a spotlessly clean campsite and the skies are clear blue and the beach about 30seconds away. The only downside is it is not very warm. About 16 or 17 degrees during the day and only about 10 or 11 at night. Pieter asks me every day why i took OUT of the trailer our little electric portable heater before we left. Heh ho, i was convinced that we were heading to warm countries and anyway, once in Africa the campsites won’t have electricity. Mosquitoes have been an ongoing irritation, but we have rigged up our mossie net in the trailer tent and the 3 kids sleep in the wee dome tent and that remains closed all the time. However when the kids tent got flooded at the last place the kids had 2 nights sleeping on the floor in with us and they got tons of bites. Poor Archie seems to react really badly and really swells up – he hasn’t been able to see out of one eye for 2 days as the eye lid is puffed up like a golf ball due to a bite. Doesn’t bother him and we have spent mornings by the beach while they guddle around and collect hermit crabs and Pieter chats up the old English couples.

Pieter is being very useful in this regard. We have got lots of inside info from his chatting up of old ladies – the other night he got talking to a tubby Greek lady in her nightie and got some amazing food recommendations. She sent us off to a wee place where mains cost 2 Euros, a litre of wine 3 Euros ( i still couldn’t face it, thanks Tara!) and it was fresh, cooked in front of us and alive and bustling with only locals.

We have met an 80 year lady from London who lives permanently on this site in her caravan and has travelled the world. It’d say she was an aging hippy, but i guess she is actually too old even for that. An early adopter of the travelling lifestyle then.

Our mission is to get to a travel agency and find out the quickest way to get to Egypt. It is getting so cold that we just have to rush now to get south. This morning we chatted with someone who travels in Syria and he thought we’d be mad to even try and camp there at this time of year. So, we have asked about ferries but such is the relationship between Greece and Turkey that ferry agents in Greece won’t give you any information about Turkish ferries at all – not even the names of the ferry companies...this makes life difficult. The internet is great (when we have it) but i can’t find out for sure if the winter ferries take cars or not. I need a real person with no racial issues!

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Italy to Greece, 18th - 28th October

We safely made it to the port of Venice (eerie feeling driving towards a city where you know cars are banned and no-one else is on the road) and found our ferry company and collected tickets and made it onto the boat. A strange juxtaposition of affairs – when Mara and i went on board (leaving Pieter and the boys to wait in the car to drive it into the garage deck) we were greeted cordially by 4 crew and our luggage taken from us and we were escorted to our cabin. Mara found this hilarious as our “luggage” was a clear plastic underbed storage box and an assortment of polythene bags – not exactly the usual porter moveables! Our cabin turned out to be quite big, with 4 bunks and a window and a temperamental loo and shower. So far so good. It turned out the only other people on board were about 100 truck drivers, mostly Greeks, all transporting goods home. So it was a long (40hrs) but  the kids found a TV on deck and happily watched Greek TV as if they were fluent (the wonders of that flickering screen). We taught the kids how to play the basic card game of switch – a big step forward in the family, we can all play a card game together (although Euan is a bit ropey on suits and ruled and other basics...). Food was a bit dodgy and priced as if we were at the Ritz, but as 2 of our polythene bags contained snacks we survived. I made friends with the sour faced woman who served at a kiosk and thawed out her grumpy face and got her talking about Greece and Crete and pointing out good places to go on our map. We also discovered that the Greeks love Rusks – hurrah! To a half Afrikaans family life could not get much better...so now we have plentiful supplies of rusks to dunk in our coffee (learnt very fast to avoid the Greek coffee unless you want to chew your drink).

The boat was late arriving and we only got to the port of Patras at about 9.30pm. Then we had to squeeze through about 15 trucks by foot in the dark and claustrophobic cargo deck – a bit hairy as they all had their engines going and some wheels were taller  than Euan. Then we sat for an hour and half waiting for everyone to unload before us – the natural order of things i suppose – what the hell are we carrying that is important to the Greek economy? So we finally rolled off the boat close to 11pm into a very harem scarem port and began searching for somewhere to rest our (very) weary heads. The closest thing which could take us was a 2 star little place which did the job. Basic, but 4 single beds and curtains. We slept like logs.

Monday dawned with torrential rain which everyone said was going to last for 3 days and we had to get out of the town, stock up with supplies and find a campsite. Rather depressing to think of setting up camp in torrential rain so we found out the location of the closest tourist office and made our way there to see if there were any budget self catering places nearby. Of course we didn’t think – it’s October, or perhaps it was just that it was a Monday, or maybe tourist offices close when it rains....anyway, it was all closed up. So we started to drive South and found a campsite just south of the small port of Kyllini. It was on the beach which was going to prove lovely when the thunderstorms and howling gales subsided 3 days later. Only Austrians and Germans at the campsite which seemed odd until they explained to us that for them it’s a remarkably easy journey. 4 hours by car from their homes to the ferry in Italy. Sail to Greece and then voila....drive anywhere you like. It sure makes you realise how cut off we are from Europe in Britain.

From the campsite we explored Olympia, where the original Olympics began and between rain showers we wandered around the ruins, saw the Temple of Zeus, let the kids race on THE original Olympic track. Mum and Dad were in awe, the kids were more interested in spotting lizards. Some things don’t change!

When the nice weather finally arrived we LOVED chilling at the campsite, doing the veritable Santa sack load of washing which had accumulated, swimming in the sea and in the campsite pool (the only ones doing that, everyone else found it far too cold – how to spot a Brit a mile off!), home schooling outside the tent with sun filtering through the leaves above us, meeting the Austrian family nearby who were camping with 10month old twin boys (how brave is that?)... All too soon we had to pack up and head on though, the rain had started up again and winter is still nipping at our heels and we have more places to see. So on Saturday 23^rd we packed up and left and headed South; had thought of getting all the way to the very south of the Peleponese peninsula, but one 60km stretch of non stop hairpin bends and climbing from sea level to above the clouds in 20kms killed that idea. The car has never worked so hard having to climb so fast. Kids were singularly unimpressed to be above the clouds until we said they must keep an eye out for Zeus (where does one draw the line between little fibs to make the real world more exciting and not wanting to fill their heads with nonsense?).

So, only made it far as Mystras, which we had already heard was beautiful. There is a little village and then up on the mountainside the original village which is all Byzantium. We headed to the campsite and it awful and overpriced. So  we started to drive around the village to see if there were any signs anywhere for hostels or B&B’s. We found a room in a house which had 5 single beds, a plastic table, a hot plate, a fridge and a loo and a shower. You don’t need much more. More stray cats everywhere – seem to be everywhere. So we got to explore the ruined Byzantium village before heading off South again to the village of Gytheio (pronounced Y-th-ee-o). The only campsite open was a rather strange place – felt as if we had arrived the day after a week long party. IT was right on the beach however. Sadly the thunder storms began, the waves crashed, the rain pelted and we laid low – hanging out with some new friends –Tara and Dave, an English couple who are touring the world (or a lot of it!) in their motor home for 2 years. We had one glorious day of sunshine where everyone did mounds of washing and queued for the washing machines (of which one broke after the first person’s load) and had tepid showers. Thank God for the Dutch though – one eccentric Dutch man complained about all of it and the hot water and washing machines were fixed by lunchtime! This Dutch man turned out to be quite a character, a professional story teller, spiritual healer, ex civil engineer and has been touring the world in his mobil home for over 10years. Stranded at the campsite longer than we intended (and having said a sad farewell to our new English friends and then promptly having the kids tent flooded out in yet MORE torrential rain and needing to dry out sleeping bags, pillows, ground sheets, tents etc) we were co-erced into a story-telling evening with him and his magic carpet. Hmmmm.  While in the area we did drive around the southern peninsula and saw amazing deserted beaches, mountain side fortified villages of the Mani, went shell and urchin collecting, and cycled to the nearest town for the toughest calamari we’ve ever experienced.

Lessons learned in Greece so far:

1. 1.       Never trust the weather
2. 2.       Greek yogurt is absolutely nothing like what i’ve been buying for years; it’s better
3. 3.       Greek white wine is fine, but don’t have too much as the hangovers are sent from Satan to punish you.
4. 4.       Greek drivers are insane 
5.  Greeks love kids
6. 
   
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PS: PHotos are coming soon - just paying for every minute of internet and can't manage everything at once!

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Wed 13th - Sat 16th October : Au revoir France and hello Italy....

So Wednesday dawned through our great big ancient shutters.....

We left our beautiful bedrooms, lovely white cotton linen, huge stone bathrooms and amazing hosts .....and back to the car and our air of gypsy circus. A bee line route out of France and straight to Venice to get the ferry to Greece. 

All the campsites in Northern Italy are closed so we stopped for 2 nights at a B&B outside Cremona. Typically only we could find a place like this. Bizarre owner who was intensely shy, yoga obsessed and kept doing prayer stances all the time. We were in the tiniest hamlet and would have expected a big burly Italian farmer and his wife – instead it was incense and thai themes and oh so many mosquitoes. Two bedrooms though – so that was a bonus -  and a bathroom between us which was very modern. We had the worst night ever the first night being eaten alive by mossies and hearing that “eeeeeeeee” in our ears. So the day spent touring around the Cremona area was slightly jaded by itchy blotches, sleep deprivation and following the tour guide advice of the owner of what was a “must see “ if you only had one day. One look at her flowing clothes, shamanic tattoos and the decor and books around the house should obviously have warned us. We went off on a wild goose chase to a village she claimed was THE thing to see in the area. We found a 100year old man made medieval theme village which was all shops of cartoon and kitsch wizards, sweets, medieval weapons and closed gift shops. Within 30ms of arriving Euan fell into a puddle of mud up to his waist and that was the outing over. Even his underwear was mud soaked and although he was quite game for continuing sight seeing naked it was only 13degrees and perhaps inappropriate.  

So a quick trip to a supermarket where i whizzed round alone and collected larder items that you feel you must buy if in Italy – gorgonzola, olive oil, amazing pasta....and back to the B&B. 

Left Cremona on Friday morning and headed to Venice. Italian motorways are officially pretty hair raising and the closer we got to Venice the crazier it became. You are charged a small fortune to use the motorways and then feel you have just taken your life into your own hands. 3 lanes – the slow lane all gigantic lorries nose to tail thundering along at 110kph (although the sticker on their back door would claim they were limited to 80) with every truck driver clutching his mobile phone. The middle lane was for all the even faster lorries overtaking  and the fast lane was for very new, very big and very fast cars which went ape if you were doing anything under 150kmph. We were between a rock and a hard place ;-)

Anyway, tonight we are in a Novotel, outside of Venice. It was the same price as a static caravan at the nearby campsite – that was not a difficult choice! Went into Venice centre by bus today and wandered around and ate pizza and pasta next to the canal. Not quite sure how and where we get to the port tomorrow for the ferry to Greece....the instructions for the greek travel agent were fairly vague, actually non existent...but we seem to have to drive back into Venice...which appears to be a car free city. Well, tomorrow is a whole new day.
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Sunday 10th - Wednesday 13th October, backwards before forwards...

                       

Sunday morning 10^th finally dawned after a night of tears, howling gales, a flying tent pole, flapping canvas and loud pattering rain. However it also brought a change in our camping fortunes as we encountered yet more incredible kindness. David and Liz Smith, a couple we had never met before but had a link to through Craigclowan, invited us to come and stay a night with them. It was a bit of a way in the wrong direction (we were heading East to Italy and they were back North West near Avignon) – however when someone offers you a real bed and hospitality for the night (in their castle) and you are in a miserable campsite and have woken up in pouring rain and have scarcely slept as the 60mph winds whipped at the canvas, you don’t say no.......

I don’t know that we have any photos which would really give you an idea of this amazingly special place. We found the most amazing welcome from a family we had never met before and the most amazing tale of restoring a castle which in parts is 1000years old. Liz and David opened their front door, welcomed us in, allowed big hot baths aplenty and positively encouraged use of the washing machine. A washed out campers dream.

And then there was the service...poor Liz never stopped catering for us all. Proper lunches (not just torn off chunks of baguette) and hot dinners, lovely Vin a L’Orange (got the recipe for this one...just wait till you try it) and children who had veritably died and gone to heaven. There was a room up on the top floor where all the “grown out of” toys were put. They moved in immediately and we never saw them, except when Adam and Andrew got home from school and then they were glued with adoration to the heels of the bigger boys. Mara made an excellent comment while there...”Mama, did you know that this place is actually a castle on the outside? It’s so strange because it is a house on the inside”. What a perfect summation – that is indeed what it was – a beautiful old and impressive building turned into a true home. So, thanks to Liz and David for looking after us and allowing us to make lots of use of their internet phone and wi fi and make calls backs to Perth, book a ferry to Greece (easier said than done....Greek travel agents....another story) and organise our next few days.

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28th September to 9th October, Normandy to the Camargue

Once again I am behind the times; it seems to happen all too easily!

We left Normandy on 28^th September and hot footed to the south coast of France. One night camping near Tours (only 3 degrees at night...brrr...) then another night in the mountains (brrr again). Got to Montpelier on 30^th and headed straight to a MacDonald’s for their free wi fi and to get news on Beechwood and communicate with the agent. No news really. The prospective new tenants will not sign until their house sale goes through so we won’t get news till around the 21^st of October and then they want to move straight in. Nail biting continues (actually I don’t have any left).

Found a campsite in a wee village called Lansargues in the midst of the Camargue region which is rather like Spanish Basque country – own dialect, lots of bulls (Torreaux), bull fighting, their own type of cowboys who round up the bulls (called Guardians) and lots of white horses (the type used for the bulls). Small and quiet campsite which was just what we were after. Set up the whole tent ensemble and almost immediately became friends with a lovely French couple next door who own their own mobile home on the site – Georges and Sylviane. What a bonus this was, Georges spend the first evening (unbeknown to us) creating a tour route for us to follow the next day to see the highlights of the area – Aigues Mortes (an ancient village still enclosed by the ancient city walls), Le Grande Motte (a rather ugly modern seaside town with bizarre architecture and millions of yachts) and then onto the wee village of Stes Maries de la Mer.

Through George and Sylviane we were introduced to Christian, a real life Guardian (complete with 2 white horses called Pegase and Aramis. He let the children have a ride on Pegase and showed us his collection of old horse drawn carriages. We watched the last round of a bull fight in a nearby village – unlike Spain, in French Torreaux the bull is superior; he is not killed but many young men in white  (Les Razeteurs) try and remove 3 ribbons attached to the bull’s horns. Very exciting – men in white leaping out of the ring very acrobatically - the kids loved it.

Two nights quickly became extended as the car alternator packed up and the car disappeared off into a garage to await a new one for 4 days. We were left with bikes and the generous assistance of Christian who drove me to the supermarket and generally helped us out with everything we couldn’t achieve by bike power alone. (by the way, the it turned out the only reason the alternator broke was due to a mistake back in Scotland – the garage there had over tightened some belt or other and this overheated and something broke off into the alternator and broke it. A frigging expensive error on their part. I leave Pieter to get on their case).

So our over-riding memories of our 9 nights in the Camargue region....

1.  Our 3 lovely new friends who could not have been kinder or most welcoming and gave us an amazing insight into the region
2.  The children getting to ride the horses and being pulled by carriage throughout the local countryside while Pieter, Sylviane and I rode behind on bikes. We collected apples, grapes and berries en route.
3.   Another adventure in Christian’s 4x4 into the heart of the Torreaux – to the Manade he is connected to (the name given to the farm owning the bulls for the fights to which a group of Guardian ride for). We saw the salt marsh lands and all the flamingos, duck hunters Cabanas (ancient old stone buildings which provide shelter for a few nights when out in the middle of the marshes for shooting). There are other Cabanas for the Guardians when they are out herding the bulls.
4.   Evenings spent talking with Georges and Sylviane and one dinner in their “house” with Christian – me struggling to understand his local (and strong) accent and everyone being very sympathetic with my French. Lovely local sausage, Kir Royales, great red wine and excellent company with new friends.
5. Some days of glorious weather, some days of howling gales and home schooling around the tent – the routine has formed that Pieter deals with maths and I do English. While one was having lessons the other two got to bounce around on the campsite trampoline!
6. Not very warm showers and having to share each one with 2 shivering, purple lipped children – or on a good day, only one.
7. An afternoon visit by bike to the local wine farm “Domaine de Moulines” where the kids played outside in the vines and collected conkers while we did tastings by ourselves with the grandson of the wine farm, Vincent. All great wines, most around £4 – wow.
8.  Mara thrilled to have a real life French lesson from Sylviane
9.   Archie with a new vocation in life – no longer wants to be a racing car driver, but instead Une Guardian (no surprise there – chasing round the countryside on a white horse and rounding up bulls with a long pointed Trident!)

Sadly we eventually had to leave this place we felt we had come to know better than most tourists. On Saturday 9^th October we left Lansargues after some sad farewells (Mara particularly upset to leave G&S and we had to explain that actually it wasn’t sad to leave as we had made new friends who would always remain our friends in France) and drove to the very tip of the peninsula south of Hyeres in the Cote D’Azur (Presqu’ile de Giens). We stupidly arrived really late as we detoured to Arles on the way to see the town that Vincent van Gogh spent much of his life. So we arrived at a rather awful campsite, plagued by camper vans and motor homes and no locals at all. We ended up pitching the tent in the dark, in howling gales and rain and scarcely speaking to each other. When all was finally set up and pegged down again (and again...and through the night....again) we made it inside (by now about 9pm) – grumpy and miserable. The tiniest pitch in the world without space for the car, the dome tent, or any privacy (I could touch the table of the camper van next door from our tent) – plus it was a rip off. We were cold, the toilets were miles away ......grrr.  To add to the evening as we finished some heated up soup I got the news that Uncle John Fyfe had died. Wow. Such a massive part of my life and most of my childhood memories involve UJ and AI. Many tears that night, from all of us. He was an amazing, gentle man. He taught me one of most major habits –whistling – from the operatic stuff I seem to do subconsciously to the monumentally loud and unladylike football stadium kind.
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the last 3 weeks

It has taken me a while to blog again - hoped i would have great news to report that Beechwood had a new tenant. Not yet, although there is a family in the pipeline who have put down a deposit but won't sign until the sale of their house goes through in 3 weeks time. Nail biting stuff and we continue to live on a shoestring. Frustrating.
Anyway, we had 3 weeks in total in Normandy - unexpected and we are indebted to the Brysons for letting us stay in their cottage. We had the opportunity to really mix with the local way of life though - the farmer and his wife next door took us under their wings and had us over a few times for sociable things. A real test of my French which has probably never had a real test run as i have always bowed out whenever anyone with better French piped up. However in this family there is no-one with any better French so it has been mine or nothing. I have been amazed at what the grey cells can dredge up 17 years after school finished. I think i could say we actually conversed which i would never have thought possible - albeit with some hand signals, the occasional reference to a dictionary and much umming and erring. So big memories of 3 weeks:

1. first social visit to the farm for an aperitif and we arrive to watch a heifer struggling in labour, the farmer with his left hand totally immersed "up there", the wife dancing out of the way of cascading poo and holding a torturous looking metal winch which was dragging the calf out by the feet. Archie was near gagging in disgust, Mara was most concerned with everyone's welfare and Euan was just about underneath the cow with fascination. Calf was born, thought to be dead and tied upside down by its feet to a metal gate and kicked in the head a few times and had two buckets of water thrown over it. Still nothing (quelle surprise). Then it was given an adrenaline shot and heh presto - all was well. Sigh of relief from Mara, "can i touch it" from Euan and "yeuch, it's covered in snot" from Archie. Then we got down to the proper business of tasting home-made Pommeau (delicious) and white wine mixed with Creme de Cassis (seemed odd but tasted like juice and is truly deadly). We rolled home for lunch.
2. two visits to the hospital for Archie and his broken arm. Amazed how well the nurses spoke English, how grumpy the secretaries were (so like our GP's surgery at home), amazed at the similarities to the NHS (wait here, now wait there, now over there please...oops... wrong department and wrong paperwork, wait there instead). Cast is now off, arm still looks squint and swollen and doctor recommended an x-ray in 3 months - round about the time we will hit Sudan - great!
3. being the only customers in the nearest Aldi - every visit! (you know i love it!) 
4. the local Marche (markets) where we always bought bread and thereafter wandered, or would have wandered, but it seemed more like we dragged, the kids. Did buy local cured sausage and discovered in amongst such really tempting items like dried sausage with chestnuts, dried sausage with red wine horrors such as dried DONKEY sausage. eeh gads.
5. sleeping like logs due to the fantastic Normandy tradition of wooden shutters - the kids slept till 9am, sometimes 10am every day. We should start an importation business.
6. visiting the nearby town's crustacean festival - very interesting for the kids - live lobsters and crabs and such all crawling around and being picked over by avid consumers. Rather smelly however and the sight of the locals buying "une kilo" and sitting down at a trestle table with a bottle of vin and sooking and slurping their way through the shells, slime and bits was not for the faint hearted.
7. Mara being allowed to go by herself to the farm to collect the nightly fresh milk - so proud of herself. Still slightly threw me each night to be handed a litre of body temperature milk - seemed less off putting in the morning after being chilled. She went off this duty after 3 days of rain and then the walk to the cow shed turned into a poo slide...she then tried to convince Archie he might like the chore instead (she's not daft) which he only fell for once. 
8. Normandy seemed rather poor which was sad, so many many houses tumbling down - and real old gems of places with charm and character. I only got to the tip of the ice berg with the reasons why, but the architecture is beautiful and it was such a doleful sight to see ancient buildings going to ruin.
9. visiting and picnicing in beautiful spots like Abbey D'Hambye ( http://www.abbayes-normandes.com/Abbeys?cbbArc13=&ficCode=66&page=1) - from 1147, Ducey (from 1066 http://www.google.co.uk/images?hl=en&rlz=&q=ducey+france&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=CUamTNDsBY-SjAeAjqnADA&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDAQsAQwAw&biw=1024&bih=499) -  all history and awe-inspiring craftsmanship completely lost on kids of course.
10. my guilt over the falling apples - it nearly killed me. Orchard on our doorstep and all these apples becoming windfall. I made bucketfulls of pureed apples but only P and I would eat it. So got Caroline to email a chutney recipe and spent an afternoon doing that - felt rather sackcloth and sandals like in a cottage with no TV and no radio in the middle of nowhere and kids doing puzzles on the floor and the stove lit and me stirring at the stove. Till i realised i'd added 2 desert spoons of cayenne pepper instead of chilli powder...and someone's cast got swung into someone else's eye...and someone's 200 piece puzzle got stood on by the crying someone else with the sore eye....you get the picture.
11. home-schooling began. Phew, new respect (of which i might add, i had plenty already) for teachers. Was absolutely shattered after the first afternoon of it. Different reasons why, one child so blessedly conscientious, another so dammed intuitively smart but with attitude of a 15year old, the last who point blank refuses to come anywhere near the table to sit down because he's got grasshoppers or spiders or moths to catch. Ou est le vin blanc?

will let you know in another blog about where we are now - in the deepest south, having chased the sun. Will have photos too :)

Fxx

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France

A couple of things we have noticed in France and perhaps someone knows why these are....
first of all , how can it be that at the local village markets a real, live, clucking, many-egg-laying-years-in-it chicken costs less than a cauliflower? That's insane.
Secondly we are surrounded by dairy farms and Fresian cows (and lots of other types of cows that i don;t know the names of) - and i really mean surrounded. Everywhere in Normandy seems dairy related. So why on earth is it you can't buy fresh milk? You can buy dairy in any long life way you like - yogurts, creme caramel (which is purchased in packs of 24 - urgh), custard etc but no chance on 2 litres of the fresh stuff. Where does it all go? it leaves your mind wondering....so out of the cow, into the lorry,off to the factory and turned into hideous kids desserts and UHT milk; sorry, not forgetting the vast amount that disappears off to be turned into cheese. Strange.

We did take the kids out for afternoon tea yesterday - to a trendy tea shop in a nearby marina town (Granville). www.picorette.fr. We tried not to blink when we saw the prices of a bowl of ice cream, or the surcharges for wanting 1)milk in my coffee  or 2) it decaffinated, and couldn't indulge Euan's desire for a chocolat chaud at £3.50. It is all about the experience after all and the kids spoke their basic French to the waiter and are now totally au fait with waving Au Revoir when we leave places.




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if you're having a nervous breakdown, have it in France

It has been a really long time since i posted anything - for good reason, there was nothing to say, no tenant to report and no leaving date. Then we found a tenant but i still didn't post as his signature was not on the dotted line. However he had parted with his deposit, visited the house 6 times and we thought it was a sure thing....so we left.
We left Perth last Saturday and had two rather liver pickling, but great, days in Northern England with our great friend. Then one night in a very good Premier Inn in Dover - good in all counts except pest control. We were all eaten alive by mosquitoes, something we hadn't expected for another couple of countries.
Anyway we are now at the gorgeous holiday cottage of the Brysons, and loving having beds, a bathroom, a cooker and internet access for the last time. We have a veritable mobile office set up and i am busy sorting out our various insurance policies (ran out of time for that at home!) and the last few details of the tenancy.

Catastrophe yesterday however - the tenant pulled out of the whole deal, at the 11th hour - he was supposed to be moving in on the 15th. We are shell shocked and gutted. So now we don;t know what is happening - without a tenant we might have to return to Perth. For now we will wait a few days in Normandy, Archie is due to get the cast off his broken arm on Monday (thanks to Adam and Wendy for making that appointment in French for us!) so we will stay till then at least. How stressful is this???? We have left home and now are totally up in the air again. Of course if you are going to have a nervous breakdown i do believe i am in one of the better spots - wine is cheap and good and plentiful ;)

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no news is not always good news

No much chat from us over the last few weeks for the simple reason there has not been much to report i.e. NO TENANTS! Argh....Here we are itching to be off and we are held off by the fact the house has not rented. We still leave on Wednesday for France, which was to have been the big start to the trip - a week in Normandy with family. However, we are now returning to Perth after the week and just have to keep our fingers crossed that the house rents over the summer. Don;t ask about worst case scenarios or contingencies, there are none, we simply HAVE to work on the presumption that the house will rent (eventually).
We are stopping off in England on the way there and back - Peterborough, Leicestershire, Canterbury etc...so if we are passing near to you let us know!!
Hope to blog again with better news soon :) F

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tenants or no.....

what a stressful and out of control state to be in. All ready to go, vehicle undergoing its final preparations, home schooling resources fixed, immunisations nearly done and yet still no tenants. And we can't go anywhere without them.....nail chewing, stessed brows and nothing we can do. bollocks.
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Learning to Blog

sitting in Forgandenny learning how to do all this stuff.....
thanks Claudia for all the help...

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