It’s 19.30 as I’m writing this and guess what – it’s raining again – merde! We’ve just eaten, yes home cooked again although we contemplated going to a restaurant today but I’ll come to that. Chris is currently lying on the floor stretching his back as we had hired a canoe for the afternoon and he may have overdone it slightly. But back to this morning. We headed out on the bikes at around 11.00, just to Beynac as we thought there might be a market – there wasn’t. On the way we went down to the Dordogne to check out a Canoe place that we’d picked up a leaflet from a couple of days previously but it was very much shut and deserted. We then cycled along the river for a bit though which was lovely and gave one of the best views of the castle yet. When we got to Beynac we parked the bikes, bought Chris a new sun hat (the old one definitely falling apart) and strolled around for a bit before having a drink next to the river and next to the canoe place which was advertising trips on the hour – the last one at 3pm. We thought we might go for that so it’s no longer in the midday sun. We waited till 12 for a woman to appear in the little office and enquired about the trip. She advised going at 2 rather than 3 as a storm was forecast. Yeah, right, not a cloud in the sky, les Francais sont foo n’est-ce pas?! And yes we could bring the dog so 2 it was. Having consulted various restaurant menus with special pacques offerings we thought we would come out in the evening and sample a little local cuisine but it wasn’t to be, as you already know.

So, back to the van it was, have a little snack and then pack a bag to take with us and we left just after 1 which meant there was time for a drink/ ice cream cone before we paid our €30 to get taken to Vitrac by minibus and then canoe down river – great! We set off around 14.30 and nearly capsized before we even got off the shore. And I have to confess it was entirely my fault. With Chris sitting in the front and me casting us off as I was wearing sandals that could get wet, I underestimated the unsteadiness of the boat, not helped by a restless dog… So, having taken on a litre of water, we did settle into a rhythm and down river we went – tres bien. I even came up with a little song en route, to the melody of “Champs Elyses”:

Oh, c’est tres joli, la la la,

oh, c’est tres joli

sur la Dordogne dans un canoe

mon cheri et notre chien

nous sommes heureux sans doubt

oh tres joli!

Happy we were, just until shortly after we had stopped for a quick leg stretching and change in driving positions, me now at the front, Chris at the back. We’d left a good hour ago and we could see the clouds behind us thickening and we also, rather worryingly, started to hear thunder. With more than half an hour to go – the inevitable happened: it started pi***ing it down. Having no option but to keep going, I wouldn’t say the rain was unpleasant – it was quite warm and, doing a bit of exercise, cooled you down but as we wanted to get back on land sooner rather than later we put a bit more effort into paddling than we would have done otherwise. And so it was with great relief that we landed at about 16.45. Being in the front I could step out onto dry land, Chris was somewhat stuck in the back and in the end lolloped out into the water which was about waist high. We had fairly dry jumpers in our rucksack which we donned and started walking back, not very pleasant through the rain and with wet trousers but we got here and were relieved to find that the van wasn’s soaked inside despite having left the top window open. Chris jumped in the shower in the van, I went to the shower block and so we were both wormed up and dry quite quickly. Nice cup of tea and feeling would start creeping back into the hands again. So gone were our plans for eating out tonight and out came the emergency rations: pomme de terre et saucissons! But beforehand a little starter in honour of Sabine and Reini (who I know will be reading this so Haaalllloooo!!!): Fromage du chevre on toast with honey which I prepared. I think I should do the washing up now as well and then it might be bedtime again soon. I’ll hand this over to Chris first to add his 2ha’pennies and then we’ll upload this. The plan is to move on tomorrow – we’ll keep you posted. Over and out.

 Bon Chance mes Peeps…

Before I make ANY comments regards our epic odyssey, I want to make one thing quite clear… if I ever ever say something stupid like “Gosh wouldn’t it be nice to have canoe” you have permission to kick me in the nuts ….if you can find the damn things, cos after the pissing, bloody rain, thunder and ending up doused in sub bloody freezing water to my waist, my pair of chums have gone into hibernation, they’re sulking somewhere in the region of my neck… you must then mutter something in your best Winstonion tones like:

 “The Dogdogne laddie, don’t you forget, NEVER never was so much chilled in such a short time”“

with that I will nod sagely and immediately change the subject to something civilised……

I will say only one thing more on the subject:

Canoeing is the work of the Devil incarnate and should be banned like all cursed, evil things, it is worse than smoking in public, true. Titbumwillyarse.. arghhhhhhhhh….. arghhhh … harumph… that good, I feel much better now…

No no no, not quite rant-over yet folks… I have just realised that our poor little defenceless gypsy has been hiding under the seat for the last hour, I am not sure if its the thunder and lightning or the terrors of being subjected to the inhuman insanity called CANOOing … she whimpers as the mere mention of it: traumatised, blighted, wee poor beastie, its a bloody good job there is no RSPCA in France, me thinks, eh?

Anyway, despite this life changing event, our stay here has been fantastic, chilled does not describe it adequately, but now the horizon beckons and tempts us to follow the clouds: we must be off to discover pastures new etc (getting quite poetic, eh ?)

So, unless we are bogged in, flooded out or the tea bags are damp or some other bloody disaster (its still thundering you know)… tomorrow its off to Perigneux and the beginning of the trek home….and still miss the bloody royal wedding, oui!!!

Bon sour Mes braves…

We are hundreds of miles away from home and yet the Easter bunny found us – much to our delight he had left some chocolate eggs on our table outside the van – how cute!!! No Easter without boiled eggs (not 10 per person as my family back in Germany used to allocate) but a modest one each, our last supplies – hard boiled for me (perfect actually, schoen schmalzig )) and soft boiled for Chris, we had a nice breakfast sitting outside but unfortunately Chris wasn’t feeling very well. He hadn’t slept properly and for the first time on this trip was feeling quite poorly – really exhausted and flu y and achy so he decided to have a day of rest while I did a few things to keep me occupied, apart from playing ball with the dog all day which she thought was great. I decided to venture out on the bike to Castelnaud which we saw the previous day on our way to la Rocque and which was only about 3 km away. I left just after noon and stayed away just over an hour in the end. The cycle ride was around 10 minutes and once I got there I decided the road to the castle was too steep so I sat down for an ice cream instead. I had set my heart on a nice big strawberry sundae and asked the waiter in my best french whether he had a coup de fraises (I hadn’t had enough time to study the carte) – he said 2 boules and I said yes which should have rung alarm bells. I then studies the carte and found it was a peche melbaou fraise but instead of exerting my new found assertiveness and re-ordering I let it go – and got 2 balls of strawberry sorbet – how disappointing. It was very nice strawberry sorbet and I kept telling myself it was a) cheaper and b) better for the figure but being deprived of those sorts of delicacies back in England and it being strawberry time at the moment, one ought to make the most of it – so I herby vow to have my “Erdbeerbecher” before we go back on Sunday.

I then bought some bread and stopped in a little delicatessen/wine shop on the way which would have been a perfect opportunity to nick things as when I entered and the bell rang nobody showed up. Having then selected a bottle of wine and some foie gras and waiting by the “caisse” to pay still nobody showed up. I checked for mirrors or a camera but couldn’t see anything so you’ll be pleased to know that the honest Eifler in me won the day and I went back outside to make the bell ring to which a woman then appeared who took my money. The foie gras is still sitting unopened in the fridge though, as we don’t have a tin opener…

So, we spent the afternoon lazing about, sunbathing, throwing the tennis ball for gypsy and generally very relaxed. We had an afternoon barbecue with meat we’d bought the day before and which was very nice still and in the evening I persuaded Chris to cycle down to Beynac for a drink so we had a pastis next to the river and watched swallows catching flies.

2 games of Rummiclub later we went to bed just after 9 and for once I read longer than Chris. My colleague John had lent us several books related to junk rig sailing, one of which is called Ming Ming and is a true account of one man’s voyages in a small 6-7m boat with a junk rig (like the chinese boats have). Apart from thinking you’ve got to be mad to want to spend weeks on board a tiny boat going through gales and storms etc. I have to say it’s quite well written with nice short chapters that even I can manage and I’m more than halfway through now (while Chris has read about 3 books in the same time). But then, like the author of MingMing, I have mastered the art of doing nothing. I take great delight in listening to the wildlife around us (heard a cuckoo this morning, saw a woodpecker) and enjoy not having a a plan for for every hour or even minute of the day. We don’t know what’s happening in the world although we tend to sneak in the odd headline here or there when we turn t’internet on and the homepage goes to BBC News. Otherwise we’re operating on the no news is good news principle. Anyway, enough philosophising – thus endeth Easter Sunday.

Rain – oh no!!! I haven’t really mentioned the weather much so far as it had been sunny every day but we woke up to rain tapping on our roof which put a question mark over our decision to take the bikes to Sarlat – 10km away. And as it was getting worse, we decided to take the van instead, which was just as well as it turned out to be quite hilly. The massive market presented us with a parking challenge but we were EXTREMELY lucky to find a FREE place after having driven around for about 10 minutes and apart from almost blocking the poor owners front door, this was a perfect spot, just parallel to one of the market streets. We left Gypsy in the van and off we went. At first in the rain but it was gradually getting lighter and it even stopped towards the end. A very nice market with all sorts of goodies: fruit & veg, meat, lots of Foi gras and nut and oil specialities from the Perigord region. We bought a thermometer for the van, a metal plate one, very nice, and, from a sausage stand, the offer of the day: ham and 4 sausages for €20. They are all now hanging up over the door in the van – very funny – like a mobile charcuterie We also bought celery, potatoes and chicken/duck legs and a punnet of strawberries which disappeared very quickly as an afternoon snack with a cup of tea and some Madeleine’s. It’s now 3 o’clock and we need to decide whether to venture out again for the afternoon or whether to stay here. We’ll decide over a cup of tea so a bientot.

Bonjour mon petit Garcons, c’est le Plombier ici… mais oui, mais oui… so, just to continue the Saga: we decided that showers or not (you know its that fine fine bloody rain, you know what I mean, like, fine rain that gets you soaked right through, you know what I mean, like, Gladys… in my best northern accent ?!… OK, its crap but please yourselves!!)

ANYWAY…… we unloaded the bikes and cycled over 120 km to La Roque der Glock…..weeeel, OK it was only 2.5 km but I got poorly legs innit….. after absorbing the stunning scenery (wonderful) I had a wee beer and Artie had a Prune wine ‘a pair of teeth’ thingie (sounds bloody awful, but very nice)… what I find very strange is that it is over 30 years since i first visited the place with the girls and its really quite a wonderful region… so, we biked back and I cooked us some “a la perigord” style chicken and duck legs simmered in a white wine sauce, celery, tomatoes with a smattering of chopped potatoes and few pasta shapes (a bit of a tart job, I know, but they help to hold and soak up the sauce?), garnished with fresh rosemary and shredded celery leaves (rosemary nicked on the way back!) and some local Perigord artisan bread and a wee cheeky 2005 Bergerac…. followed by noisette tarte… sur le pont d’avinyon or wot!!! so , its fast approaching “Rumiclub” time when (in my dreams) I will give Artie a damn good thrashing … but I have learned in my old age that to lose gracefully is a good thing (even if it aint no good for me blood pressure)… so its good night from me and ta-ta from the gang….

We left fairly early, around 9.30 to make sure we got to the campsite in good time, expecting it to be busy over easter. We needed to get some diesel on the way and, having spotted an Intermarche sign, we headed towards this, just a couple of hundred metres off route, and to our surprise found that the supermarket was also open so topping up of supplies was the first priority (and getting something for breakfast!). It being good Friday, we checked out the fish offering and were intrigued by fish sausages, 2 different varieties, one pale looking, one merguez style, reddish so we bought 4 of each. Pain au chocolat were to be our breakfast, and we got more wine, beer and water and some other bits n’ pieces. Then we topped up the van with Diesel an we were on our way. We got to the campsite just after one a clock and a very nice Dutchman, the owner of the site, pointed us towards the rear of the site with a view of the castle – spitze! We had a chat for about 10 minutes with him – his wife is French, they’ve had the site for just over 2 years, they have a nice black Riesenschnauzer dog and we could let Gypsy run just behind the site and there is also a pond where she can swim – marvellous! So, once we found our pitch I went for a little explore and let Gypsy try the pond – so everyone’s happy. The only thing missing from Chris’ happiness was the chance to try out the new Safari room he had acquired on, yes, you guessed it, ebay , but it was so windy that the awning nearly took off so we had to give that up as a bad idea but I think he’s got over it by now…

Having set up table and chairs outside and had a little snack, we decided to trek up to Beynac Castle which we could see out the back window of the van and only about 1km away. A nice route through a bit of forest at the back of the campsite was a lovely start the route remained very quiet until we hit the bottom bit of Beynac but even then we were surprised how relatively quiet it was. The “climb” to the castle was quite steep and exhausting but we made it and the sorbet in the brasserie at the top tasted even better after all that effort. We went to a “point vue” to take some pictures of the valley below and the castle but gave the castle itself a miss, at €7.50 each too much for our “clamped out” budget. Instead we picked up some brochures on canoeing at the tourist information office and sat down for a drink next to the river. I should stress that it was still extremely windy but also sunny and warm and when we got back to the van, we’d been gone just over 2 hours which seems to be our usual “time away” slot. I tried out the swimming pool a bit later, which was VERY cold and then we sat down outside for the evening with our fish sausages. And, quite honestly, I was disappointed! I hardly ate any of it, they were too salty and just not very nice so Gypsy did okay that night… Potatoes and salad were enough though and it was nice to be sitting outside, even though we had jackets on to keep the wind out.

The evening finished with 2 games of Rummikub and an early night, reading in bed till just after 10 when it was lights out and good night.

We decided to walk into town and take Gypsy with us and it wasn’t too bad at all, a pleasant 30-minute stroll. When we got to the outskirts of villeneuve, an impressive looking town gate took us into little streets with olde worlde houses, very nice, and when Chris spotted another Carrfeour Cite, he went shopping while I had a coffee in a little bar sitting outside – perfect division of labour Well, I was looking after the dog as well, you understand!

Anyway, it was getting close to lunchtime and so we spent about 20 minutes wandering around and assessing potential eateries before we settled on one that was busy with french people. We both had the plat du jour which was faux filet, whatever that was, but it was nice and we had a bottle of rose with it – when in France… we were inspired by the 3 French businessmen next to us who were drinking wine with their meal. It got us contemplating about the different approaches to the lunch hour between France and England where breaking for lunch in England is almost frowned upon and a sandwich at your desk will have to do, compared to those 3 polishing off a 3-course meal and a bottle of wine for lunch – how civilised. We then trundled back to the campsite and had a bit of a siesta, Chris in the van, me outside sunbathing. We then looked at potential campsites in the dordogne where we could stay for a few nights over easter and found an ACSI site that ticked several boxes: fairly central (1 km from Beynac, 10 km from Sarlat and Domme) and also near the river Dordogne – that was it – selected. 50 km away – a good hour’s drive. Nothing more to report from Villeneuve – the site was basic but actually quite nice – very quiet, and only cost €12 a night.

Today would be a long drive, 200 km, for which we allowed 4 hours so we set off early without any breakfast at 9.30. Tom Tom took us to Mt de Marsan, which was almost exactly half way. We thought we might stop if the opportunity arose but hadn’t planned for it. As it happened we did stop as we needed money but my card is not working, probably because I didn’t tell my bank we were going and it is trying to protect me. Never mind, Chris’ worked so coffers replenished we had a little wander through what turned out to be a very pleasant little town with a nice castle and a river running through it. Having got more bread and some stuff from a Carrefour City, like Tesco metro, we had a little picnic in the van before tackling the second half which saw me driving for the first time on this trip. I came up with a, even if I say so myself, ingenious solution to the problem of my foot being too small to control the accelerator comfortably which consisted of one of our fiamma wheel ramps getting a new use as a foot rest – perfect! The destination was a place listed in our France Passion book of free places at farms, vineyards etc. which we wanted to try out and as a musee de pruneaux sounded intriguing but when we got there it was just off the main road in the middle of nowhere so we swapped drivers again and decided to try our luck at Villeneuve-sur-lot, only another 30 minutes away. And that’s where we are now, on a camping municipal site a couple of kilometers outside the town but it’s a pleasant site and so we booked for 2 nights to give us a chance to explore the town a bit tomorrow, either by bike or on foot – we’ll see. So that’s it from me for today – bonne nuit.

Hi yer… La Belle France…. hmmmmmm…. Im getting my lingo back: “Bon Jour mon garcon, c’est sur le pont de mange toute.. et je’suis un Chauffager et un tip-top plombier oui!!, et, ma petite poisson et fritte..n Mac-donald’s pour moi silver-plat”…brilliant eh?… I can hear you say…spoken like a real local eh eh eh ??

Anyway, after Pied de Port (fantastic place to visit and well worth the trek over the Pair-of -Knees) it was a couple of trying days drive wise, and, in hind sight, going to Bayonne to me was a bit of a waste of time…albeit Ati’s “T’Surfs up cock: go for it”…or could it be “come on chaps, a damn good way to drown one’s self yarp yarp…”… all very funky and groovy ‘n all that but nothin special for me …

Grand-dad driving update: the road from Bayonne to the Lot was as straight as a die and it was very very exciting cos I got up to over 70 MPH yesyesyes andandand (wait for it) I even overtook lorries and stuff (wow eh)… all that barracking I got for going 15MPH hmmmm… we were at Villeneuve a few years back, boating along the Lot and canals: great place… and we are now an easy drive from anywhere in the Door-doyio-ing (whatever?) which seems like a home away from home (brilliant area)… so a day of feet up and maybe get the bikes out … chill-time! So Bonee new-wheat from me too…

 Having paid for our parking till 4 pm (all of €5.50) we wanted to make the most of this opportunity and as our next destination, “Luz” was only just over an hour away, we set off at about 11.30 and started the ascend to the citadel. But first of all we stocked up our supplies in the Carrefour next door which was a welcome opportunity.

Gypsy came along too so we had a little walk around there which was very pleasant and then headed down town again to explore the little roads with nice small shops, selling Basque linen (very colourful – great!), Berres, local specialities like Basque cake and also dried red pimentos (strings of) which Chris purchased one from a Butcher’s shop. We also found access to the river Nive so Gypsy could have a little swim as it was getting quite hot around lunchtime. So we found a nice restaurant and settled down for a very nice meal consisting of a ham and pate/ham and tomato/pepper puree starter, chicken/trout and Basque cake which I’d read about as one of the specialities. It was really nice, a biscuit y base and crunchy top and a kind of eggy slightly liquid filling – lovely. Another swim for Gypsy and back to the van it was.

I think we left around 3 in the end and apart from one strange tom tom D-tour made it to St Jean de Luz at around 4.30. The plan was to look for an aire de camping but soon the busy roads made this quite a stressful venture and with neither aire nor campsite in the town, we got tom tom to take us to the nearest one outside town, about 3 km away. But not having the exact address and again not picking up any signs for it, we got our secret weapon out: the ADAC (German) Stellplatzfuehrer, listing aires for campervans and it had one just south of Biarritz in a place called Anglet. And that’s where I’m sitting now, surrounded by other campervanners in quite a restricted site, but only about 500m from the beach – wow, the Atlantic on our doorstep. So, once parked up we took Gypsy down to the beach, on which she wasn’t allowed so we stayed on the promenade, and went down some concrete pathway with waves coming across from either side where she managed to have a quick swim. Once back in the van, Chris decided to put his feet up and I put my bikini on and went down to the beach again. Ooh, cold at first, it took several attempts with just feet in to get acclimatised but once used to it it was nice and refreshing. I walked back to the concrete pontoon type thing and stood next to the rocks, this time the water coming up to my knees. Having now got used to it, I thought I’d brave the deeper water but there was a kind of sandbank a bit further out again which made the waves brake and I thought they wouldn’t therefor be as powerful – wrong! The next wave washed my feet away and dragged me towards the beach for a good 10 meters – I was now fully drenched! So while you couldn’t really say I swam in the atlantic perhaps we’d call it I was washed up by the Atlantic. In younger years I would ran towards these “Krachmannswellen” but Chris not being there and the beach not being supervised I thought it would be stupid to venture out on my own so I left it with one more attempt to go a bit further out but hitting a painful shingly bit underfoot so I then gave up and contented myself with walking along the water.

I needed to have a shower when I got back to wash the gravel out of my bikini – seemed I wasn’t just washed up, I was also stonewashed

Chris didn’t feel like cooking so we just had our usual nibbles: bread, olives, sausage, cheese and a punnet of strawberries for afters – tres bon!

Having followed tom tom into the city centre, we managed to find a great little parking spot just by the side of the road and as no signs were visible asking you to pay we assumed it was free – how wrong we were…
Anyway, having no map or anything (next time we must remember to take tom tom!) we left gypsy guarding the van and headed for what looked like the city centre. We soon picked up the sign for the Tourist Information office, walked past it once, walked back again, found it, found out it had moved to a different location so almost gave up but low and behold there was a temporary office in a town square so we got ourselves a map with explanations in Spanish (not very helpful!) and just wandered round for a couple of hours to get a feel for the place, with the highlight of buying provisions in an indoor market: 2 more chorizos (picante – with the red string rather than the white string which is natural, so we learnt!) 6 slices of ham, half a dozen eggs and asparagus – a feast would await us again tonight! After a quick cafe solo we walked back to the van, walked around the adjacent mini park with gypsy for 5 minutes, packed our stuff away, chris made a cup of tea and we were just about to drive off when a woman knocked on the window, pointing at the hub-cab on my passengers side. When I opened the door and looked… yes, you got it, they had clamped us!!! So, with only a phone number to call and obviously no spanish to explain the situation, we were going to ask a friendly looking woman opposite from us to phone on our behalf but then 2 parking attendant women came along and, surprisingly, they didn’t speak much English but we got the gist of what we had to do: go to the police, pay the dosh and get released – they walked us more or less there pointed us in the right direction and off we went. €112 later, we were free to go and one experience richer….

Ey’ oop muchachas… its Chris again (Artie is doing the washing up and “powdering her nose” (why having a pee is called that I don’t know but someone will enlighten me one day)..

So, van now free from T’El’Clampo we decided to depart dear old L’Espanol as soon as possible… there appears to be a tom-tom time warp around Pampers: round and round but still in bloody pampers (hey its better than LSD man?) .. but, anyway, after several near misses we were finally on the Pilgrims road up and over the Pear-n-Knees (get it?) towards La Belle France… its about 58 KM of hairpin bends to about 5 million mrs high (whatever etc etc) to St Jean-Pied de-Port but as there was virtually no traffic I plodded along like the old grandpa (which I am hmmm) and it was superb gob smacking scenery albeit Artie and Gypsy were snoring (almost) we arrived… hoorah… and I was informed that I averaged 15 MPH tops (sod it I am on holiday?!!)… when you see the many mushes plodding along walking their pilgrimage (no joke) the van has many many attractions… if nothing but having a good old cup of tea or a pee-pee when you fancy…. and slightly faster than walking: yeah OK hmmmm…

The difference between Spain and France is unbelievable: Spain has virtually no facilities, whereas within 5 KM of the border we are now glutted with where to stay, restaurants, bars etc etc …. c’est civilisation n’est-ce pas?….

so parked in an air-de-camp about 200 mr from Carrefoure and about 1 km from the town…and a big session of sun-shine (about 20-25C), a fresh breeze, cool music from the Ipodge, fresh crunchy baguette, fresh olives, cheese, asparagus, some boiled farm eggs, ham and a just wee splosh of wine what more can you ask for? Oh yeah: walk the dog…. till next time Ow’re’voyer garcons n all that…

Having taking advantage of the free wifi in our last campsite, there is nothing else noteworthy about the stop and we left around 10.30 on Sunday, to visit Puenta La Reina, which was only about 10 minutes away. A famous bridge and a couple of churches were the main attraction of the town, so walked over and took several photos of the bridge from several angles, visited one of the churches with a famous y-shaped carved crucifix and then sat down for a coffee and an agua con gas in a little bar next to the main road. It being palm sunday, lots of people walked past with their very substantial palm twigs, one had a man size whole leaf of a palm tree – which I thought was somehow over the top but there you go…

Eventful things to report from sitting down for a coffee was that the sun umbrella blew over and one of the spikey bits landed right in the middle of Chris’ coffee and splattered him a bit but no major damage was done so that was ok. I then braved ordering tapas again and as the olives on the neighboouring table looked nice I went for olives and tortilla, and, having got what I ordered, was very pleased with myself.. Now, the olives were green, with stones, and were some of the best olives we had ever tasted. There was a hint of roasted garlic in the brine which gave them a lovely taste and there was none of the bitterness that sometimes accompanies olives. So, after lunch we travelled less than an hour to our next stop, camping Ezcaba, 8 km from Pamplona. We hadn’t bought any more provisions so when we saw they had a restaurant we thought we’d eat there for the night as Pamplona was too far to go and it was nice not having to go anywhere. So a lazy afternoon followed, with a bit of sunbathing, reading, games, ice cream and then dinner at 7 pm. Well, I say dinner, the menu del dia consisted of a selection of 4 starters 4 mains followed by a dessert and included wine, all for €20 per person. It started well with fish soup for Chris and grilled veg for me and for mains we had ordered one lamb one veal. The problem started when we couldn’t tell what was what, the chips that came with it were underdone and just soggy in oil and there was a strange smell coming from the meat. Still, we persevered and our omnipresent doggy-bag was getting fuller by the minute – gypsy would have a nice surprise later. Pudding was ok and we had a coffee to finish it off and then went back to the van with much trepidation about how our guts would cope with such treatment. But, I’m pleased to report, no accidents were had and so by the time the alarm went off at 7 am the next morning all was forgotten but not forgiven, in Chris’ case, though!).

We wanted to have a look round pamplona the next day hence the early start and we made it there for 10 am, which was a good time.

We hit the road at 10 and headed for Laguardia, only about 30 km away. When we arrived the car park just below the town was empty so we just parked up in one of the bays without any consideration about how to get out again. This would prove an important lesson for the future as when we came back it was full and we would have struggled to manoeuvre our way out of there. Luck would have it the car next to us left just after we had started our monoeuvre and so we could just swing out – easy. Anyway, Laguardia was a little gem. A small town with three main roads running parallel, it has 2 churches, one of which, Santa Maria de los Reyes, has a very famous and spectacular portal from the 14^th century. When we first went up to the church and read it would cost €2 entrance we weren’t going to bother, but having frequented the Tourist information office, and being told about it, we did end up taking a tour at 1.30 and didn’t regret it, even though it was all in Spanish.

The other thing that was recommended was the town hall clock which chimed at 12 and showed a display of local dance and then we took an English-speaking tour of one of the many cellars in the town that are used for wine making and storing. How cool was that!!! Fascinating to learn that practically every house in this town has one of these caves. There was only us plus a German couple taking the tour and we learned that most of the Rioja wine is made from the Tempranillo grape variety and that there are 4 types of describing the ageing process of the wine: joven – young, crianza: a minimum of 2 years stored, reserva, about 5-6 years and gran reserva which is over 6 years. They have massive “tanks” in these caves to store the wine and that’s what we had a little taste of to give us the difference to bottled wine. Slighly acidic on the palate but not bad but certainly better when stored in bottles and becoming more rounded. We bought a wooden box with 3 bottles of Reserva – see how long they last…

It’s now 20.05 on Saturday evening, we’ve had pork chops with rice for dinner, taken the dog for a final stroll around the quite spacious campsite where she managed to have a little swim in the river and it’s starting to get chilly so time to come in. Having said that, today is the first really warm day so the shorts have come out – just great! In the bar area they offer free wifi so we’ll probably trundle over there again later on and get this uploaded – saving our dongle allowance. Interesting to see how many people take advantage of this – everyone has got a laptop/notebook/netbook. The plan for tomorrow is to head towards Pamplona, via Punta de Reina, a famous bridge. Will report more then. So long, buenas noches!

 Bonny-day-horse and astra-lar-vesta innit peeps… yes, its me the typical English Pompey ‘oick abroad, got the lingo; “Dos Sher-ves-os pour-for-voir innit Garcon-moosh !!!” (usually shouted?!) what else do you need to know, eh? .. Regards the Rioja Cellars in Laguardia : absolutely crazy, a small hill top town but over 200 bogetas/cellars: but making the stuff is bizarre, the traditional method is to bung the whole grapes into a pit, after initial fermentation (8 days) they are then crushed with much foot work (not sure if washing the feet is part of the process, but its all good fun), the grapes are then pressed and poured into another pit in the ground, in the cellar, to brew for a year… amazing: the pits are made from the living rock and the whole area surrounded with dust, cobwebs and God knows what else… compared to German/English brewing its ‘nicht sauber und ungemutlisch’ but the result is outstanding…

We also (or should I say Ati) braved ordering some tapas, this involved much pointing, no idea what they were or the cost, but they are a real work of art and in this case very cheap, but I think the experience could be expensive if you got carried away, but hey ho eh?… anyway with Arti doin’ the dishes and dog snoring I will also wish you a Bonny-Nachos too ….