19 January

Not Tuesday – But it is Belgium

You probably have to be older than 40 to understand the above reference. It pertains to a classic 60s movie about group travel in Europe.

It's actually Monday, but tomorrow we will spend a whole day in Belgium. As the theme of the old movie runs, for us, this will probably be the longest time we have spent here in over 20 years! Let's see what it brings?

Today we made the classic Aussie pilgrimage to Villers-Bretonneux. Not an attractive day weather wise, but one that touched every jingoistic nerve in our bodies. The Mairie, (City Hall) has kangaroos and emus on the doors; the local school was built after the First War with funds from Victorian children and the brothers and sisters of the the troops who had died in France. In the play ground is a banner reading – “Never Forget the Australians.”

Outside this village, liberated by Australian troops in 1918, is the Australian War Memorial, a large and fitting tribute to the tens of thousands of Australians who lie on French and Belgium soil and. particularly, to the 11,000 young men for whom there is no known grave.

18 January

Benoit et Nicole and “Uncle Willie”

Merci beaucoup a Benoit, le frere de mon oncle Pierre, et sa femme Nicole!

On the way to visit Benoit and Nicole yesterday, we stopped off for just 'one last cathedral' – Rouen.
Again, we were enthralled by, not only the cathedral but also the town itself. It was here that Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. Today, a fish market shares the square with the shrine to Saint Joan. How nouveau French!
But the highlight of the last couple of days was the 'Grand Tour' that Benoit gave us of his village and, the next morning, of the small city of Laon, just a few klms from his village. Laon was a significant fortified city in the middle ages, with (yes, another!) large cathedral. The cathedral punched well above its weight for a small city like Laon. It is, in fact, the second oldest cathedral in France. But what was more interesting for us was all the local knowledge Benoit had about the town and the other out of the way places he took us to.

We topped off the morning tour with a magnificent lunch. Merci Benoit et Nicole!

By mid afternoon we had managed to squeeze the campervan back out through the stone archway of Benoit's courtyard and were on our way to find the grave of 'Great Uncle Willie who died in the war'.

William John Armstrong was the great uncle of Janita, the brother of her grand-father. He was killed in action at Mont St Quentin on 31 August 1918, just one day before the AIF effectively dis-engaged from the First World War. Thanks to the National Archives in Canberra, we had William's full military records, including his burial place and grave reference number.

On a beautiful mild sunny afternoon, just over 90 years after his death, his family finally found their 'Uncle Willie who died in the war'. Armed with two small Australian flags and sprigs of eucalyptus, (brought all the way from Morocco!) his great niece found him among the more than 500 graves of him and his mates, who have shared this quiet spot in the Communal Cemetery Extension in the small town of Peronne for almost a century. It was a tearful reunion.

At 'the going down of the sun' we revisited the Second Division AIF memorial on the Ave Des Australiens on the outskirts of Peronne. We had come upon it by accident in 2001 and this chance discovery had started the quest for information about Uncle Willie.

Tomorrow, we will visit the largest of the memorials to the Australians who died in France, the Australian War Memorial at Villers Bretonneux. It is built on Australian territory in the midst of Europe, ceded by France in gratitude for the sacrifice of the more than 50,000 Australians who lie in over 2000 French and Belgian cemeteries like the one where Uncle Willie rests.

16 January

Early reflections

Yesterday wasn't as cold as expected. The morning was clear but relatively warm. As we drove closer to the coast, it got even warmer and the weak winter sun even had some warmth to share.

Our plan had been to drive on to northern France to visit the battle fields of the Somme but, as usual, we had a few days to spare, so we headed to the beaches of Normandy. The tourist focus here is, of course, the D-Day Invasion. Yes, we did some of that, but the small towns and villages of Normandy (those that survived the war) are just beautiful. Half-timbered house, in excellent repair, grace many of the small towns and villages.

Who can ever remember the names of every small town or village that has interested us for one reason or another? And why try? Surely it is the experiences that make a journey like this worthwhile?

So ... to some early reflections.

Of the three legs of our five month trip, the van trip was always going to be the most challenging and exciting. And so it was! It's a bit like running a distance race. You train and prepare for months and look forward to the day. Then, at some point, you wish you had just stayed home in bed! At the finish though, all the negatives evaporate and the exhilaration of finishing overwhelms all.

Close to the finish line, we do feel satisfied with what we have managed. No animals or children have died, except for a couple of slow birds; traffic in most of Europe has not been brought to a halt; we are both fit and well and the van is in one piece (mostly!). Mind you, there are a few Italian villages that will take months to recover from our visit! On top of this, we have had some great experiences, (read rest of blog), been places we have never been before, seen things we will never forget – just to mention a few; the Medinas of Marrakesh and Fes in Morocco, Norwegian Fjords, the back streets of Palermo on market day, Granada in Spain and remnants of 3000 years old civilizations on Sardinia. Oh yes, and the worst hail storm we have ever driven through in Genoa!

14 January

One last cathedral??

Can you ever see too many cathedrals? Absolutely! But...

Who could drive past Chartres and not have a look at its famous cathedral? It rises from the open fields and can be seen five or six klms from town. This part of France is fairly flat, open country that would probably have looked good, even with the bareness of winter upon it. Today we couldn't tell. It was foggy most of the day, but as the early afternoon approached, the sky lifted.

While Chartres Cathedral was well worth the stop, the small city of Chartres itself was an unexpected bonus. Half timbered houses and narrow medieval streets compete with a mill stream.

Over a thousand years ago, some local noble returned from the Holy Land with the Virgin Mary's Veil (or a bit of it!) The year was 876 and there was already a ruined cathedral on the current site. The faithful rallied and somehow, like good simple folk in hundreds of towns and cities all over Europe, managed to build a structure to house the Holy Relic. It stood for five hundred years before fire destroyed it. Undaunted, they started again and with their bare hands and very simple machines, they built the current enormous structure that has stood for more than 800 years and looks as good as the day it was consecrated. Two world wars last century left it unscratched, although some nasty Germans bombed the city gate just 100 metres from the Cathedral!

What drove them - all of them - the many thousands who designed and built these incredible places all over Europe? Faith, superstition, lust for power or fear? Whatever it was, when aggregated, the great Cathedrals of Europe far eclipse the pyramids and any other ancient constructions on the planet.

As an extra bonus, we were also rewarded in our search for 'bits' of the saints. Chartres Cathedral also displays the bones (or some of them) of Saint Piat, a local lad made good!

The afternoon has cleared to a beautiful clear night, stars aplenty and visibility almost unlimited. Sounds great, but we know what this will mean tomorrow morning - temperatures well below freezing. The cold is already coming up through the floor!

13 January

Every day has something

After almost 4 months of writing these blogs, we wonder sometimes if there is anything new to say.
But, yes, there is. Not a lot today, mind you, but there is always something different and interesting when you are travelling - like the ruins of old Poitiers. On a whim, we followed a highway sign off N10 today to its ruins.

The things you know nothing about are sometimes the most interesting. Not on the wow scale like a 12th Century Cathedral, or a walled medieval town, but interesting for the fact that you are probably the only people in months to bother to roll on up the country road to a little visited site. All the more fun in the snow with narrow roads just visible through a carpet of white. At the back of a small village, well off the tourist path, we found “Old Poitiers”. Among the ruins of a Roman town that once had a population of 10000 people, there was the remnants of a Roman theatre and some houses. Not much, but it was all ours and we had gone to the trouble to find it.

We also found the Chateau of Chenonceau and the house in Amboise where Leonardo Da Vinci spent his last years and the room in which he died. But lots of other people found these as well.

12 January

France's Route 66

After we crossed the Spanish-French frontier yesterday, we drove mostly on French National Route 10. (N10). National Routes in Europe are the poor travellers' Motorways because they are toll free. In Portugal, Spain and France, they are often dual carriage roads that are of motorway standard. The only difference is that every now and then they don't by-pass towns, so you hit some traffic, as we did this morning getting through Bordeaux. Slow, but still an interesting drive through the inner 'burbs.

At a bit of a loss as to what to do for the next week or so in France, we decided to do a practice run for our planned trip in August/September down Route 66 in the USA between LA and Chicago. N10 is not anything like the scale of Route 66, but what it does offer in common is a slice of the 'heartland' of France, passing through Bordeaux, Poitiers, Tours, Chartres and Versailles. What we plan is to stick as close to the N10 as we can, all the way to its end at the Paris ring road; the Peripherique (the 'Horrorpherique' as we call it!) and, on the way, potter about in small towns and villages.

Today was mostly driving and the usual shopping. France is great for shopping! Hypermarkets are on almost every corner, even in rural France. We did divert from the N10 to the small village of Brux south of Poitiers, because we saw a highway sign indicating that it had an XI Century Church. As it turned out, an “I” had fallen off the highway sign and it was, in fact, a XII Century Church. Never mind, it was a nice little village and the church was interesting as it was in a fairly original state.

Continuing our theme, we sought out another small village to camp in tonight. Nieuil l'Espoir is not even on our map. We found it while searching for a free Aire de Service to spend the night. It doesn't have a XII C church, but it is a good example of what is left of rural villages in France. There is a butcher, baker, pharmacy, small supermarket and a bar. The centre of the village has one grand house (in fair repair) that was probably the local manor house. Around it, there is a cluster of old houses and ex-shops. On the outskirts are the new estates of late 20C and early 21C. Not many, but a sign of the changes to come.

10 January

How to drive in the snow

It might seem like a silly subject but, as what we mostly did today was drive in the snow, it may be appropriate. And it will be something to remember for next time.

Coming from the sub-tropics as we do, driving in severe winter conditions is not our forte. Having said this, we have done a lot of driving in winter in Europe, the US and New Zealand. So we know enough to be absolutely sure that we are novices!

Snow is frozen water. Yes, we know – obvious. Sometimes it can build up to the point that a vehicle can't push through it. In heavy snow, it accumulates on the windscreen and freezes the wipers. Other times, it turns to slush and freezes on the road surface. Always, it is tricky for the uninitiated.

What we have learned was put to good use today. We awoke to even more snow than we had last night, when we had decided it was too dangerous to continue. The windscreen was frozen on the inside as well as the outside; it was -1C inside the van and the gas heater wouldn't light because the chimney was covered with snow. Disaster you might think. No, not just then. Later, when the window to the small bathroom in the van cracked off in the cold, potentially leaving a metre square opening - that was disaster!

Short of some minor cuts and abrasions and a lot of bad language, all was well. The window was finally closed up – not fixed, but at least sealed - leaving most of the snow on the outside!. The engine finally started after a few sad, hard churns, and we were off.

Back to the fact that snow is water. Freezing point for water in any state is 0C, a fact that should never be forgotten when driving in severe winter conditions. What might look like a nice smooth, recently snow-ploughed stretch of road, could in fact be the dreaded 'black ice' - re-frozen snow slush that is almost invisible against the black of the road surface. We have seen enough of the results of black ice, to be overly cautious of it. Today we passed several victims of this phenomena in ditches beside the highway. At one place there were four in a row, all half tipped over, off the side of the road. Steep gradients like on and off ramps are particularly dangerous. Even the usually speedy Spanish drivers show a great deal of respect for icy roads.

The cold weather has had some minor impact on us aside from the driving difficulties. Our grey water tank has been frozen for a couple of days and it has been very cold getting up and dressed in the mornings. On the positive side, we have no worries getting the beer cold. It doesn't even get to the fridge now, but goes straight from the locker under the van to the table!

From here on, our trip is mostly driving until we get to Peronne on the Somme, where we will visit Janita's Great-Uncle's war grave. We'll try to stay close to the coast of France and so avoid the worst of the winter. We might even find the odd nice little village to visit?

But please – no more cathedrals!

9 January

Snowed in

Snow is a wonderful thing. It looks very cool on pine trees. High mountains look great when snow-capped, snowmen are just the thing for a winter front lawn. But try driving in it! It floats towards you in an almost mesmerizing stream of flakes. Roads become slippery. drivers even more unpredictable and the windscreen starts to freeze over.

As predicted, it was very cold this morning in Salamanca, down to -6C. Very light snow could be seen in the morning sunlight as we drove off towards Avila and Segovia. Avila was just as we remembered from our last visit. Spectacular battlements surround the old town centre, just as old European towns should be. The light sprinkle of morning snow added to the scene. We had a long day ahead and the weather wasn't helping. As we approached Segovia, the snow increased. We managed a walk through the town with its Roman aqueduct and beautiful cathedral just as the snow started to pelt down. We took off for our planned camp site about 100kms away about 3:30pm. As usual, we got lost leaving town and by the time we had driven all the way back into town to try to start over again, the roads were white. Even the heavy traffic on the major highways wasn't enough to clear them and it was getting more and more difficult to drive. Not too far out of Segovia, we spotted a carpark in a small village and here we are for the night. The snow has stopped now and it is getting a little warmer. -3C perhaps? The trusty gas heater has it up to 17C inside at the moment, but we'll have to turn it off when we go to bed to conserve gas.

8 January

Feels like winter

What else could we expect in early January? - It finally got cold! After a couple of very mild days in Portugal, it suddenly turned winter on us! Just a few days ago, we were wandering about in T-shirts.

From Lisbon, we have come north to Salamanca in Spain. Coming north and inland was probably not the best call this time of the year! Never mind; on the way, we were rewarded by the beautiful little Portuguese town of Obidos. A gift from Dom Dinis (whoever he might be!) to his wife, the walled town today is a time capsule. No satellite dishes here! Not even TV antennas - indeed there was hardly a soul on the streets this bright and clear, but crisp afternoon.
Instead, from the city walls, which we almost circumnavigated, only stopped by a gate 150m from where we'd begun, we marvelled at twisting, cobbled streets with picture-perfect white houses. Mind you, we did that clinging to the ramparts! Workplace Health and Safety hasn't invaded Portugal yet. At the start of the scramble to the top of the walls, there is a reminder to watch your step – and your children - timely, as the walls are about a metre wide and there are only a couple of (short) barriers to stop you falling many metres down onto those cobbled (read – hard) streets. This proved a bit tricky a couple of times as we came across people going the wrong way, but all good – we are still fairly agile for a couple of old farts!

We spent the night in the carpark just outside the walls. While it boasted the facilities of toilet and waste water dumping, as well as water refill, there was no power, so we were exposed to the sudden onslaught of winter. It was -1C inside the van when we got up to put the little gas heater on. It struggled to pull the temperature inside up to 4C in time for breakfast.

We did some hard driving today to get to Salamanca, only to find that it was winter here as well! -3C the sign said as we drove into town at 4:00pm. After a brief internet session in the foyer of the hotel we are camped behind, we understand we can expect -6C tomorrow with a chance of snow. Cold, but tonight we have power and our electric fan heater is belting out a constant 20C inside.