Up until now, trips in our motorhome have mostly been within the UK, or when we have ventured abroad we’ve not strayed far from the coast we sailed to. However, in August 2023 we took out motorhome on a jaunt which took in seven countries and lasted almost a month.
The objectives of the trip were:
To attend our nephew’s wedding in Austria
To catch up with my husband’s school friend who lives in Luxembourg, who we’ve been trying to visit since 2020
To have an epic adventure.
England
The first leg of the trip was getting from our home in Somerset to Dover in order to catch the ferry.
It was an early morning sailing so we spent the night at Lenacre Farm, near Dover. It’s a working farm with a sideline running a campsite. Not much in the way of facilities, not even a loo, but on this occasion proximity to the ferry trumped avoiding having to empty the toilet cartridge. Also unusual in that we paid actual cash for the pitch.
The owner, Mrs P., told us that the Indian restaurant nearby was quite good but the pub had gone downhill in recent years. We fancied a curry as it happened and so went to the Indian place, which was extremely good.
Up early to catch the 6.55 ferry. Got picked on by security for a spot check. Asked if we had any flammable things on board (only the Calor gas) and any knives (only for cooking, but it turned out they were only interested in flick knives really). The woman, who was actually quite friendly, simply shone a torch around the cabin and let us go.
Ahead of us in the queue was a rather unusual vehicle. It was a black pickup truck converted into a camper by means of a black box on top. It had a round window and reminded me strongly of the Creepy Coupe from Wacky races. After we boarded, we didn’t see it again.
We’d booked the Club Lounge given that it was early August and therefore peak travel time. You get free food and unlimited coffee as well as it being much quieter than the main decks. My only “complaint” was that the scrambled eggs didn’t taste much like eggs. There were supposedly storm force winds according to the Captain but thanks to the stabilisers we only felt a gentle sway.
France
No checks, not even of passports as we got off. I’d feared the box of wine we had in our fridge for the nights we ate in would get confiscated because of Brex-shit but nobody even looked.
Belgium
Didn’t linger in Belgium all that long, just drove through it en route to Luxembourg. We did stop at the service station by the name of Aire Spy. A bit of a shock to the system because in Belgium, service stations make you pay to use the loo. While you do get a voucher which deducts the cost of a pee from any food you subsequently buy, it was a hassle because a) I didn’t have the right change and b) even though you could pay by debit card, my card wouldn’t work and so my husband had to let me in with his card when he came out. Feared my card might have been cancelled because scammers have been known to use toilets in Belgian service stations, but it was fine next time I used it. Either their machine was flaky or I needed to enter a PIN so Lloyd’s Bank knew I’d actually gone abroad with the card.
On the plus side, the poulet kebab wrap I had was very nice.
Luxembourg:
Thursday
Opposite us there are a couple of motorhomes with classic cars on trailers – look like they might be on their way to a rally. A fellow camper from Wales pointed out that they were actually amphibious vehicles which could turn into boats when on water.
The site has a small brasserie which serves pasta, Weiner schnitzel, steak and pizzas. Menu mostly in German so we made use of Google translate. Friendly staff, good food.
A great thing about Luxembourg is that all public transport is free: all buses, trams and even trains. There was a bus stop close to the site so getting into the city was a breeze.
The city is picturesque and seems to be on several levels. We acquired a walking map and set off to explore. We took in the city walls, cathedral, war memorials. Walked down to the lower level and got the scenic elevator back up.
The restaurant where
we had lunch (The Boucherie) had a menu in French. In Luxembourg, it
seems, some place speak mostly French, others mostly German. English
is widely spoken as well and there’s Luxembourgish, but not sure we
heard anyone speaking it.
We visited the roof garden of Galleries Lafayette, then got the bus back. Luckily the stop we wanted was actually called Camping Kockelsheuer so we knew when to get off!
 |
| Luxembourg City |
We seem to have brought the bad weather with us from England, although the rain held off while our friends were with us, a good thing as health issues meant they can’t currently socialise indoors.
At the restaurant that night, we were seated next to a couple from Liverpool who told us they’d not seen the sun for two weeks.
Saturday
Returned to Galleries Lafayette as husband needed a smart shirt for the wedding. He tried several which were apparently his size, but none of them fit. Eventually worked out, with the help of the French speaking shop assistant, that the magic words we were looking for on the label was “confort fit”, which is polite French for “to fit a fat person”.
Shirt purchased, loyalty card acquired so he could get 50% off, and then we went for a coffee.
After that we took a tram to meet our friend for lunch. The trams play little tunes to announce the stops.
We ate at a tapas place and trusted the waiter just to bing us out the best selection, which turned out to be: squid and ham in breadcrumbs; peppers; octopus; potatoes in mayonnaise and paprika sauce; egg plant with honey. And two bottle of wine. Nice view from the terrace and you can see where our friends lived when they first moved here, although the house they lived in has been demolished since.
Sunday
It’s a common thing at camp sites in Europe, to be able to order bread for pick up the following
morning, although sometimes you may not know exactly what you are ordering. Arthur ordered bread last night and was extremely disappointed to discover that he’d ordered a single bap when he’d intended to order a loaf.
The weather was miserable today so we didn’t go far, although we took a walk in the immediate vicinity of the site just to say we’d done something. There’s a sports centre and a golf course, which was littered with hundreds of golf balls which nobody ever seems to pick up.
Monday
Our neighbours on the site seemed to spend most of yesterday tinkering with the engine of their camper. Turned out they had broken down and when we were ready to leave we found ourselves blocked in by the recovery truck. Arthur went to pay for our electricity but couldn’t as the person who deals with that was busy dealing with the recovery truck blocking us in.
We finally got out and passed the golf course, where the balls seemed to have finally been cleared away, and set off for….
Germany
Most of the service stations here seems to be essentially stopping places with picnic tables and a loo. As we had food in the van and didn’t need petrol, a lay-by with a loo was all we really needed as it happened. The loo was pretty basic and smelly and you felt you needed to wash your hands again after leaving. This was just one stopping place, though, and may not be typical.
Our home for the next two nights was Camping Aichelberg. We were met at reception by a stocky guy in a bright yellow raincoat who showed us to our pitch. The site is at the edge of some woods, and there are numerous accommodation options from the little Hobbit House style huts you sometimes see in the UK to permanent static homes. Some of these were very well looked after and adorned with garden ornaments, sheds and gazebos, but some looked in dire need of some TLC.
The site was on the edge of a wood, so I wondered if we’d spot any wildlife. We did spot something that might have been a rat running around on a neighbouring pitch and I’m sure I saw a mouse darting into the undergrowth beside us. Pity it moved too fast to get a photo of the Mouse Family That Live By The Brambles’ German cousin! Loos immaculate at this site although you had to keep pressing the button every thirty seconds when taking a shower.
We took a walk into the town of Aichelberg. It was very quiet, hardly any people about. We did
meet an elderly lady, walking with two sticks who seemed to be trying to tell us something, but she didn’t speak English or French and our command of German wasn’t enough to work out what she was trying to say. She did seem friendly, though. Finding somewhere to have lunch in a virtual ghost town was a bit of a challenge. Arthur’s phone informed us that most of the places were closed until Wednesday or Thursday. We tried a hotel but the kitchen was closed. We eventually found an open cafe next to a supermarket where we could get a sandwich. We checked out the supermarket, knowing we need a wedding card and some wrapping paper. You could have purchased a baseball cap, a yoga mat, highlighter pens or socks, but no cards or wrapping paper. We bought some bread and fruit to justify going in there.
There’s an Italian restaurant close to the site so we booked in there. They only had tables outside, but the rain stayed away so it was fine.
Taxing journey from Germany to Austria with lots of traffic jams and trying to figure out why other vehicles were moving onto the hard shoulder and leaving a gap in the middle, presumably to let an emergency vehicle through, but none came. We presumed there must have been an accident, but when it finally cleared there was no evidence of one. In the UK you’ll usually see a mangled car at the side of the road and lots of shards of broken glass but there was nothing at all. Either it wasn’t an accident or they’re much more efficient at clearing away the aftermath in Germany.
Stopped at a service station for lunch. Again you have to pay to use the loo but at least it was one euro and so I had the appropriate change and knew to pick up the little ticket that would get us a euro off our lunch. The service stations aren’t as efficient as the motorway accident clearing, I have to say. The queue wasn’t long but barely moved and just as the people ahead of us reached the front they closed the till and we had to join another queue. When we got to the front of that one, the lady who seemed to know what she was doing wandered off and was replaced by a guy who was probably a trainee who merely looked at us blankly as we tried to order sandwiches in our best German. Luckily the woman came back to show the guy what to do and we finally got our baguette. As we sat down to eat it, the opened the original till again.
Austria
Wednesday
Found the site easily enough but the check in process was a bit of a
faff. We were allocated pitch 93, but the numbering system seemed to
bear no relation to the site map and we went around twice trying to
find it, having to brake for children on bicycles careering out in
front of us without looking and a toddler that decided to crawl onto
the road as we approached. A random woman with a baby who happened to
be walking past pointed us in the right direction in the end. Then we
can’t find the electricity bollard at first. Then we discover that
our shorter cable wasn’t long enough and the longer one is faulty.
Camp sites do sometimes have cables they can loan out but this one
didn’t; they were all booked out but we could go to some DIY shop
somewhere and buy one, but we’ve no idea where this shop even is or
if we could get there before it closed. We can run the fridge on gas
although the mechanism for that involves a battery which was dead.
However, Arthur mucked about with the longer cable and got it
working.
Most amazing camp site view ever
They certainly cram people in at this place and you feel a bit on top
of the neighbours, but it
St Johan in Tyrol
does have the most stunning views I’ve
ever seen from a camp site ever. In one direction, anyway. One way
there are mountains but if you venture back to reception and look the
opposite way, there’s a big factory. Can’t really see that from
our pitch, though.
We’d considered hiring a car for this leg of the trip but it turns out car hire in Kitzbuhel is the most expensive in the whole world, so looks like we’re walking everywhere. We’ve been issued with a free pass for public transport, but the nearest train station is at least 20 minutes walk away and the buses don’t seem to pass anywhere near the site.
All that said, the walk into town wasn’t that onerous, especially when we figured out the way out of the back of the camp site which knocked a good ten minutes off the walk. Despite bing in the mountains it was pretty flat. All the same, I’m not sure I want to do the walk in wedding finery. We ate at an Italian place, Tagliatelle and salmon, which was creamy and delicious.
Thursday
Returned to the town (St Johan in Tyrol) with a couple of missions. One was to get a wedding card and wrapping paper, but we found ourselves with another. Arthur decided to try on his wedding suit to make sure it still fit (though surely he should have done that before leaving England or at least in Luxembourg before going to Galeries Lafayette for a shirt!) It did fit, but had been attacked by moths and was full of holes to the extent it was unwearable, so we had to find a place that sold formal suits. Most of the shops weren’t formal enough or didn’t have anything in his size. Google to the rescue. It told us there was a clothes shop on the edge of town and there were were able to get a pair of smart trousers. We figured it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t exactly match the jacket as the forecast for the big day was sweltering so he’d possibly not be wearing the jacket much.
We also achieved the objective of finding a card and wrapping paper, and then it was time for lunch.
Ate upstairs in a cafe on the shopping street, the only problem being it seemed to be a popular suicide spot for fruit flies. Within moments there were about ten of them in my wine and I seemed to spend most of the time fishing the damned things out!
You have to pay for the showers at this site. 50 cents for 3 minutes, so we’re hoarding change. I’m hoping I’ll have enough time to wash and rinse my hair properly with the change we have. They also close the toilets at midnight. Glad I saw that sign before needing to go at 3am and getting there to find it locked.
Reviews of the site told us that the 3 minute countdown in the shower stops whenever you turn the water off, so you could get your money’s worth by turning it off while you’re soaping your hair. Plus I think I benefited from an extra minute or so that the person before me didn’t use.
We ate in a nearby hotel called the Pensinghof, which had been arranged by the bride and groom for those staying there for the wedding and we were able to arrange to join them. So we caught up with a few of the family and dumped our overnight bags with Arthur’s brother so we wouldn’t have to lug them to the wedding. Nice meal, including something called semolina soup which tasted like mushroom. The main course was a kind of Wiener schnitzel with ham and cheese in it and dessert, for me anyway, was pancakes with cherry sauce.
We’ve discovered a local cab firm called Taxi Tony, who picked us up from the camp site to save us a walk. Arthur tried to make conversation with the driver, but he didn’t speak any English. We drove right by the factory. Still don’t know what they make there but it clearly involves a lot of sand and wood chippings.
Friday
So misty this morning that we couldn’t see the mountains. However, the fog soon burned off and it was bright and sunny, and we were told we’d need our sunscreen.
We called Tony’s Taxi to take us to the wedding. We showed the driver the invitation as he seemed to have no idea where it was. We realised during the drive that our back up plan of showing up at the wedding in the motorhome would not have worked. A lot of narrow lanes. The address the driver had was a bunch of houses, but I managed to spot a small sign adorned with balloons and the words “Tom and Sabrina” so we got there looking for those.
A lovely setting for a wedding!
The wedding venue was basically a barn on the side of a mountain
although it had been repurposed for weddings and presumably other
celebrations. There was a loo and a small van selling coffee and
people we recognised so we knew we were in the right place. We’d
never met any of the bride’s family, but several of them came over
and introduced themselves and made us welcome. Everything was set up
around the back of the barn, outside (hence the warning to bring
sunscreen, although several bottle of the stuff had been left on a
shelf inside for people to help themselves to if they didn’t have
any). The building did have a large window in the side, so presumably
had the weather not been so good it could have all been moved
indoors.
The ceremony was bilingual, some of it in English and some in German so everybody would understand at least half of it. Music was provided by a duet, a guitar and a harp. We were all provided with a rolled up cardboard cone filled with dried flowers to use as confetti, a great idea in the current times when we have to be environmentally friendly. Though when it came to it, I ended up with as much in my hair as the bride did! There were some differences to weddings back home, which may have been Austrian or may have been what the couple chose. The speeches were part of the ceremony with both sets of parents and siblings and friends of the bride and groom getting up and saying a piece. Then they did a thing with a time capsule. There was a box, into which went a polaroid photo of the couple taken by the celebrant, a bottle of whisky and some geocache co-ordinates which had some meaning for them. As well as the dried flower confetti, everyone had been provided with a piece of paper and a pen to write some wishes for the couple onto and they all went in the box as well.
Towards the end a bunch of children arrived carrying streamers. The bride is a teacher so they may have been some of her students, and a guy dressed as a chimney sweep in a top hat carrying a horseshoe, for luck.
On to the reception in a convoy of taxis, to the hotel we ate at last night. Then we were hanging around for a bit waiting for the bride and groom to arrive. The shoes that were perfectly comfortable when I tried them on in my room at home were killing me by now. I took the chance to change into trainers, having noticed several people had worn trainers to the ceremony. The bride and groom arrived in an open top car with the photographer jogging along beside them, which she’d apparently done all the way from the venue. Every time she took a shot the camera seemed to take about 20. It seems she takes about 20,000 photos at every wedding and then has to narrow that down to a few hundred for the bride and groom to choose from.
There’s a tradition in Austria that guests give small presents and cards, which contain a gift of money, and there’s a specific time when you do that. Everyone lines up to present their cards and gifts and exchange a few words with the happy couple.
For the meal, they’d mixed up the families so there were some English and some German speaking people on each table. The people we were sat with were very friendly and lovely although conversations, given that they only spoke a little English and we spoke next to no German was quite hard work. One of the bride’s aunts showed us lots of pictures of her family and also her business venture, which as far as we could understand, was some sort of hut on the mountainside, like a hostel. It sounded quite nice although the only way to get there is a four hour hike carrying a sleeping bag and all your luggage, which put me off somewhat.
After the meal there was a band playing mostly English hits. At one point we all got pulled into a conga line, and had a bit of a bop. There were more traditions which I don’t know if they’re a feature of all Austrian weddings or tailor made for this one. There was a game of musical chairs, for ten people including the bride and groom and friends and relatives of a similar age. There was a twist. Not only did they have to find a seat, but they had to do so holding an item which they had to borrow from members of the audience, such as a watch, a tie, some English money and a pair of glasses. The groom won, only right and proper! Then they did a thing where the bride and groom were handcuffed to each other and had to cook an omelette, then a number of their friends lined up and each sang a verse of a funny song. Lost on us as it was all in German but those who could understand the words were in fits of laughter. Someone had arranged a tombola, a euro a ticket. The proceeds go to the happy couple as an extra present. I won a prize, which was “a romantic dinner for two” which was actually a McDonald’s voucher, and a heart shaped candle. Seeing as my husband is not in any way a fan of McDonald’s, I wasn’t sure we’d ever use it, which seemed a waste, but then our niece asked us if we wanted the voucher and if not could she have it, so I handed it over, pleased it wouldn’t go to waste. Kept the candle, though.
The band were supposed to play until 1am but kept on extending it with encores and eventually announced the party would continue in the bar. Most of us old fogies were ready to give up at that point, probably about 2am. We heard the next day the party lasted until 5am.
Saturday
We’d booked a room in the hotel for that one night. A lovely large
room with a great view. We
View from Hotel Pensinghof
took full advantage of the facilities and
had a soak in the bath and used the non-flaky wifi before checking
out. (Most of the sites we stayed in either had wifi that barely
worked or you had to pay for it).
After checking out we caught the train to Kitzbuhel. There’s a
railway station 5 minutes walk from the hotel. The train was
immaculate. A ticket inspector came through, checked Arthur’s
ticket but completely ignored me. Kitzbuhel is a charming town with
lots of churches and places to eat and/or get coffee. We stopped at a
bank to withdraw cash. The cashless society doesn’t look like it’s
coming to Austria any time soon – most places are cash only. At
midday we jumped out of our skins as a really loud siren goes off,
like an air raid warning or something. We were ‘What the actual f
is THAT?’ but the locals didn’t seem bothered at all and just
ignored it, so 
View from the top of the lift
we figured it must be a test. Perhaps there’s one
every Saturday at noon. God help everybody if a real disaster
happened at noon on a Saturday.
We took a telcabine up the mountain. Not cheap, but a lot more civilized in the summer than in the winter. You walk up and hop in the car, and get it to yourself, not like in the winter when you have to negotiate a scrum while carrying skis and poles and wearing ski boots and always have to share the cabine with strangers. We spotted alpacas grazing under a tree on the mountainside, and a guy toiling up the windy road on a bicycle. Crazy person! There was a restaurant at the top where we had a nice lunch and enjoyed the view, which was stunning. Some of the distant mountains had snow on them.
Back in the town we met up with the rest of the family and did a bit more sightseeing, going in one of the churches, which was lovely and cool inside.
Then it was back to the hotel to pick up our bags, and called Tony’s Taxi to take us back to the camp site. Muggy and cloudy. So much for the meteor shower that’s supposed to be happening tonight, we thought.
Sunday
Very hot today, so happy to chill at the camp site for most of the day. Arthur ventured into St Johan on his folding bike to get some provisions. Apparently the ride there was refreshing but
coming back is slightly uphill and he was burdened with bottles of water, milk and wine.
Went to the camp site restaurant for a cold beer and reserved a table for the evening. At eight, because Arthur couldn’t recall how to say “half past seven” in German. I’m fairly sure it “seben und dreisig” would have been understood, but I wasn’t asked.
The reason the place is absolutely rammed, apparently is because Tuesday is a bank holiday pretty much everywhere in Europe – Assumption Day.
Arrived at the restaurant and they asked if we’d like to eat inside or out. We opted for out and so the waiter walked up to a couple already seated on a large-ish table and asked if they’d mind moving up. They seemed okay about it and the table was large enough that you didn’t feel you were encroaching on their evening. Our waitress was a lovely Austrian granny, who didn’t speak much English but was smiley and welcoming. The restaurant also had a small white dog, which I’d seen around the site apparently on its own. There was lightning flashing in the distance and Arthur had his phone out checking the real time lightning map to see how far away it was, which got us chatting to the other couple, who I think were Dutch, who were rather impressed with the app. The storm got closer and was providing us with a very impressive light show until the staff came out and told us to go inside. Managed to pay the bill and use the loo and get back to the van before the rain started.
Monday
Hot again today but not as muggy. Had lunch in St Johan with Andrew and Keith, the last remaining English wedding guests. The rest were all whisked away by EasyJet yesterday. They had booked a table, which turned out to be in the tall building with a balcony we’d seen on our wanders around town. The décor was 1950s. Sadly we didn’t get a table outside, and there was no air conditioning so the cold beer was most welcome. The food was nice but they didn’t have any salads, only hot food. Our waiter was a very tall guy in lederhosen. Before we left I popped outside onto the balcony to take some photos. There was a table of Brits out there having a conversation about Paddy McGuinness! There didn’t seem to be much in the way of dessert menu in this place either so we went in search of an ice cream parlour in the town. The place we ended up in offered frozen yoghurt as well, which I’ve never tried, so I decided today was the day. Liked it. Would have it again.
Walked back in the searing heat. Saw some Austrian police just outside the camp site.
Skiving, Arthur reckoned, enjoying the shade of a tree. One of them was a bit of a hunk, I have to say.
Back at the site we watched the guy in the static home opposite mending his roof.
We booked the next leg of the trip. Before leaving England we’d only booked as far as Austria and were leaving it open as to which way we’d go home. We considered Slovenia, another country I’ve not yet visited, but they’ve had some flooding. We considered Switzerland but that would have necessitated obtaining Swiss Francs, which wouldn’t be easy on a bank holiday. So, we’re going to Italy. It occurs to me that our German made motorhome on a Fiat chassis gets to visit both its birthplaces.
Some excitement today – our electricity stopped working. Arthur mucked about with the cable, which made no difference. It was looking like we faced having no electricity for the rest of the trip – no means of charging phones, no TV. Luckily the fridge can be switched to gas and the lights to the battery. Unless the places we stop at going forward put us in range of our shorter cable.
This happens early evening the day before a bank holiday so finding the shop which supposedly sells them is out of the question.
However, we wondered if the air conditioning had blown a fuse inside the supply bollard, so Arthur went to ask the people at reception if they’d mind checking. It took the woman a while to get round to us as they were very busy but it turned out that was exactly what had happened.
You could tell the site was extra busy as there was a queue to wash up and there was one vehicle pitched up in the car park. We’d never seen a place quite so rammed, but they could be as bad in the UK on the August bank holiday weekend – we wouldn’t know as we generally avoid going away then.
Tuesday
Chilled at the camp site enjoying the view. The sky is always dramatic with amazing cloud formations. Occurred to me that you could tell a child the factory, which has steam coming out of its chimney 24/7, is a cloud factory.
Had top retreat inside at about 4pm as there was thunder and lightning rumbling around, and torrential rain. Luckily it cleared up before we wanted to go out and eat. The people at the site restaurant seemed pleased to see us again.
Italy
Wednesday
Bid farewell to Michelnhof and drove to Italy. Stopped at a rather odd service station. For one thing it was only on one side of the road and from our side you had to go through an underpass to get to it. Pert of it was a large room with structures in it, some sort of art exhibition or memorial. Didn’t have to pay to use the loo here. A bit of a queue for food but more civilized that some places we’ve seen. They even had a wine shop!
Drove past acres of vineyards and apple orchards. The road signs were bilingual, Italian and German. Stunning scenery. Still in the mountains, quaint chalets. Trees, some starting to change to autumn colours. A stunning green lake.
We’re now staying in a small ski resort called Maso Corto, where there’s glacier skiing in winter. The village itself is quite high up and our poor motorhome struggled on some of the mountain roads in the latter part of the journey. The site looks rather like a desolate car park and there are no staff and no reception office. To get in you have to scan a QR code
previously e-mailed to us. The views are spectacular and it’s nowhere near as crowded as the last place. The biggest bugbear is having to scan the QR code to get into the toilets/showers. There was a knack to that, clearly, which we just didn’t get at first and had to be let in by a little German girl. The screen said something about scanning your number plate but writing out the licence plate of the motorhome on a piece of paper didn’t work. We did get it working eventually, sort of. Sometimes the door would open on the first try but at others I’d be standing there with my legs crossed trying to get the angle of my phone exactly right and looking a right idiot. However, once you get in the facilities are nice and clean. We never saw a cleaner at any point but they must exist!
The village is 5 minutes walk away. It has hotels, restaurants, bars and a tiny church which probably wasn’t much bigger than our motorhome. There’s a supermarket and what looks like a scrapyard for bits of old ski lifts. Everything from wheels to cable cars. There’s what looks like a nursery slope with a drag lift and a telecabine which is actually working so that’s something to do tomorrow.
We ate in an Italian place in the village. Though, of course, we’re in Italy so everywhere is an Italian place when you think about it. Had lasagne and some red wine. They’d run out of the one we ordered but the waitress made a recommendation which turned out to be excellent.
While we were eating we started hearing cracking sounds, which Arthur guessed might be fireworks. The waitress informed us that it was a local tradition where a bunch of guys gather in the village square and put on a display of cracking whips. When we finished eating we went and watched and found a bar for a couple of drinks.
Thursday
Took the telecabine up. Quite rocky and desolate terrain up there. There were people hiring
little go-kart type things and barrelling down the mountain path on them. Mostly parents with their kids. We weren’t tempted. There was a place to eat up there, so had another lasagne.
Went back to the same restaurant in the evening and had spaghetti carbonara this time.
Friday
Moved on to Lake Garda where it is over 20 degrees, after needing jumpers at Maso Corto first thing.
Lake Garda, or at least, the particular part we’ve ended up staying in, seems a bit like Southend or Barry Island, with several theme parks with roller coasters nearby, although the lake itself is beautiful. The camp site isn’t the best. We are pitched in the car park, which I guess is what you get if you travel in school holidays and book up at the last minute. Since there is nobody in the pitch next to us we can sit outside but it’s all concrete. You can’t really see the lake from where we are, but we have a great view of the bins. There’s no wifi and the reception staff are grumpy. There are proper pitches with trees for shade and a view which might have made for a better experience, but as it is it’s rather like camping in a motorway service station. The loos aren’t great either. The men’s is at ground level but we women have to descend into the bowels of the earth. There appeared to be communal showers and half the cubicles had those squatting toilets. The locks on the doors left a bit to be desired as well. Didn’t feel entirely safe for some reason.
However, you can walk down to the lake in 10 minutes and though it’s a bit crowded and touristy we found a nice place to eat. You can hire a boat, but that was too expensive. Still, it might be worth coming back one day and spending a bit more time planning. The lake is huge and no doubt the character changes as you travel around it.
Saturday
Chilled at the site mostly. Kind of a shame that there’s this lovely scenic spot a few minutes away but we’re sitting in a car park! However, it was very hot and we decided that it would make most sense to go to the restaurant on site for lunch and venture down to the lake for our evening repast, as it would be cooler than and we could see the sunset. Which did appear to be spectacular last night but our view of it was blocked by a building between the site and the lake.
The site restaurant is one of those places where you have to scan a QR code in order to look
at the menu, but the advantage of that is you can choose which language to read it in. Nevertheless I’m an old fogey for whom technology doesn’t always work, so I’m not keen on being forced to do that. Having read the menu in English we had to communicate to the waitress, who spoke no English, what we wanted. Still, we got there and the tuna and onion pizza I went for was very nice indeed.
For the evening meal we went back to the place we ate in yesterday. Still baking hot when we left at 7pm. Luckily there was a table, as I’d not seen any evidence of any other places to eat nearby. Had Greek salad and got some reasonable sunset pictures.
Back at the camp site we were accosted by one of the staff who seemed to think we’d just arrived and was trying to direct us to reception. While we can get by fairly easily in French and a smattering of German and can at least tell people we don’t speak German, but neither of us even knows how to say “I don’t speak Italian” in Italian. All we could do was point at our motorhome which was already installed. We thought we might have to show the guy we had the key to it, but he suddenly got the message and clapped Arthur on the back and left us alone.
A large motorhome with 6 Brits in it pitched up next to us. They have some problem with it which can’t be fixed until Monday.
Sunday
We were already outside chilling when the first of our neighbours emerged. The first thing he said on opening his door was “Shit!” referring to how hot it already was at 9.30 am! It made a change to have neighbours we could actually have a conversation with. They’d been on the road for 3 weeks and they go skiing in Soll.
We had to leave them, though as it was time to move on. Had to negotiate a different way out as someone had set up a fruit stall blocking the way we’d come in.
The drive today was full of toll station excitement. The toll stations all seem to have a low terminal for cars and a higher one for lorries but a motorhome is kind of in between so it was a struggle to reach. Had visions of dropping the ticket they issue or even worse my credit card while trying to insert it. Often I had no idea how much I was supposed to pay because the wing mirror blocked the view of the screen displaying the bill. Where possible we’d try and take a lane with a human being presiding over it, but it wasn’t always an option. Even then it’s hard to imagine how a person in a British vehicle travelling alone ever manages as everything is on our passenger side. The worst that happened though was that I got done out of a euro when I paid a 9 euro toll with a 10 euro note and couldn’t reach the change. The person behind us had a bit of luck, then.
All the service stations seemed to be absolutely rammed with lorries, just chilling out as far as we could tell. One even had his bonnet up and had strung a washing line across it! Suppose they all take Sunday off, but there was no room for a little motorhome to park. This led to us paying an extra toll because on leaving the service station we couldn’t get into we ended up on the wrong road. We ended up just pushing on to our destination without a lunch stop.
We arrived at Camping Bella Torino which, as you might have guessed, isn’t far from Turin.
This site has pitches divided from others by hedges so possibly the best for privacy so far. There’s a nice restaurant on site with friendly staff. The waitress seemed genuinely worried that I hadn’t liked my main course as I couldn’t eat it all.
Arthur claimed to see a lizard on our pitch. However, it conveniently vanished under the motorhome before I could even catch a glimpse of it. We’ve had squirrels and rabbits and mice and robins on our pitch, but never a lizard!
Monday
We’d booked ourselves on the 10am shuttle which takes you to a place where you can get the bus to Turin. The driver was allegedly the manager of the site although he looked rather young, a bit like Donny Osmond, I thought. He told us emphatically before we left that we must catch the 59 bus back and on no account must we catch the /59, because who knows where we might end up!
We decided we’d take the hop on hop off bus tour. Arthur usually despises them but I made the point that we only have one day and the temperature was forecast to reach 34 degrees so not the day to be wandering around in the hope of finding something interesting.
There are three possible tours you can take. We ended up taking two of them. When we arrived the next one to leave was the Green tour. You get free earphones to listen to the commentary, which had background music that sounded a bit like the James Bond theme in places. This tour went out of the city and past the Juventus stadium, twice. The commentary was mostly about the Savoy family who apparently built themselves a lot of holiday homes. Some of these were described in great detail but more often than not, not at the point where you could see them. In fact, the commentary rarely seemed to match what you could see from the window.
The stop off points were mostly museums, (including a Juventus museum and a Lavazza coffee museum) but we’d established that many of them didn’t open on Mondays so there was no point in getting off. The only place we might have been tempted to get off and spend more time was at the palace grounds but it was nearly time for lunch and there was no evidence of anywhere to get any food.
Back in central Turin we found a place to have lunch and went for an Oslo salad, which contained salmon, almonds, lettuce, spinach and sun dried tomatoes. Some other Brits came in and were busy looking at the menu through their phones, using Google translate. It occurred to me that anyone from the 1970s seeing this would have thought they’d come from the Starship Enterprise!
After lunch we took the Red tour, which was by far the better of the two. It took in more of the iconic sights of Turin like the Cathedral and the movie museum and the commentary matched what you could actually see. It told us that while you can visit the Chapel of the Shroud, the shroud isn’t on display to the public so all you can do is visit another chapel where they have a photograph of it. We’ve seen photographs of the shroud already so decided we’d give that one a miss, but the history of film arranged vertically with a scenic elevator sounds worth doing but again, it’s probably not open on Mondays, plus it’s mid afternoon by now and even if it was open we’d not have time to do it justice. It is starting to look like this trip to Turin is actually a recce for a city break we may well take in the future, when it’s not as hot and not school holidays and not on a Monday.
There’s a street leading to a bridge across the River Po which is a slope but the buildings
were all built varying in height so it looks to be flat. There’s an area we passed through which is described as the “Black Heart” of the world and the place where the battle between good and evil rages, and the gates of hell are allegedly also here. Looked perfectly ordinary, and no sign of Lucifer or his minions. It’s likely this is where executions took place in times gone by, and this is why the place has such a grim reputation.
After the tour we took a walk down the slope with buildings built to make it look flat, so we could take some pictures of the river. It’s not a steep hill but walking back up in 34 degrees was a bit of an effort. Had to stop halfway for a sit down and some water.
We caught the 59 bus (managed to avoid the dreaded /59) which got us back to the pick up point which is in a village called Dorento. There wasn’t time to sample any of the cafes as it was almost time for Donny to come and pick us up and take us back to Camping Bella.
It’s with dismay that we note that the forecast for our next stop will be 40 degrees.
Ate at the site restaurant again and they seemed really pleased to see us. Skipped the starter so I could finish all my main course and not upset the waitress. Even managed a dessert which was advertised as lemon sorbet with vodka, although it wasn’t entirely frozen and more like a creamy cold drink. Tonight we got a free liqueur which we were told was made from herbs, although it tasted a bit chocolatey to me.
France
Tuesday
Drove through loads of tunnels on the way here, one of which had a toll of 69 euros, which seemed a bit steep since the most we’d paid for any section of road thus far was 11 euros. Most of the toll stations are contactless in France so I dread to think what this is costing me. At least none of them rejected my card. I usually only know it’s worked when Arthur starts yelling at me to “get in” as I can’t see the barrier for the wing mirror.
Stopped at a service station for lunch and it was much easier, as we’re more used to communicating in French.
Our nephew and his new wife are in Norway on their honeymoon and posted on Whatsapp that they’d taken an excursion to the Arctic Circle, so at least they aren’t melting in the heat.
We ate at a place called Le Choudron, where we met a Dutch guy and got chatting to him. He
was on his own, and told us he was on a solo cycling trip and tomorrow is his 74th birthday. The restaurant is in a turning off the main road which has steps going up. Someone had painted a picture on the vertical part of the stairs. We sat outside and I had a salmon fillet and a peach sorbet. Although an alternative option would have been frog’s legs to take away! Very pleasant evening.
The town is very old, lots of history here, I think. The river is La Saone. On our way back we strolled along its banks and took photos of a huge boat steaming by.
Wednesday
We needed milk and Arthur thought there was a supermarket “just up here”. It turned out to be quite a walk but it took us past the town hall, a church, a clock tower and a viewpoint with panoramic views of the river, so it was worth doing.
In the evening we ate at the restaurant nearest the site which was called La Maison Bleue. Authentic French place. Google couldn’t translate everything on the menu, so we decided the veal stew was the safest option. Very nice indeed, the meat nice and tender. Boozy berry sorbet for dessert, and we’d almost finished by the time the party of 20 on the next table showed up.
Thursday
A very long drive today to get to Camping de la Pointe near Rheims.
Stopped at a service
Church at Trevoux
station where I had something like Coronation
chicken in a baguette. There was a family there with a cat on a lead.
As we set off, the sat nav informed us, for the first time, that our
route was going to take us through the Rheims Low Emission Zone, so
we had to stop at another service station to try and figure out how
to tell Google maps we want to avoid low emission zones. Turns out
you can’t, so we had to stop at yet another service station to
switch to Waze, which can be told to use a route avoiding LEZs. It’s
better to use data than stray into an LEZ in a diesel fuelled
motorhome.
Secluded pitch, the only bugbear is it’s right opposite the swimming pool which is full of screaming children. We expect it will be more peaceful when the pool closes at 6pm.
We’re only here for one night so no chance to explore very much. However, we’ve made note that it’s a nice site and worth considering should we ever want to do another motor through France. Which isn’t completely off the table. After visiting a couple of ski resorts, Arthur is interested in visiting some of the places he’s been skiing in during the summer.
The site restaurant resembled a converted conservatory of a private house. The place mats displayed an extensive pizza menu and Arthur feared he might be forced to eat pizza. However, the guy came out with a blackboard listing some more authentic French dishes so we had a tomato, soft cheese and pesto starter, “filet of bar” which is some sort of fish, possibly bass and toasted brioche with ice cream. “See you tomorrow,” says the waiter as we left. We didn’t have the heart to tell him we’re only here for one night.
The toilets here are spanking new. Possibly not even quite finished. There are no loo seats, although that might be intentional. You never know outside of the UK. They’re also unisex.
Friday
Now at Camping St Antoine which is near to a village called Bollezeele, which our research tells us claims to be “the most Flemish town in France”. We stopped at the entrance so Arthur could go check in as is customary in most of the places we’ve stayed in. A bloke in the garden of one of the nearby houses started shouting and gesticulating at us and pointing at the reception building. We weren’t sure if he was being helpful or if he was a miserable old git who hates having motorhomes parked near his house even for the time it takes to check in. He did have a “Beware of the guard dog” sign on his gate, so I’m leaning towards miserable git. We could see there was nowhere to park at reception and if we stopped there we’d be blocking the road, but thought we’d better do that before this guy set his dogs on us.
A woman came out of reception and led us straight to the pitch. Not the manager, apparently, but looking after things while the manager had a siesta. She spoke very little English and was trying to tell us something about rain, but she was infinitely more friendly than the guy with the guard dogs.
The toilets are pretty basic. No loo seats again, and no loo roll, and you have to pay for the shower. There seem to be a lot of static homes and near to us was one guy out watering his garden.
We were told there was a short cut into the village across some fields and through a park, so we went to investigate. We wandered into a restaurant called Tour de Monde and Arthur started asking if they were open this evening and if they had a table for two in his best French, only to have the woman snap at us, “You can say it in English.” We thought she might have been sorely offended at how he was slaughtering her language! Anyway, when we went back to eat there, she turned out to be really nice and friendly. The other waitress spoke no English but was smiley and welcoming.
The place is an Aladdin’s cave of things the owners presumably
picked up on their “Tour de Monde”: a globe, a blowtorch with a
light, a wooden spinning top, a tiny Moroccan tagine, scales, a
coffee grinder, a set of books about great artists, a book called “La
toilette” (the toilet), a toy hot air balloon, a Moorish
marionette, and old camera, an elephant puppet and a motorcycle in
the window, probably 1940s with a very flat tyre.
Neo Gothic town hall
The menu was small, which seems to be the norm in France. They tend to have the menu written on a blackboard with three starters, three mains and between one and four desserts. At least one dish will be something you’re not sure you’d eat, in this case one of the starters was “gizzard salad” which we guessed is probably an acquired taste. So we went for a goat’s cheese salad and the fish course.
The church is by far the biggest building in the town and dominates the town square. It’s dedicated to St Adrien. The town hall is described as “Neo Gothic”.
Saturday
Went to the town for some lunch. Tour de Monde seemed to be the only place open so we ate there again. A tad embarrassing to be back so soon but they were still welcoming.
In the evening we wondered about returning to the town as even Arthur would have been too embarrassed to go back to the same restaurant for the third time in 24 hours, and we’d exhausted the menu in any case. As it turned out, there was a pizza pace open in the evening. They offered two types of pizza: the usual tomato base or a crème fraiche base. Decided to go for the latter in order to try something different. Chose a burger pizza which had ground beef and cheddar cheese. It was delicious but extremely rich and quite large, and after having had a large lunch I couldn’t manage it all, which was a shame.
Sunday
Early start today. Had to be up at 7 and straight off without even time for a cup of tea. We
encountered out first obstacle before we’d even left the camp site – they close the gates at night. Thankfully they were only secured by a bolt which we could open easily, but that was just the start. Before too long we encountered a height restriction which allowed nothing higher than a car to go through, so we had to figure out a new route, which included another height restriction and a closed road. By some miracle we got to Calais in time for the ferry.
Three passport checks. The UK Border Control Woman was friendly and chatty though Arthur thinks that was a ruse so we’d be tricked into admitting we had more than a teaspoon of wine in the fridge or a family of
Syrians hiding in the bathroom. Needless to say, we didn’t have a family hiding in the bathroom but we probably had more wine than Brex-shit Britain’s government would like, but got away with it.
When booking we weren’t given the option of booking a lounge like on the way out but it turned out there was one, anyway, and we could upgrade for £27 each. Given that it was the bank holiday weekend that was a good move. A lot more peaceful in there.
Ordered a full English and coffee from the young Oriental guy on reception, whose name, according to his name badge, was “I Made Yoga”.
Great views of the white cliffs of Dover.
Drove home and that was the end of this trip.
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