First Day at Work.

Day 29, Monday, Concourson Sur Layon, 30^th May.

First Day at Work.

We arrived in Concourson Sur Layon on Saturday evening and were told to basically chill out until today, which we did.

We started work at 11am today, cleaning toilets and showers with Sam and Jim, our new neighbours, co-workers and hopefully friends. Then onto the gardening where we helped Peta, a Dutch man who lives on the campsite between April and October every year and has done for the last nine years. Digging and weeding very, very dry soil. The gardening pushed Bob to his limits and with one dig too many he put his back out, so weeding I continued on my own. It felt good to be working, although not sure about repeating the mid day sun heat gardening, so will probably try and do it in the mornings instead. Peta is funny and strange, he works all day although he doesn’t have to and appears to think that everybody should do the same. He also told me that I have a mans name.

The rest of the day we had to ourselves, but with Bob flat out in the awning, there was  no exploring to be done so instead I went to Aldi and had the strangest shopping experience I have had. I was the only shopper and there was no sign of a shop assistant. Walking the isles I felt like I had walkedonto a film set and was going to be chased by zombies at any moment. The only sound in the whole store was my eight bottles of wine chinking away in my trolley, it felt rather eerie. I stood by the checkout for some time before the assistant appeared. The rattled my shopping through in silence, and then I rattled it back to the campsite as fast as I could, still feeling a bit weird.

General caravan cleanliness was what then occupied my afternoon, then a spot of knitting and dinner with Bob over a bottle of wine. I managed to make two curries from dried chickpeas and soya beans which has already fed us twice and will probably feed us twice more. I should be making more meals like that, using up store cupboard ingredients, but I just can’t stay out of the supermarkets, I just love them.

We met a man called Graham while cycling through the campsite later in the evening and he is interested in buying Mini, the bike with small wheels for his wife. I don’t know how I feel about this and must sleep on it. Graham has also probably refereed games of rugby which my dad played in in the 80’s. He now lives in France and his wife watches Coronation Street at 10pm every night.

Sleep I shall on the future of Mini,

Bon Nuit,x.

Paris J’Taime

Day 26, Friday, Paris, 27^th May.

Paris J’Taime.

Yesterday we drove and drove and drove. Through Holland, then Belgium and into France. With no real plan other than to get to the Loire Valley I was heavily tempted by the road signs to Paris. A place I love. Bob slept from Holland, through Belgium and half an hour into France so when he woke he was surprised that I had decided to head for a municiplal campsite in Paris and that we were actually back in France. A long nine hours after leaving Monster we made it to the outskirts of Paris and pretty much fell into bed after eating some Pizza.

I woke early this morning, excited about getting to the city that stole my heart years ago. Afteracold shower and a visit to the Boulangerie I forced Bob out of bed with a still warm croissant. It appeared that sleeping in pays off as he then jumped into a hot shower.

A half hour walk by the river takes you to the train station, then a twenty minuet train ride takes you to Chatalet, Paris.

We drank expensive coffee, crossed the river at Point Neuf, sipped cheap cider and ate baguette of the year under the Eifel Tower, enjoyed the always glowing light at the Sacre Coure, spotted a Quentin Tarrantino lookalike, walked through the sexy streets which lead to the Moulin Rouge, and then got annoyed that I couldn’t find a bar I visited a few years ago and thought was brilliant. Oh well, the day got better again when a couple we were stopped by for directions to somewhere they could buy flat bread thought we were Parisian!

The thought of having just a few hours in Paris made me a little sad, but there is more to see and not being able to afford butter for baguette of the year earlier in the day we decided that Paris should be re-visited in more wealthy times. So we headed back to the caravan, ate Pomme Noissettes once more, and once more, fell into bed.

Bon nuit Paris, until next time, x.

p.s. I love you.

Face down in the sand.

Day 24, Wednesday, Monster, 25^th May.

Face down in the sand.

Yesterday was pointless. We set off late at 3pm to travel to our next destination, we were no longer sure about Venlo and the tomatos after hearing about the asperges farm so we headed north west, towards Amsterdam, to Gouda. After a massive wrong turn detour we arrived in Gouda in the early evening. Gouda looked like a mini Amsterdam, pretty and alive. However, all of the campsites were either full or closed. As it got dark a man at a petrol station told us to follow him and he would guide us to another site. As we left him into the pitch black at some  traffic lights, the day began to get  worse. We couldn’t locate the campsite he told us of and we ended up on the skinniest path, parallel between two canals. This was the point at which I realised that my headlights were not working. Terrified I was going to drive into the water I ended up in tears as the path was never ending and there was nowhere to turn around. Finally, after what felt like hours we were out of the dark canal maze and we hit the road, a busy road. I decided to stop as it was nearly midnight, there are o campsites and I couldn’t see. We stopped in the layby overnight, crumpled up, freezing and scared. At 4.30am it started to get light. We decided to have a nice cup of tea and head for the coast. Bob’s dreadful mood and snappy behaviour inspired me to aim for Monster. I had no idea what was there, and didn’t care. Monster is where we were going. We, well, I, immediately found a campsite in Monster sandwiched between the ocean and a windmill. It being only 6.30am we had a two and a half hour wait for the site to open. Having quite a lot of time to think whilst I cleaned rubbish from the car and having my second wee in a bottle, I realised that the budget was not going very well. Crap. What can we do? I remembered about an email mother had sent me about a campsite in France where you work for a few days a week and camp for free. The campsite is in Bilowitz, damn, its on the border with Spain. I decided to call mother. Thinking she was an earlier riser that she is I woke her up at 6.30am. Kindly, and very motherly, she checked the internet for adverts similar jobs and said she would text me with the results. About a minuet later my phone beeped with a message of work on a campsite. I called the campsite which resulted in us needing to make a U-Turn back to France to the Loire Valley for free camping and electric in return for a few hours work a day. Brilliant. We can buy some time in France before our grape picking work in September, Yippeee!

We felt like crap, it was 7.30 am after no sleep and we looked like hell. I decided that I couldn’t drive today so we are staying one night in Monster then are going to get an early start to the day on the road. Who knows, maybe we will be back in France tomorrow?

After showers, ah, never needed one more, even though the timer on the shower lets you wash for a mere 5 minutes, so it was quite a rushed affair, it was good. Monster, we discover is a beach mostly, then a cycle path, then a town. The town is okay, and the beach is nice, vast and people are surfing. The campsite is cool, although full of rules and quite busy. There a wooded beach huts you can hire, many caravans and some campers, and a surf shack on site.

We cycled into Monster, past streets on green houses, all growing flowers and tomatoes. There seem to be more houses for produce than there are for people. I bought a pizza for much needed energy and a tiny pair of clogs for the caravan. We then visited the beach and played Frisbee and I fell asleep face down in the sand.

Starving after some time we headed back to the caravan and Bob made spaghetti and we played dominoes and drank wine from a carton.

I feel a bit sad that we have to return to France so swiftly, but we seem to have no choice at this point as the money just isn’t stretching as far as I had expected, or wanted it to.  The campsites are as expensive as paying rent on a flat in Manchester and our week in Someren Heide was not free. The travellers dream was woken when we realised that when Wilma said “The camping is free”, she meant that there was space to camp and we were landed with a bill for 110 euro in departure, woops.

There is an upside to returning to France other than loving it and free camping though. The wine cellar needs re-stocking, and what better place to do it than the Loire Valley?

Very goodnight, x.

We made it to America!

Day 22, Monday, America!, 23^rd May.

We made it to America!

We made it to America today, America, Holland that is. America a small and closed on Mondays. Damn. 

 

 

Disappointed we followed the signs to a local attraction called  Toverland, we found out that it was a theme park with rides and looked quite cool, but at 22 euro admission and 6 euro parking we left and ended up in Germany. 

The town we found, which we have no idea what it was called or where it was, was tacky, neither of us liked it but I did spot the spaghetti ice cream, something I have wanted now for about two years  since a friend told me about it, but at 6 euro, I had to remain wanting. We didn’t want to stay in the tacky town, so we headed back over the border. 

Back in Holland we found another quaint town, it looked very wealthy, but not very interesting. We bought some bread and some interesting chocolate called ‘Sinas Snippers’ looked around a bit, had a  drink in a bar where a group of old men playing cards pointed and laughed at my trousers, then we made our way back to the caravan.

Not one the most interesting days.

Bob has eaten five more of the twenty frikkedellen and made curry dogs with some left over curry while we researched European festivals.

Tomorrow we must definitely move on. Definitly.

Goodnight,x.

Dutch Pancake Country

Day 20, Saturday, Someren, 21^st May.

The gas bottle ran out this morning and we don’t know where to get a new one. The early morning I had hoped for turned into another late morning. It is so easy to sleep here, no other campers and the birds rise later than they do in France.

Yesterday was a lazy one around the caravan, tidying and soaking then boiling chickpeas for hours on end. Martein had come to the caravan to show Bob a bike while I was napping, which he offered to sell him for 25 euro. The bike is old and has been sitting in one of Wilma and Matien’s barns for four years, a nice bike although a bit on the rusty side. I woke to a hot air balloon skimming the grass outside the caravan. It was too late to take a photograph once I had realised that I was not dreaming. What a sight, and what a sound.

This morning the bike looked and sounded older than it had the night before, rustier and clicking. We decided to go and look at the chocolate beauty in the bike shop again. On arrival we were told that the bike could not be fixed, we looked at it and Bob decided to take it out for a test ride anyway as we couldn’t understand what the problem with it was. He wobbled down the street and back as to break you had to peddle backwards which felt a little odd. As he said the bike was fine, Bob did a deal with the guy in the shop and bought the bike for 25 euro and got a new gear cable thrown in, Bargain! Now the proud owners of four bikes, we took two of the bikes out for a ride. I was happy to back on my bike, although now on the chocolate beauty Bob can cycle even faster. Holland, being as flat as a pancake is brilliant to cycle around. The cycle lanes are away from the road and well kept and pootling along is a pleasure. We cycled into Maheeze woods and stopped by a large pond to enjoy a bottle of wine and heard some very odd sounding nature, saw a frog, had a laugh and had a widdle in the woods.

 

 

 It was a hot day today and Martein said that he wanted to heavens to rain when I found him watering flowers back at the campsite. Last night he showed us a barn full of caravans, a trailer for the horses to pull that he had made and painted with tar and some wood that he is going to make a gazebo from, he never stops. He told us that he sleeps for about 3 hours a night.

We need to move on soon, although staying in one place for a week has felt super. But we need to work and get to Berlin for July and see more of this dutch pancake country.

I made a curry last night and am hoping there is enough gas in one of our bottles to heat it up and make some cous cous for tea. It smells like a good one and should do too having been three days n the making. We didn’t get chance to eat the curry as Wilma and Martein lit a fire for us and we joined them drinking wine and beer while sat around the glowing wood. We looked at the stars, talked about various matters and Bob played Losing My Religion for Martein, one of his favourites. They told us about the woman who owns the Asperges farm where we looked for work. They told us that we were lucky that she never called as she has been in prison for mis-treating workers a few years ago. She never pays them properly, takes their passports and doesn’t let them even go to the shops. Lucky was probably the wrong word.

The night grew into morning, and I grew tired. A Saturday evening well spent with a full tummy of wine, not curry. Oh well, it should taste even better tomorrow, goodnight, x.