Exciting times in the camp again. Lets face it, we have lots but this is a good one, especially if you’re Amanda - we have kittens! They have arrived a little earlier than planned but circumstances dictated their inclusion into the fold. Last Saturday night at about nine thirty, there was a knock at the door. It was Emma, Peter & Pam’s daughter, holding on to two tiny black kittens. “They followed two of the walkers back from the village”, she said, “what am I going to do them?”

Easy answer to that one. Within ten minutes a blanket and box was prepared and they went into our shower. Having just got out of it, I dressed and walked (limped, but that’s another story) up into Reeth to try and find their owner. It took me about half an hour to find her. It was pretty obvious that whilst they weren’t being mis-treated, they weren’t exactly getting their needs as twelve-week-old kittens met. I suggested this to her at which point she admitted she wanted to find them a new home. So I said we’d take them to France with us and that they had a good new home.

I got back to find Amanda cooing over a box of black fur, having already discovered their quite different personalities and deciding which was Coco and which was Gigi. She was disappointed to learn that I had found their owner and delighted that she was now their new mum.

Gigi is the smaller and most feisty one. She’s a bit braver and more sociable. Coco is a little more in her own space but nonetheless a very amicable little thing. Gigi seems to have made her allegiances with Amanda and Coco with me. And that’s just in 72 hours. So far there have been no allegiances with Pooch and there’s a definite tension between them. If he’s too close they hiss and spit at him and in return he snaps at them. At the moment it is not all love and peace. They are all very interested in each other, but the cats are just unaware that he’s a big softy and won’t harm them. I guess that’ll change with time.

As for the rest of the news, all is going apace with our purchase at La Besse. We should be all sorted within the next week or so. Only another 5 weeks and we’ll be French residents. Have to say we are really looking forward to the move. I have been busy working out the holiday cottages and the end barn and putting together budgets and spec sheets. I think I’ll start a new blog when we move. Watch this space! Right now we are in Cumbria and on Thursday we head to Warwickshire to see my brother and revamp his kitchen. Kinda get back into working. We spent a full day dragging out the storage unit and repacking ready for moving the other day. I was knackered.

Anyhow, there’s a little video of the kittens for you. More soon I hope!

New Photos

Click on the link on the right

Floozie2 is For Sale

Yes! You have read it right. It just goes to show what a difference a few months make

I know it’s been a absolute age since I updated the blog and one hell of a lot has happened since including a trip to Mauritius, Paris and London, life in France, a health scare and most importantly a change in life direction.

I’m not dwelling on the health scare, which was me for a change and has now passed, mostly. The trip to Mauritius was truly brilliant, the holiday of a lifetime to celebrate our forthcoming vows ceremony and Amanda’s 50th birthday. We also spent time in London and Paris, falling head over heels for the latter and enjoying the vibrancy of the West End in the former. Finally, after 15 years of owning the CD, we went to se Les Miserables and we were totally blown away by it. I was so overcome with emotion that it was 20 minutes before I could talk to Amanda, knowing full well that if I tried I’d dissolve into tears. YES! It is that powerful and beautiful.

Paris is just glorious with more highlights than we can shake a stick at, but one of the best was dinner on the ‘Bateau Mouche’ on the Seine (very romantic) and seeing all our favourite impressionist artists’ paintings in the flesh as it were. Being big fans of Monet and Renoir, it was a joy to see them. Also Van Gogh, whose work is extraordinary.

The photos posted on the blog give a pictorial view of the past few months.

Last week’s events however do need fleshing out a little bit. After eighteen months of planning our weekend of celebrations to renew our vows and Amanda’s birthday came to fruition in perfect style. The weather was kind, remaining dry and overcast; perfect for the ceremony in Reeth Community Orchard. As our guests arrived, the brass band played and after their introductory piece, Deep Harmony, we were both in tears. That kind of set the tone for the rest of the morning although Amanda held it together far more than I. It was delightful to let the emotion of the day take us up and let the joy flow. And the tears!

Our friends Liz and Karen did readings for us, the band played some more and we read our vows to one another. We also planted two climbing roses in the garden as a memory to our day. Then the champagne flowed, we chatted and we laughed and just had fun. I forgot to give Amanda her eternity ring during the vows bit – neither had written it down on our running order and if it ain’t written down, it don’t get done! Still, most people were still there, so they got to witness me finally putting it on her finger. The ring was custom made in Rochechouart, our new home in France and is a band of white gold with diamonds and amethyst set into it. Simple, elegant and beautiful.

From the orchard, we went up to Overton House Café where Jill and Adrian surpassed themselves to produce the most wonderful lunch in French style. Thanks guys, it was perfect.

Two working groups went from the café; one to clear up the mess in the orchard, the other to decorate the hall for the ceilidh. Then back to the Burgoyne for a rest before hitting the dancing.

The evening was great although not so many people turned up as expected, so the fish and chip supper turned out quite expensive. It was however a roaring success and great fun. The band were in fine form, Hillary getting everyone up and calling some great dances. The whole place rang with laughter. Truly brilliant.

Last thing at night, we let two Chinese lanterns into the air from Reeth Green. They are remarkably beautiful to watch ascending skyward. A perfect end to a perfect day.

Sunday. Amanda’s 50th Birthday. She was centre stage and enjoying every second of it – deservedly so. The Burgoyne crowd enjoyed a large leisurely breakfast and morning; some walking off the night before, some just lounging. Emma and MM came up in the late morning and sat with us until we went through for lunch. Derek and his team did us proud yet again on the food and service and Amanda was in fine form looking fabby. She did have fifty candles on her cake and needed the help of little Katie and Oliver to blow them all out, with some effort!

The afternoon was spent in the sun in the garden overlooking Reeth green. Our friends gradually drifted away, heading home and by teatime there were just eight left; my family. We scooted off to the pub for yet more food (albeit small portions) and a beer.

It was a brilliant, brilliant weekend and thanks to all our friends and family who travelled far and wide to be with us, especially cousin Mark and Carlos who came all the way from Barcelona. Seeing you all there was a true joy to both of us and we will treasure the memories always.

By the way, thanks to all of you who donated to the Swaledale mountain rescue team in lieu of gifts - £180 is going their way. If anyone forgot or would like to donate anything, let me know. They do stirling work, all voluntary and save lives every year.

Our new home in France.

The news you’ve been waiting for! It became apparent that whilst life on the road was fun and we had thought to have a few years out, there was something missing. A base perhaps or the need for a project. Whatever, we started looking in the Limousin when we returned there in the spring. Rather Amanda did; I found myself back in the UK trying to find out why my digestive system wasn’t working properly. She found some interesting possibilities and a whole load of expensive ‘refresher’ opportunities. Hmm. Interesting term that. Yes, as always, the estate agents were keen to encourage us numpty brits to part with their cash on seriously expensive money pits. You really do have to watch what you are doing out there.

Anyhow, just days before leaving on our grand holiday, we saw a house and barn near Rochechouart, being sold by our favourite agent John. The house was three beds and done, the barn big and sound and the garden adequate. Unfortunately, the house was attached to two other cottages in need of renovation and a barn, which the vendors intended to keep. Not interested. It was too close and made the house feel hemmed in. Then John said they might actually want to sell the lot. OK now interested! That would give us two Gites for income and plenty of space for studios for our hobbies and craft. He said he get us a price.

He did. Two hours before setting off to the airport. We couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity, made an offer. It was accepted half an hour before boarding the plane, on condition we gave them a deposit straight away. No bank details, no nothing with us, I managed to make some calls from London and scrape together enough to satisfy and the funds were transferred via a currency dealer whilst we were in Mauritius.

On our return a month later, we all met in the notaire’s office and signed the Compromis de Vente, a document that sets out what’s being bought and once the cooling off period has passed, is a binding contact. We sign the final ‘acte’ before 31st August and then the place will be ours.

So what have we bought? In the hamlet of La Besse (or Labesse), just off the D10 ten minutes for Rochechouart, we have bought a fully renovated three bed house, with big windows, oak floors, beams and a wood burner together with two cottages (gites) to renovate and two very large barns, together with about half-an-acre of land. The house gites and one barn are together in a long terrace, whilst the second barn and the land are across the road. There is also a decent bread oven at the bottom of the garden. It ticks all the right boxes.

The two cottages are fairly compact but so full of character. They’ll be about 250 years old with huge beams running through them. One has floors, the other needs starting from scratch. I hope to get both done over the winter, but we’ll see. Certainly one will be! The end barn started out life as a house and could be 400 years old. Anyway, check out the photos.

More later, I need to get this posted.

Zaragoza

We had a really good, easy drive to Zaragoza. With a lunch break it took us eight hours, travelling through the heart of Spain. As we got closer to the Pyrenees, the landscape became less arid and more verdant with the famous plians of Spain stretching as far as the eye could see, a patchwork of earthy colours. It also got colder and we were pretty much on the snow line, with snow-dusted hills and mountains all around us. TomTom the satnav directed us perfectly to the site, although the pace of development in this suburb of Zaragoza is so fast the mapping is well out of date with new roads everywhere.

The municipal camping at Zaragoza is brand new, not even a year old. When it matures it will be a nice place with excellent facilities. It borders a canal which was ideal for Pooch walking. Unfortunately, it was designed by the municipal architects, none of whom were aware of what a tent looks like, let alone a caravan, or dare I say it, a motorhome. They designed and built a very impressive reception building with a narrow driveway to approach it, then a neat 90deg turn into the camping. Even moderately sized units would struggle to get in, let alone anything our size. Fortunately Alberto, the amazingly helpful chap on reception, let us in through the service gate. It was through this gate we had to reverse out of to leave two days later; no room to swing round going forwards! Our pitch is the biggest I’ve ever seen. We could have got four Rvs on easily and I reversed on to pitch with the MINI on the trailer! It was that big.

Tired, we ate, played Scrabble and went to bed early. Following morning I decided I’d like a look at Zaragoza. I had seen the website and there appeared to be plenty of history and interesting architecture to look at. The city map I picked up in reception had lots of landmarks on it, so my curiosity was piqued. We took the no 41 bus into town which dropped us at landmark #1, La Puerta Carmen. This was the gateway to the ancient city; it’s interesting to think that the city has grown so big it took half an hour to get from the outskirts on the bus. And as the bus driver thought he was Fernando Alonso, that’s quite a long way!

Next was the old medical university which has statues of the four founding fathers sat outside the front doors. Other than that it was a fairly plain brick building. From here we wandered down the Paseo de la Independencia, Zaragoza’s main drag, sheltering from the cutting breeze. It was a tad chill, especially after La Manga. We stopped at a café bar for a cup of tea. The place was buzzing. It was a long, slim café, with a long slim bar running halfway down the right hand wall. On the bar were display cabinets with delicious looking pastires and other goodies, many featuring chocolate. There was a range of teas and coffees to be had and the wall behind the bar had two shelves crammed with every alcoholic beverage known to man! In front of the bar were tables and chairs and at the bar were stools. Now, something we learnt whilst in Spain is this. If you want an idea of how good a bar is, just look at the floor under the stools. If it’s covered in litter, then the bar must be popular, therefore it must be good. It’s the done thing to throw your sugar wrappers, fag ends and any other bits of detritus from your sojourn at the bar on to the floor. And the floor only gets swept at night, after closing. The rest of the place can, and most invariably will be, spotless as was this café was. Something about this practice makes me smile – it seems so right somehow!

Warmed through, we went to a tourist info office, got what we needed there and headed off into the old town to see the sights. First off, the Roman amphitheatre. It was closed, so no close looks but it could clearly be seen from the street. It is covered by an impressive glass roof. There’s about half of it left and it looks as though it was well interpreted. From there we headed for the Basillica del Pilar. This is a huge building, about the size of York minster. Inside there is a main altar with an impressive carved stone altar piece and a smaller chapel behind it where there was a service being held. Marble and gold leaf was very much in evidence. The ceilings were created by Goya and there’s a museum holding some of the original sketches. The archiructure is impressive as are all the frills and furbelloes, but despite the service taking place, the place is now so much of an attraction I didn’t feel too much of a sense of spiritualism. Or maybe I was just feeling that side out. We visited a tiny, run down chapel which had a great feel to it, so maybe not.

The square outside the Basillica has been reworked and is a vast open space with the La Seo church and tower at one end and a very fine water feature at the other. From this, we walked towards the Palacio de la Aljeferia, the one and only Moorish palace in this part of Northern Spain. It was closing for lunch by the time we got there, so we went in search of some ourselves. We chose a restaurant which looked OK and had a nice sounding, if a little more expensive, menu. What a bloody disaster. The food was awful and we didn’t have the language to complain, although the fact we didn’t eat much of it spoke volumes. They still charged us for it even though I said it had been bad. Maybe I should have just refused?

We wandered back to the palace but it was still closed, so we had a walk around the perimeter. It is surrounded by a big, deep moat and the front is typically Moorish in design. The rear was obviously remodelled at some time and two thirds of the whole building appears to be offices. I took some photos ( not easy to do with all the cars and trucks parked outside) and then we decided to head back for the bus.
So far, I’ve painted a fairly neutral picture of Zaragoza but I was really disappointed with the place. It has no sense of history. There are these wonderful landmark buildings but for the most part the rest of the city is new and redeveloped and there seems to be no tangible link between old and new, no historical time line. The only narrow backstreets we came across had been modernised and also had a menacing feel to them. It felt as though it was a new city with some old buildings put in it for effect. It was a shame really as for me, it promised much and delivered little. I’m glad I went to satisfy my curiosity, but it wasn’t worth it.

Floozie2 the TV star

We got away from La Manga this morning having fixed the errant valve that was stopping the air suspension from rising. Floozie2 got a wash, Pixie the MINI was put on her trailer and washed, then had her cover put on and we went to bed for an early night. The alarm went at 7am on Amanda's digital alarm clock, yet the rest of the clocks said 6. Huh? So we sat in bed with a cup of tea thinking we were an hour early and the clock had had a dicky fit, then got organised and were off by 7-30. Or so we thought. In fact Amanda's clock was right and had automatically adjusted itself for daylight saving. It was in fact 8-30!! Non the less, it was a good early start for our eight hour plus journey today.

We set off in rain, which gave way to cloud, then bright patches until by the time we got to Zaragoza, it was lovely and sunny. It was a really good run and the the closer we get to the Pyrenees, the more attractive the landscape becomes. Wide open, patchwork plains of green and burnt umber bordered by hills and mountains still dusted with the last of this winter's snow. Quite dramatic at times.

We arrived at Zaragoza by 4.30pm and found the campsite easily. It's brand spanking new and showed great promise on its internet website. And it lives up to it....apart from one wee flaw. The camping is spacious, well laid out with lovely big pitches and wide access roads. But for some reason they designed the place with the most awkward and narrow entrance that even some fair sized caravan units would struggle to get in. There's also an overhanging roof on the reception which is aleady bearing the scars of missed attempts at getting in. However, the nice lad on reception said we could go in through another set of service gates. When we got to them, he was there waiting, along with a roving news reporting team for TV in Barcelona - or so they told us. Amanda reckons they were 'kids' doing a college project but they looked too old for that. Or has Amanda now got to the age where anyone under thirty is a 'kid'? I guess I shall have to ask when I pay up tomorrow. Anyway, they filmed us coming on to site, driving through, reversing on to pitch with the trailer on (not the best bit of reversing I've done - typical!) and then a poke around inside. They had fun, bone fide or not.

So as the sun goes down, we're both writing away and enjoying the peace and quiet of the site. Depending on how we feel tomorrow, we shall either get on our way or take a stroll into Zaragoza for the day. Apparently it has a lot of history and is quite pretty, so maybe something we shouldn't miss.

Another Floozie2 drama!

Aha! Yet again the best laid plans of mice and men have been sent awry. We were due to set off for France yesterday (Friday) morning, so on the Thursday afternoon we got all packed up and then started to move Floozie2 to another pitch near the exit ready for an early get-away the following day. It soon became apparent that the air suspension wouldn’t rise. It wasn’t long before there was a group gathered around trying to work out what was happening. We tried one or two solutions, only they weren’t. A call to Winnebago in the UK suggested taking it for a run; that sometimes released whatever valve was stuck. Only it didn’t and it was an eventful trip up and down the site with no air in the bags. It was something like Skippy on a boneshaker. So on Thursday evening we plonked her on a pitch, I had a shower and we went around to Mick and Ann’s for a drink and a chat about the next step. As it happens, it was from this delightful couple that we bought Rowleth End; they went on the road after they sold up the same way we did. Mick is a champion fixer with RVs and an amazing fount of knowledge, so he was the first person I went to.
Friday morning, early ( well early-ish) we were under the motorhome trying to work things out. We kept calling Dudleys in the UK and Chris was able to give me information on where to look. We tried everything; still nothing. Then another great chap called Godfrey suggested we called Freightliner (the chassis manufacturer) on Skype. So we did via Godfrey’s computer. I spoke to a chap called Marcus who just couldn’t have been more helpful and suggested some things. We also gleaned a scematic drawing from him, which was sent by email ten minutes later. Now we know what we’re dealing with it makes it so much easier to work out what’s wrong and it would appear to be a solenoid valve which is faulty and not giving the signal to the suspension to rise. So today we’ll have a much closer look at this valve and try and sort it out. With any luck we might be able to free it off and we’ll be away on Sunday. If not we’ll be here for, well who knows how long whilst a spare is sent out. Unless of course we fix it. With the amount of knowledge and talent that abounds on this site, I’m sure we will!

New Photos

Click the link on the right

A much needed update!

The last two months have just flown by and I’m sorry that the blog’s been a bit dry, or to be precise, missing! There’s an old song called ‘Busy doing Nothing” and that about sums up our activities in that time. Life here at La Manga has been deliciously lazy. We have done very little except walk Pooch, shop for groceries, eat out a bit and socialise on site. Oh and started dance classes, but more of that later!

We’ll start with the camping here. Caravanning La Manga is big; very big. There must be in excess of 1500 pitches of which a good number now have permanent and in some cases pretty amazing constructions on them. During the winter just about all the touring pitches are taken up by Brits, Germans, Dutch and a surprising number of Swedes, all escaping the bad weather in their respective countries. It’s all very convivial. The Germans have their areas, the Brits and Swedes the same. Our little area appears to be Little Yorkshire as most of our neighbours are from God’s own county. A good number of these folks stay here six months, from October until April, before heading home. Some are always off doing something, others just laze around enjoying the sun, others (mostly the Brits I’m afraid) stands around griping about the weather, their latest ailments or anything else that comes to mind. At times I can’t help but think that they are in a much nicer place than the UK to spend a winter but unfortunately they just bring the same attitude as they have there for a sunny holiday here. They don’t seem to appreciate how much better off they are here. Or is it just the Brit’s favourite pastime; to moan. As I am doing right now! Needless to say we try and avoid these people. At the other end of the spectrum, we have made so friends whilst here, of all nationalities, so more people to visit on our travels!

Twice or three times a day we take Pooch for a mooch around the site and down to the beach. It’s about half-a-mile long this site and we are situated right at the very top. So we’d wander down, chatting to other campers as we go, to the sea and then have a coffee at the bar on the beach. Sometimes we’d have tapas for breakfast. Well, technically brunch by the time we get there. Early rising has not been on the agenda for a little while! They do good Tapas there and a really tasty tortilla patatas (potato omelette). Sat in the warm sun, overlooking the Mar Menor is just bliss.

The caravanning here is sat in a little oasis of green. There are fields to the left and right and a small national park to the rear, so it feels to be in a rural setting. Cabo de Palos is nearby. Once a small fishing village, it’s now a marina with apartments around it. It has a promenade with restaurants on it and is really quite attractive. The coastline from here heading South West is quite dramatic, especially as the sun goes down. After that, in all honesty, the area leaves us cold. It’s pleasant enough and far better than the nearby costa resorts, but everything is relatively new-build developments and just not attractive. Torrevieja, just up the coast is abysmal. Just not our cup of tea at all. There’s no architecture, just concrete. There’s graffiti everywhere and everywhere is scruffy and unkempt. As I keep saying, it not aesthetically pleasing and I’m afraid I like things that look nice! Like France. In fact, we want to be back in France so badly, we’re leaving early to catch the spring there, so this really is my first and last blog from here.

One of the things we do like around here is the fresh food. The markets are teeming with produce from the area and we regularly see the pickers harvesting crops in the fields. Interestingly, once the farmer has harvested, he will allow you to go and pick what was rejected. Normally there’s precious little wrong with the stuff; just not quite perfect enough for the supermarkets. So it’s quite easy to live off the land here if you want! At the markets, produce is pretty cheap. Just yesterday I got a pile of tomatoes, potatoes, aubergines, peppers, chard and lemons, all from the area, and all for about 7 Euros. Keep us going for ages! The market at Cabo is on a Sunday and generally packed. Tuesday is La Union, about 10 miles away. Pretty big again, but not the same amount of food; more clothes and knock-off DVDs. There is however a fantastic fishmongers in the town and watching the ladies in there is a treat. All the fish is wild as far as I can make out and I just love it. There’s a really lively atmosphere in there.

Cartagena is the nearest big town. It has a fairly nice Marina and some interesting historical buildings, including a Roman Amphitheatre that is now an open air modern equivalent. After that……….. I was back in the car and on my way home within two hours – including lunch.

Interestingly, in the advent of the Spanish Civil War, the authorities built two gun emplacements to protect the port. These are on the cliffs at Portman and Mazzaron and the guns are still there. They are huge and it’s possible to poke around inside at the workings if, of course, you remember to take a torch. Which I didn’t! See the photos!. There are some brilliant views from up here too and you can see the dominant position these guns had. They could lob a shell over 18 km, but were never fired in anger.

I was just going to finish off but realised I haven’t written about our ballroom dancing classes. Amanda wanted to learn to dance and as luck would have it, advertised on site were dancing classes with Heidi. So we went along to meet Heidi, a lovely German woman and a great dancer. Unfortunately only one other couple turned up, which wasn’t worth her while continuing. But she asked if we’d like to join her German group in Torrevieja. We said yes, even though it’s a good ¾ hour drive away. It was a good move. We’ve had so much fun, the group is delightful and all we do is laugh. Oh, and learn to dance. We have got the rudiments of the cha cha, jive, rhumba, tango (our favourite) and quickstep. The waltz still befuddles me. We’ve had eight lessons and this week will be our last, sadly. We will have to practice and find a dance club where ever we go. I also proved to Amanda that I don’t have two left feet and I do have a sense of rhythm (Mrs Wilmore!!).

The other thing to mention, which is of great importance, is Amanda’s new hobby – jewellery making. She is very good at it and I’m not the only one to say so. She did a craft fair in February and had a lot of positive feedback and sold half what she had made. Then someone tracked her down to buy more and commission some pieces. She’s very quietly made up about it and I’m very proud of her! See the photos on the link!

All in all we have had a great time here, we’ve met some lovely people and made new friends. Although the landscape isn’t to our liking the sun and the atmosphere on the camping is. Will we come back? Possibly, but this lifestyle of ours tends to lead us off at tangents so who knows. I would certainly be happy to do so.

A very late update

A much belated addition to the blog, so I apologise for the late sentiment! More to come soon!!!

Happy New Year! We wish you health, wealth and happiness for 2009.

Our new year was a lot better than Christmas! For a start, Amanda wasn’t in hospital and was getting better daily. We were going to a big dinner dance in Seefeld to see the new year in, but Amanda wasn’t quite up to that so we stayed in and cooked for ourselves, watching two movies between courses. What a life!

At the stroke of midnight, Seefeld erupted in a barrage of fireworks. We reckon every hotel in the town had some, and it was a great display. We joined our fellow campers outside and watched for a good half hour. Pooch, of course, was not amused and worked himself up into a frenzy poor lad. Funny though, if we waved a treat infront of his face, all went quiet. He is an inveterate cupboard lover!

On the Sunday after the New Year, our good friends Giles and Jilly flew out and joined us in Seefeld for a few days. As always their company was easy and entertaining, which is one of the reasons we love them so much. Determined to spend as much time as possible on the slopes, they did the Rosshutte and the, oh heck, can’t remember what it’s called now! And the bit opposite our van. We enjoyed lunches together at the Birkenlift café and restaurant in the warm sunshine.

OLYMPIC BOBSLEIGH CHAMPIONS

Giles had not been in town long before his eye alighted on the opportunity to go on the Olympic bobsleigh run in Innsbruck. Needless to say I didn’t need any persuasion on the idea and the girls were adamant that no amount would have them getting into one. So, clutching our tickets in hand, we went to where the bobs came to a halt at the end of their run where we were loaded, together with a bobsleigh, into a truck, which hurtled us up an icy track to the start. It turned out to be the scariest part of the whole experience as we stood, holding tightly to whatever part of the truck we could for support!

At the start of the run, five of us were packed into the bobsleigh, Giles at the back and me in the middle. I managed to cause havoc (as usual) when I decided to take my glasses off as they were steaming up – just as they were preparing to shove us off down the track. It was so tight in there I couldn’t find a safe place to put them! Anyway, after a short delay, we were off. It’s 1.2 km long, the run. It took 43.23 seconds to complete. That’s about 80mph. On ice. With lots of curves! The sensations were amazing; the speed and the closeness of the ice, the G-force as we hit the corners and especially as we went through the chicane. It was quite brutal and truly exhillerating. And over all too soon, sadly. I could have gone up again, but at €30 a pop, decided against it. I did however decide that it was one of those, been there, got the T-shirt times, so promptly bought one. I’m proudly wearing it as I write. Giles was as entranced by the run as I was, although at the end he felt himself trying to duck as we raced under the tarpaulins. He’s a very tall bloke and suck out a bit more than most from the top of the bobsleigh. Unfortunately, we don’t have any photographic evidence of our achievement. The organisers don’t do any official pictures and not only did the girls not want to venture out in the bob, they didn’t want to venture out into the cold to take photographs. So we only have our memories of this little adventure.

Five days went by all too quickly and soon were were saying our goodbyes. We always feel down for a while when we part company from G&J and this time was no different.

A SMALL DETOUR

We planned to leave Seefeld on the 14th January but two days before we got a call from Hans-Peter and Uli. We’re staying on a campsite close by, would you like to join us? So we did, in a place called Grän. Still in Austria it was Floozie2 two-hour drive away. Lovely to see H-P and Uli again and as usual, Pooch was spoiled rotten! The area is quite lovely. It’s sort of a plateau region, with steep, twist roads on all approaches. Grän is a largish village with some downhill skiing and a lot of cross-country. The site was nice with a terrific swimming pool and sanitation block. Best I’ve seen yet. Unfortunately, the owners were a bit sour-faced and not really suited to hospitality. Apparently when Uli book us on, they weren’t too keen on such a big motorhome and made the fact known. As it happens, the pitch size was more than adequate although access was trick – a bit of shunting back and forth was called for. I drew quite a crowd whilst negotiating 16m of home and trailer onto pitch in the snow! It wasn’t too much trouble getting on and no trouble getting back off again, so we would have considered going back. If it wasn’t for the owner’s attitude. From what I could see, it didn’t just extend to us. They were po faced with everyone. I tried to engage them but gave up in the end. They don’t deserve their loyal clientele.

We had a lovely time with our favourite Swiss couple, altogether to short for a couple of reasons. First Amanda is still suffering from her Christmas illness and was on a second dose of antibiotics. The doctor told her the cold probably wasn’t doing it much good either. So she was desperate to start heading for warmer climes. Secondly, I wanted to get the oil in the gearbox changed. The stuff in there was burnt and possibly holding a bit of water from the burning process. Hans-Peter to the rescue. He arranged an appointment in Shaffhausen at a truck repair workshop to have it done for the Friday afternoon.

A JOURNEY FROM AUSTRIA TO SPAIN

We left on the Thursday and overnighted at a truck stop near Lake Constance before heading down for our appointment. Never let it be said a job should be simple. The manual states 10litres of oil for the gearbox. Nope, way too much. Drain some off. Whoops too much, top it up, whoops too much, drain some off. Ah! Done. A half hour job – 2 hours. And some sour faces again, from the boss man. Hmmmm.

At four in the afternoon we set off again. H-P suggested the Rheinfall car park just off the motorway as an overnight halt, which we did. For some reason I didn’t sleep well. Amanda was beginning to breathe easier with her new round of antibiotics so had a better night. We got off before none the following morning and were about an hour and a half into the journey when Rene (H-P and Uli’s son) rang. He was at the Rheinfall hoping to meet up with us and we weren’t early birds usually were we? No, we’re not and we were sad not to see him. Possibly the last opportunity for a while as he flies to Hong Kong to start a new job next month for four years.

We stopped at a motorway service station for breakfast. For all you operators in the UK (save Tebay on the M6) take note and learn! Everything but everything was freshly made. There were piles of fresh fruit and veg on display very much like market stalls, as well as cheeses, deli meats, bakery, coffee & tea. Fruit juice was freshly squeezed, omelettes, rosti, and lots of cheerful, friendly staff to help. We sat eating our delicious breakfast saying ‘this is just great’!
We drove on in alternating fog and sun until we popped out of Switzerland and into France. By four o’clock, we’d done enough and I’d found a nice little Aire at Nantua. Pulling off the motorway there was a nice motorway stop-over, so we decided to stop there instead – so much easier with Floozie and the trailer.

After a peaceful night we set off again, around Lyon and down the A7 toll motorway. The tolls are pretty hefty with a rig our size, but it all balances out on fuel consumption and the time (and stress) gained (lost!) on taking the N roads and missing out the towns. Before we knew it we were on the Aire at Leucate Plage. Now this is a secret OK, so no blabbing but Leucate Plage Aire is brilliant. It’s a huge area right by the beach with a motorhome service station and, if you want to pay for it, electricity. We arrived and immediately said, we’re staying two nights here! It was sunny and quite warm and we were surrounded by about two dozen other units, all of whom already knew the secret. That’s just enough, so keep it to yourself

A day of walking the beaches, a walk to Leucate village for a coffee and cake in a terrific little boulangerie and cleaning the van and the car was great for the soul. It wasn’t best warm but it was bright and sunny and gentle. Lovely!

From here we took two days to reach La Manga, driving steadily on the motorways. It was a good run and we had a nice stop-over at a very accommodating site half way down. It was fairly small and the overwintering folks were very friendly. We had a three course meal, including a bottle of wine for €8 each in the campsite bar/restaurant. If we’d had a smaller unit, we might have considered staying!

And so we arrived at La Manga and we’re here for two months of sun, sea and oh, what’s that other word beginning with ‘S’? Judging by the demographic of the winter snowbirds here, Sanatogen! More or La Manga soon.

A little video from Seefeld when our friends Giles and Jilly were with us just into the new year. A fine time had by all!

PS if you like the music, it's from Jools Holland's Small World, Big Band album. Buy it, it's great!!

A quick Update

Just a quick update here as I'm running out of internet time!

First off, amanda is much much better and now raring to get to Spain. The infection has more or less gone now and sh'e just looking forward to being in warmer climes. We leave Seefeld tomorrow after a great time (more later)and with a stayover with Hans-Peter and Uli for a few days will be making our way to the Costa Calida.

Cheers for now!

Amanda in Hospital for Christmas

The perfect start to our Christmas swiftly took a turn for the worse. Having returned from the carols in the square, we had a midnight feast and went to bed. Amanda suddenly announced ‘My nose is bleeding’ which started a chain of events that led to an ambulance ride to Innsbruck hospital, a 4am session with a specialist in the Ear, Nose and Throat department and a five night stay for treatment.

The nose bleed wouldn’t stop and it was fairly gushing out. I called the paramedics and they were with us in less than ten minutes (I later learned that in Austria, every person is within 15 minutes of a paramedic by one means or another). We were taken to the hospital and en-route the paramedics arranged for the ENT specialist to be there on arrival. A good half-hour later, the specialist said that she had stopped the bleeding but was admitting Amanda for observation. She had had a number of places cortorized and now had two balloons inflated up her nostrils with the ends of the tubes taped to head forehead and a wad of gauze taped under her nostrils. Poor lass did not look a pretty sight.

The brilliant young paramedics, both in their early twenties, took their leave having waited to take Amanda back to Seefeld. I couldn’t travel with them as if they had another call out on the way home, they’d have to turf me out! Understandable, although bless them they were very apologetic. So at 5 in the morning I set about looking for a taxi. One turned up at the hospital fairly soon and a nice Turkish chap brought me back to Seefeld. I left my hat and gloves in his car.

After a couple of hours not sleeping, I organized myself to go back to Innsbruck with some bits and pieces of kit for Amanda. Having decided not to use Pixie (the car) she was still on her trailer, so with the help of Gerhard from the camping, we got her sorted and I was soon in the hospital again. Poor Amanda was looking poorly and running a slight fever. The cough she had was still bad, mainly because she was having to breathe through her mouth. The upside was the staff there were looking after her brilliantly and the woman in the next bed had taken Amanda under her wing. The tubes came out after 24 hours and the bleeding had more or less stopped, but they decided to keep her another night. The following day they started to tackle the obvious congestion she had. After the fourth night they deemed her fit to come home, packed off with allsorts of de-congestants and antibiotics.

Although never really told what was going on (you know what specialists and doctors are like!) we presume that Amanda had developed a severe infection that had caused some sort of rupture in her nose. All very unpleasant. It’s New Year’s Eve and she’s a lot better now, though not up to the Gala dinner dance we had planned to go to this evening. So we’ll be making our own dinner and having a quiet night in – until the fireworks, when Pooch will be going ballistic. But that’s another story.

And finally, as a small aside, whilst sorting out the nose bleeding, the specialist discovered a small hole in Amanda’s septum. After all these years together I never realised she had a coke habit!!

Christmas in Seefeld

It’s Christmas Eve! And we’re sat in a very cosy motorhome, dinner is cooking and we’re watching the totally wonderful film ‘Polar Express’ and feeling very festive. Tonight is Weihnachten here in Austria, which is when Christmas is celebrated rather than tomorrow, as it would be in the UK. In Seefeld tonight there is Christmas market and there’s plenty of Gluhwein and traditional foods to be had. The locals will be having a big family meal with, I’m told, lots of alcohol and then they’ll be opening their Christmas gifts. It sounds great, so we’ll probably do the same! There’s quite some snow around so we will definitely be having a white Christmas.

There was some question as to whether we’d actually get here and the past week or two hasn’t been without its stresses. Just before we set out we learnt that a new directive had been put in place in Austria that all vehicles over 7.5t should have snow tyres fitted and carry snow chains. After some consideration we decided we’d risk the 10km or so from the German border to Seefeld; the road is always clear so snow wasn’t an issue. The journey from Calais to Seefeld is all motorway except the last 30 miles, so that bit was easy. We managed it in four days with a stop-over with our friends the Schluechtermanns in Neckargemund

It was lovely to see them again and we had a lovely, if not far too brief, stay with them. We went to a concert on the evening we arrived (Saturday) where a number of Ingo’s choirs were singing at the Christmas ‘do’ of a nearby village. It was just brilliant! The hall was laid out with long trestle tables (very German!), the ceiling was covered in bright white fairy lights and there was table service for food and drink. We met some new people as well as some we had met in the summer. There was fun and chat and food and drink and kids running around – great! The concert was good. Ingo is quite obviously a good tutor and conductor as the choirs, from kids (Nelly and Emily in that one) to pensioners were very good. After the singing there were three short sketches that, even though we didn’t understand what was being said, was very funny just by the mannerisms.

At the end came the big raffle. In actual fact there were two: one a tombola type of affair with a huge array of prizes donated by local businesses, then the big one, with some fabulous prizes to be won. In the tombola, Amanda won a bottle of wine and some sort of smelly bathroom bag and the Schluechtermanns were piling up the prizes! Then came the big draw. Emily, the youngest girl, was one of three ticket pickers and actually drew one of her own numbers. Leander, who was sitting on my knee along with Mattis, went up to collect it for her, to her obvious delight. It was a great big thermos coffee maker.

The last prize was a lovely, hand made bird table. There had been one each year for the six years the event had been running and Ingo coveted it like nothing else and was quite vocal in his desire to win it, making quips and gags and entertaining the folks! He didn’t, much to his disappointment. But the man that did said he had no room, even for such a lovely thing and that seeing as how Herr Schluechtermann desperately wanted it and in light of all the stirling work he had done with the choir, he would give it to him! Ingo, delighted, gave a very nice speech of gratitude over the PA system.

And that wound up the evening. We transferred the haul of goodies and children to the MPV and went home, leaving Ingo to pack up his gear. I returned in the MPV to collect him. It was 1am by the time I got to bed, but glowing from a delightful evening among friends in such a warm atmosphere. You can’t beat a good celebration!

The following morning, Amanda was feeling decidedly poorly with the cold bug she had been fighting and so didn’t join everyone for breakfast. As usual, I found myself at the children’s end of the table, as Mattis insisted I sat next to him. I love it, an that’s coming from someone who doesn’t usually like kids! After breakfast we managed to get Floozie2 out of her parking lot (quite a squeeze!) and we said our goodbyes. It had been all too short a visit and part of us didn’t want to go.

We drove on to a service area south of Munich for the night, which gave us a short hop to Seefeld the following day. I was still worked up about the new tyre regulations in Austria, worried that even when we got there, these new tyres on Floozie2 would be hopeless on the snow and ice of the camp-site and we wouldn’t actually be able to pitch & paranoid about the gearbox. It had been acting a bit funny so I had checked the oil. It showed empty. Checked for leaks – nothing apparent. It took four litres to top it up. I’m hoping that no lasting damage has been done during the miles I have already done, although fifth to fourth gear change is by no means smooth. Having just had the box fully serviced it’s all a bit disappointing. Whilst happy with the service I got in Scotland, I do wonder if the box hadn’t been filled properly. Four litres is a lot to go missing. I was beginning to think that our trip to Seefeld was extremely ill-fated and that we should be going somewhere else! But not wanting to quit, we carried nervously on. The last few miles were interesting too, as we noticed weight restriction signs for HGVs on our route into Austria. Sitting in a lay-by, wondering what to do, I saw a number of HGVs using the road and thought if they can use them, so can we. So we decided to something about these signs. We ignored them! It’s one of those times when we don’t consider ourselves to be ‘commercial’ HGV and just go for it. Looks like a number of our German friends here on the campsite thought the same way. Normal tyres on their, would you believe, bigger homes than ours!

So we got here, pitched up and got settled without any problems at all. Well, bar one. I had organised myself so we could put a gas hook-up on Floozie2. Everything connected up lovely, switched on the gas – nothing. There wasn’t enough actual gas flow coming through their pipe-work to get through the American gas regulator. So we have to rely on our own tank and no, we didn’t top up before we got here. No, we don’t learn!

ANYWAY, that’s enough of the doom and gloom. It’s Christmas and we’re here and that’s all that matters. We got here on the 22nd and the following day, yesterday, we went to Innsbruck on the train in the hopes we might just catch the last moments of the lead up to Christmas in the Old Town. And boy, did we ever! The Old town is a maze of five and six storey, C15th & C16th merchants’ houses and is all pedestrianised. There’s some wonderful architecture and painted houses and the buildings tower over narrow streets in true medieval style. At street level there’s a myriad of cute shops and cafes, designer shops and gift emporiums, all bustling with Christmas shoppers. Amanda bought a felt garland saying “Frohe Weihnachten” – (Merry Christmas) in one of them.

Then you step out into the main square and it is filled with little wooden huts selling gifts and food. Drawn inevitably towards the food, we discovered a stall selling Spätzle. Three flavours of it. Now, Spätzle is something I’ve come to love on our travels through Austria, Germany and Switzerland. It’s basically a very small dumpling (the mixture is passed through a sieve, dropping into water to cook) and it’s then treated to a sauce. Yesterday’s examples were cheese and spinach and ham. Some larger Spätzle were also fried. Unable to decide, I asked if we could have a mix of all three. With a smile and a flourish of ladles, I was presented with a huge, steaming mound of the requested trio, topped with Parmesan and fried onions – and two forks! Stood at high bar-like tables in the cold air, chomping through our delicious, warming lunch and listening to and watching everyone around us, we soon found we were wearing ear-to-ear grins!

The little wooden huts were everywhere, huddled in small pockets wherever there was space. I guess in all there were over a hundred of them selling handicrafts, both local and foreign, sweets, chocolate, pastries and Gluhwein. Lots and lots of Gluhwein! It seemed churlish not to sample some. We met Santa, wandering the streets pushing what looked like a pram. Crikey, I thought, Santa’s down on his luck. The pram, however, turned out to be a miniature barrel organ with which he entertained the kids. He also magically produced small gifts for them from underneath it, much to their delight.

Throughout the streets, hanging from windowsills, are tableaux of fairy tales; the Princess and the Frog, Little Red Riding Hood, Pinocchio and lots more. One large house had the numbers 1 to 25 in each of its windows and had transformed itself into a festive advent calendar! (Check out the latest photos on the link to the side.) There were also some huge giants standing around too; brilliant papier-mache things, very reminiscent of ‘It’s a Knock Out’. I couldn’t find out what they were all about so just enjoyed them.

After all the fresh air (and the mulled wine) the journey back on the very warm train was incredibly sleep inducing and we both nodded off. Not ideal if you want to get off at the right station!

Christmas Eve dawned bright with blue skies. The mountains look spectacular and this place is all a bit magical. Last time we were here, four – no five- years ago, the weather was different. It was a lot, lot colder for a start and there was more snow on the ground. It is so warm at the moment, there’s a bit of a thaw on. Last time, we were never out of ski pants and jackets, hats and gloves, where as now, if we’re walking it’s almost too warm to have a coat on. Climate change?? If so, it’s the only thing that has changed. Seefeld still has the lovely feel to it as it did five years ago and we recognise some faces from then too; Edith and her Ice Bar, the guy from whom we bought our skis. It’s all very comfortable. The beautiful people come here; there’s a lot of fur (fake I hope) and designer clothes being paraded. In fact, Seefeld has more than its fair share of designer outlets. Browsing the shops had me whistling at the price tags and the occasional, full blown Yorkshire “Bugger me” thrown in for good measure. Needless to say I won’t be adding to my wardrobe here.

We walked through the woods into town today and had a nice lunch. All the cafes and restaurants allow dogs in, so Pooch dutifully lay under our table as we scoffed soup and Spätzle. Oh how I love that stuff!

Christmas Eve and we wandered into town sometime after 11pm to catch the worshipers coming out of the church to sing Christmas songs with the Seefelder Brass Band – all four of them! They stood on a balcony three stories up overlooking the church square and played a goodly number of tunes, the only one of which I recognised as Silent Night. There were about fifty others there in the cold, still air and it was a magical affair. I brought along a small thermos of Gluhwein, which complimented the proceedings nicely. It was the perfect start to Christmas.