The Road North

The cycling caravan and peloton had moved on and so must we, it was time to head homeward, it was Tuesday and our overnight ferry from Caen - Portsmouth was on Saturday, we planned to cover the 400 miles over a few days.

Packed up and our goodbyes done to Jill who was taking a quicker route as her ferry was a couple of days earlier, we opted for a more leisurely amble back north.

Our first stop just over 3 hours away was on recommendation from my dentist (via a pre holiday 6 month check up!) a regular visitor to France he offered a few notable places of interest to visit, one place was called Oradour-Sur-Glane, around 15 miles to the west of Limoges.

Having mentioned its worthiness to Jill in a pre planning chat, she visited it and when we met up in Lac Chambon, and confirmed that it was an interesting place to visit, so that was that - we'd make it on this trip, despite the cross country route it was not too far out of our way back north.

We arrived at a the rebuilt town of Oradour-Sur-Glane next to the original town site by the River Glane.

The original town is now a nationally recognised "martyred" village preserved like it was 1944. (There are a couple in France - this is the most reknown)

On 10th June 1944, a unit of the 2nd SS Panzer Division “Das Reich” entered the village. The division had been moving north toward Normandy to fight the Allied invasion, while also carrying out brutal reprisals against suspected resistance activity in central France.

The troops ordered the villagers to assemble in the main square, supposedly for an identity check. Around 642 people were gathered – men, women, and children. The men were separated from the women and children. The men were divided into groups and taken to barns and garages, where they were machine-gunned and the buildings set on fire.

The women and children – more than 400 people – were locked inside the church. The SS set off an incendiary device, then machine-gunned and burned those who tried to escape.

In the end, almost the entire village population was killed. Only a handful survived.

After the massacre, the SS looted and burned much of Oradour. Unlike many places, the ruins of the village were never rebuilt. Charles de Gaulle later ordered it to be preserved as a memorial, a silent witness to Nazi atrocities. A new Oradour-sur-Glane was built nearby after the war.

There are many theories as to why Oradour was targeted, was it reprisal, mistaken identity, or deliberate terror, the historical consensus is that it was destroyed as a reprisal and act of terror, but the precise trigger is still in debate.

Our approach to the town which sits quietly in the french countryside was from the south, thankfully sufficient van parking was found near the entrance to the memorial village, with access via a "Centre De La Mémoire", built into the sloping hillside.

Positioned at the edge of the new village, the memorial centre is between the rebuilt town and the haunting remains of the old town of preserved ruins.

We spent a few hours taking in the exhibition, hearing of the drama unfolding of that day, survivor testimonies, including old footage in films of the original town and its people.

We then wandered amongst the ruins, the streets, the burnt out cars, seeing numerous household things, like a number of decaying old sewing machines, and walking into the church that played a huge part in the massacre was eerily quiet, bullet holes still clearly seen in the stone walls.

As our visit took place in July and the atrocity was in June, the weather would have been similar with the sun's heat and direction, feeling a sense of what it may have been like at the time we wandered around, with a feeling of disbelief and sadness for what had occurred, stillness hung in the air.

Ouradour-Sur-Glane old and new carries itself with a solemn grace, unassuming, yet commanding respect without words needing to be spoken. It is a place to visit.

For us it was time to move on, we booked a night slightly further north, arriving at Fontaine Holidays, a small campsite, in Blond (near Limoges), hosting a few touring pitches, some gîtes and bell tents all scattered around a few acres with a small fishing lake.

We arrived and were set up within 10 minutes, the sun was still out so it was chairs out, feet up, and a cold drink in hand! Our pitch was spacious, as there was only 2 other vehicles in a large field, branches from a large oak tree offering some needed shade enjoyed its game of dropping acorns randomly onto Tassie's roof.... it was not enough to make us move location.

After a peaceful night, the site's very modern shower facilities were used, and we were off on our way around 10am.

Our next stop we decided would be half way towards the northern coast, and stay in a France Passion site, the chosen FP en route was Cave De L'Aubras in Cormeray near Blois.

We arrived around 16.30 and met by a very friendly and vocal border collie, and Christelle the mother of Christophe who now runs the vineyard in a 5th generation farm business by the same family.

Christelle's english matched our french speaking abilities, however we got by and arranged to park up in the location she pointed out, at the far end of a track by the vines, and come back to the house around 19.00 for a "degustation".

Despite them having space for 4 other campervans, it was just us, Christelle being the perfect hostess and providing various wines for us to try, giving suggestions of food to pair each with. Her daughter in law joined us later for a trip around the factory area, where we were given a back stage pass of what happens to the grapes between the vines and the bottle.

45 minutes later we are walking back to Tassie having made a purchase of a case of mixed variety bottles.

It was a warm evening, we were parked next to trees, with a hedgerow on one side rows of vines on the other... Tassie's windows open, a lovely chilled evening was being had.... until the sun went down and we were under attack!!

In Scotland they have "the midge" in France we found a similar little kamikaze operator - were under attack by a plague of little flying beetles... each smaller than the average fly but they got everywhere.....

The doors and windows were firmly closed - all lights were put on and Operation "Get these little F****rs out of the van" began in swift earnest.

Carpets pulled up, floors swept, the fly screens examined, all surfaces cleaned.... 30 minutes of finding the little blighters almost everywhere.

Carpets were left outside overnight.... we would deal with them in the morning!

Once we were both satisfied there was no more stowaways ... phew it was time to relax!... with one eye still open!

The following morning, another van clean, carpets brushed, despite no sign of it every happening (was it a dream?) we were on our way!!

Saying our good byes to Christelle and doggo, we were back on the road... our next stop the Normandy Coast, I had wanted to revisit the "Standing with Giants" at the British Normandy Memorial, this year, having seen the silhouettes there last year at the 80th anniversary event.

Our final stop on the Normandy beach area would be for 2 nights at Camping De La Prairie, in Port-en-Bessin Huppain, the site we had chosen did not take online bookings, so the email that was sent the day before received a response to say that - just arrive and we will book you in!

The campsite was on the outskirts of a little coastal resort, near a supermarket and a car wash with a van gantry (which we would use before leaving).

We arrived around 13.10, the office had just closed for lunch until 14.00, two vans were already at the gates waiting, we drove in behind and formed an orderly queue.

As we had some time spare, I took a walk around the site, noting that it was a relatively small place, nicely set out (around 40 spaces) with some posh cabins as well, the facilities were clean and modern and it looked like there would be plenty of spaces available (at least 10), so our wait would not be fruitless.

We picked this site as it was close to Ver-sur-Ver where the British Memorial stands overlooking Gold Beach.

Ahead of us in the queue was also 4 bike packers waiting to check in... their heavily laden bikes propped up against a hedge, whilst they found some shade in some hammocks. Their cycle attire giving the game away!

As it got closer to 14.00, three more van arrivals parked up behind us, two of them got out of their vans and positioned themselves right outside the reception office, apparently ignoring the waiting crowd who were relaxed and generally just meandering around.

A growing sense of twitchiness became apparent.. the tension became palpable.... lots of shifting and shuffling... many glances at the 2 couples standing by the office door awaiting it to open... this was amusing.. my guess there was space for everyone. It seemed the Belgian plated vehicles were not "reading the room".

The office door open and some words were exchanged, the chastised couples slinked away and the waiting crowd were served in order!... we could all stand down.. no summit needed to keep international relations harmonious.

We settled into our pitch, side on which was novel for a change, and once settled we opted to take an amble into town.

20 minutes later we were at the dockside by the fish market which was closing for the day, a busy little fishing port, cafes, some touristy shops and on the front roped off was a coastal walkway - due to some very crumbling sandy cliffs.

The fishing port had an inner and outer harbour, a number of trawlers were moored up and kept afloat by the 1962 built lock to the inner harbour, outside at low tide the smaller crafts had to sit in the mud.

Further along the quayside was the 25m high ice tower, a forge and a number of warehouses all connected to the fishing trade.

Back at camp more campers were still arriving, for us it was BBQ and a beer.

The following morning our neighbours got off early around 7.30am and by 9.30 their spot had been taken, it turns out there is no early arrival time, you can rock up at anytime the office is open... something to consider if arriving on the overnight ferry and seeking a site for a few days and to get a late morning / early afternoon siesta!

Our final full day in France, and we took a drive out the see the Standing with Giants memorial. This time it was a warmer day, it was not possible to walk amongst the statues as we had done so the previous year, this was to protect the wildflower meadows they stood up in. Despite this it was still good to see.

On the way back to camp, Tassie got a well needed shower, the car wash gantry allows us to clean her roof, (NB these step platforms would be a winner in any UK car wash / garage forecourts!) She benefitted from the sand from the west coast and the bugs and acorns from the various campsites being cleaned away.... Tassie was spruced up, French supermarket supplies i.e Brets plus vin rouge and a few other bits purchased, and we were all were set for our trip home.

Our final night took us into town for a meal, and a wander along the quayside which was hosting a night market, and it was only then that we realised we had only eaten out twice during our trip.

That evening the choices were limited, it was Friday night and the weather was becoming inclement .. rain was on its way leading to all indoor seating areas being the preferred location in all of the restaurants, so availability without a prior reservation looked sketchy.

We settled on a french bistro serving all sorts, including moules frites, as well as cocktails and pizza. We were outside under the canopy, and just as our food arrived the heavens opened, the rain came down hard, bouncing off the pavement, thunder was deafening, it was right above us, the lightning forked like jagged streaks. The woman sitting to our outside was almost on my lap as she tried to shuffle her table further under the canopy, mainly due to trying to stay dry, but she also seemed spooked by the thunder.

Many people that had come out for the evening were underprepared, soaked to the skin, watching the doorway skipping finding shelter along the road, the night market opposite us took one of two stances - pack away like it was an emergency ... or cover everything with plastic and stand and wait it out under cover.. everything looking rather damp!

The weather allowed another cocktail to be ordered... and we departed as the clouds began to dry up.... we had managed to dodge the wet weather .. so a little win had been achieved.

The next day we took our time, our ferry was at 23.00, we left the campsite at mid day.

Our plan was to pop into Decathlon in Caen (I was taking orders and also wanted a bike mount to do some bike maintenance) and then take another little drive out to the Normandy beach memorials, stopping this time at Arromanches-Les-Bains, a place we had stopped previously as it also had an camping car aire, so parking was easy and the location over the beaches a good stop point before the ferry.

Before long it was time to head to the ferry port!

The post customs queue was uneventful, we were sandwiched between some rather big caravans and motor homes so sat patiently in our little bubble as we could not see anything all around, until it was time for us to board.

The only room available when we booked the ferry as we had to change dates was an inside twin room.... (we have previously opted for a 4), the twin room is compact and bijou to say the least!.. the upper bunk accessed by a small ladder. Jo had opted to take the top bunk (something she came to regret later). The lack of any safety bar had affected her sleep.. the drop a good 6 feet to the floor with a few mad objects of lights and night stand in the way!

Suffice to say - next time we'll be booking a 4 berth!

The dreaded early morning harp wake up call came far too early .... we had rounded the Isle of Wight and about to land at Portsmouth!Read more