Early the next morning I decided to move on. I had been two days off grid and from the place I was in I couldn’t reach their electric supply. My leisure battery was completely depleted and struggling to keep the fridge on, the lights and laptop had been on half the night. So I had to move the camper anyway and once it was packed all packed up I was looking forward to seeing the rest of the gorge. All in all I was very happy with the performance of the batteries. I could have stayed another night but I am not working at the moment which means unless I’m mobile, I get very bored just sat around. I figured Mirella and her Dad probably have plans for their last day on holiday together, they have a car so can leave their caravan and drive around.
Boom!
I spent the morning over in the snack area talking to her Dad and studying the map. Trying to plot my next move. While we were sat there, there was this ear splitting crack directly above us which then disintegrated into a rolling rumbling sound. Just like thunder when its right above you. But the sky was clear blue? Then we saw the fighter jet shoot from out of a cloud just a few hundred feet above us. It was a sonic boom! Created when a pressure wave on the front of the jet is pierced by the nose as it travels above 750 mph ie, the speed at which sound travels through air. You probably have to be a man to fully appreciate how cool this is. And illegal too, over populated areas I believe!
While I was packing up the camper Mirella came over with her daughter. “Are you leaving?” she said. Was there a note of disappointment here? Oh well... too late now. I asked her how old she is. 23. Probably just as well I’m leaving really. To make matters worse Francious and Andreas appeared to be planning some kind of mini music festival / party for the solstice tonight. I swapped email addresses with Mirella (and gave her my blog address, so she will probably soon know how old I am :-). I said goodbye to everyone, but where was Francious? “In town buying some things for tonight” said Andreas. Oh dear, now I left like I was sneaking off! Well I will probably be back this way again in a few weeks so I promised to pop in again.
The drive through the rest of the gorge was just... well... only nature has the ability to stupefy me in quite this way. It was a good day too. And I wasn’t suffering from VIND this time.
When I drove out of the gorge at the other end it suddenly started feeling very Mediterranean like. The rocky hills gave way to a rolling landscape covered in Vineyards. The sun was very warm and the ground dry and dusty.
Village of Florac – Despite lovely parts like these has an otherwise desolate, feeling to it
I stopped in a town called Ales and followed the signs to centre ville. I did end up right in the narrow one way cobbled streets that seem to characterise the centre of many French towns. Everyone was sat outside cafes sipping wine while I tried to navigate my stinky vehicle amongst them. Also right in the centre was an ancient temple built of stone... a mosque I believe. The African population seems to be more evident down here.
I couldn’t find a campsite here. I’m sure there’s loads but without the DVD guide on the laptop I could find one, also it’s now 5pm so the office du tourism has just closed. So I got back to the road and carried on.
Very soon I’ll be at the Mediterranean coast. I was heading for Avignon (slightly inland) and would be there in about 40 minutes. However I didn’t want to be looking around for a campsite in a busy town at the end of the day. On route I passed a sign saying ‘Gorge du Gardon camping next right 4Km’. Ideal! I didn’t realise there was another gorge nearby. Anyway a nice out of the way campsite in amongst the vineyards! I’ll stop there for the night and drive into Avignon in the morning.
The South of France
The sea is just over there somewhere
When I arrived at the campsite I had a shock. It is packed. There are people everywhere. On deck chairs blocking the little roads that lead to the tent / motor home plots. This is most bizarre and not what I’m used to. The best campsites so far have had little more than a handful of guests. Less than 10% utilisation seems about average. This place is big and about 80% full. I asked the girl on the reception why this place was so full when you go an hour down the road (to a much more beautiful place) and there is no-one. Because this is the ‘SOUTH of France’ she looked at me like I was stupid. Now there is a distinction here which I can’t quite fathom. The Tarn gorge is also very much in the southern end of France, but it’s not considered ‘the south’. Now France has ‘regions’ and ‘departments’ but none of these are called ‘the south of france’, they have names like ‘Provence’, ‘Languedoc’ etc. So what constitutes ‘the south of France’? I suspect it’s only those southern ‘regions’ which border with the med. But if you own a campsite just 5 metres on the wrong side of the border, you won’t have any customers it seems. Apparently we are 97% genetically the same as sheep. Now sadly, that I can believe!
So I setup camp. Made a really great sausage curry...... what?. Recharged my batteries, both internal and external. And went to bed. Tomorrow I will write up the last couple days. Before continuing to Avignon.
No comments:
Post a Comment