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Family camping holiday touring France in an Austin Seven Summer 2018...
#71
After five days in Belves it was time to think of moving on again - we packed up, said our goodbyes to the wonderful owners and routed north passing Lascaux and and nearby Excidueill where my friend with the Rosengarts lives.

Late in the day we found ourselves near Oradour-sur-Glane, a place that I had read about.  This village has remained exactly as it was left after it was destroyed by an SS company in 1944, it is a chilling reminder of what can go wrong in the world (see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oradour-su...e_massacre).  We joined the many visitors quietly walking around the site and tried to explain to the girls what had happened there that day.

   

   

   

We spotted a campsite near by but all felt that we needed a little time to let our visit sink in so opted to continue driving a little later than normal.  After a an hour or two we chanced upon a wonderful community site on the edge of a village, the open area was just what we needed.  A few other campers quietly read and the hall nearby filled with people attending a party - the atmosphere was lovely and soon the sounds of spanish guitars could be heard, ending our evening on a high.

   

We planned to reach the Chateaux region next day so that the children could visit Chambord.
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#72
Thanks for the latest update Ruiaridh. Ive never been to Oradour sur Glane, and probably never will as I would probably find it too overwhelming. Anyone that doesnt know about it should read its story.

Lest we forget.
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#73
(29-08-2018, 08:10 AM)Reckless Rat Wrote: Thanks for the latest update Ruiaridh. Ive never been to Oradour sur Glane, and probably never will as I would probably find it too overwhelming. Anyone that doesnt know about it should read its story.

Lest we forget.

I believe you should go Reckless, I believe everybody should go. We all need a reminder from time to time of the horrors of war. I know we have it pushed in our faces on TV almost daily, but this is for everyone to see it as it was. I never regretted my 2 visits.
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#74
There are enough reminders of Nazi atrocities in the area around where I live. The sad thing about the massacre at Oradour sur Glane is that apparently the SS were acting on information regarding resistance activity but they got the wrong village. There is another one a few miles away called Oradour sur Vayres...

Anyway, moving swiftly on.
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#75
"Moving swiftly on"  -  not something that was really possible on this trip!

A few of the party-goers had set up camp in the field and appeared, bleary-eyed, just in time to wave us off.  A quick stop at the village cafe/meeting point/bakers etc. to get bread for the day ahead and we were off - Chateau-Region in our sights!

   

The steering felt strange and the car a little loose on the road, I spoke to the girls about moving about too much as the rear end seemed twitchy.  I stopped to check, all seemed well, and carried on.

Suddenly the rear tyre blew, the car lurched towards the ditch and I held on tight.  The car stopped quickly, we were not in a good place to deal with the repair and so everyone except me decanted on to the verge whilst I drove carefully along the grass edge to a driveway some 100 yds. ahead.  Even here the road was faster than I was comfortable with and, whilst working out what I might do, a lady appeared, opened the gate to her garden and ushered us in!  She brought a table, benches, offered us to stay in her caravan (if it could not be fixed) and generally was quite wonderful!  This little haven provide a space for an early lunch whilst I swapped out the tube for another.  Quite proud that I had not needed a tyre lever to  complete the job I was disheartened to find the tube did not hold air!  I set about a second change and was relieved to find the second spare did!

   

   

We thanked the lady for her help and thought how wonderful it was to meet such people in life.

A few hours later we arrived in the town of Blere, just south of Amboise - a large Brocante was on and we were able to walk around to view the remains of the stalls just before they packed up for home.  The site here was larger than most we had stayed on and, for the first time in a month, we saw UK registered cars and heard people speaking English - it felt strange and we found ourselves keeping a low profile...

4 years previous we had made friends with a German family in Roy Bridge, Scotland.  We were in our Austin Twelve and they in a 1960's Eriba Caravan.  We spent only a few days together at that time but had stayed in touch.  Their Facebook status announced that, remarkably, they were only 6 miles from us.  We exchanged messages and met the next morning for coffee.  They were heading to Northern Spain and we were able to recommend campsites and sites which they visited the next week.

From their campsite we travelled East to Blois and then the mighty Chambord.  Our last visit here was in the '29 Tourer whilst on Honeymoon, we were keen for the girls to see this remarkable place.  They were quite taken with the enormity - Daisy particularly so.  She spent a long time exploring the double staircase allegedly designed by Leonardo Da Vinci (see: https://www.pariscityvision.com/en/franc.../staircase).

   

   

   

We stayed most of the afternoon at Chambord before heading a little way up the Loire to Beaugeney where we rented a bungalow-tent for the night and met a Belgium family cycling through France and spent several hours comparing our lightweight camping gear whilst the children compared modes of transport!

   

   
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#76
Yes, Oradour leaves a powerful impression. Vassieux-en-Vercors is worth a visit too, such a tragic history.

Ruairidh, I struggle to get tyres off with levers, you must have mighty thumbs!
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#77
I used a lever to get it off but don’t like using them when it comes to fitting.
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#78
(30-08-2018, 04:08 PM)Ruairidh Dunford Wrote: I used a lever to get it off but don’t like using them when it comes to fitting.
WWRD? Mends punctures with his bare hands!
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#79
Our route from the Loire was directly north and very flat - views for the entire day were of fields, lots of fields.

   

   

The girls entertained themselves by recording a birthday song for their Uncle which took about 20 takes!



It was still very hot and by the time Vernon was reached we'd had enough and scouted for a campsite, this took a bit of finding but in the end we came across a small site up on the hill near to Monet's home.  We spent the evening with a couple from London, one of which was returning to France after 30 years. They hoped to be in his home town of Grenoble the next night - I told them that the same journey had taken us three weeks!  It was very pleasant to be with them and we have made plans to meet up in Scotland later this year.

   

Daisy was fascinated with their telescope and later Fabrice was able to show her several planets - this item is now on her ever growing "wish-list"!

Throughout the trip I had kept in touch with Nick Gifford (see: http://nickgiffordfilms.com), who lives near Le Touquet.  Nick was the man my father bought his first Austin Seven from in 1964 ( a car we still own - see: http://www.austinsevenfriends.co.uk/foru...ght=Beemee) - he is pivotal in the journey our family life has taken and I was delighted to have met him for the first time in Glasgow the previous year.  He no longer makes films but has a business (along with his son) supplying jams to very well known Hotels around the world (see: http://teatogether.com and also http://www.le-tearoom.com/about_the_giffords.html).

Nick and Judy had invited us to stay, if we were passing, and today we would be doing exactly that - they reaffirmed their invite and in contrast to the plains of the previous day we were delighted by the Normandy Alps!  

What turned out to be our last roadside picnic of the holiday...

   

Later that afternoon we arrived in the sleepy hamlet of St-Remy Au-Bois - followed signs for the Le Tearoom and eventually parked next to Nick's 1926 Citroen and stepped into the haven they call home!

   
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#80
Nick and Judy live in what can best be described as bohemian heaven - their house is crammed with artworks and old furniture.  We were given the entire upper floor to use and made very welcome indeed.

   

   

The girls enjoyed feeding the chickens, the horses and their dogs - arriving at this point I remember sitting in the courtyard and looking over at the Pearl, we had 70 miles to go but had come near enough 2500.  The car had performed incredibly well, coped with all we had thrown at it.  When undertaking such journeys there is a dread that hangs over you, at any moment it could all go horribly wrong.  Every nut and bolt was put together by me and I often visualised them whizzing around, a nagging in my head that one might let go and it would be game over.  Yet, here we were in Pas De Calais, I raised my glass towards the car - cheers!

   

The girls got to spend the day at the beach during which we lost Poppy for 10 minutes, it was absolutely terrifying. Coastguards went out on quads hunting and I eventually found her though binoculars, being led by a man towards us.  She had told him (in French) that she was Scottish and he brought her to the station - perhaps the longest 10 minutes of our life, quite a lot of tears and a family conference followed...

We needed cheering up that night and a visit to the seafood market helped!

   

The next morning we dragged our heals leaving - this was our last full day in France of the trip and I don't think any of us were ready to admit it.  We travelled through the backroads ending up north west of St Omer, my father had booked us a mobile home to stay in - we were the first occupants and had a view across the canal and into the waterways of the natural wetlands.  It was perfect for us, quiet and clean - we had a night to reflect on our trip and look at the route we had taken.

   

   

   

Next morning we left early and arrived a short while later in Calais - it took over 2 hours to get through immigration and security but we made our boat on time.  As we touched down in England there, at the side of the road, was Robert, waving - I could have cried!  He led us, with his Ulster, through busy Dover, onto the backroads of Kent and back to our tow car which he had kindly stored, along with my transporter trailer, for 5 weeks.

   
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