By Ben Ade Photograph captured on a cold night in South-East England. A few nights were spent under the mighty boughs of this ancient oak tree whilst we explored the nearby coastline on foot by day. The majestic arbor was marked as a sizeable entity on maps from 1614, we learnt after chatting with a local land owner, giving a full age of well over 400 years. Many a weary traveller or gypsy family will have stopped here over the centuries I expect, we certainly found it a lovely area to spend some time and rest the wheels.
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By Ben Ade Our faithful four wheel drive vehicle proved herself once more, this time by lending a hand at the ‘Green Meadows’ music festival. Located between Cambridge and Peterborough, in the lush grounds of Elton hall, we spent around a week here, helping out and enjoying the summer festival. Winching out the mud bound revelers in between lashings of rain was the image I previously had in mind, the weather turned out to be rather lovely though and the mud never materialized much. During set up some traders got stuck and Kaerus happily winched a 7 tonne classic truck out from a field, followed by a transit van coupled to a large caravan. Some heavy maneuvering of trailers was next on the cards, among them was a 3.5 tonne mobile chippy. A huge mobile shop trailer coupled to a large van was also winched out at the end of festival, a number of battery jump starts were also needed around the site and car parks towards the end. This was really all that the organizers asked of us but we happily helped out with many other aspects of the setup and take down as it was quite enjoyable. Melissa found a 'forte' in the organising of people and traffic, becoming manager of the camper fields which she quite enjoyed. The staff, crew and organisers here were fantastic, they really couldn’t be friendlier. The festivities were also great, with a number of stages to wander around between catching bands, comedy acts and entertainers alike. Headliners included lively sets from The Stereo MC’s, ska beats from Reverend and The Makers, house sets from Danny Rampling, skilled folk musicians in the acoustic areas, along with all varieties of other bands, there was even a ‘BBC Introducing’ stage with new and upcoming acts. The days and nights here have been quite refreshing, but the time came to leave as the site slowly returns to fields and woodlands once more. Farewell was bid to new friends and neighbors before departing the green meadows and continuing North. By Ben Ade This proud vessel, which was known as 'Channel', long provided the essential shipping forecasts from out in the North sea. Now decommissioned, it has been purchased and restored by a local charity. Renamed as 'Trinity', groups of school kids visit to learn sailing and other essentials of nautical knowledge. Moored in an estuary, where the murky Thames river meets the open sea, she is no longer ocean bound. The ever present tide gently lifts her enormous weight with ease as it flows in, before setting her back down into the thick mud as it ebbs. By Ben Ade Our Dover bound Land Rover is nearing her country of origin once more. The British summer should still be in full swing, although there was actually more sunshine on the channel when we left in February. Now the cold lashings of rain drip down the grey ferry windows as we look out on this mid August day. The lands of England shall be explored for a few weeks, with a rough aim to head towards the South-Eastern coastal routes after docking. Let's see what surprises lay in store ahead. By Ben Ade Throughout this entire voyage we have learned to steer well clear of anyone driving a Dacia. Their driving ability is consistently terrifying, usually following the mantra of idiots, which sums up as 'driving fast = good driver'. We were not prepared however for a Dacia combined with a French driver. Parked in the town of Dunkirk for the evening, chatting about the days events, when out of nowhere a Dacia struck. Reversing at a surprisingly high speed, the vehicle ploughed into the rear nearside corner of Kaerus, with such a jolt that I dreaded the possible damage caused. The young lady, rather shaken, explained that she hadn't seen us somehow. Thankfully, being built like a tank, Kaerus had merely a few scratches of paint missing from her edge. The dacia however, looked a bit worse for wear with crunched in rear end and smashed back windows. We then helped her clean up the glass and ensured she was ok to drive. Very lucky that it wasn't a person she hit, a lesson to concentrate on her driving more, one can only hope.
By Melissa Shaw
What a funny prospect that two similar vessels can share a little rivalry? Canal boats and campervans share the same desire of slow travel. The only difference is one being condemned to the water, the other to land. Each living space has to be tailored to suit the needs of these long distance travellers, with many of the appliances, equipment and running gear much the same as one another. Here we are pulling into a camping-car stop that is well signposted from the main road. We later discovered that that this car park is also advertised within the Camperstop book which is well known by most overlanders and has been useful at times (Facile Media, 2015: Motorhome Guide Camperstop Europe). It is situated along a canal and popular mooring area for boats. The canal services offer hot running showers, toilets cubicles, a wifi connection and piped running water. Perfect for a freshen up! Of course only if you have a mooring, and with a boat. Damn! Many boat owners peered over with curiosity at our 'propeller like' tow bar cap, scratching their heads wondering if we are actually amphibious. As we admired the collection of big and small boats, some in the water and some out we met a lovely couple Sandra and Dave from our home country. They kindly offered us a chance to use their mooring advantage to use the splendid facilities. Including the use of their water tap, which otherwise camping-cars have to pay per litre. Later we enjoyed the couple's company on their boat as we 'chin wagged' late into the evening about all things, boats, land rovers, past/present and future adventures, their keen cycling and camping expeditions and our of course our families back home. We also had the pleasure of a tour around their very cosy and spacious boat, that gently rocked us from side to side on the canal. This brought many fond memories flooding back, as I remember when my Grandad owned a beautiful narrow boat, called Jolene. My sister and I spent many summer vacations touring the canals and rivers of Yorkshire, operating the locks, driving the boat, and meeting lots of other fellow boat owners pottering along the water ways. I recall, 'Rosie and Jim' was also a favourite television program for us to watch. The two rag dolls would also enjoy the experience of slow travel and exploring the different scenery and mooring stops along their travels. We too had Rosie and Jim rag dolls, which would sit comfortably in a wicker chair at the entrance of the boat. Saying our farewells in the morning, as they puttered off in one direction along the water ways, we filled up the water tank using their tap (much to some other boat owners disgust as many resent camper vans being near the moorings) before leaving on land in the other direction. By Ben Ade
In order to give France a reasonably good explore we stayed for 3 weeks this time. Seeing much of the South and Central areas rather than the Western counties which were seen a few months back. Quite a challenge for our chosen form of travel, due to the obvious lack of wild spaces and intensive land development throughout. The challenge was happily accepted and completed with success however. An old railway from Paris to Montceau was one place we found to stop for a few days. This line remains open but has been replaced by a faster line elsewhere so has sat dormant for many years. An overgrown service track leading through woods took us next to the rails and a peaceful spot, a storm was a brewing but the rain was still holding off. Deep within these beautiful woodlands we found an old log cabin structure, so well overgrown that we had already walked past it twice without spotting it! Hacking through the thick undergrowth and forming a path in, we entered the mystery structure. The most recent of many signatures found scrawled onto its walls were from 1993. Although much was rotten, the roof remained pretty well sealed, which was handy as the heavens now opened with force. The Land Rover makes bonny shelter from rain, but this forgotten cabin gave us loads of dry space to shelter and cook meals, maybe even enough room to swing a proverbial cat. These storms hung around, on another evening, further up the country, we experienced gale force winds, thunder/lightning and days of extreme rain. The roof tent puts up with it just fine, but it felt a bit like that film 'The Perfect Storm', as we watched mother nature have a major tantrum from the ship's porthole (bedroom window), swaying us around quite dramatically for many hours. Another nice area we visited was Cluny, this entire area long held a complete ban on violence of any kind, a few centuries ago. No firearms, weapons or violent behaviour were permitted. The ruling monks of the day expelled all who disobeyed. A great idea, monks seemed quite forward thinking and productive in centuries past, perhaps before they were distracted by brewing 'Buckfast' and similar drinks to pass time (for those who dont know, Buckfast is brewed for profit by monks in an English abbey, with very high caffeine content, strong alcohol, brown coloration and a taste to put hairs where you aint got 'em). Much time was also spent in and exploring six of the many national parks spread around the country and visible on the maps. France was possibly absent at the meeting which defined the concept and requirements of a national/natural park it seems. Nature aside, we found some areas to stop within or near these parks, using not a small dash of improvisation, as they are marginally less populated than other free camping options here. 'Kebab - A - Cheval', read the menu board inside a wee kebab shop in a sleepy town below Lyon, lunchtime and a junk food craving combined to bring us in here. There was also 'Steak - A Cheval', but this was considerably more expensive than said kebab. Many chicken, or poule, options were also available but I opted for the old horse kebab, partially out of curiosity but mainly as it was the cheapest meal on the board! The meat was quite chewy and greasy, with an inoffensive taste, edible but probably wont bother ordering that again. The talk of horse reminds me of another area we stopped in for a couple of days, the Camargue national park. Many will be familiar with the evocative images and write ups this place often receives. Herds of wild white horses, roaming the untamed salt marshes along with the pink flamingos and black bulls also famous in the area. The park itself consists of endless farms, growing Camargue rice and raising the renowned black cattle for tourist meals, along with the odd salt marsh and tourism based town. The white horses are present, but if you can find a single one which isn't branded or saddled, mostly looking very depressed and worn out, then I take my hat off to you. 'Promenade a cheval' read the endless roadside signage, each entrepreneur owning a large number of detained 'wild' horses for viewing and riding. They may even recommend a time to pay for that famous photo opportunity of horses running through the marshes, albeit them being herded back to the stables. The flamingos have been trained to feed at a 'bird sanctuary' surrounded by tall walls topped with barbed wire, rather than their native salt marshes which lie nearer the shore. You must now pay money if you wish to view these creatures, reluctant to support such an initiative we gave it a miss. Anyway, I digress, today we have found a surprisingly quiet camp. It is the rear car park of what appears to be a 'gentlemans club' of sorts, quite peaceful as its closed tonight. You just never know where the open road will take you, or leave you. By Melissa Shaw Leaving the humid marsh lands of the Camargue region, we are now northbound throughout the rest of France. Italy and Switzerland are only a small jump across the mountains from here. We will now explore the large farming areas and potential wild spaces of Provence.
"Private Property and Access Interdit" signposts are littered at every corner, field, fence and access point . Despite this tricky predicament, we managed to find an under used area alongside a quiet narrow road. It appears that our new garden of the evening could have been a turning point used by the forestry and farmers as well as a new stopping point for tourists to look out towards the lavender fields. After a little exploration we then found a much more private corner of ground just behind our current spot, that tucked us away from the hundreds of faces that stare with the traffic. Perfectly manicured rows of purple lavender fields make a refreshing change to the heavily farmed crop fields that we have seen. From a distance the elongated rows seem almost 'moss like' and soft to the touch. Close up, these delicate stems host a cluster of the most powerful lavender scent I have ever smelt as it circulated the surrounding air. The sun rose gently up over the mountain at 6.30am on a calm Thursday morning. At a snails pace, we chased the sunshine towards a picturesque lavender field to capture the 'golden hour' of light upon the purple blossoms. The farmers not long behind us, set to work cutting their fields of flowers, as we observe trailers embracing tonnes of lavender stacks passing by. On our wanderings, small piles of surplus lavender lay unwanted, left behind to rot. Waste not, want not! So I gathered a small bunch together to take back to the Land Rover. Out of a piece of clean recycled t-shirt I set about stitching a simple, small bag , complete with a drawstring (that was also recycled from a found toggle and shoelace at the Sierra Nevada ski slope back in Spain). Now filled with dried lavender flowers, it hangs within the roof tent bedroom to induce a wonderful dreamy nights sleep. The stems were also not wasted and weaved into a small egg shaped basket caressing more lavender blooms and placed in front of the air vents in the cab acting as a natural air freshener. On departure of Province, we stumbled upon a town fete, where we sampled lots of local delicacies of cheese, biscuites, sausages and also looked with awe at all the tempting lavender products including wines, honeys, beers, soaps, jewellery, basket work and so much more. To our surprise there was also stood a mobile stil that was on full demonstration distilling lavender water right here on the spot. By Ben Ade
The return to central Europe brought the return of a forgotten phenomenon, 'road rage'. It seems to be a hobby within France, among the many aggressive manoeuvres encountered on this day have been a dangerous overtaking by a stout, red-faced, elderly couple with their horn blaring and middle finger protruding proudly from the sunroof. Our enjoyable, safe and economic chosen speed of around 50mph seems to enrage the suicidal loons, possibly rushing home for afternoon wine swilling sessions. I also made the mistake of giving local radio another chance, it turns out they are still big fans of James Blunt here. So much so that he has new tracks released, keeping to his trademark, castrated choir boy style. Playing havoc with bats navigational senses I expect, but also perhaps a cause of some road rage? In Morocco, you may experience all manner of crazy overtaking manoeuvres and road hazards, but there was rarely ill feeling or misplaced aggression involved, which in turn minimizes stress involved. Spain and Portugal, may have plenty of insane drivers, but they seem to lack much of the bad attitude too. It is hard to explain but makes a huge difference. Driving with a bad attitude, exuding negative energy, creates stress for other road users and, more importantly, causes accidents. I believe it may also be mirrored by the new vehicle design and marketing plans, have you noticed how all manufacturers now focus on creating aggressive presence to cars and vans, front and back? Subliminal facial recognition has long been known within vehicle design, the obvious headlamps or tail lamps linking as eyes to a face, and personality, before we even think much into it. Gone are the happy, harmless and cheery faces of past car models, a sign of the times perhaps. There really is no need for this aggression behind the wheel, let off the go pedal a bit, collect your thoughts and consider the bigger picture. By Ben Ade Not all stops can be palm trees and beaches, as we well know by now. This dirt and litter strewn lay-by was penned in by a railway one side, motorway the other and main roads on remaining sides. There were, however, a couple of grubby concrete picnic benches, sprouting from beneath the fume choked trees, suggesting a more homely look. Despite the state of the lay-by or 'aire de repos', it had plenty of tired passers by, thankful of escaping the stress ridden main roads. Before setting up we helped a stranded man jumpstart his vehicle, thanking us and praising Kaerus the Land Rover, he trundled off, whilst cursing his new Iveco 4x4 which has given him no end of trouble. We then set about the usual evenings homemaking, freshened up with hot showers and put dinner on to cook. A new Transit camper van had just parked nearby, looking to settle for the evening. Like a breath of fresh air upon the space, the four member young family began by applying a crisp white tablecloth to one of the old picnic benches. Cleaning away the surrounding litter, then sitting down to a full multi course meal with much laughter and merriment. The cheery bunch later proceeded to mark an area in the ground and play outdoor boules for the remainder of that evening. A fantastic display of showing how any open space or land really can be whatever you make of it. The following morning arrived, the happy campers had left with the sunrise and we had new neighbours who had deposited themselves in front of Kaerus throughout the night. Rather than sleeping in their battered old Vauxhall, they were lying face down on the filthy ground outside. The lady partially awoke, enough to crawl back to the car, then seemingly unknowing of our presence, began administering class A drugs for a morning boost. The weathered man began to shuffle and then rose slowly, like a bear from winters hibernation, before following his partners actions. Now regaining basic human motor control, they looked towards us with vacant and grubby faces, plotting their next movements. Eager not to be involved in any way, we quickly packed up and continued our journey, directing a friendly wave towards the pair of lost souls. |