Having finally sorted out the computer’s problems and having at last managed to send off the next chapter of the Cannyvanners Saga, it is now time to write the next one. The last week has been fairly uneventful though, in spite of us having traveled all the way from near St Malo to a little village called Plouescat which is not far from Roscoff in Brittany.
Tuesday was the highlight of the week as we spent the day in Jersey, one of the Channel Islands. And for a change, the weather was magnificent. The crossing was made on a high-speed ferry and took about an hour and a half, over flat, calm seas. When we arrived in St Helier, the main port, we made our way to the Tourist Centre and discovered that there was an all-day bus tour which we could join, which would get us back to the ferry port just in time to catch the boat back to St Malo. What a good plan that was! The bus took us all over the island, with frequent photo stops (and one for lunch) and our driver/guide was a delightful fellow who was full of facts and who had a wicked sense of humour. I’m quite sure that some of his jokes are not ones that I would attempt to tell to a bunch of complete strangers, but he son had the whole bus laughing, so perhaps he did know best.
Jersey is an amazing little island, in fact. Its three main sources of income are Finance (managing other people’s money in off-shore accounts), Tourism (like us) and Agriculture. At this last, we were amazed as the island is only 25 square miles in size which is not very big. But they do a lot in tunnels, of which there are a huge amount and they also plant potatoes in the most amazing fields. Amazing, because they are nearly vertical. The driver’s explanation was that these areas are far too steep for anything else, so the farmers work the lands by hand and plant potatoes there. Mmm! Well, I’ll take that one with a pinch of salt! But certainly a lot of potato fields were on steep hillsides, or in areas that are so close to the sea that we were surprised that anything could grow there.
We were enchanted by the numbers of wild pheasants that we saw in the fields. To me, these brightly coloured birds look as if they should only be found in the exotic bird section at a zoo, not scratching around out in the wild. Being Spring they are all sporting their best plumage and are very attractive.
After Jersey, the week quietened down as we made our way around the various peninsulas between St Malo and where we are now. We spent a wonderful night on another France Passion farm near a tiny place called Plelo. A working farm, it also has a restaurant which serves traditional Breton meals, and is obviously a place the locals bring their children to play. There is a small herd of Shetland ponies in one field and a few enormous carthorses in another, with ducks and hens completing the picture. The old farmhouse which is four stories tall, used to be a grain mill, probably a few centuries ago, and was operated by a water wheel. They have done away with the wheel, but are using the water to generate electricity and are so successful, that at times they are able to sell power to the National Grid. The farmer was very proud of his achievements and when he heard that Neels had been an Electrical Engineer, took us on a personally guided tour.
However, I am quite sure that you want to know how we are getting on in this foreign land, and not just read an account of where we’ve been. Well, some of it takes a bit of getting used to. Like ‘all-in-together’ ablution blocks. The men are always catered for first, so the first thing one is confronted with is a row of urinals, so strait-laced South Africans have to avert their eyes and walk on. Quite difficult when there is someone standing at one of them who flings a cheery ’Bonjour’ at you as you walk past. Then, having done that there is always the possibility that there will be a fellow, stripped down to his Y-fronts having a good old wash at one of the basins. Looking at your feet, you slide into a shower cubicle, shower and try to dress completely again in a space that is on average three feet square and, by now, completely saturated with shower splash. Oh to be less prudish! Then I could get half dressed and saunter over to one of the basins and finish there, where the floor is dry. Not yet though.
Then there is the driving. Neels is managing remarkably well with this driving-on-the-wrong-side-of the –road, but the road manners of the other drivers make life a whole lot easier. They are so ‘aware’. When you want to filter in to a major road, all that is necessary is to put on the left indicator. Immediately, all the occupied lanes in the mainroad will move over and allow you in. Can you believe that we haven’t heard a car hooter since we’ve been here? No-one shakes their fist in rage when someone is forced into ‘their’ lane because of road works – they all realize that the driver has to do this, and allow him in. It is quite foreign to us as South Africans, and very pleasant too.
Food. We haven’t eaten out much because we always seem to end up too far away from the restaurants in the evenings and tend to feed ourselves. But this I know – the French can’t make bread! I know they would be horrified to hear this as they invented that most desirable of all French foods, the baguette. But a baguette is only edible on the day it is baked and making sandwiches out of baguettes only ends in crumbs down your front (and everywhere else). Standard bread can be bought, but it has a bouncy feel to it when fresh off the shelf, and stays like that for ever. We currently have half a loaf which we have had for about two weeks. It is showing no signs of growing green spots, nor is it any harder than when new. It never was very tasty, but makes excellent toast!
Talking about bouncy……..we have come to the conclusion that preserved, prepared foods are definitely a cut above their South African counterparts. We have had delicious cassoulet and coq au vin out of tins; made with real meat and real vegetables and flavoured with real wine. Tinned veg are really tasty, if lacking in salt, and even packet foods such as soups are good. But to go back to the bouncy bit ………one of the things we bought was the Belgian version of Smash, in case we ran out of potatoes and the other night we decided to try it. Knowing that the South African Smash usually ends up far too ‘wet’, I only made three-quarters of the required liquid. Oh dear! Big mistake! Next time I will know that when it says 500 ml that is what I will need. It was interesting though – we could roll our mash into a sausage and cut it in slices, and I’ve never done that before. Life is full of new experiences, and travel really does broaden the mind!
Finally, the language. We are both learning more and more each day. Neels is far better than I will ever be and can have long conversations with people. I tend to learn to say things and then hope no-one replies. For instance, when several people showed a real concern at my bandaged foot, I learnt to say’ Je me suis tordu ma cheville dans le preimere semaine de la vacance’, which means ‘I twisted my ankle in the first week on the holiday’ Which was fine until they rattled off something that obviously required and answer, which was about the same time that they realized that I was a sham and really couldn’t speak French at all. Fortunately, I no longer need to say my piece about ankles, and am now teaching myself something less likely to provoke a response like ‘Isn’t it a lovely day?’ All I need is a lovely day to say it on!
Until next time, A’voir et bon chance.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
And on we go
Honfleur is a delightful town, which has developed around an old fishing harbour. In typical Continental style, the old buildings have been maintained to preserve the look of the town and it is very attractive. Tall (5 and 6 floors), narrow houses stand shoulder to shoulder right around the harbour, not all of them very straight!
It was market day on the day we visited and what a colourful event! At first we were disappointed as the stalls seemed to have nothing but cheap plastic and clothing, but as we got further into town, more and more of the local produce appeared. We tasted, and bought, some wonderful cheeses, and marveled at the shapes that various breads were twisted into.
After a lunch of mussels and ‘frites’ we took a roundabout way back to the campsite to enjoy some of the local views.
Our next night was spent at a tiny village with the impressive name of St Vaast La Hougue, a little east of Cherbourg on the Cotentin Peninsula. As we were waiting for a bank card to catch up with us by courier, we spent much of the time doing various bits and pieces of ‘maintenance’ such as laundry. During this time, Carol and Steve left us to return to the UK, so we decided that it was high time that we got ourselves a local SIM card for our phone, and with this in mind, we made for Valognes, the nearest town of any size. Here, we were directed to, of all things, a photography shop, where, we were assured, someone spoke English. Well, we’re not sure what happened to the English speaker but we got hold of a young man of about 20 who at first seemed promising, apart from his frightful adenoidal problems, but it turned out that having greeted us, he had then exhausted his English vocabulary! Then followed about an hour of very fractured French and the usual gesticulations, as once again, Neels’ French did not seem to cover the topics we needed! Also, to buy a SIM card for a cell phone involved registering us on a computer, which was another problem as we obviously do not have a French address, and the computer kept rejecting ‘Onrus River’ as a place! Eventually our young man gave us an address that the computer approved of so we now live at ‘Place de l’Eglise, Valognes’. Please don’t visit us though, we probably won’t be there!
When we finally managed to get away from St Vaast (overnight courier from Oss took four days in the end) we decided to try out one of the France Passion farms for the night. Our choice was La Turgotiere which is an apple farm producing cider, apple juice, Calvados and a wonderful concoction called Pommeau, similar to port or sherry. After tasting, we bought a bottle of cider and a bottle of Pommeau – just the thing for a cold night.
That night it started raining and got very cold and the next morning was grey and rather miserable. We had a quick walk around the farm and discovered that they kept cows, sheep, goats, pigs, horses, chickens and rabbits. A very busy farmer indeed.
Our onward journey took us past Mont St Michel, and we were very glad that we had been there twice before as the island was shrouded in mist and didn’t look at all inviting. Our second choice of farm was owned by a butcher who had nothing to offer for sale, but did give us electricity so we could watch our DVD of the Andre Rieu concert on the very small screen.
Next stop was a camp site again (time for a decent shower) near St Malo. Neels wanted to visit the hydroelectric scheme on the Rance River, which was a real mission as Jane, our Tom-tom voice, didn’t know about it and kept wanting us to turn the wrong way. We got there in the end and it was very interesting. Just that one scheme supplies 15% of France’s needs; provides a very necessary bridge across the river; and has not damaged the ecology of the estuary. Far more efficient than wind farms and far less unsightly. However, not many places have a tidal difference as great as they do here.
The weather seems to have changed for the worse with rain again today, Sunday 20th, and the forecast looking bleak for the next few days.
It was market day on the day we visited and what a colourful event! At first we were disappointed as the stalls seemed to have nothing but cheap plastic and clothing, but as we got further into town, more and more of the local produce appeared. We tasted, and bought, some wonderful cheeses, and marveled at the shapes that various breads were twisted into.
After a lunch of mussels and ‘frites’ we took a roundabout way back to the campsite to enjoy some of the local views.
Our next night was spent at a tiny village with the impressive name of St Vaast La Hougue, a little east of Cherbourg on the Cotentin Peninsula. As we were waiting for a bank card to catch up with us by courier, we spent much of the time doing various bits and pieces of ‘maintenance’ such as laundry. During this time, Carol and Steve left us to return to the UK, so we decided that it was high time that we got ourselves a local SIM card for our phone, and with this in mind, we made for Valognes, the nearest town of any size. Here, we were directed to, of all things, a photography shop, where, we were assured, someone spoke English. Well, we’re not sure what happened to the English speaker but we got hold of a young man of about 20 who at first seemed promising, apart from his frightful adenoidal problems, but it turned out that having greeted us, he had then exhausted his English vocabulary! Then followed about an hour of very fractured French and the usual gesticulations, as once again, Neels’ French did not seem to cover the topics we needed! Also, to buy a SIM card for a cell phone involved registering us on a computer, which was another problem as we obviously do not have a French address, and the computer kept rejecting ‘Onrus River’ as a place! Eventually our young man gave us an address that the computer approved of so we now live at ‘Place de l’Eglise, Valognes’. Please don’t visit us though, we probably won’t be there!
When we finally managed to get away from St Vaast (overnight courier from Oss took four days in the end) we decided to try out one of the France Passion farms for the night. Our choice was La Turgotiere which is an apple farm producing cider, apple juice, Calvados and a wonderful concoction called Pommeau, similar to port or sherry. After tasting, we bought a bottle of cider and a bottle of Pommeau – just the thing for a cold night.
That night it started raining and got very cold and the next morning was grey and rather miserable. We had a quick walk around the farm and discovered that they kept cows, sheep, goats, pigs, horses, chickens and rabbits. A very busy farmer indeed.
Our onward journey took us past Mont St Michel, and we were very glad that we had been there twice before as the island was shrouded in mist and didn’t look at all inviting. Our second choice of farm was owned by a butcher who had nothing to offer for sale, but did give us electricity so we could watch our DVD of the Andre Rieu concert on the very small screen.
Next stop was a camp site again (time for a decent shower) near St Malo. Neels wanted to visit the hydroelectric scheme on the Rance River, which was a real mission as Jane, our Tom-tom voice, didn’t know about it and kept wanting us to turn the wrong way. We got there in the end and it was very interesting. Just that one scheme supplies 15% of France’s needs; provides a very necessary bridge across the river; and has not damaged the ecology of the estuary. Far more efficient than wind farms and far less unsightly. However, not many places have a tidal difference as great as they do here.
The weather seems to have changed for the worse with rain again today, Sunday 20th, and the forecast looking bleak for the next few days.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Finally on our own
Well, a whole week since our last Internet connection, but two since I added anything to the blog, and it feels as if we have been on the move for at least two months!
Our departure was mildly eventful, as the plane left an hour earlier than our ticket indicated, but we made it, so no real drama there just a quick rush of adrenalin. The day time flight was wonderful for most of the way with excellent views over South Africa and Namibia. Shortly after Angola, cloud started to form and for the next while we read our books. The desert should have been spectacular but a major sand-storm cut out all sight of it, until we flew over Libya where we were amazed to see what looked like those big irrigation circles one sees in South Africa. When we got to Holland, we checked on the internet and found that they are, indeed, irrigation circles, but massive ones nearly a kilometer across.
Our drive from Dusseldorf to Oss in Holland took about one and a half hours and we were treated to the most wonderful sunset for most of the way. What could be called ‘misleading advertising’, as it was the last time we saw the sun for a week!
The following day we picked up our new home and Pieter kindly drove it home and parked it in front of their house so that we could pack it.
We spent the rest of the week buying groceries and trying to find places to store everything. No problem really as there is an amazing amount of storage space.
The Sunday following our arrival in Europe we drove to Smeermaas near Maastricht where we were to meet up with my sister, Carol, and her husband, Steve, who were staying with their daughter and family. And that is where disaster struck! While trying to stop the new puppy from running into the road, I trod awkwardly on something and there was a horrible popping sound from my ankle. After being almost carried into the house, it was decided that a visit to the local hospital was necessary as everyone was convinced that I had broken something, but five hours later, I was released with a very impressive bandage around my badly sprained ankle.
Of course, this all set us back a day and in the end we only left on Tuesday to go as far as a delightful little place called Le Crotoy on the Picardy coast. We both set our Tom-tom navigation aids and with the help of ‘Jane’ (as our ‘voice’ is called), we managed the navigation without problem. As we approached the town, which is on the Baie du Somme,, we passed a number of places that still had thick drifts of snow piled against walls and hedges from a snow-storm the day before and could only think of all the poor troops who had had to make their way across this dreadful terrain during the war. The following day we took a slow ride on a rather ancient little train which tours around the head of the Somme estuary and across the marshes to another quaint village called St. Valery du Somme which is apparently the port from which William the Conqueror left to attack the British in the famous Battle of Hastings. This was good excrsion for me as I still couldn’t walk with any comfort.
Our visit to Amiens the next day was a compromise. The cathedral is said to be twice the size of the Notre Dame in Paris and I can well believe it. I certainly wouldn’t have missed it for anything as the decoration is spectacular. Their special claim to fame is that they have the head of John the Baptist and it can be viewed – a bit gruesome as it resembles a shrunken head in a glass case on a tray, but, there you go, it draws the crowds!. After spending several hours wandering around the cathedral, we decided that a ‘sit-down’ type of afternoon occupation should be sought. And we found ‘Les Hortillonages’. This is a 300 hectare area, almost in the middle of the city which was previously developed as market gardens. Water from the Somme has been led around individual plots turning each allotment into an island. No longer used to supply the city with vegetables, they are now owned or rented out to anyone interested, and tourists can be taken around the canals on electric boats to enjoy the peace and beauty of the gardens. A few islands have been left to go wild, but mostly they are lovingly tended and are presently a riot of colour.
Our next stop was Honfleur in Normandy, reached by driving over the Pont de Normandie at Le Havre. This is fairly new and curves way up into the air in two loops. Very beautiful to look at, but a bit of a white-knuckle drive as the wind was quite strong at the top.
Our next and last stop with Steve and Carol will be on the Cotentin Peninsula which will be handy for them to catch the ferry back to the UK on Wednesday.
Our departure was mildly eventful, as the plane left an hour earlier than our ticket indicated, but we made it, so no real drama there just a quick rush of adrenalin. The day time flight was wonderful for most of the way with excellent views over South Africa and Namibia. Shortly after Angola, cloud started to form and for the next while we read our books. The desert should have been spectacular but a major sand-storm cut out all sight of it, until we flew over Libya where we were amazed to see what looked like those big irrigation circles one sees in South Africa. When we got to Holland, we checked on the internet and found that they are, indeed, irrigation circles, but massive ones nearly a kilometer across.
Our drive from Dusseldorf to Oss in Holland took about one and a half hours and we were treated to the most wonderful sunset for most of the way. What could be called ‘misleading advertising’, as it was the last time we saw the sun for a week!
The following day we picked up our new home and Pieter kindly drove it home and parked it in front of their house so that we could pack it.
We spent the rest of the week buying groceries and trying to find places to store everything. No problem really as there is an amazing amount of storage space.
The Sunday following our arrival in Europe we drove to Smeermaas near Maastricht where we were to meet up with my sister, Carol, and her husband, Steve, who were staying with their daughter and family. And that is where disaster struck! While trying to stop the new puppy from running into the road, I trod awkwardly on something and there was a horrible popping sound from my ankle. After being almost carried into the house, it was decided that a visit to the local hospital was necessary as everyone was convinced that I had broken something, but five hours later, I was released with a very impressive bandage around my badly sprained ankle.
Of course, this all set us back a day and in the end we only left on Tuesday to go as far as a delightful little place called Le Crotoy on the Picardy coast. We both set our Tom-tom navigation aids and with the help of ‘Jane’ (as our ‘voice’ is called), we managed the navigation without problem. As we approached the town, which is on the Baie du Somme,, we passed a number of places that still had thick drifts of snow piled against walls and hedges from a snow-storm the day before and could only think of all the poor troops who had had to make their way across this dreadful terrain during the war. The following day we took a slow ride on a rather ancient little train which tours around the head of the Somme estuary and across the marshes to another quaint village called St. Valery du Somme which is apparently the port from which William the Conqueror left to attack the British in the famous Battle of Hastings. This was good excrsion for me as I still couldn’t walk with any comfort.
Our visit to Amiens the next day was a compromise. The cathedral is said to be twice the size of the Notre Dame in Paris and I can well believe it. I certainly wouldn’t have missed it for anything as the decoration is spectacular. Their special claim to fame is that they have the head of John the Baptist and it can be viewed – a bit gruesome as it resembles a shrunken head in a glass case on a tray, but, there you go, it draws the crowds!. After spending several hours wandering around the cathedral, we decided that a ‘sit-down’ type of afternoon occupation should be sought. And we found ‘Les Hortillonages’. This is a 300 hectare area, almost in the middle of the city which was previously developed as market gardens. Water from the Somme has been led around individual plots turning each allotment into an island. No longer used to supply the city with vegetables, they are now owned or rented out to anyone interested, and tourists can be taken around the canals on electric boats to enjoy the peace and beauty of the gardens. A few islands have been left to go wild, but mostly they are lovingly tended and are presently a riot of colour.
Our next stop was Honfleur in Normandy, reached by driving over the Pont de Normandie at Le Havre. This is fairly new and curves way up into the air in two loops. Very beautiful to look at, but a bit of a white-knuckle drive as the wind was quite strong at the top.
Our next and last stop with Steve and Carol will be on the Cotentin Peninsula which will be handy for them to catch the ferry back to the UK on Wednesday.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
The Great Adventure starts
Monday morning dawned extremely early in the Ferreira household! We were up at 4.30 am and at the airport by 5.30 for checkin. Thinking we were early for the flight which only left at 8am, we were a little surprised at the number of equally early risers, but did not really think much further than that. How much more surprised we were then, to find our flight already boarding when we got to the departure lounge. On checking with one of the ground crew we discovered that our e-tickets had a typing error on them and that we were scheduled for a 7am take-off and not 8am as we had thought. Talk about skidding in at the last moment.....!
Once settled however, our trip was good. LTU Airlines provided us with the most leg room we have ever had in economy class, and being a day time flight, there was none of that dreadful 'trying-to-get-comfortable-so we -can-sleep' nonsense. Instead we enjoyed looking out of the windows at the earth below. Over the Peninsula and up the West Coast the weather was brilliantly clear. Namibia, too, was interesting with the Etosha Pan providing a spectacular sight for sheer vastness. I don't think either of us had realised just how large an area it covers. Shortly after that, we started to fly over cloud which obscured everything, and we had to turn to our books for entertainment, until we reached Libya, where we noticed clumps of large black circles scattered around the desert. They looked just like the irrigation circles that one sometimes sees in South Africa, but to be seen from 39000 feet up, they must have been huge. Once on the ground again and with access to the Internet, we looked up 'Black circles in the desert' and discovered that they were, indeed irrigation circles and are each about .8km across, so they are huge.
Just after that we started flying over a dust storm which lasted all the way to the Mediterranean, which was cloudy and after that we saw very little until shortly before we landed. I can recommend a daylight flight.
Pieter met us in Dusseldorf and together we drove the hour and a half route back to Oss. We had a spectacular sunset while we drove, which is apparently quite unusual.
The next day we went by train to Amsterdam to collect our van. It was coolish when we left, but simple freezing by the time we got to Amsterdam. Inside the offices of the campervan company it was deliciously warm and toasty but when we were taken out to inspect the van and be given our last-minute instructions on how everything works, it had started to drizzle and was very cold indeed. At last we were given the all clear and let loose on the road. Thank heavens for a heater in the cab, and a son who is used to driving in Holland! We couldn't have done without either.
Since then the van has been parked down at the boatyard as there really is no space here, and we have made odd trips back and forth to put things into it. I think it is going to suit us really well, as it has a spacious layout and lots of storage space. Tomorrow we need to pack all our clothes into it; get the last of the necessary supplies in and gird up our loins for the trip across to Maastricht where we will spend two nights with the Worthingtons before starting off in earnest.
Once settled however, our trip was good. LTU Airlines provided us with the most leg room we have ever had in economy class, and being a day time flight, there was none of that dreadful 'trying-to-get-comfortable-so we -can-sleep' nonsense. Instead we enjoyed looking out of the windows at the earth below. Over the Peninsula and up the West Coast the weather was brilliantly clear. Namibia, too, was interesting with the Etosha Pan providing a spectacular sight for sheer vastness. I don't think either of us had realised just how large an area it covers. Shortly after that, we started to fly over cloud which obscured everything, and we had to turn to our books for entertainment, until we reached Libya, where we noticed clumps of large black circles scattered around the desert. They looked just like the irrigation circles that one sometimes sees in South Africa, but to be seen from 39000 feet up, they must have been huge. Once on the ground again and with access to the Internet, we looked up 'Black circles in the desert' and discovered that they were, indeed irrigation circles and are each about .8km across, so they are huge.
Just after that we started flying over a dust storm which lasted all the way to the Mediterranean, which was cloudy and after that we saw very little until shortly before we landed. I can recommend a daylight flight.
Pieter met us in Dusseldorf and together we drove the hour and a half route back to Oss. We had a spectacular sunset while we drove, which is apparently quite unusual.
The next day we went by train to Amsterdam to collect our van. It was coolish when we left, but simple freezing by the time we got to Amsterdam. Inside the offices of the campervan company it was deliciously warm and toasty but when we were taken out to inspect the van and be given our last-minute instructions on how everything works, it had started to drizzle and was very cold indeed. At last we were given the all clear and let loose on the road. Thank heavens for a heater in the cab, and a son who is used to driving in Holland! We couldn't have done without either.
Since then the van has been parked down at the boatyard as there really is no space here, and we have made odd trips back and forth to put things into it. I think it is going to suit us really well, as it has a spacious layout and lots of storage space. Tomorrow we need to pack all our clothes into it; get the last of the necessary supplies in and gird up our loins for the trip across to Maastricht where we will spend two nights with the Worthingtons before starting off in earnest.
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