The Ardeche

11th–25th August – Languedoc/Roussillon and The Ardeche

We arrived at Camping Le Dauphin having had an uneventful journey - apart from Graham’s bike of course (see previous posting). Once settled on a decent sized corner pitch, we took the bike to “Sport 2000”, the French equivalent of Halfords, to see if we could get the wheel straightened. Much to our surprise a tiny young girlie, who told us she was studying to become an engineer, made light work of the repair. Having hoisted the bike on to an inspection rack she quickly assessed the damage; 45 minutes and a visit to Carrefour later, we were mobile and decided to explore.

This part of the coast is referred to as the camping capital of France (we hadn’t known that otherwise we may have headed for a different destination) and consequently, being the middle of August, it was gridlocked. But at least we were mobile with the bikes! The beach stretched in a gentle curve for a mile or so, with a port at the southern end. Miles of golden sand and all of it empty except for the 15 feet or so from the sea where holidaymakers crammed into every available space.
The cycle track along the beach was nicely shaded with an avenue of trees, behind which lay an area of one and two-storey buildings; mainly shops, restaurants and bars laid out in a perfect grid. They were very clean, with water spray being released from the awnings every 60 seconds or so to keep diners cool. It was nice, but lacked character. We cycled on towards the port. Again, it all looked newish, with a variety of sailing boats ranging from expensive yachts to traditional fishing boats and, as a backdrop, the Pyrenees in the distance.

In Graham’s never ending search for a pharmacist to buy nicotine lozenges (he’s been a non-smoker for a couple of years but is now addicted to the lozenges) and my desire to find “La Poste”, we came across the old village of Argeles. It was absolutely charming, with a pedestrianised street, quaint old houses and a town square dominated by an ancient Church. We sat with a beer in a nice little bar and, as you do, got chatting to a retired English chap who’d moved to Argeles seven years ago. I asked him what he missed about the UK. He thought for a while and said, “Books, Chinese food and rain!” As we wandered aimlessly around the town we came across a house for sale; a little terraced, two-storey, ramshackle house with a roof terrace. It clearly needed some tender loving care, but it had a lot of potential for 190,000 Euros.

We had decided on Argeles for our base in order to be within easy reach of the ancient town of Carcassonne. It is stunning; “the epitome of the fairy-tale medieval town”, a double-walled and turreted fortress that crowns the hill above the River Aude. It was absolutely packed, which rather spoiled our visit. We also made the wrong choice for lunch by stopping at a very pleasant looking restaurant packed with French as well as other tourists (usually a good recommendation) but had a dreadful plat-du-jour - the only bad meal of the holiday so far - which rather soured my view of Carcassonne. Then it was back to Argeles and Carrefour’s, and the struggle to buy our groceries amongst, it seemed like, a thousand other shoppers who tested our patience to the limits...

The following day we visited some ex-neighbours of ours from Langley Vale, Linda and Noel, who now live in a delightful, tiny hamlet called Malras; their nearest town being Limoux. The drive through the austere Aude Valley and the Gorges de Galamus to reach their home was absolutely stunning; mountains, ravines and, in the valleys, vineyards. It was nice talking about all our yesterdays. Our sons were good friends before Oliver moved to Thailand. Of course we were delighted to be shown the local beauty spots and the views over the valley from Malras were stunning. We stopped for a pleasant beer at a bar in Limoux which overlooked an ancient square. By the time we’d left Limoux we were starving and Linda volunteered to cook dinner... roast duck with all the trimmings - delicious! We stayed much later than we’d intended and arrived back at “Le Dauphin” around midnight, but it had been a super day.So that was our look round the Languedoc area. Although Argeles is a pleasant little spot, I was pleased to move on to my favourite area - the Ardeche...

Our journey from Argeles to the Ardeche was straightforward and, because I knew the surrounding area/villages and towns well from previous holidays when my kids were young, finding the campsite presented no problem. Graham and I also spent our honeymoon in a little gite overlooking the River Ardeche, just a short walk from the ancient town of Ruoms.

Ranc Davaine has pitches for around 420. Some are permanent fixtures, such as mobile homes and large, well equipped tents. It felt quite intimate and much smaller, as the site is tiered and pitches are well defined, only overlooked by neighbours each side. Our pitch was ideal - we were surrounded by stunted oaks which provided natural shade. The site is bordered by the River Chassezac and high, boulder strewn hills. This area looks wild and untamed and although the tourist spots are very crowded at this time of year, there are isolated, wild places dotted with tiny villages and “mas” - the ubiquitous ancient stone houses. Cultivated valleys run alongside the River Ardeche, where vines grow in abundance producing hearty red and delicious light rosé wines.

We’ve been blessed with some really lovely neighbours over the weeks and this stay was no different. A Dutch company called Roan has a concession on the site that allows them to have several large permanent tent installations and Johann, Anke and their two sons Robin and Gordi were on the next plot . Graham called the area we were in “Little Holland” because there were so many Dutch people there. And it was all the better for it! On our other side though, we had a French family in a caravan and the husband was a bit on the large side - tall as well as wide - and Graham immediately nicknamed him Obelisk.

My sister Barbara and her husband Alan were due to spend a few days with us, travelling down from their house in Le Touquet. They had reckoned the journey would take them seven hours but that didn’t take into account a second lap around the Paris Periferique or finding the Michelin instructions incomprehensible at a strategic point. Ten hours later they arrived, but in good humour. In the meantime we’d struggled again with the awning. At one point we thought we’d lost one or two of the supports; I had visions of B & A having to somehow fit into Freda. But we managed and after a nice BBQ and a few G & Ts’ it was off to bed. The next morning they struggled to get their limbs moving again – apparently it had been very cold in the night and they’d been disturbed by what my sister thought was a rat munching its way through a rubbish bag!

After a BBQ breakfast of bacon, eggs and tomatoes we were fit to “market”. Ruoms has a super market, lots of craft stalls (rather than tat), fresh fruit, cheeses, hams; you name it they have it. The “boys” disappeared for a beer as they couldn’t keep up in the temperatures of 38 degrees. Barbara and I shopped ‘til we dropped!

We spent the afternoon in the pool complex, whizzing down tunnel and other slides and generally cooling off.

The next day we toured, stopping first at the river under one of the bridges going towards Ruoms. At the bottom of the gorge the Ardeche runs crystal clear with fish the size of dolphins with the steep sided gorge retaining the heat of the day. No other place but the water to cool off (apart from me that is... I have a fish phobia - not to mention butterflies and moths). We then went on to the popular and famous Vallon Pont D’arc where the river is spanned by an enormous natural stone arch – see photograph. B & A spotted canoes and kayaks and my fate was sealed.

Next day saw us back at Pont D’arc hiring canoes. I insisted that Graham did not steer us anywhere near the rapids, but most of the time we were trying to avoid other canoes, swimmers and kids stone-walling from the cliff-sides.

All good things come to an end and after three days B & A left for Le Touquet. Their journey this time was relatively uneventful but even longer. I missed them. Johann and his family also left on the same day, only to be replaced later in the afternoon by another lovely Dutch family - Guido, Geertruida and their two sons Pepyn and Ruben. They had travelled with Geertruida’s twin sister and family, who were in the tent next door.

Apart from pottering around on our bikes we didn’t do a lot; swimming, keeping cool and (sometimes) enjoying the “entertainment” – a very professional set-up. We enjoyed a group, Les Toons, (sounds corny) but they were absolutely excellent and played some fab stuff. Graham says that French don’t do rock and roll and I’d agree but “Les Toons” played all English stuff: Stones, Queen, Beatles – it was a really good evening. Not so good was the “Spectacular” – a dance troupe so amateurish and wooden we few Brits and Dutch were embarrassed, but not the French, who applauded like they’d never seen anything so good. Strange people the French... Graham said that if they’d appeared on “Britain’s Got Talent” Simon Cowell would’ve pressed his buzzer two seconds into the act and then run to the toilet with his fingers stuck down his throat. Diversity they weren’t!

The day before we were due to leave we saw reports on the weather forecast of a cyclone about to engulf the area. As we packed to leave the sky did look rather black and sinister... but we managed to get away without getting wet. However, once on the road to our next destination, Sarlat in the Dordogne (nine hours; avoiding mountains), the sky blackened and then it RAINED, our first experience of it in two months. Our first thought was that at least it would clean Freda up a bit. However, we weren’t prepared for the drop in temperature. As we drove into a service station the temperature hit an all time low of 18°C and I shivered for the first time since leaving Northern Spain. Trying to be positive I said, “Well, we have to get used to the real world again”.

We arrived in the rain at a lovely site just outside a tiny hamlet, Montfort, near Sarlat in the Dordogne. The site is pretty perfect (as is the area). Nice, screened pitches and WI-FI. The rain dried up shortly after we arrived and having set up we decided to go to the bar and listen to the “entertainer” who turned out to be an excellent guitarist/singer who was brilliant.

Sadly Graham has come down with a nasty cold so we will be marooned for the next couple of days or so. What a good thing I brought the Benylin Night and Day capsules!