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On Tuesday 23rd May, at three
o’clock, on the outskirts of Heathrow Airport, Tony and myself were standing in
the reception area of, Budget and Avis, hire cars. The young gentleman
representing Budget Hire Cars was filling in the rental forms for a Fiat Ducato
2.3 multijet 150 break horse power van with 13 cubic meters of storage inside.
Tony was hiring the van and I was included on the forms as a second driver. The
personable young man checked our driving licenses. We both signed the forms and
everything was set. However, Tony inquired about adjusting the headlights on
the van to be used in France and Spain. They were not adjustable. Tony asked
about the EU requirements that every vehicle should carry a high visibility
jacket, a spare set of headlight bulbs and have two luminous red warning
triangles to be placed in front of and behind the van in the event of a
breakdown. None of this was included in the itinerary of the van and the young man
was totally unaware of these regulations. Budget and Avis are a reputable car
hire company that have years of experience and are meant to be professional.
Some muttering from Tony, and a good dose of incredulity from me accompanied
our exit from the premises. Tony didn’t push the argument any further. He had
all the necessary items in his own car back at home which we transferred to the
van before we began our adventure.
AN art installation beside the road in France.
A few weeks ago, Tony Brown, John Lodge, Ivitt
Dickinson, Jim Howley and myself met at The White Horse in Dorking for a drink
and a lunchtime meal. Tony talked about selling his house in Spain. He wanted
to bring back some items of furniture which have been passed down in his family.
They are precious family heirlooms. I said that if he needed any help I would
give him a hand. Tony gave me a look, paused and said,” if you mean it, yes,
come along.” I thought he would need somebody to help lift and carry the items.
The deal was set.
We set off for Bognor Regis first. Tony has
a caravan at Willows Caravan Park just outside of the village of Westergate,
about four and half miles north of Bognor Regis. Tony’s youngest sister Marie
and her brother in-law were there to meet us. We loaded some furniture from the
caravan on to our van to swap with the furniture Tony wanted to bring back from
Spain. We bought some deliciously hot and crisp fish and chips from a local chippie. The
fish and chips were devoured and a cup of tea imbibed and we were ready to set
off for Newhaven. Our Ferry sailed at 11pm. Once on board we found some
couchettes to settle down for the night. They were indescribably uncomfortable.
I didn’t sleep. Tony had a doze. I might have dropped off for a few minutes but
to put it bluntly the night was bloody torture. Two extremely tired people
began the first day’s drive at 4.30am in the morning from Dieppe. We had landed
in Dieppe but I didn’t see it. It was dark when we disembarked and the road
from the ferry leading to, “Toute Directions,” curved up onto the chalk cliffs
and bypassed Dieppe itself. We set forth on our trip through France and Spain intending
to swap driving duties every two hours to give each other a rest.
Tony
and myself, stopping at Auchan La Couronne for a break.
Driving was a comfortable experience. The van
was easy to drive and all the controls were smooth and light to the touch. It
was easy to forget the size of the vehicle we were driving. There was very
little traffic on the roads and we sped along. By about 9.30am cafes and
motorway conveniences were opening so we decided to stop for breakfast. Coffee
and croissants, lovely. I was feeling
reasonably fresh by this time. As we alternated our driving we could take the
opportunity to nap when we were not driving.
The kilometers sped by, Rouen, Evreux,
Dreux, Chartres, Poitiers. We did not stop. We drove on. I had made a few notes
about some of the more famous places that we passed, to be aware of their
history. Rouen was the capital of the Duchy of Normandy and it was where
William of Normandy ruled before he conquered England in 1066. Joan of Arc was
burned at the stake in Rouen during the Hundred Years War. In 732 AD there was
a battle against the Muslim invaders at Chartres. The spires of Chartres
cathedral pierced the sky over the ancient and modern city and could be seen
from miles away as we drove on, inexorably. Poitiers is famous of course for the
battle between the French and English during the hundred years’ war. In 1356,
Edward The Black Prince defeated King John II of France. It was the second of
the great English victories against the French during the Hundred Years’ War.
The other two were Crecy and Agincourt. The main feature of these battles and
the reason the English were able to defeat the French decisively, was the use
of the English longbow. Poitier, also had been, in its ancient past, both a Celtic
and a Roman center. There is a Roman amphitheater in Poitiers.
We stopped for lunch at Angouleme, in the
south western area of France, in the province of Aquitaine. A name also with
English resonances. The countryside was flat and extended in smooth undulating
expanses towards the horizon, only broken by clusters of woods interspersed
across the landscape. We saw small turreted chateaux along the way often
surrounded by sheltering trees to protect and shield them from the prevailing
winds.
We drove through Bordeaux. Vineyards
stretched far across the landscape to our left and right. The vines were set
out as neatly as ribbed corduroy. Sauvignon,
Merlot, Verdot, Malbec appeared on large signs here and there. These are the
names of types of grape producing wines often with the same names. We drove on,
crossing bridges spanning the great rivers, The Loire, Niotase, Canal de Pomere
the Dordogne and the Garonne. After driving
all day and covering more than 600 miles we reached the foot of the Pyrenees. In the distance we
could see the Pyrenees mountain range and we caught glimpses of snow high up on
the tallest peaks.
The foothills of The Pyrenees in the distance.
So, what did Tony and I talk about?
Everything, as you would expect. Religion, politics, family, thoughts and
opinions about this and that. We saw the weather forecast on televisions
displayed at various stops along the way and saw Macron meeting Putin and Trump
, acting very out of place, at the G7 and we talked about that. We talked about
and commented on what we saw along the way, places, scenery, other drivers and
how bad they were. A learner driver cut straight across the front of our van on
that first day while Tony was driving. I
gasped and muttered something unrepeatable and Tony hissed, something unrepeatable.
The two of us were together for seven days, in each other’s company all that time.
I think we became unselfconscious. I know I can speak impulsively. I remember
talking about teaching in junior schools and
rambling on about every detail and consideration needed for taking a
class on a residential trip. It just
poured out. Maybe if Tony reads this he might smile and mutter,” Oh goodness,
did he go on and on.” Tony gave me the low down on life in Spain and so on we
went, doing a lot of talking.
Pau, at the base of the Pyrenees was a welcome
break. Before we reached the town I was becoming very tired. I wasn’t sleepy
but my whole body felt exhausted.I said to Tony , “can you take over driving, I
have had enough. “I didn’t realise how close we were to the hotel. As we didn’t
come across anywhere to stop and change over, I continued until we pulled into
the car park. We stayed in a small motel on the outskirts of Pau. I was able to
have a hot shower. When we were both refreshed we met together and walked over
to the restaurant for dinner. The restaurant served basic dishes, baked fish,
chicken goulettes, a ratatouille, a range of cheeses, sour dough bread, water ,
a choice of wines and French and Belgium beers and good coffee. Well of course
French food is never basic. The French are unable to create a substandard
meal. It’s in their DNA to cook well, combining herbs and sauces even for the
cheapest of cheapest meals. We ate a delicious repast. Before retiring we went
for a walk around the vicinity of the motel and came across some sports fields
nearby covered in vans and caravans. People seemed to have gathered for a
festival of some sort. My room was clean, the bed was comfortable and I went to
sleep almost the moment I touched my head on the pillow and slept deeply and
soundly all night.
Driving through France.
I woke in the morning refreshed. Tony and I
met for breakfast, a hot cup of coffee, some cereal and a croissant and we were
on our way. The Pyrenees loomed ahead. Once out of the town of Pau by way of
innumerable roundabouts we headed towards the foothills of the Pyrenees. French
roundabouts always seem to have a sharp turn right off them. It’s as though
they try to slow your progress before you are able to accelerate. We had both
got used to driving the Fiat van by now. It had a long wheelbase and taking
these angled turns off the numerous roundabouts we encountered had to be done
carefully.
The roads in France but especially in Spain
are smooth and well surfaced and in many cases new. There is also, apart from
around towns and cities, very little traffic. The Fiat van being easy to drive
the roads were generally a pleasure to drive along. The one thing we had to be
careful about were the speed limits. Tony had installed his SATNAV in the cab
of the van. The SATNAV kept us informed about our speed and the limit we should
keep to. There are cameras everywhere and the French and Spanish are very
strict about keeping to limits. The only drawback about this is that sometimes
the speed limits changed drastically. Approaching towns it sometimes showed 50kmph
but out on the main motorways it showed 90kmph or 110kmph then in places it
went up to 120kmph but suddenly it would drop quickly to 100 or even 50.
Approaching one town in France I remember the speed being 110kmph then dropping
quickly to 50kmph and within meters shooting up to 100kmph. There seemed no
logic to it. But, we had to be careful. We didn’t want a speeding ticket. “Elizabeth,” helped us. Elizabeth being the
name we gave to the assuring voice of the SATNAV. “Elizabeth,” was great. A
wonderful companion. She kept us informed of temperature, speed, petrol
consumption and km to go, to our next scheduled stop. During the whole journey
we kept to our driving schedule of driving
in two hour intervals. We changed over at suitable stopping points where we
could get a coffee and go to the gents.
Driving through the Pyrenees.
There are 129 peeks in the Pyrenees that are
over 3000 meters. Signs showed us that sometimes we were climbing to 2000 meters
or more. The Pyrenees reminded me, with their steep slopes and racing mountain
streams and lakes of the Lake District. It had a feel of The Cumbrian Lakes but
on a much larger scale. We saw boulders loosened from the mountain tops resting
on valley sides or near streams bigger than houses. They were very impressive
in size and scale. Buzzards circled overhead at times. We passed through
tunnels cut through mountainsides and drove through villages constructed from
the local stone. One particular rugged stone built tower, Tony informed me, was
called, The Riflemen’s Tower. Indeed, the holes through which rifles could be
fired were visible as we drove past it high on the rocks above. It was
obviously a strategic military position defending the valley. As we passed into
Spain some blue uniformed police officers stopped us and asked us what our
business was. They were courteous and didn’t detain us long. I wondered if,
since the random ISIS attacks in Britain and Europe, the boarders would be
difficult to cross. I got the feeling these police were being careful but not
in a too obstructive manner.
The road onwards.
Geologically, the Pyrenees must be a geologists’
paradise. Every type of rock, formation and process can be found in the
Pyrenees. The range is 430 kilometers long. It divides Spain, France and
Andora. Its width, north to south varies from 65 kilometers to 150 kilometers.
It began to be formed in the Precambrian period from the early formation of the
Earth 4.6 billion years ago to 590 million years ago when fossils began to
appear. Every type of rock can be found in the Pyrenees, conglomerates which
are gravels and sandstones, breccia a form of cemented gravels, sandstones,
shales, siltstones, keuper deposits, limestones, schists, marls, greywackes,
salts and red deposits which are sandstones that contain iron oxides. One
particular road cutting we drove through, high up in the mountains, showed
sides that were a deep red colour.
We came across sandstone cliffs that changed
colour, like a rainbow across its surface and reminded me of the sandstone
cliffs at Alum Bay on the south coast of the Isle of Wight. The Alum Bay sands
are made from quartz, feldspar and mica and the colours are created by other
minerals seeping into and staining the layers. Something similar must have
happened to the sandstones in the Pyrenees. It also suggests that these
Pyrenean sandstones were formed under the sea at one time. The mountain folds were caused as the Iberian
Peninsula plate collided with the European plate. There are examples of
volcanic activity. There are metamorphic rocks and sedimentary rocks. This rich
and varied geology creates the most dramatic and beautiful landscape.
Sandstone cliffs.
Emerging from the Somport Tunnel.
We drove through the Somport Pass and the relatively new Somport Tunnel , a long
modern well-lit sweeping insertion through part of the mountains. Once through
the Pyrenees we drove on and into Spain. The landscape seemed flat and barren,
sun scorched, although Tony assured me that Spain was looking greener than he
expected for this time of the year. Yes, I could see the greenery but it was
pretty thinly spread and the yellow and orange and red ochre earth beneath
showed through. As we neared towns and villages sometimes castles were situated
on high rock outcrops commanding views over the surrounding terrain. We drove
on. The signs for Jaca and Huesca passed us by. Huesca is one of the
many towns that originate from Roman times and is the capital of the Province
of Huesca in the area called Aragon. Thoughts of Tudor English history came to
mind. English history doesn’t just have its reach throughout France but through
Spain too. Zaragoza came up next. I was interested to learn that the name,
Zaragoza, is a bastardisation of the name ,”Caesar Augustus.” It is obvious
therefore the origins of Zaragoza. It is the capital of the province of
Zaragoza but also the capital of the wider area of Aragon. Zaragoza has a multi domed cathedral,
the Nuestra Senora del Pilar basilica. It is shrine to the Virgin Mary. It
combines baroque and Islamic styles in its construction, standing out from its
surrounding buildings. It is a center for pilgrimage. And on we drove in this
increasingly arid landscape, Teruel, Sagunto. Font de la Figuera, Elche and
eventually our destination, Torrevieja on the Costa Blanca. Some smaller
mountain ranges reach the sea just here and although not high, because they
stick out of the flat, surrounding landscape sharp edged and rugged they
are a dramatic sight.
Tony cleaning dead insects off the windscreen at one coffee break in Spain.
Torrevieja is a seaside resort with many
new buildings and narrow streets huddled up against a busy harbour crammed with
sailing yachts and launches. Salt lagoons, Las Salinas, are on the edge of the
city. Salt production is its main industry apart from tourism and the presence
of a large British and foreign ex pat
community. Some old buildings remain such as Iglesia Arciprestal de la
Inmaculado Concepcion which was built in 1789 and rebuilt in 1844. I walked
into this church just after people emerged after hearing mass. It was dimly lit
with candles. I walked past some of the small chapels inset along each side.
Spanish churches and cathedrals create biblical and religious scenes with life
size and lifelike statues in poses of veneration, adoration or suffering.
Combined with the candle lit atmosphere these scenes become almost alive and
can be very moving and affecting.
The statues were almost lifelike in the candlelit interior.
I walked around Torrevieja while Tony had a
meeting with his solicitor about arranging the transfer of the ownership of his
house to his friend. There is a pier which leads from the harbour and stretches
for one kilometer, parallel with the coastline. I walked along this to the end.
Many people were jogging and walking along it for the fresh sea breeze. I was
able to look back and get a broad view of the city, the harbour and ships
transporting salt from the conical mounds of salt positioned along the
industrial wharves.
Ships loading salt in Torrevieja.
While we were in Torrevieja I met some of
Tony’s friends and we went out for a meal with one couple and visited another
couple in their home. The expat lifestyle is comfortable. Houses and the cost
of living is cheaper than in Britain. Tony’s friends I met lived in beautiful
villas with Spanish style roofs, doors and windows and the interiors were just
as classically designed. They told me that they love living in Spain not only
because of the cost of living but because of the climate. Even in the winter
months the climate of Torrevieja does not go below 17 degrees celcius and can
reach 20 degrees in the winter.The English who live in Spain are a gregarious
lot. They support each other and form clubs. Tony told me how he and Mumtaz had
started a caravan club and organized tours to various parts of Spain. Tony had
also lead a walking group which went for walks together in the hills and
mountains around Torrevieja. It is
common throughout Spain that communities help organize the development of the
areas they live in. If a communal swimming pool is required for the area, or
the employment of a road sweeper and gardener for the roadside verges is needed,
the local people have a committee which oversees these developments. People
pay fees to their central committee each year to help finance these ventures.Tony,
and some of his friends I met, are leaders in their own community.
The harbour in Torrevieja.
Torrevieja is south of Alicante in the Provence of Valencia. Valencia has some rugged mountain ranges, the ancient Iberian range extending from the
north west to the south east, and the younger Betica formation from the south
to Cap de la Nao. This young limestone has given rise to high rocks like the
Penon de Ifach crag. Where these mountain ranges reach the sea they give rise
to dramatic cliffs. As we drove towards Torrevieja, on our downwrads journey, we could see these mountain
formations all around us. It is easy to see the attraction for hill and
mountain walking in Spain. The scenery looked spectacular.
Mick, a retired Irish policeman friend of
Tony’s, who lived nearby Tony in Torrevieja, helped us load the back of the van
with Tony’s furniture, the items he wanted to bring back to England. An ornate bed
head, sofas, washing machine, various family heirlooms, including a, “bog oak,”
cupboard and a grandfather clock case, and some bedside cupboards, were all
hoisted onboard with ample heaving, huffing and puffing. “This way!” “That
way!” “Up a bit, no, lower, lower,” and so forth. After some maneuvering we got
it all loaded and tied and strapped down.
Tony's old back yard with a barbecue.
The journey back through Spain took us past
Sax and Villena, both with impressive castles standing out in the landscape. We
drove on past Calamocha, Muel, Nueno and Anguis, the Pyrenees looming up once
more in the distance. We drove into Zaragoza because I took the wrong branch on
the A23 but it proved quiet on a Sunday and the roads were virtually empty. It
was interesting to see all the modern factories and high rise estates on the
outskirts of Zaragoza and we were soon back on the E07 which again joined up with
the A23 taking us north. Zaragoza, has a famous history. Apart from its Roman origins it was besieged during
the Napoleonic Wars. This trip, if it did nothing else, gave me a
whole list of places, that we merely drove past and through this time but which one day I
want to go back and visit properly.
Castles in Spain.
“Elizabeth,”was becoming a problem on the way
back. She was forever trying to get us to take turnings, drive in directions
and along routes we didn’t want to drive. Nearing the Pyrenees once again we
eventually gave into her. We thought. “Lets see where she takes us.” In many
ways it was the right thing to do. Instead of taking us the main route through
the Pyrenees which we had followed on the way south, the N134 via Urdos and
Bource, we took “Elizabeth’s,” route the D934, which at times we discovered,
became a narrow country road. The D934 took us past, dams, waterfalls,
hydroelectric plants and under overhanging rocks. At one stage while driving,
the rocky cliff on my right overhung the road but Tony assured me we had at
least a meter clearance. He was right because we got past without any scrapes.
My hardest bit of driving was coming down steep mountain roads that,” hair
pinned,” continuously for kilometers. The drop to one side was always
precipitous. Fast moving mountain streams raced beneath us. There were many
more boulders strewn about than we had encountered on the way south. Many were
so big, one landing on us would have crushed us flat in an instant. The scenery
was breathtaking. It was amazing to see the snow high up on the mountains around
us. Our route took us once again, between 2000 and 3000 feet but the
temperature didn’t drop below 20 degrees. We passed ski lifts and ski lodges
this time which we had not encountered before. The ski slopes were devoid of
snow at this time of the year.
Boulders loosened from the mountain higher up, bigger than houses.
We eventually reached Pau again and stayed
the night in the same motel we had stayed in on our way south to Spain. The
receptionist and our waitress for the evening spoke to us in French and Tony
used his language skills with expertise and panache. As we sat eating our evening meal, the French
elections were on the television. Macron had won and although Marine le Pen had
lost the presidential election she had got close. She demonstrated strongly the
rise of nationalism and the hard right that is resurgent in Europe at the
moment. We watched the weather forecast for France, thirty degrees or more all
along the route north we were to take. As we left the restaurant for our rooms
I spoke to the receptionist and was surprised to find her answering me in
perfect English, with an English accent. I was taken aback. She was English. I
asked her how long she had lived in Pau. She replied for at least twelve years.
She was young. She must have lived there since she was a child. I didn’t pursue
our conversation any further and just smiled and said goodnight. We made sure
we had plenty of water before setting off in the morning.
Driving back through France.
We drove back up through France, crossing the
great rivers once again, The Garonne, The Dordogne, The Charente, The Loire ,
The Seine and The Somme, back towards Dieppe. Just south of Chartres at
Barjouville, we stopped at a new,” Leclerk ,”supermarket complex and had lunch.
Tony and I messing about with mirrors in the Leclerk supermarket south of Chartres.
From here we drove on across the flat countryside reaching to the horizon and
saw once again, but from the south this time, the great slender spires of Notre Dame de Chartres, built between 1194 and
1220, pointing to the clear blue sky above it. It looked magnificent in the
distance as it got steadily closer. I can imagine all those generations of workers in the fields, the
farmers, their wives and their children from the 13th century
onwards looking up from their work and seeing this gothic magnificence in the
distance and they would have regarded it with awe and reverence and wonder. We had
time, this time, to drive into Chartres. We didn’t stop but drove around the
old town with its quaint buildings, avenues of trees and small parks. We drove
close to the cathedral to get a passing look and then we were out of the city
and on our way to Dieppe.
Dieppe in the evening for a beer in a bar.
We arrived in Dieppe early so we drove down
the steep hill into the town and had a drink in a bar overlooking the harbour
full of yachts and fishing boats. We recalled the Dieppe Raid of August 1940
which was a disaster for the allies. The lessons from Dieppe were applied to
the D Day landings in June 1944.The
ferry crossing back to England was better than the crossing over. We both
managed to get a little sleep this time using the couchettes. In the morning we
drove back to Willows Caravan Park and with some scheming, heaving and
adjusting we got the furniture from the van into the caravan. Later we drove
back to the AVIS car hire company at Heathrow and Tony signed what he needed to
sign and handed over the keys. Tony drove me home to West Barnes Lane and our
adventure was over.
