In order to get to this hut on the left, we had to drive about three hours in England, half an hour on Eurotunnel and an eternity in France, stopping off for a night in Orleans, South of Paris. It did occur to me….often…that a similar hut could be found in a holiday park in Norfolk just up the road but hey ho, the journey is all part of the holiday, is it not? Jury’s out on that one.
I pored over the maps before we left and sat forlornly in the car, prodding GPS co-ordinates into the SatNav which we only recently discovered went all the way to Europe. I was hoping to avoid the infamous Paris ring-road, the Peripherique, yet the annoying SatNav woman chose three routes, all going via Paris. Bum. I tried pressing buttons to see if I could force her to take the capital out of the equation, but to no avail.
I googled “routes to Orleans” and a suggestion was made to go via Rouen and Chartres. We were familiar with much of the route so plumped for this slightly longer but divorce-avoiding option. However SatNav woman was having none of it and, once we reached the continent, despite us heading happily towards Rouen, kept urging us to head to gay Paree. We turned her off and relied on my excellent map-reading….
Dougie was quite upset when SatNav Sally was given the heave ho, but only because he had fallen in love with her French counterpart who chirped in the names of French towns in such a sexy whisper you’d think she was sitting with her skirt hitched up, smoking a Gauloise. I could never have imagined the town names of Evreux, Elbeuf and Louviers would cause such a stirring in the old Scottish loins sitting next to me. Concentrate on the road, man.
We made sure we only stopped at big service stations which were more likely to have proper toilets instead of holes in the ground. We avoided the picnic-stops which looked attractive but were likely to end in tears and wet shoes. It does annoy me, this inability of the French to get their act together and bring their lavatorial facilities into the 21st century. The big UK service stations, now with spotless, plentiful loos together with M&S and Waitrose concessions, are a joy in comparision. The loos in the town centres are even worse. Dougie visited one later in the holiday where the urinal wasn’t plumbed in at all so poured onto the floor. As he got back in the car, the stench of pee was so bad he was sent back out in the rain to dance in a few puddles, much to the bemusement of the locals.
On the plus side, the French roads are a dream and we reached Orleans without a hitch and marriage intact. I was given a gold star for choosing the Novotel Orleans La Source, a little oasis just off the motorway in a leafy suburb of the city. Clean, smart, little outdoor pool, great family-friendly restaurant and everything extremely efficient: ideal for a one-night stopover.
The next day, a long drive to the Dordogne, but again very easy. Slightly disconcerting when cars overtake and it looks like the driver is asleep, slumped over the dashboard. Of course they are the passengers but even so they are far more laid back than I am. When I’m the passenger I’m bolt upright, looking at road signs and maps. The thought of pushing my seat back and putting my feet up on the window makes me shudder. My husband couldn’t possibly manage to drive without my foot hovering over the imaginary brake.
We survived the journey with frequent stops to fill up with petrol as Hubby feels happier with a full tank because “you just never know”. Lunch was a selection of strange baguettes with unknown fillings. You’d think the French would at least get the food right at service stations but no, fast food burgers and sad pre-packed sarnies. We really should have come off the motorway and found some little bistro in a local village but that always sounds better in theory. In practice, when hunger strikes, you just need to pull over there and then to stuff some calories in. The “smoothies” which turned out to be sachets of baby food weren’t such a good choice, I must admit.
Check-in was 3pm at our Keycamp reception at the St Avit Loisirs campsite near Le Bugue. We arrived at precisely 3pm which pleased Dougie immensely.
(More of our adventures to follow. Back home now wading through the laundry but it’s such a good drying day: easily pleased)
Apart from the medieval loos it all sounds wonderful… the wife and I often talk about escaping to France for our hols; you've sold me a little more on the idea now.
We've had some great holidays in France – the quiet roads make it well worth the drive. There's more blog posts simmering about what we got up to – Dordogne area excellent for families, plenty to do.
Imagine how he would react to an Italian SatNav then.
Goonerjamie – if I catch him in the garage putting in the coordinates for Milan there'll be trouble!
Funny!! I feel if somebody can't laugh at themselves when traveling, they ought to stay home. Can't wait to read what you got up to. That's a place I would love to visit someday.
I have to say we have had a large number of holidays in france and always loved the service stations and I have NEVER had to do the squat and ahake thing!
Amy – thank you! Give me a day to finish the washing and ironing and I'll give you a bit more.
The Mad House – well done on picking the service stations with good loos. Can you map them for me, Jen?
The trick seems to be to pick ones with petrol as they have better facilities. We chose a "loo and picnic area" stop at one point and I had to cross my legs until we drove a bit further.
Its easier to wee in the woods than over those squat loos. I'm convinced the French just do it to pee off the foreign travellers. How fantastic and antiquated you turned off Sally and used a map :0) Do you remember last year our keycamp coordinates were wrong and we drove to the wrong campsite about 50 miles away from where we should have been!! this year we had a brilliant journey once we had finally got a car. I have given up on the french service stations and take a pack up with us. I cook up a bolognaise before we go and freeze it. That defrosting in the freezer bag with a few ice blocks too keeps all the chill food fresh until we get there and eat along the way and the bolognaise is ready to heat up to eat :0) Works a treat!
Kelloggsville – the wrong campsite? Priceless!
Love the idea of the bolognaise. Should consider that next time. We were better prepared coming home, making up baguettes and buying pastries before we set off.
The best bit about the service stations is the abundance of picnic areas: the French arrive with huge cool boxes and have great meals in the open air! In that respect they have the edge on UK ones which are designed to bring you inside to eat.
The dreaded peripherique! oh the horrors of driving around that in rain that was just pppsssssisting down!! and a stopover in Beaune and drinking the minibar dry….you are bringing all my memories of driving in France back to me Trish..and I am so glad I am not the only passenger that can't 'passenge' but sits upright and alert no matter how tired….hope to hear the rest of your holiday tales soon!
Oh you took me back to our hols last year! We've off to Tours in Sept. Not so far but we'll still have to tackle the holes in the ground!!
Libby – I'm glad we avoided the ring road. Never tried it but even on the map it scared the living daylights out of me. We were told later in the holiday there had been a 40 mile tailback on one of the weekend days!
jfb57 – we worked out that the service stations on the map marked with a thick line had more facilities than those with a thin one! So in two weeks I was always able to find a proper toilet.
We were near Tours years ago, lovely visit to Chateau Chambord.
Non, non non, stuff the Periphique just go straight through the centre de Paris like me when I map read and get lost. I became very gallic and luckily was able to comminucate through hand signals – just as well it was three o'clock in the morning and the lorry drivers were really the only ones on the roads…
Glad to know there is another phantom braker out there too!
This post has brought back many unpleasant memories. When we lived in France we used to take the Rouen/Chartres route. The gearbox on the car went just outside Evreux two days before Christmas – try getting an automatic gearbox mended in France… hopeless! We finally managed to get back to the UK (minus the car) on the last Eurostar out of Paris 500 euros poorer. Last December we decided to come back via Paris and got stuck on the peripherique for 2 hours. As a result we missed the ferry and had to sleep at the side of the road in Boulogne in sub-zero temperatures with two fractious cats in the back. The road to La Bugue is the only time I've ever been stuck in a proper traffic jam in rural France. I took my kids to the aquarium and spent most of the morning sitting in traffic trying to get into the town. I wrote a post about French toilets in my old blog and if you fancy a giggle you can read it here:
http://whatfrenchdream.blogspot.com/2008/10/french-toilets-suck.html
I'll be out of therapy soon!
Tattie – I have a fabulous image of you sailing through Paris, waving at everyone with such style!
Previously – what hideous tales: needed a lie down just reading them. And yes, what is it about Le Bugue and the strange traffic jam: it was a bugger to get to the Intermarche which was the other side of the town.
Have just read your post about the loos: do you still have thighs of steel?
That French SatNav tart! Mr GPants 'has' her over HERE!
I have my despicable contraption locked away in the glove compartment. I shan't be dissuaded! Even if I have just made that word up….
MSG – she was brazen, I tell you.
see this is y i would love 2 live in UK! u have such cool countries all around u. i actually want 2 live in a small town in England. & take holiday in UK,& also on the continent. someday,i hope! because the us men only like thin women!!!