Timeline : Circa 1978 Location : Andorra , Spain & South of France
I had decided that Sheelagh was to be my true love and invited her on holiday and asked my darling where she would like to go. Sheelagh answered swiftly - "Andorra Baggy - we could camp if you like " - "yes that would be lovely I replied - I love camping!" In actual fact I had never camped in my life so went off to the local Barratts of Feckenham to take advice and buy the required gear which I loaded into the boot of my ancient but luxurious Volvo . This Volvo had already scuppered one night of passion as when picking up Sheelagh one night I turned on the heated seats (quite rare back then) in the hope that the gentle warmth would get Sheelagh "in the mood" but was crestfallen in the extreme when Sheelagh announced that I needed to take her home as she thought she might have a nasty kidney infection as her lower back was "on fire" ! I explained the heated seats but alas the damage was done !
So all packed with passports ready we drove to Dover and caught the ferry to Calais and arrived in port at about 1.00am after which I drove through the night while Sheelagh slumbered and making one fuel stop we arrived at La Rochelle at about 8.00am. La Rochelle was a fascinating town steeped in history with its foundation in the 10th Century , its English rule under Plantagenets in the 12th Century through to the German submarine base during WW11 . A really charming town and of course on the wonderful exhilarating Atlantic ocean. After a hearty breakfast in a waterside café we explored the town before finding the campsite where it became patently obvious that I had never pitched a tent in my life - however with help from Sheelagh we managed!
The next day saw us head for Toulouse a wonderful city that has many of my favoured things in life - the wonderful architecture of Le Corbusier , probably my favourite food - Cassoulet , Rugby & ruddy good wine from Gaillac - what more can one want! We spent the afternoon exploring this wonderful city and then on to camping a la ferme at Villefranche de Lauragais some twenty odd miles away . There was a wonderful little restaurant attached to this very small farm camping where there was no menu , no choice but our "Hobson's Choice" offering was truly sensational with home made duck cassoulet lovingly prepared from the ducks on their pond. After this wonderful supper washed down with plenty of wine we took to our cosy tent and slept well and late in a reasonably well pitched tent!
Day three saw us take things nice and slowly towards Andorra with an extended lunch stop in Foix on the climb up the Pyrenees and I had not realised how slow this part of the journey would be - twisty roads and lots of traffic all the way up which meant that we didn't approach Andorra till after nightfall with heavy fog to boot. I hate driving in fog and eventually found what seemed like a decent grassy pull off with space to pitch the tent so in thick fog with driving drizzle we pitched hastily and took to our not very well pitched tent . The next morning I awoke to a loud yelp from Sheelagh standing outside the tent - we had pitched no more than 30ft from a 2000ft sheer drop over a precipice ! Lesson learned!
Andorra , whilst pretty geographically wasn't the inspiring place we had hoped for and the town was a bit like a giant supermarket in the sky selling all the tax free booze and fags you could ever want! We spent the morning shopping and sightseeing but were both a little disappointed and unnerved from the previous evening and decided to move on.
We decided to have a look at the Spanish side of the Pyrenees and ended up in the most idyllic little village called Artesa de Segre where there was a beautiful little riverside campsite only used by Spanish people from Barcelona and the like - this was truly the most beautiful place I have ever camped at with lovely invigorating river swimming and a lovely little bar. We stayed here for five or six days and apart from Sheelagh finding out that drinking half a litre of Fundador Spanish brandy in one night is not good for you we had a lovely time.
We then decided we had have quick look up on The Camargue in France - to hopefully see the white horses and take in a little of "non Riviera" Mediterranean France so headed up for Montpellier .We ended up in another pleasing campsite, though larger and more commercial, at L'Espiguette on the coast to the south east of Montpellier . We spent two days here before the "big drive" back up to Calais and on the second day the wind was blowing a real storm and I feared for the tent so to be on the safe side lashed it to the back of the Volvo as well as checking all the pegs . We went to the bar and absorbed plenty of wine & Cognac and I began to think that perhaps this would be my last night of passion for a while so with this in mind we returned through the howling gale to the tent thinking what better - a warm snug tent with the rain coming down on the canvas - very atmospheric. My ardour was short-lived as there was just a sodden mess of tent flapping in the gale but thankfully still attached to the car! Sheelagh stated the obvious " Well we will have to sleep in the car" I admit I was furious and also very unrequited in the "love department" and sat in the car moaning and smoking as Sheelagh fell into a slumber . But every cloud has a silver lining - the couple pitched next door , a rather arrogant German couple, were on a motorbike with a small tent with no sewn in groundsheet and suddenly their tent blew away and the site of them scurrying about naked in the rain amused me greatly and I started howling with uncontrollable laughter . This , of course, woke Sheelagh who said " oh for goodness sake let them in our car Baggy" - "not ruddy likely" I replied!
I suppose the moral is there is always somebody worse off than you!
I had decided that Sheelagh was to be my true love and invited her on holiday and asked my darling where she would like to go. Sheelagh answered swiftly - "Andorra Baggy - we could camp if you like " - "yes that would be lovely I replied - I love camping!" In actual fact I had never camped in my life so went off to the local Barratts of Feckenham to take advice and buy the required gear which I loaded into the boot of my ancient but luxurious Volvo . This Volvo had already scuppered one night of passion as when picking up Sheelagh one night I turned on the heated seats (quite rare back then) in the hope that the gentle warmth would get Sheelagh "in the mood" but was crestfallen in the extreme when Sheelagh announced that I needed to take her home as she thought she might have a nasty kidney infection as her lower back was "on fire" ! I explained the heated seats but alas the damage was done !
So all packed with passports ready we drove to Dover and caught the ferry to Calais and arrived in port at about 1.00am after which I drove through the night while Sheelagh slumbered and making one fuel stop we arrived at La Rochelle at about 8.00am. La Rochelle was a fascinating town steeped in history with its foundation in the 10th Century , its English rule under Plantagenets in the 12th Century through to the German submarine base during WW11 . A really charming town and of course on the wonderful exhilarating Atlantic ocean. After a hearty breakfast in a waterside café we explored the town before finding the campsite where it became patently obvious that I had never pitched a tent in my life - however with help from Sheelagh we managed!
The next day saw us head for Toulouse a wonderful city that has many of my favoured things in life - the wonderful architecture of Le Corbusier , probably my favourite food - Cassoulet , Rugby & ruddy good wine from Gaillac - what more can one want! We spent the afternoon exploring this wonderful city and then on to camping a la ferme at Villefranche de Lauragais some twenty odd miles away . There was a wonderful little restaurant attached to this very small farm camping where there was no menu , no choice but our "Hobson's Choice" offering was truly sensational with home made duck cassoulet lovingly prepared from the ducks on their pond. After this wonderful supper washed down with plenty of wine we took to our cosy tent and slept well and late in a reasonably well pitched tent!
Day three saw us take things nice and slowly towards Andorra with an extended lunch stop in Foix on the climb up the Pyrenees and I had not realised how slow this part of the journey would be - twisty roads and lots of traffic all the way up which meant that we didn't approach Andorra till after nightfall with heavy fog to boot. I hate driving in fog and eventually found what seemed like a decent grassy pull off with space to pitch the tent so in thick fog with driving drizzle we pitched hastily and took to our not very well pitched tent . The next morning I awoke to a loud yelp from Sheelagh standing outside the tent - we had pitched no more than 30ft from a 2000ft sheer drop over a precipice ! Lesson learned!
Andorra , whilst pretty geographically wasn't the inspiring place we had hoped for and the town was a bit like a giant supermarket in the sky selling all the tax free booze and fags you could ever want! We spent the morning shopping and sightseeing but were both a little disappointed and unnerved from the previous evening and decided to move on.
We decided to have a look at the Spanish side of the Pyrenees and ended up in the most idyllic little village called Artesa de Segre where there was a beautiful little riverside campsite only used by Spanish people from Barcelona and the like - this was truly the most beautiful place I have ever camped at with lovely invigorating river swimming and a lovely little bar. We stayed here for five or six days and apart from Sheelagh finding out that drinking half a litre of Fundador Spanish brandy in one night is not good for you we had a lovely time.
We then decided we had have quick look up on The Camargue in France - to hopefully see the white horses and take in a little of "non Riviera" Mediterranean France so headed up for Montpellier .We ended up in another pleasing campsite, though larger and more commercial, at L'Espiguette on the coast to the south east of Montpellier . We spent two days here before the "big drive" back up to Calais and on the second day the wind was blowing a real storm and I feared for the tent so to be on the safe side lashed it to the back of the Volvo as well as checking all the pegs . We went to the bar and absorbed plenty of wine & Cognac and I began to think that perhaps this would be my last night of passion for a while so with this in mind we returned through the howling gale to the tent thinking what better - a warm snug tent with the rain coming down on the canvas - very atmospheric. My ardour was short-lived as there was just a sodden mess of tent flapping in the gale but thankfully still attached to the car! Sheelagh stated the obvious " Well we will have to sleep in the car" I admit I was furious and also very unrequited in the "love department" and sat in the car moaning and smoking as Sheelagh fell into a slumber . But every cloud has a silver lining - the couple pitched next door , a rather arrogant German couple, were on a motorbike with a small tent with no sewn in groundsheet and suddenly their tent blew away and the site of them scurrying about naked in the rain amused me greatly and I started howling with uncontrollable laughter . This , of course, woke Sheelagh who said " oh for goodness sake let them in our car Baggy" - "not ruddy likely" I replied!
I suppose the moral is there is always somebody worse off than you!
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