8. Jun, 2016

TUESDAY 07-06-16

We both had a rough night last night. Rosina due to her cold and me due to her snoring and a mosquito trapped in the vehicle which continually buzzed around my head. Added to that I guess the Dutch neighbours couldn't sleep due to the heat and got up to watch some television with the windows open.

I eventually got up and turned the light on to kill the mosquito, but just couldn't find it, so back to bed I went.

Vehicle movements began at 06:30 believe it or not, those few vehicles must either have been trying to clear the very busy road around the St Tropez area before rush hour, or they had heard the Vietcong were planning a dawn raid.

Consequently neither of us was in a hurry to get up, but we knew we had to be stood at the bus stop by 10:15 to catch the second bus of the morning in to St Tropez, if we missed it the next one wasn't until 12:30.

As we'd bought 100 litres of fresh water with us we would both have showers today and tomorrow to use some of it up. We could have showers here on the Aire but firstly the facilities are very basic indeed and secondly the farmer who owns it has the cheek to charge an additional €2 to have one. Needless to say I will be giving' Vicarious Book's, who produce the Aires publications, feedback on this site, hopefully future travellers will be able to make an 'informed' choice.

Whilst having breakfast with the door open, our ex-matelot next door neighbour came across the back of our pitch to unhook his electrical connection and bid us farewell. They were off inland, probably up towards the gorge, The Chef's favourite place. I was then reminded that they had told us last night that they'd biked in to St Tropez yesterday and found it rather disappointing.

It was a lovely warm sunny morning and a pleasure to take a slow stroll to the bus stop in plenty of time.

Once again French public transport came up trumps. Two single bus tickets for a thirty-five minute ride in to St Tropez - a total of €1, about eighty pence. The ride in to town was quite uncomfortable, the suspension on the bus was rock hard, it felt as if it had solid wooden wheels. Never mind it did the job.

The bus dropped us off right in the centre and there was a market taking place on the opposite side of the road.

Down to the marina we went as a starter. It was all very nice I have to say, but in all honesty once you've seen one, you've seen them all. The one big difference with this marina was that it was very busy, with sailing and motor yachts continually coming and going. All others we've visited seem to be moorings for boats that hardly ever move.

There was no beach to speak of, mainly due to the fact that the tide was in, but according to the St Tropez map even when it's out it can't be anything special. The Chef was feeling a bit rough and having taken sufficient pictures and video shots we made our way through the pretentious, grossly overpriced, fancy labelled, shopping areas to arrive at the market for lunch. Having walked past all those tourists being ripped off for their pavement lunches we paid €14 for a grilled tomato and cheese baguette each, two portions of fries (The Chef wasn't hungry) a small beer and a bottle of water. We then sat on a bench in the sunshine close to the bus stop and enjoyed eating it. That's pavement-style eating without the price tag - and we could still people-watch for free.

Having dined in style it was over the road to have a wander around the market to kill some time before the bus left at 14:30. Well I have to say, today was the first time I have ever come across a pretentious market. There were stalls selling thin men's tops for €19, and a stall selling mens linen shirts for €80, and another selling what looked like woven straw shopping bags, the sort of thing some poor, exploited brown chap sits crossed legged somewhere in Africa and makes for almost nothing, and here they're selling for €80. There must be a market for mugs willing to pay that kind of money or the stallholders wouldn't be there.

For our return trip we had the same bus driver who remembered us and the stop we wanted on our return journey. We arrived back much sooner than we expected as the bus didn't go all through the suburbs on its return trip.

Once back The Chef took to her bed for a rest. She's a game old bird, a bit like the local cockerel which likes to crow all day long.

This evenings meal will be a baguette with something in it, rather than the barbecued chicken we had planned. It's the most odd thing here in France. You can buy skinless chicken breast, or fillet, in packs of, say four, really cheaply. But ask for them with the skin attached 'Mon Amis!' Suddenly you are propelled in to dog-turd luxury dining. Such a delicacy is clearly reserved for those palettes educated in the art of fine dining, those palettes which can appreciate eating the bits that Brits throw away or eat unwittingly in sausages. Back at our favourite supermarket in Villenouve-Loubet two chicken breasts with their skins on cost us an unbelievable €9.50, about £7. Before realising the price I had asked for four, he shrugged his shoulders, probably thinking 'Flash Git', and explained that they were the last two. That saved our bacon, otherwise I would have had to sell The Chef in to slavery to pay for them, and then had to do the cooking myself.

I can now hear the rumble of thunder. We've wound our awning in, second time of use in three years, and The Chef is now having yet another lie down.................... I'll give her a nudge when I'm feeling hungry.

Tomorrow we are due to leave this mosquito-ridden Vietnamese war zone and make for a campground by the beach, a much nicer place for her to feel ill rather than here.

8. Jun, 2016

8. Jun, 2016

8. Jun, 2016

8. Jun, 2016

MONDAY 06-06-16

We were up in good time as there was lots to do before we left the campsite this morning. Scrubbed up we completed the chores to prepare the vehicle for the road before heading off to the supermarket for some shopping. The young lady on the checkout was very friendly and her English was very good which I felt I should complement her on, which she appreciated.

Once the shopping was stored I started the engine to warm her up to operating temperature before moving off. Rosina went up to pay our fees at Reception, cash of course (they're getting as bad as the Greeks), whilst I did the final bits. She came back not too happy as they had put their fees up during our stay, one way or another it cost us about twenty Euro's more than it should have. We reckon they upped the prices for the Italian National Surrender Day weekend and we all got caught up in it. In a way I was sorry to be leaving the site as it is such a good location away from the maddening crowds, yet just a short train or bus ride to join them should we wish, but we have to keep moving on.

We were heading for a commercial Aire outside of St Tropez, sadly there are no campgrounds in the town. The theory being that we could catch a bus in to St Tropez tomorrow for a look round before heading north towards Lalley, south of Grenoble on Wednesday.

Much of the journey was done on the toll road before coming off and heading south towards St Tropez on a single carriageway road for about twenty miles. The route we approached on took us through St Tropez, which looked very busy and touristy indeed. Never mind we were here to tick a box really, you can't pass so close without visiting it, so that is what we're doing.

The Commercial Aire (GPS:N43.264611º W6.671948º) was down a long narrow single track road, I've no idea what we would have done had we met something coming the other way. On arrival it was pretty basic and very overpriced at €16 a night, that's as much as a campground with far superior facilities.

Once we'd got ourselves sorted I got chatting to the English couple next door, and discovered he was an ex matelot, so we had a bit of a chat about that, then it was time to soak up a bit of sunshine sat in our reclining high-backed chairs. The Chef's cold seems to be pulling her down a bit now, so we may need to rethink how we play the next few days.

We are parked on the edge of the site and kept seeing people walking past the Aire from our left to right. We thought that must be the direction of the beach, advertised as a distance of 150 metres. We therefore decided that before we had our evening meal we'd have a wander down there to have a look.

Well we walked and we walked, at a brisk pace for 35 minutes before we found the beach, and it was nothing special at all. Needless to say we did an about turn and made our way back. Along the route there was tall bamboo growing along both sides of the road, behind that tall trees, and above us helicopters buzzed around, I suppose either doing tourist trips or ferrying the rich around. It was like something out of the Vietnam war movie  'Apocalypse Now'.

When we were almost back to the Aire we found the bus stop on a road running parallel to the one we were on, so tomorrow we'll be playing tourists in St Tropez (we later discovered the beach we wanted was a right turn out of the site, not a left).

This evenings meal was a ham salad deliberately chosen because we had planned to stay on an Aire, which don't usually supply electricity. However, this private one does and includes it in the price whether you want it or not. Needless to say the salad was accompanied by lovely crusty bread and a drop of Coat Door Own rosé wine.

We've paid for two nights at this overpriced Aire and have now decided that since the weather forecast for Lalley isn't too promising, (the idea was that we would go hiking there for two or three days) we will probably now move from here to a nice looking campsite we passed on a sandy beach as we approached St Tropez for a couple of nights, rather than sit in the middle of nowhere for a few days unable to get out due to the weather. This will give The Chef a chance to relax and rest in the warm sunshine, well unless it rains here as well of course.

We both got well and truly bitten during our walk to the beach late this afternoon, I think we'll have to start taking precautions against mosquitoes etc as from tomorrow.