15. Apr, 2016

THURSDAY 28-5-15

I don't usually wind down the corner steadies and last night was no exception. I had already experienced The Chef with a fit of the giggles when she came out of the bathroom having cleaned her teeth before we went to bed. Not long afterwards I felt the vehicle start to vibrate and then shudder, so I asked her "Are you laughing?", she was, and at my expense. I must therefore share with you my senior moment from yesterday.

The Reception Office at the entrance to the campground has a steel framed glazed front with very heavily tinted glass, it's also quite dark inside, I suppose that's to make life more bearable when it gets very hot. So anyway, on our return to the campground yesterday I suggested we pop in, tell the guy that we wanted to stay about a week and also wanted the electricity.

So there I was pulling and pushing the ‘door’ to try and get in, I tried pulling and pushing it on both sides, shaking it, bloody thing, and then it was pointed out to me by a bemused Chef that it was a sliding door - and it was already open, the openning being one pace to my right. I felt a complete idiot, not helped by the look of disbelief on the face of the chap behind the reception desk facing me, who of course won't tell a soul about it will he? At least it gave The Chef a good giggle, though I will take a photograph of the door before we leave as evidence for the defence.

We awoke to a lovely sunny morning. This was to be chores day, I rigged a washing line up and we both did our bits of washing. I then wound the corner steadies at the back down, so now I won't feel the vibrations as much whilst The Chef is trying to suppress a good old laugh at my expense.

We've agreed to throw away the fresh milk we bought in Slovenia. It's very creamy, tasting rather like Carnation milk, and it's spoiling the taste of the cereal and my cups of tea.

After the chores came a period of relaxation sat outside in the sun.

This evenings meal was a very nice curry with The Chef deviating from the set recipe with very pleasing results. After letting it all settle we set out for an evening stroll to find the bus stops and railway station which we will need to get around whilst we're here. The railway station is just across the road from the beach which is a very nice location indeed for a station.

We walked back through the marina and hotel complex, expecting it to be quite busy, but it wasn't at all.

Tomorrow we plan to catch a 200 service bus in to Nice. I'm hoping we can get a fairly early start so that we can be confident of knocking it off in one day. We then plan to chill over the weekend followed by Monday and Tuesday in Monaco, getting there by train.

15. Apr, 2016

WEDNESDAY 27-5-15

We really didn't sleep at all well last night; the noise from the road had been terrible from about 05:00. The morning though was lovely, warm and sunny. Perhaps at last the weather was finally on the turn. After scrubbing up and breakfast we were on the road, though I deliberately didn't want to start the journey until about 09:00 to give all the maniac Spiks a chance to get to work first. We had just a quarter of a tank of fuel, and so due to the price we decided to get about €50 worth and then look to fill the tank up properly further afield, when hopefully the price would have dropped.

Down on to the toll road then, where soon afterwards we got a view of the snow-capped Italian Alps before we changed roads and headed south on the E25/A26. This was to be the road that would take us down through the mountains to the Mediterranean where we'd turn right and travel along the coast. That road was so much quieter, and we settled down to enjoy the scenery. The first unusual thing we noticed was that so many of the fields were water-logged, we knew we'd have an awful lot of rain last night but surely not that much.

As time went on we could see that this was a deliberate act as the edges of the fields were dammed and there was an irrigation/drainage system in place. We originally thought they were paddy fields then quickly dismissed the idea. The Chef suggested that perhaps they were growing spaghetti (oh she's such a wit). Eventually it got the better of us and she leaned up above her head for the 'Italy' guidebook off the bookshelf. After a bit of thumbing through, she found - they were paddy fields. They do actually grow rice here, and an awful lot of it given the acreage given over to it.

The journey down to the Mediterrean was a delight, the scenery was really lovely, the only downside was that I wanted to top the tank up rather than having to keep checking my fuel gauge, so in to the garage we went - €1.65 a litre! Five cents more than back at our 'digs'. Never mind says I, this is the last day the Spiks get to screw me.

At the 'bottom of the hill' we turned right and headed along the toll road travelling high above the Italian Riviera, and very nice it looked I have to say. I was getting peckish, and just when I was about to instigate my cunning plan The Chef asks "Shall we pull in to the rest area coming up for lunch?.....................perhaps you can get some pizza" The woman knows me too well!

One thing that fascinated us along the coast was the location of some of the rest areas and TruckStops. They were in prime sites with fabulous views across the sea, the kind of real estate a multi-millionaire would want to buy and build a villa.

Parked up, then in we go, pizza for me it is then. There wasn't much selection and I ended up with a rectangular piece of Margarita, ham and cheese really. It was heated and then almost folded in half before being wrapped in a couple of serviettes. The pizza was just like the little bit of Italy I'd seen - disappointing.

Back on the road we passed well known places including Monaco, which we didn't get to see anything of thanks to the huge number of tunnels we were passing through and concrete barriers. Following our not-so-trusty satnav we arrived here at Camping Hippodrome in Villeneuve-Loubet (GPS: N43.641882º E7.137931º), in good old Froggy France. We were lucky enough to bag a good pitch on this very small campsite. We are about a 10-15 minute walk to the beach set in a large bay, from which we can see Nice in one direction and Antibes  in the other. This campsite was selected because of its proximity to Monaco, Nice and Cannes with local buses and a train station to allow us to visit all of them. We were originally going to stay here for about four days without paying the extra €5.40 a night for electricity because we don't need to use very much, but having now had a nice walk all around the area we have decided to stay for not less than a week and have the electricity as well. It has all we could wish for. A lovely marina with posh yachts, an area beside it with hotels and a bit of cafe culture, a beach which isn't too busy, though for sand read large round pebbles, and to top it all a huge fabulous 'Casino' supermarket about a five minute walk away.

It is going to be lovely to just relax for a while, we've earned it.

15. Apr, 2016

15. Apr, 2016

15. Apr, 2016

TUESDAY  26-5-15

Oh dear what a bl***y day. Today was the kind of day which should have been videoed real-time, then shown to all those people who feel sorry for themselves, and how cruel the world is, and how unloved they are. Had they watched our day unfold I am confident they would have fallen on their knees, praised the Lord for the blessings they have, and swum to Africa to become missionaries.

At around 07:00 some poor great Alsatian (and I'm sorry to say there are several on this campground, most chained to stakes in the ground within their pitch area, looking extremely sad and bored) starts barking very loudly. Now we're in a canyon, a bit like a cove but with no water in it, and any loud sound echoes like mad. So this morning, for the second morning on the trot, we are to be woken by Rufus in fine vocal form plus his echoes.

On the road then at about 09:30 heading for Venice, being taken the long way round via Ljubljana by the Satnav, which was fine as it meant we did the whole journey on motorways, well toll roads actually, which meant that we got value for money using our vignette in Slovenia, before paying through the nose once we entered Italy.

I was a little sad to be leaving Slovenia, I think these folk have got things about right, and the scenery is beautiful. This is a country which would be particularly appreciated by those who like outdoor sports and adventures.

In to Italy then. Our destination was Camping Miramare at Punta Sabbioni on the eastern edge of Venice's lagoon. Since we were approaching from the east I expected to leave the East-West E55 toll road some way before the Venice area, then drop down on to the eastern peninsular of Venice, then travel along it to Punta Sabbioni.

As the miles ticked by and the directions given by the Satnav became even stranger it became obvious that something had gone wrong, but since I had been careful to punch in the co-ordinates correctly I thought we should just stick with it. We were now passing around Venice on the mainland and heading south. It was then that we spotted signs for 'Camping Fusina', which I was familiar with as I had it listed as one of my 'Plan B' campgrounds. Onward then, the air was blue. Eventually I decided enough was enough. I'd have turned around and gone back, but we were on a dead straight piece of road and there was just nowhere to turn round, so I just had to stick with it, heading towards somewhere called Chioggia, or  Sottomarina, or both. The journey was made more challenging by Spik drivers who just love to overtake when it just isn't safe to do so, they're not clever, or skilful, just reckless, and are only kept alive by better drivers who see that they're about to kill themselves, or more importantly others, and make allowances, and brake to let them in. We had a near miss ourselves and I hope I may have saved the recording on the dashcam.

The scenery was nothing like I'd expected. To my right was vast flat agricultural land, just like the Lincolnshire Fens, complete with irrigation channels controlled by small sluice gates,  and on my left it was more like the Louisiana swamplands, and somewhere out there beyond it, the Venice Lagoon, or maybe that was the lagoon. I bet they even have their own version of Hillbillies around these parts, the Spikbillies maybe, marrying their sisters and drinking Moonshine.

As we approached Sottomarina/Chioggia the swamp bit disappeared and on both sides of the road was smooth-as-glass water, and the sight of Venice far off in the distance to our left. We had one hell of a job finding the campgrounds here, most of them seemed to be off a very touristy stretch of beach, a bit like Great Yarmouth, in Norfolk, only with sunshine and a bit of class. The satnav was really messing us about. On arrival at camping Miramare my heart was not bounding with joy, and I asked The Chef to pop in and see if they had availability, but more importantly that we could get to Venice from there. Back she comes - we can get to Venice, it's a five minute walk to a bus stop, then a ten minute bus ride, followed by a TWO HOUR trip on a boat across the lagoon to Venice.

There was no way I was doing that (I should point out that The Chef has already been to Venice, this visit was mainly for my benefit).  "Right" says I, "That's it, we'll go back to that Camping Fusina, it's much closer to Venice, and we saw the signs for the ferry boats nearby". Back through moonshine country with the sight of Venice in the distance across the lagoon, probably about eight miles away. Our problem seems to have been that there are two Camping Miramare's, one on each peninsula and I had got them mixed up with the co-ordinates. As we got closer to Fusina's location The Chef calls out "Over there", so I quickly swung the vehicle down a side road which had a sign to the campground displayed. This didn't seem quite right somehow but they should know what they're doing. No they don't, and we finished up in a narrow dead-end road which I then had to back out of, complicated by the fact that a stupid Spik coach driver had just parked his coach right at the exit on to the wider road, and was walking about having a fag.

Back on track we followed the directions to Camping Fusina which the satnav was giving us, until we ended up in .............  a huge construction development. It looked as if it was a massive expansion of the port of Venice, which is actually on the mainland at Mestre. We turned lefts and rights, where we were eventually confronted by a pile of earth and a huge concrete support for the new flyover above. "THAT'S IT" I announced "SOD THEM, I'm done with Venice, we're off". So I found somewhere to pull over once we'd found our way out of the building site and fed in our next campground which was in the south of France.

It's true I could have driven all the way back up the toll road and then dropped back down to pick up the eastern peninsula, but that was a very long way, and I'd had enough. True, I'll probably never get to see Venice, but hey, I've visited the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas, and that will have to do, and there were no Spiks, cruise ship tour groups following somebody with a number on a stick, or mosquitoes there. I'm now waiting for Las Vegas to build the 'Blue Mosque Hotel & Casino' complex, then I'll fly back there to have a look at what I missed in Istanbul.

Back on the toll road heading west, the sky was starting to look very threatening. We knew there was rain due here today, that's why we decided to make today a travel day rather than sit back in Slovenia, where it's also forecast to rain, and do nothing.

We could see very heavy rain falling from the clouds ahead of us as well as flashes of lightening. As we approached each torrential downpour I would make sure we were in a safe position in the nearside lane doing a nice steady speed with no Spiks ahead or behind us for some distance. The most amazing thing was that every time there was a torrential downpour loads of drivers just parked under bridges on both sides of the roads. Motorcyclists were also doing it, but for them it's by far the most sensible and safe thing to do given the risk to themselves, but car drivers? Come on. Not only were they parked under the bridges but there were also lines of them parked all along the hard shoulder. Back home they would quite rightly have been nicked for that, because it's dangerous. It meant that those of us that kept moving at a safe speed had nowhere to dive to should we have a breakdown or avoiding action be required.

We were getting low on fuel; our golden rule is to fill up when the tank is on half, so that we always have a safety margin in the tank. We couldn't believe the rise in the fuel price since arriving in Italy this morning. Throughout the journey we've never paid more than the equivalent of £1 a litre. Here it is €1.60, and at about €1.40 to the pound, to us that is expensive. We were looking for a TruckStop to spend the night but were struggling to find somewhere suitable. I know The Chef had plans for an 'on the road' evening meal, but I wanted pizza. I was in Italy, and I wanted a slice of pizza at least. Tomorrow would be too late, as we would then be in France. Eventually we pulled over at a very small TruckStop facility only really big enough to hold about six Lorries and those spots were filled, so we parked across car parking spaces instead.

In to the restaurant/cafe we went. There it was on the board - pizza, I was a happy boy. We went to place an order - to be told the restaurant is closed. Can you believe it? It was only 7pm for heaven's sake, surely that's when a lot of people would be looking to eat, but no, the restaurant is closed. We'd have to order something from the cafe selection. I was knackered and there was no way I was  moving on looking for anywhere else, it was pouring with rain outside, the road was very busy, probably due to the fact that we were travelling through the Milan suburbs. In the end we settled for filled bread things, The Chef had a round bap with something in it and I had a long one with ham and cheese, then the next thing they're stuck on a grill and heated up. It seems that everything here in Italy is served warm with black lines all over it.

We spent the evening indoors listening to the rain and watching the flashes of lightening, all very impressive.