Two 'eventful' uneventful weeks in France... (1 Viewer)

[NorthernSands]

Just finished our two week holiday in France. It was meant to be relaxing, but didn't start off that way!

This isn't the first time we set off across the Channel in a new-to-us Moho, that we've only had a week. We should have learned our lessons from last time....

Anyway, Pixie is the new Moho. An A-Class ~1996/97 Hymer E700. A tag-axle jobbie based on a '95 Fiat Ducato 2.5Tdi. More refined than our old Helga, an '86 Hymercamp 64, but still loud, only faster with it! It does have cab air-con, which is a real bonus.

The holiday started off in the normal fashion; running late on a Friday evening after work. We always plan to be off with plenty of time, but it never happens. We had foreseen this, though, and booked a late, well, early ferry at 01:00 Saturday morning. But we still had to push getting down the A1, A14, M11, M25, M20. Fortunately 'pushing' in Pixie is 70mph, rather than the languid and loud, might hit 60 (assuming no hills and headwinds) of Helga.

As it happens, all haste (I guess that should be 'speed') was for naught; climbing the hill after the nostrils, just passed Folkestone, saw us run out of diesel. Embarrassed, much? In my defense it turns out the fuel gauge is faulty, and we were mildly led to believe that it had a long-range tank. Certainly, when the dealer filled the tank on collection, it read just under half and he then put nearly eighty quid into her "I'm sure it's a long range tank on this one". Sigh.

If anyone knows the stretch of road in question, you'll recall it doesn't have a hard shoulder. Just a bit of verge and then the barrier. Uphill being the direction of travel meant we didn't have enough momentum to get close to the barrier so, a pause in heavies, we rolled back down the hill to get on the virge and to the barrier. Not enough! We had to leave her hanging a few inches into the lane with all those fast, big lorries!

Out we get with our Hi-Viz's on and call the breakdown company, handily taken out with Adrian Flux the week before. Now, some might have twigged that this is nearly midnight, so we got the night-shift.

"Sorry, Ma'am (the wife's policy), but you don't have cover with us". Mmmm.... Not a good start.

"But I'm six months pregnant (she is, too) and we definitely took out breakdown cover"

"Well, Ma'am, you're not on my list"

"But...!"

"Well, given your condition, what seems to be the problem?"

"We've run out of diesel"

"Oh, well, we don't cover that anyway, bye"

"But, the fuel gauge, see...."

"Sorry!"

"Sob.."

Well, that's a disaster. So, I tried a different tack: I called the AA. We do have an any car policy with them, but I know, 'cause I asked, that it doesn't cover Moho's more than 3.5T, including us. But surely worth a shot.

"Hello, Sir (my policy). How can I help?"

"We've run out of diesel"

"OK, that's no problem. Can I take the registration number?"

"Er, yeah, it's...."

"So (he reads slowly, with a questioning lift at the end), that's a motorhome. A 4.5T motorhome...?"

"Yes. Look, I know you don't cover it, but my wife's six months pregnant, and it really is just diesel we need" plead, beg...

"Ah, right, let's see..... We'll have someone with you in an hour".

Result!

A lovely chap turned up from Ashford, gave ("A gift, sir. I'll put it on the fuel card and boss can pay. I'll put on the form it was customer purchased") 10 litres of diesel and saw us safely to the BP garage in Dover. "Good job it self bleeds". Too right!

Funnily, our boat was still in dock, being nearly two hours late itself, but full. We ended up on the 03:20, so had some kip.

 

[David and Sally]

Wow......what a start to the trip.

 

[suavecarve]

Hopefully it improved from there on in

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[NorthernSands]

The crossing was the normal night service: full, loud, nothing to do, and no where to sit. Calais loomed and we hit the road again. But still knackered, so stopped for another kip at Aire des Deux Cap.

Some time later, we hit the road again, feeling more refreshed, lucky and looking forward to our holiday, with all eventful stuff behind us! Yeah, right.

Given how late it was that morning, we decided to add a stop on the way South and take it easy. Hunting through All the Aires resulted in Saint Suzanne, near Le Mans. It was one of those Pass'Etapes thingies and it took me a while to realise I had to buy a card, then top it up for the night's stay. OK, whatever.

Saint Suzanne is lovely. A nice, small, hilltop town with old castle walls and a mostly intact keep. That night, however, was 13th July, and warm up night for Bastille Day.

Festivities were abound and the locals were having a town feast, complete umpa band playing pop song covers. We found a restaurant still serving and had a lovely meal and pichet of wine (re. the wine: I did, the missus did not on account of being with Sprout). The band then umpa'd into the small square, playing Coldplay or somesuch. They clearly had a fan club (the whole town, it seemed), and the place got rammed. We paid and yawned our way back to Pixie.

Later, around 23:00, the missus nudged me awake so I could enjoy the firework display. Thanks.

Next morning was blissful. I trudged off to find the local boulangerie and the regulation breakfast: "Deux Croissant, deux Pain au Chocolat, et..., oooh, a Croissant aux Almandes for the missus! Oui, ça, Mai, soulement un Croissant, et une baguette, sil'vous'plait". Brownie points thus secured, to pay off the midnight roadside retreat of yesterday, we then wondered around the beautiful town, with wonderful views.

Our next destination was Richelieu. As in Cardinal Richelieu. A small historic town near Chinon. We'd stopped in the latter many times; we like the wine, campsite, wine, food, wine, the view, wine and it's location in France for a first / last stopping point. The wine's good, too. We also figured Richelieu would be a good place for Bastille Day evening. Maybe it is, I can't tell you.

 

[Grianan]

Thumbs up to the AA. Hope you have a fantastic trip.

 

[NorthernSands]

So, we left Saint Suzanne and added it as a what-if (we could buy in France). It was stunning.

The missus can’t drive Pixie (too young for a Grandmother licence), so job one for her, when we hit the road, was to phone up Adrian Flux and query the break down cover. “Yes, you are covered. Ah, the night shift have a different list. Yes, we’ll ensure you’re on their list. No, we don’t cover running out of fuel. Ah, not sure when it’s the fuel gauge at fault, but I’m sure not”. And on we rolled.

Not far from Chinon and this device lying on the dashboard starts beeping.

“What’s that?” Says the missus.

“Er...”

“What gadget have you bought now??”

“Well, it’s called a TyrePal and it measures the pressure and temperature of the tyres”

“So, why is it beeping?”

“Well, I guess one of the tyres is going down. Have a look”

“What, one of the six brand new super expensive Michelin Camper tyres? Ah, yes, front right is going down!”

So, we pull off the road and I head to said tyre. I can definitely hear hissing. From the TyrePal sensor. Oh bugger, this won’t go down well. Fiddle with the sensor, hissing gets worse, then the sensor, and the entire insides of the valve come away in my hands. The tyre rapidly deflates. Well, me thinks, at least it’s not my new gadget! Ah, interesting; this is the only rubber valve. All the others are metal.

So, back on the phone to Flux Rescue:

“Hello, ma’am, how can we help?”

“We have a flat tyre. We have a spare, but no way to change it”

“Right, I’ll put you through to our European section”

...

“Allo. How can zi help?”

“We have a flat tyre. We have a spare, but no way to change it”

“Ah, OK. Ve’ll ave someone there soon”

Patiently waiting....

So, the breakdown truck finally arrives. Looks at the spare, looks at the motor home.

“Vere is zi cric. Zi jack?”

“Don’t have one. It weighs 4500KG. We have breakdown cover”

“You must have zi jack. Let me look”

He proceeds to check the engine bay, under the seats, in the garage, looks for floor hatches, wants to know what’s in each external locker. Pas de cric.

“Where’s your cric?” I ask. He shows me the most pathetically small scissor jack. “Non” is my swift reply. He apologises and leaves. We phone the breakdown company again.

“Ah, pas de cric?”

“Oui”

“Ah”

“We are 4500KG. We can’t carry a ‘cric’ big enough. We have breakdown cover for that”

“OK. Ve’ll have zi new homme soon”

We wait.

Second man arrives: “Pas de cric?”

“Oui”

“Pas de problem”. Phew!!

Actually, the jack isn’t quite big enough, so he chocks it on wood. I turn my back.

With the wheel successfully changed, I swap on the TyrePal sensor. Mmm, low pressure.

“Avez vous un pompe?”

“Non”

“......!!!”

So out comes the bike track pump. This is going to take a while....

On the road again but, time waits for no man, so we abort Richelieu and head for the campsite in Chinon, our old friend. Into town we go, into the one way system, round to the mini-roundabout at the end of the bridge, and the site is a mere 25m away. Behind a Police road block. Huh, Bastille Day, of course! Back into the one way system and down the very narrow back roads, wrong way down the one way street and into the camp site.

It’s getting late, so we don’t even level, just shower and head out for food. We passed a place that looked nice, which turned out to be Lebanese. Yum!

Once we’d eaten, we joined the milling crowds for what turns out to be the most amazing fireworks display. I thought it might be special when not only the city lights go out, but also the chateau lights, on the cliffs opposite. I wasn’t wrong. The display was clearly designed to make it look like the storming of the Bastille, complete with lighting and smoke that made the chateau look like it was on fire. Superb.

Up late the next day, but thankfully now Monday, so things will be open. Like tyre places. I found one near by and we head off to the Super-U on the way. Now, the first shop is always a big one, and I should have accounted for that, but I didn’t. We finally exit Super-U, I check the time: 12:05. Which means that all useful tyre places have just closed for their 2 hour lunch. Sigh.

3 hours and thirty odd Euros later (that new metal valve must have been pricey), we were back on the road.

Footnote: more brownie points from the missus when she realises my new ‘gadget’ potentially paid for itself by saving the tyre.

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[Figaro]

Wow, what an eventful trip so far, i cant wait for the next installment.

 

[Anthea M]

Loving the trip , hope the next instalment is more relaxing!!

 

[Hollyberry]

You have to hand it to the French, the know how to do a good fete! I really miss living there

Hope the rest of your trip is less eventful motorhome-wise.

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[DerryW]

Neither can I, I know its wrong to laugh at others misfortune, but as I sit here reading this I'm having a chuckle to myself. In spite of everything that's thrown at the OP and his Spouse they seem as though they took it all in their stride, and didn't let it spoil their holiday. Good on Them!!

The sort you wouldn't mind bumping into for a chat over a pint.

 

[Clarky]

Neither can I, I know its wrong to laugh at others misfortune, but as I sit here reading this I'm having a chuckle to myself. In spite of everything that's thrown at the OP and his Spouse they seem as though they took it all in their stride, and didn't let it spoil their holiday. Good on Them!!

The sort you wouldn't mind bumping into for a chat over a pint.

Spot on!
Bravo! Despite the problems a very entertaining read.

Richard

 

[SpeedyDux]

After a front tyre on the previous van deflated a couple of miles after leaving the house, due to the valve innards loosening, I now carry a tyre valve tool to retighten the little swine if this should happen again. I don't have tyrepal. The clue was the woolly steering feel at the roundabout, so I pulled over and saw the front tyre was deflating and I could hear hissing.

Instead of changing the wheel at the roadside, I put some more air into the tyre with a 12v Maplin compressor. Then I discovered that the valve dust cap can hold quite a lot of pressure if you screw it tightly, which in my case held long enough to drive carefully to the nearest tyre fitters where they mended the faulty valve. Job done.

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[Reallyretired]

In my experience, breakdown services in France (and some in UK too) don't seem to carry much in the way of tools. Even one tyre place didn't possess a jack, and our mh too big to go on their lift. We do now carry a 2ton bottle jack and a 12v compressor for that reason.

 

[Wendo55]

Wow what a fantastic picture of the chateau! Have you seen the "Photo of the day " thread?

 

[DBK]

The crossing was the normal night service: full, loud, nothing to do, and no where to sit. Calais loomed and we hit the road again. But still knackered, so stopped for another kip at Aire des Deux Cap.

Some time later, we hit the road again, feeling more refreshed, lucky and looking forward to our holiday, with all eventful stuff behind us! Yeah, right.

Given how late it was that morning, we decided to add a stop on the way South and take it easy. Hunting through All the Aires resulted in Saint Suzanne, near Le Mans. It was one of those Pass'Etapes thingies and it took me a while to realise I had to buy a card, then top it up for the night's stay. OK, whatever.

Saint Suzanne is lovely. A nice, small, hilltop town with old castle walls and a mostly intact keep. That night, however, was 13th July, and warm up night for Bastille Day.

Festivities were abound and the locals were having a town feast, complete umpa band playing pop song covers. We found a restaurant still serving and had a lovely meal and pichet of wine (re. the wine: I did, the missus did not on account of being with Sprout). The band then umpa'd into the small square, playing Coldplay or somesuch. They clearly had a fan club (the whole town, it seemed), and the place got rammed. We paid and yawned our way back to Pixie.

Later, around 23:00, the missus nudged me awake so I could enjoy the firework display. Thanks.

Next morning was blissful. I trudged off to find the local boulangerie and the regulation breakfast: "Deux Croissant, deux Pain au Chocolat, et..., oooh, a Croissant aux Almandes for the missus! Oui, ça, Mai, soulement un Croissant, et une baguette, sil'vous'plait". Brownie points thus secured, to pay off the midnight roadside retreat of yesterday, we then wondered around the beautiful town, with wonderful views.

Our next destination was Richelieu. As in Cardinal Richelieu. A small historic town near Chinon. We'd stopped in the latter many times; we like the wine, campsite, wine, food, wine, the view, wine and it's location in France for a first / last stopping point. The wine's good, too. We also figured Richelieu would be a good place for Bastille Day evening. Maybe it is, I can't tell you.

Thanks for the info on Sainte Suzanne. We usually sail to Roscoff so we might be able to swerve by there on one of our trips. The Camping-car Parks places can be useful and,* though they aren't the cheapest, now you have a card entering others in the chain will be a bit easier. Sadly, their website and app are very clunky but if your persevere they can be mastered.

* Note correct use of a comma after "and". **

** Topical political reference.

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[Sandancers]

Loving the tales of the French trip.

 

[NorthernSands]

Day three (or four; I'm always a little confused after a night crossing) and we were rolling South again, after having the valve repaired (metal one, if you please) and wheel put back in its place. Yes, we were late again, so back to All the Aires. Mortagne-sur-Gironde caught our eye, so off we went.

The journey was uneventful, thankfully, and we arrived in the right town. Narrow streets and one way systems abound, so I took my time, only to be cut up by a Froggie Moho. "Ooooh, if he gets the last spot....!". Blood boiling, I chased him down, in the 30KM/h zone. Needless to say, he got well away. I followed my nose, got lost and ended up outside the camping site, at the Maypole and it's fabulous views. I was heading to the port, which was now tens of metres below, so we rejoined the minor mayhem of the small French town's one way system, and found the way down.

A pretty harbour awaited, with the Moho parking down one side. We passed the first of such areas to not find any spaces, but passed a small orchard and run down house, there was further parking and space. We whiled away our time with game of Carcassonne and an evening meal, then dozed until around 22:30 when we headed out for the expected fireworks.

The small harbour lies at the end of a dredged channel from the tidal Gironde river, passing our parking spot and on to the main harbour area. As the tide was now out, the moored boats in the channel we're now resting on the mud flats, but the upper harbour proper was behind lock gates and flooded. It was these gates we headed for as they provided a bridging point. On leaving our section of parking area we came across a road block, but enough room to walk around, so figured this was OK. It was not. Half way between there and the gates someone started shouting and gesticulating wildly, telling us to go back and be careful. We blindly carried on, saying "Pardon? Quoi?", "Nous allons jusqu'a las bas". The grumbling man assented and escorted us over, before running back to the car park blockade to prevent more people heading over. Bit odd, we thought, then crossed the lock gates.

At bang on 23:00 a PA system fired up, blasting music out, then the lights died and the display started. Right where we'd just walked though. Oops. Once more an excellent display, but clearly a private company doing a set piece of fireworks to pop songs and so on. No smoking chateau, but thoroughly entertaining. And no shouty man on the way back, but many spent fireworks we saw in the now lit torch light.