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We’re all aboard the Covid Express to Cyprus courtesy of Jet2. Fly with us they say we’re taking precautions and caring for you. Everyone on board must wear masks.

Apart from the SS (Stupid and Selfish), it was a pretty good flight. Being sat at the back we thought we’d be last off but they disembark from front and rear row by row. We’re through Cyprus Covid Pass check and customs within minutes. Spoilt by a 20-minute wait for luggage.

Hertz is a 10-minute bureaucratic and paperwork extravaganza, and oh £28 extra as we’re geriatrics – Mr Hertz and I will be discussing age discrimination in due course. But, Presidents Circle membership, gets Wendy to drive free and they’ve upgraded us by about 5 levels to a fairly new superb Kia Stonic SUV. What is it with Hertz in the EU, are they trying to suck up to the EU by showing how bureaucratic they can be? Love Hertz in America, you just walk up and select any car from the Presidents Circle bay.

Apple maps can’t seem to cope in Cyprus so we have to resort to Google maps. What a nightmare of a journey, in the dark, down every side road. I’m amazed we didn’t have to open any gates and cross a few fields. What the hell is Google maps up to? have they gone Climate Change mad and tried to find the shortest route rather than straight up the main coast road. Give me Apple maps any day.

Finally, arrive and set off on foot and torch to find our villa.

Settle in, then a quick, well not really, nip to the supermarket for tomorrow’s breakfast and a few beers. Wow, they sell Hofbrau Original.

Settle in and then off out for dinner. As we’re not going on a cruise, which Wendy loves because she doesn’t have to cook, I’ve said we’ll eat out every night. It’s a five-minute walk up to the main strip with oodles of restaurants to choose from. Wow, service. We read the outdoor menu and they come dashing out to greet us. We finally decide and the doors opened for us and we’re ushered to our table. We both settle for the Cyprus Platter, macaroni dish, kleftiko, keftedes and salad, all washed down by a local beer served in a barrel glass at my request. It’s awesome, I could easily live on this for a fortnight.

Home to bed.

 

 

 

 

Lazy start with breakfast on the patio, sat in the sun enjoying the sea view. This is the life.

Laze around all morning, settling in and browsing the internet.

Then it’s that dreaded trip to the supermarket. We’ve decided we’re mainly eating out but still need some home basics and for the occasional meals in. Set off to the nearest hypermarket. This is the supermarket from hell. Needs a Euro to get a trolley, we don’t have any coins with us but kindly customer services lady lends us one. Narrow aisle and with what has to be the weirdest layout of all supermarkets takes ages to find things. Full of old dears blocking the aisle with their trolleys. OMG it’s so slow. Keep losing Wendy and spend half the time searching for her. Wendy was right, the smaller supermarket from last night was better. You lives and you learns, hopefully. It’s only saving grace is they sell Lowenbrau.

If men did the shopping then there’d be a World Wide Standard for supermarket layout. Perhaps something useful the EU could arrange, in place of all their useless bureaucracy, especially GDPR and other useless data protection.

It’s a tad ungodly driving over here, you’re in a foreign country so you expect to be on the wrong side of the road. Yet here in Cyprus, like the UK, they drive on the correct side of the road, and all their signs etc follow UK convention, including even the infamous beletia beacon zebra crossing. Not only that but they also have the worlds most sensible electric plug. Yes, you guessed it, the UK plug. None of your wobbly, sparking and floppy designs that can zap your fingers.

Back home and then off for a stroll along the lovely path at the bottom of our garden. The gardens along the path are lovely and pristine, as are the gardens of all the superb homes. Well as for the beach and sea at the bottom of our garden I was right, but there’s just one tiny snag in the form of a 50-foot cliff down onto a rock-strewn beach. Still not a problem as we hardly ever go on a beach.

Our home for the fortnight is lovely and comfortable, well equipped, with lovely gardens, patios, pool and outdoor seating. Just right for two people or even 4 at a pinch.

Temperature is about 23 of them Evil Union degrees and mainly sun and cloud. Just right. Don’t think we’d survive here in the summer. Lots of lovely homes and gardens but the majority are empty. For us, this is the ideal time of year.

Big debate whether to eat out tonight. Decide on Wayu cheese burgers at home. Try the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, very lush and fruity. But, it still doesn’t agree with me. There’s half a bottle left that is used to clean the drains.

 

 

 

Another lazy start to a warm, sun and cloud day. Breakfast on the patio again. I could really get used to this lifestyle. Perhaps we should start to think about wintering here.

After Wendy’s usual lunch we drive down to the few beaches around Coral Bay and take a pleasant stroll around each. Sadly no topless beaches here to entertain me.

Despite the weather forecast of sun and cloud it turns out to be a lovely sunny day, just right, not too hot.

It’s a trip to the Japanese restaurant for tonight’s tea. Greeted by a grunting female with all personality, charm and enthusiasm of a tortoise with a toothache. I think she’s had a lobotomy to have her personality removed. Sushi starters, including Octopus, followed by a Tepanaki seafood extravanganza, with all the usual theatricals associated with Tenpanaki. At least this guy has a personality.

 

It’s forecast thunder, lightning and rain for most of the day. All stops around dinner time and it’s a glorious sunny afternoon.

After a leisurely morning hunkered down watching the rain. We take a stroll up to “The Strip” to explore all the restaurants available. It’s your typical Brit abroad place, plenty of bars with English booze, English football, pub food – why do these people bother to come abroad, they could stay at home a lot cheaper. Fortunately, amidst these Brit bars, there are many tempting Greek restaurants.

Then it’s off to the local supermarket for a top-up of basic supplies, water and beer. As usual Wendy’s quite right this supermarket is so much better than the giant hell hole we went to the other day. Amazing how much English food they have, even Bury black puddings, and awesome they not only have Hofbrau Original but also Paulaner.

Back home for afternoon tea and for Wendy scones, while sat in our sunny alcove.

 

 

 

Lazy start as usual.

After Wendy’s usual lunch, today’s little excursion was to the Dead Centre of Paphos, the Tomb of Kings. Yet another World Heritage site.

So there you are some third century BC clay tablet billionaire, politician, or political lickspittle and you sign up for the co-op‘s premium platinum burial plan in the hope for a superb final resting place and burial plot, along with a few amphorae of wine for the journey to the afterlife. Alas, your plans for all eternity are snookered as along comes some geezers from UNESCO to relocate your body and turn your expensive burial plot into a tourist attraction. Just another one of life‘s or death’s little tribulations. If that was me I’d want my money back.

Wow, Wendy spots a Lidl. She just can’t resist and funnily enough, now she’s decided she’s not so keen on going out for dinner every night, rather eat in. Anyone spot the reasoning?

Tea in and an alcohol free day. End of another sunny day.

 

 

Start of another glorious sunny day.

After lunch, it’s a stroll along the rocky beach and then around the neighbourhood. We really have picked an ideal spot, great sea views, lovely garden, upmarket, quiet and peaceful neighbourhood yet just 5 minutes stroll to the strip for restaurants and shops. A good supermarket, full of English goodies, is only 10 minutes stroll away.

Looks like we’re dining in tonight, now Wendy’s discovered a Lidl. Have to say having a home rental is a real home from home, so much preferable to hotel, cruise or even caravan, although Wendy would disagree with the latter.

 

 

 

 

Lazy morning again.

Glorious sunshine so we drive up to Pegeia, a place we stayed back in 2008. We were planing on a walk around but there’s not really much there and Coral Bay is so much better. Drive down to the sea caves, yes we’ve been there before but can’t really remember much, but we have photos. Have a pleasant stroll around, all very picturesque. Time for more photos.

Then it’s a supermarket top-up visit, followed by back home for afternoon tea around the pool. Wow, we lead an exciting life.

Tea in tonoght and more exciting TV. Finish off the bottle of merlot from last night. Think I’ll give up buying or drinking wine in Cyprus, a bottle of vinegar is much cheaper.

 

 

 

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We get a late checkout so it’s a leisurely morning packing etc.

Drive down to our next abode, Marseillan a small town in Herault between Montpeiller and Perpignan, for a week. It’s less than two hours drive. Call off at a Super U to pick up some Coteaux de Aix en Provence. A gorgeous sunny day and we’re arrive by 15:00. Fortunately, no problem getting in early.

New VRBO is lovely, looks very comfortable.

Settle down to an afternoon tea on the patio. Then it’s off to the obligatory supermarket. Not just any supermarket but a Hypermarket, you could get lost in here for days, like Costco but more choice.

Back home for Baked beans and sausage for tea. Easily pleased, just give me baked beans. Soon get set up and enjoy an alcohol-free night, no escaping TV with a snooze.

Langudoc region is not on my favourite list for wine. Can only think of two appellations I want to try, Carbards and Pic St Loup. Both are reckoned to be fruity. We’ll see.
 

Wow that beds comfortable.

We have our usual lazy first day. Which roughly translates into the same as any other day but no driving.

After lunch set off for a stroll into town and to the harbour. I think the whole of France must be here, troughing away, not a sandwich in sight. Settle down into a sumptuous settee on the harbourside for some drinks. A beer for me – forgive for I have sinned – and a pina colada for Wendy. Sadly the beer is served in a girly flower vase, a sure way to catch a cold, it’s that girly and ornate I’ll even probably catch pneumonia. Gorgeous sat in the brilliant sunshine people watching. Time for a second round – encore un verre – even Wendy has another pina colada. At this rate, she may need carrying home, most unusual.

Back home for afternoon tea on the patio and sit out in the sun loungers. After 20 minutes I’ve had enough of sun lounging.
 

Another glorious sunny day. I take a stroll down to the local supermarket for my bread, it’s the holy trinity of the table tonight.

After a lazy morning and lunch, we decide on a drive down to Marseillan Plage. Well, what a disappointment that was. Nothing is really there as everything is closed up. Marseillan is so much nicer with its lovely port, bars and restaurants. We have a stroll around to get in our daily exercise and then decide to head back home. Pass on the idea of a drive to Sete, we’ll save that for another day. This is really going to be a laid back week with minimal driving.

Wendy finally sees the benefits of two weeks in Cyprus in December to break up our 2.5 months in the frozen wastelands of Belthorn. I’d offered an all-inclusive option so that Wendy could have a real break, but we both agree it is so much better in a VRBO where you have a nice house and grounds at your disposal, rather than crammed in a bedroom. We’ll go for the VRBO option and dine out every night. We spend the evening selecting a VRBO and find plenty to choose from. Select a 3 bedroom, with pool, more balconies than we’d know what to do with and sea views.
 

Lazy start to a brilliant sunny day.

Book our flights and car hire to Cyprus, it’s Jet2 and Hertz. Jet2 takes at least 30 minutes to wade through the complexities of their website, and many extras. The good news is you don’t have to pay to use the toilet – yet. Yeah, we’re all booked. Hang on a second Wendy wants lounge access at Manchester and Dragon Cards are no guarantee. Wendy gets lounge access. She’s still a bit perplexed why we can’t go Premium or Business class with Jet2, settle for emergency exit row seats. Knowing Jet2 they’ll probably charge us if we ever have to throw the door out in an emergency.

Have a drive down to Cap de Agde. Gorgeous beach and finally find a beach cafe for coffee. For once it seems we’ve found somewhere we’ve not been before. Strange because my memory of Cap de Agde was of dirty grey sand.

Then drive to the port at Agde, and yes we’ve been here before. More free parking. Have a pleasant stroll around the port, it’s quite busy and then roof down in the Thingimajigger and we’re off home for afternoon tea on the patio. Hang on a second we just have to nip into a supermarket – Wendy gets her daily fix.
 

Another lazy day planned. Give coffee and sandwich a miss.

We decide we’re going for the full monty, Plat de Jour, French lunch, so we spend hours deliberating online which restaurant, which menu. Finally agree. Check online, yes it’s open. Of course, when we get there it’s closed. It’s France. Spend another 20 minutes trying to choose an alternative restaurant from the 6 on offer around the harbour.
There was a queue 20 deep to get into one restaurant and waiters were buzzing around but not one could be bothered to show people to their tables. Why do the French put up with such sloppy, rude and lazy service? How do German visitors cope. The French have no consideration for the stress on their mental health?

Finally, settle on a restaurant. Rather than starve to death waiting for an invite we just plonk ourselves down. The waitress walks by the table at least 3 times when she could have just said hello, or even bonjour, and dropped a menu off. Oh no much too efficient.

Laidback! It takes 20 minutes just to place an order. The whole lunch takes 2 hours 3 minutes, oh my god I’ll be three minutes late for work.

I suppose if you get 2 hours for lunch you have to occupy it with something. So it’s either food, preferably slow to fill the two hours or sex, but then again I suppose sex is going to be over that quick that you’ll still have plenty of time for a slow lunch.

I’m bold, I’ll try anything once so try a plate of sea snails (I wondered why fish restaurants had escargot on the menu) to start, 3 oysters and then some Marlin with a glass of Pomerol – I’ve been conned, not very good, but turns out there’s a wine region down here called Pomerol, nowhere near as good as the Bordeaux version. Sea snails were hard work to winkle out and pretty tasteless, the oysters were done in a cheese sauce which was very tasty, probably a good job as I’m sure the Oysters had no taste, the Marlin was delicious. Will I wake up dead tomorrow? I think plenty of alcohol tonight might help me survive.

I think we’ll pass on the Plat de Jour experience in future, it’s just too stressful watching the slothful and sloppy service.

Back home for an Armagnac to finish off the meal and a refreshing cup of afternoon tea.
 

It’s forecast rain and clouds for today.

I know let’s drive up and have a look around Pezenas, I’m sure we’ve never been there, and the guidebook says it’s quaint. Well, you really shouldn’t rely on any guidebook that describes Beziers and Tarascon in favourable terms. Fortunately, the forecast is wrong, there’s glorious sunshine so it’s onto plan B. Drive down to Sete. Yes, we’ve been here before. Have a stroll around the many quaysides and settle for a coffee. Then Wendy gets her treat to wander around the shops, by now they’re open.

Drive back along the thin strand of the coast, top-down in glorious sunshine to the Hyper U at Agde. Sadly we need tonight and tomorrow night’s tea. Hardly anyone on checkout and plenty of long queues. Checkout girls are slower than a herd of turtles stampedin’ through peanut butter. Why do the French put up with this, yet another example of shoddy service.

Even Wendy loses her patience, so you can imagine how calm I am. She definitely couldn’t cope with living in France.

Thankfully that’ll be our last French supermarket for a few years.
 

Forecast for today is not good. Best, by the BBC is cloud and sun with 20% chance of rain, worst, by Watson (IBM AI) of the weather channel, is +50% chance of rain and no sun. The BBC are always best for an optimistic view and weather channel are always very pessimistic. I think overall the BBC is the most accurate.

So it’s a lazy day. Have a stroll down to the harbour, no rain but very windy.

Mostly spend the day sorting out our mess with Kindle and Amazon. Boy is it complicated? We have four Amazon accounts linked to devices dating back to 2013. Amazon are no help with their online chat, manned by staff who speak English but as it’s not their native tongue they don’t really comprehend it – time they watched more British TV. Finally, figure it out and sort out our two Kindle online readers.

Tea tonight is fish again. This time not so risque. I’m having a Tuna steak and some Marlin, Wendy’s going for the safe Salmon option – she’d never get in the Girl Guides.

Well as for wine of the region I couldn’t find any Carbards but did manage to find 3 different Pic St Loup. Two of them were just about drinkable, but never to be tried again. As for the third well, I managed to force down the first glass, the rest was used as drain cleaner – started off mellow but with an awful, indescribable, after taste. Yes, another bottle of French wine poured down the drain – get me home to the Carmeneras, Zinfandels and Pinot Noir.
 

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Luxury of a late departure – 12:00 – so lazy start and pack up. Good job really as it’s just over two hours to our next stay in Provence.

Easy drive, autoroute all the way, so much more relaxing than British Motorways. Roadworks, what are they?

Stop off for Wendy’s lunch.

Arrive about 15:00 and were met by our landlady who shows us around. Despite her limited English and my poor French, we get by.

Settle in with a cup of tea on the patio, it’s a gorgeous sunny day. The home and garden are lovely, all situated in a quiet small village, a welcome change from Cannes. Pool’s covered over for the winter, not a problem for me. Lovely patio area for coffee and meals, 3 electric bikes. Then it’s off to the supermarket. We’ve a choice of SuperU or Mosquitos (Intermarche). It’s a long while since we enjoyed the smell of Eau de Sewage from a SuperU, lets keep it that way, so Mosquitos it is. We’ve planned meals well up to Tuesday and trying to wean Wendy off too many supermarket visits.

The store’s massive and there seems little logic in layout, really is time for a worldwide standard on supermarket layout, would save so much time. Checkout seems to think we’re thieves, not CUSTOMERS, as they want to check the insides of our shopping bags. If it hadn’t taken us over an hour I’d have been for walking out and leaving the shopping in the trolley. Disgusting customer service, can you imagine that in England? Can only assume that there are a lot of thieves in France.

There are two checkout exits, so we choose the one nearest to us. Can you believe it, but that exit leads into a different car park, and the only way back to our car park is by a security guarded escort (in case we nick anything) back through the store – only in France.

Back home to get wifi, Apple TV and charging stations set up. Now we’re good to go with bread, wine and cheese for tea.

The wine seems to have it’s usual effect as I nod off with a glass in hand. What a waste, half a glass of wine, oh and broken glass – time to get my travel plastic wine glass out.

 

 
Lazy start to the day. We’ve decided to have a do-nothing day other than a stroll around Maillane. It’s a gorgeous sunny day again.

Come across a cafe on our stroll so stop off for a beer sat out in the sun. A bizarre cafe with a very limited choice of beer.

Back home for afternoon tea around the pool. Then it’s time for a beer and finish off the last of that coteaux d’aix en Provence. Sadly could only find one bottle in the supermarket.

Then it’s time to do battle with the oven. No where, including the manual and the Internet, can we find what those absurb symbols mean.

Wow, another gorgeous sunny day.

Roof down in the Thingimajigger and we’re off on an adventure.

Drive down quiet, if somewhat dilapidated, country roads to L’isle sur la sorgue. We’ve been there before but it’s such a pleasant little town. Charming to walk around, but alas no chance of a sandwich, the French are out in force troughing, only 3 course French lunches available, so we have to settle for a coffee and tea. Whatever happened to sandwiches or even Croque Monsuer?

Bump into a Super U. Wow, after 20 years working and holidaying in France we finally get to visit a Super U supermarket that doesn’t stink of raw sewage. No longer need a gas mask. They must have gotten rid of their Eau de Sewage floor cleaner.

Then it’s off to Fontaine de Vaucluse, again we’ve been before, but still another lovely town to walk around. Wendy settles on an ice cream for lunch, coffee for me. Walk up to the source of the river but cannot see anything gushing out, must be underground.
 

Try out the electric bike as I nip round to the bakers for some Croisants and a Cereal Baguette. I’s a bit like driving a tank, very heavy and the electric assist takes a bit of getting used to.

Off to Arles today. Let’s go and see the arena. Don’t think we’ve been there before, but who knows with our aging memory.

Sadly what a dump Arles is. On a par with Beziers and Blackburn. Hard to judge which is the worst.

Splash out and go into the amphitheater, certainly very impressive, as was the theatre, both World Heritage sites but sadly lacking in imagination and presentation. No displays, videos or interaction. Such a pity as with gladiators and all the rest it could have been awesome, especially for the many school trips visiting. Mind you, when I look back to my school trip to see the Mersey tunnel this place certainly trumps that. They obviously use the arena for some big events, including that barbaric and uncivilised bull torturing, which they call a bull fight.

Wendy has the best Latte so far this trip.

Drive to a Super U supermarket to see if the Sewage smell is truly a thing of the past, and yes it is. It’s a massive, clean, spacious store with no bad smell. Do the rest of the weekly shop. Find 4 different bottles of red Coteaux de Aix en Provence so have to try each one. And they even sell Baked Beans, certainly gone up in my estimation. Buy a big piece of Monkfish, which fortunately she skins for us, but looks like we’ll have to fillet it.

Drive back across the Alpilles nature park. Very impressive.

Luxury tea tonight, Pilchard sandwiches – thanks to Peter and Brenda on our campsite – a very rare delicacy here in France, almost as rare as Baked Beans. All washed down with a strong, unfiltered Jenlain blond beer, all 750 Ml of it. By 19:30 I’m comatose.
 

Out for 10:30. For some bizarre reason I’ve suggested we go to the market at St Remy de Provence, knowing full well that we’ll never buy anything. Wendy’s ultimate shopping trip, looking at it all yet not buying.

Some amazing dried sausage but we pass on the Donkey sausage. But those cheeses are making me drool. Then we discover a cheese shop, peering in through the window, like a child outside a toy shop. Resist going in as I know it would turn out expensive.

Wow, it’s quite a big market in a lovely little town. Can you believe for the first time ever we buy something? Some sugared almonds and while we’re on a roll some fennel. Loads of free samples, but as a pair of wimps we pass.

Then after a relaxing coffee, watching the motorists try to go over a zebra crossing. Pedestrians just have no consideration as a constant dribble across. Cars will be running out of petrol at this rate.

Then we’re off to Les Baux de Provence, a small hilltop fortress town in the middle of the Alpilles nature park. The rock formations are amazing and the small town is lovely, even if a tourist trap. I can’t imagine the hilltop castle was ever captured, what a fortress. As for anyone who says the French don’t wash they’ve obviously never been here, with more soap shops than stones at an islamic stoning.

We spend most of our time arguing as to whether we’ve ever been here before. There are glimpses that make us think we have, but neither of us can believe we would ever forget such awesome rock formations and quaint town. Then over coffee, we discover the pictures from September 2009 that prove we have. Thankfully we discover them on the way out. I think it would have really spoilt the experience if we’d realised when we arrived.

Then it’s back home for afternoon tea.

Wendy has to skin some more of the skin off and fillet the Monkfish we bought, guided by Youtube and sadly using a knife blunter than a child’s wooden toy sword. Then it’s Monkfish (never realised how ugly and messy the Monkfish is, – enough to put you off it for life) and an awesome red Coteaux de Aix en Provence for tea – I think a few of these may find their way into my car boot.

The Monkfish was great, so much bigger than the pieces you typically get in England.

End to another awesome day, cloudy with no sun but it was not cold. Despite the cloud we both feel sunburnt on our faces.

I know let’s go and explore Tarascon and see if we can spot the Tarasque. Free parking well that’s a good start. Stroll down to the river and look at the pock-marked castle. Across to the church and head into what we think is the old quarter. Turns out to be a muslim ghetto, a bit like Audley Range, Blackburn, AKA The Kyber Pass. We get lost thanks to me relying on my innate sense of direction, which this time let me down. I’m sure it was constantly looking down to avoid the dog turds that got us lost. This place has to be the dog shit capital of France and that’s saying something.

Where’s the car. What’s more, will it still be there, complete with 4 wheels? Thank the FSM for Apple Maps and car locate. But watch where you’re stepping.

Drive over the river into Beaucaire, only marginally better, at least it has a pretty river with some boats on.

Oh well, we all make mistakes.

Decide to get out of there and head over to the Carrières de Lumières at Les Baux de Provence. That’s if we can ever find our way out of this dump. With sat nav it was a nightmare, without sat nav you’d be condemned to driving around for all eternity.

“The old stone quarries of the Val d’Enfer are today the theatre for a magical show that changes its theme every year and which gave the site its name: “Carrières de Lumières” or “Quarries of Lights”. The masterpieces by great artists are projected onto the floor and 14-metre high walls of this stone cathedral.” Todays show was Cezanne and Kadinsky.

“Spectators standing in the decor itself will be blown away by the musical and artistic staging of this whirl of giant images.” It was expensive for us poor pensioners but worth it. Amazing and the music just complimented it all. What was even more amazing was how my iPhone brought it so much more to light than my eyes.

Then it’s back home, roof down driving through the Alpilles in glorious sunshine. A well-deserved cup of tea on our patio. Oh we Brits sure know how to live – civilised.

Tonight’s tea consists of Baked Beans with pork chops and tartiflette. First baked Beans for over a month. Sadly they were a tad undercooked, probably only 10 minutes, rather than the preferred 20 minutes – to kill all parasites, bacteria and viri – with the all-important knob of butter. If I’m ill tomorrow you’ll know it’s down to eating raw vegetables – yet another attempt on my life failed.
 

Our last full day so we’re heading off to Avignon. It seems they have a famous half bridge to nowhere. Only the French could keep such a navigation hazard.

Driving around Avignon is the usual chaos but we eventually find a handy car park at the Pope’s Palace. Another one of those cavernous underground car parks with red and green lights over each parking slot so you can easily see available spaces – neat. What’s not so neat is how tight the spaces are.

Now here’s a town that’s serious about Covid they even warn the cars about social distancing with “Mesure Covid” printed every 100 yards on the roads.

Wendy has lunch and I have coffee while we sit in the sunshine people watching. Then it’s off on a shopping spree. Wendy wants some gifty shops to look at. Not that she’ll but anything.

We give the Pope’s Palace a miss, already done the tour on a previous visit. Yes, another place we’ve been to before, but at least this time we remember it. Well worth the second visit.

The objective for the day is to walk on that famous bridge. It seems like it’s one of the best-kept secrets in Avignon, not a sign to be had telling you how to get to it. Walk up to the garden Rocher Des Doms thinking we’ll be able to get to it from there. Some great views of it but alas can’t walk to it. Finally, find our way to it. An impressive structure and yet another World Heritage site. Objective achieved we finally also find some gifty shops for Wendy to browse. Does she buy anything? Does she heck.

Leisurely drive back home for afternoon tea on the patio followed by The Holy Trinity of the table, wine, cheeses and bread. When we get home we really need to have this once a week.
 

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Out by 09:30 and off on the road to Cannes. Really screwed up on the distance. As the crow flies Annecy to Cannes is about 168 miles, so thought that’s not a bad stretch. Turns out that the quickest route is about 320 miles – 5 hours – fortunately all by autoroute, expensive but so much less stressful than UK motorways. The only downside is French drivers seem to want to see what’s inside my exhaust pipe, or perhaps they’re mesmerised and drawn to my new UK sticker, complete with Union flag. Have they never heard of safe stopping distance? A complete lack of common sense, dangerous.

Stop off in Provence for Wendy’s lunch. Glorious sunshine, bright blue sky and warmth. Get to Cannes about 16:00.

Our home exchange hosts are there to meet us and show us around the apartment – see pictures. All very comfortable and quality furnished with an amazing balcony and view of Cannes Bay. They’ve left us some essentials like roles, jam, toilet roll and not forgetting wine.

Have to dash out to the supermarket. A shithole of an Intermarche with a disgusting underground garage, the black mold is taking over the staircase, like some sort of horror movie.

Back to the apartment and soon set up Apple TV, with red wine, brad and cheese for tea. Sleep through yet another episode of Sex Education
 
 
 

Really lazy day. Unfortunately we have to find a supermarket to do the weeks shop – looks like it’s another Casino, one of the few supermarkets with some parking. Roads around our apartment have obviously been laid out following the trail of a druken snail, not a straight stretch anywhere.

Then spend the rest of the day just enjoying the apartment and the views, along with a little beer and wine. Weathers a mixture of sun and cloud but at least it’s warm.
 

Yeah, glorious sunshine and temperatures around 20 of those damn EU units.

Do battle with the shower, or should I say lack of it. There’s just a shower hose in the bath not even on the wall. How can people live without a proper shower? Another querk of this lovely well-appointed apartment is the lack of cups, just one with a handle and two without – much too hot for folk like me who don’t have asbestos hands.

A beautiful sunny blue sky day, time to sit outside and enjoy the peace and quiet, the view and relax …..they only decide to do roadworks outside the apartment. Never mind they’ll pack up by 12:00 for the day.

After our usual lazy start we set off down to the port in the old town. Plenty of expensive outdoor parking. Wow, we get to see the 5th British car this whole trip. The French economy must be really suffering and if that Macron geeezer doesn’t improve his demeanour and attitude to the Brits then hopefully we’ll stay away in droves – mind you they’ll have got shut of him by next year.

Great this lazy start to the day, by the time we hit the shops they’re all closed for a two hour lunch. A bizzare idea, what do they find to do in the two hours – answers on a postcard.

Have a walk along the front and as usual, there’s a big expo on in the conference centre promoting and selling French TV series. Of course the tourist info centre is closed for lunch.

Have a walk around the old town and then along the beach. Gorgeous weather and all very pleasant.

Coffee at a beach cafe, no rush just watching the world and the fully clothed go by. Wot no topless beaches and supermarkets with no baked beans. Like the UK this country is going to the dogs too.

Finally, get to see 20 stone of topless adipose tissue, those nipples are scraping her knees. Enough to put anyone off sex or women for life, should be used in aversion therapy. No need to apply electric shocks just the sight alone would do the job. I was going to post a picture of something similar but feared for my reader’s sanity.

Back home for a leisurely beer and wine.
 

Lazy start and then we take a leisurely drive, much to most drivers dismay, down the awesome corniche to St Raphael. Some stunning views over the sea but not many places to stop off and enjoy them.

Free parking in St R. Wendy lashes out and has a fish burger at MacD’s. Their coffee is great. So we sit by the sea like two old dears. Alas no really pleasant sights on the beach. Not really much to see in the town.

Then we get back and it’s yet another supermarket. God only knows how Wendy manages to need a daily shop. That’s it now no more supermarkets in Cannes.

Yeah, sat on the balcony with bread, cheese and wine – the Holy Trinity of the table – for tea tonight. Much to Wendy’s annoyance, I could live on this. So what do these items have in common? Never thought of it that way before but they all rely upon yeast.
 

Lazy start to a gorgeous sunny day then off down to the other end of Cannes for a very English, complete with panama hat, stroll along the prom. Seems like the French also like their stroll along the prom too.

Beach cafes at this end of Cannes are vey expensive so being cash strapped pensioners we stroll down to other beaches to our previous days watering spot. One cafe allonge lasts a whole hour of people watching on the beach. Wendy tries a Latte and survives it, hope she’s not going to start polluting my coffee machine with all that milk. What’s happened to the french, the women seem to have become a nation of prudes, no eye-candy sights to keep me entertained.

Of course there’s yet another film / TV series festival on, which probably explains the high police presence, baacked up by army patrols armed to the teeth with enough firepower to initiate WW3. Mind you with the number of members of the religion of pieces and permanent offense in this country it’s not surprising.

Well a really good walk today, all of 4.7 miles.

It’s Kurt’s birthday and as usual we’re away for it. Give him a ring to wish him happy birthday and say hello to the kids. Of course its the witching hour before they go to bed, they’re feral. After 5 minutes we’re ready to turn to drink to cope with the nosie and excitement. Within that short chat one of them is banished to the naughty step – I’ll leave it to your imagination as to what her name was. How do Kurt and Fiona cope with them, they both look stressed and in dire need of alcohol. But we still miss the kids.

Really can’t understand this awesome appartment. Just one bathroom with no shower other than a hand held shower in the bath. In this day and age how do people cope without a proper shower? Even more bizarre is only one bathroom in a two bedroom apparment and you have to walk through the master bedroom to get to it. You imagine, there you are on one of your finest rumpo moments and in strolls a child or someone from the other bedroom needing a pee – “Oh don’t mind me!”.

When I look at the layout it almost seems like there’s some lost space. Why didn’t they put a door from the hall into the bathroom. Tapping walls looking for priest holes or hidden compartments. But alas nothing. Oh well, they’re french and in a country with Priorite Adroite and no baked beans anything goes.
 

A sun and cloud day but nice and warm. Let’s go to Nice and ambulate down the Promenade Des Anglais, it’s a long while since we were there.

It’s only 25 minute drive and I’d already keyed in a car park to make life easy. Find the car park, supposedly with 380 places, this one only had about 30. Oh well it’ll do. And then I see the price.

Wendy buys a sandwich and we sit on the promenade while she eats it and fends off pigeins and aggresive seagulls. The colour of the sea is amazing. If nothing else it was worth it just for that. Have a walk down to the far end of the promonade and back. The beach is all pebbles not a bit like the ones at Cannes. All in all quite disappointing and note to oneself, don’t bother coming again, Cannes is so much nicer.

Stop off for a coffee on the beach. So all in all it’s costs us e23.90 (parking 7, tolls 7, coffee and water 9.90).

Drive home for afternood tea on the balcony, followed by a beer, some wine, Chicken Faijatas and a good snooze through some mediocre TV. Lovely eating tea out on the balcony in glorious technicolour sunshie and that amazing view.

 
 
 

 

A midnight revelation. I get up in the middle of the night to turn the heating down and notice a light shining from the wardrobe in the 2nd bedroom. Go to open the doors and turn it off and revealed in all it’s glory is an en-suite bathroom in the 2nd bedroom. Not just any old en-suite but one with a PROPER SHOWER. For 5 days now we’ve just thought the doors to this haven to cleanliness was a wardrobe. The doors looked like a wardrobe and our hosts never showed us this feature. That explains the lost space. Proper showers from now on.

Our last full day in Cannes so after a lazy start and Wendy’s lunch we head off down to the old Port.

Have a saunter around the old town. Wendy sees a dress we both like, that’s rare, but sadly the shop is closed for lunch. We call in on the way back. “One size fits all.” says the shop assistant “put a belt around”. Never mind that it still hangs off her shoulders like supermans cloak. Ridiculous. It’s a wonder she didn’t tell us it would shrink to a perfect fit with wear.

Stroll down onto the beach for a coffee and a last relax by the sea.
 

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Oh the joys of packing up your caravan in the pouring rain. Anyone want to buy a caravan? I really do start to wonder why we’re still doing this caravanning lark. Must be mad. When you think about it, with the awning, we spend a day setting up and a day packing up. Only really viable for a 3 or more week stay. Reminds me yet again that I don’t want to be towing.

Drive down to Versailles is pretty uneventful The French roads and toll roads a a pleasure to drive on.

Arrive at our Novotel in Versailles after a three hour drive.

Hotel’s very smart. Have a stroll down the town, trying to avoid the rain.

Evening meal in the hotel is good but very limited menu.
 

 

After a good breakfast we’re off in the rain to the Palace of Versailles. Fortunately only a 20 minute walk from the hotel.

Well, it seems that somehow the French Secret Service – DGSI: Direction générale de la sécurité intérieure – have somehow been spying on me at breakfast and detected my desecration of a croissant. Yes, I confess I put jam on them. When I present my French pass sanitaire to get in the palace of Versailles it is rejected – am I now on a watch list? Funny how it’s accepted everywhere else and Wendy’s is accepted. My English one works – don’t mess with the British.

Then I try to go through the scanner. No luck. Take everything off, still no luck. Next, it’ll be the sound of a rubber glove and down to underwear. It must be the DGSI or again my titanium implant in my femur – strange how my bionic leg has never caused a problem before. In typical French fashion, they give up and decide it’s best to let me through.

I wonder whether it was my leather cowboy hat that made them think I’m a American so let’s give him a hard time.

It’s very impressive, the palace that is. It’s massive, they reckon you need a whole day to see the inside properly. Us philistines are not that cultured and really just like to get an overview and sense of the place without examining everything. A guided tour would be the death of us. There are that many paintings there’s just no need for wallpaper. So it’s a whistle-stop tour. They really need a fast lane to avoid the dawdlers. We must set a new world record in just 70 minutes, mind you the Gallery of great battles is closed – I bet there’s nothing in there for Agincourt, WW1 or WW2!

Still pouring with rain so we give the awesome looking gardens a miss. Most of my pictures have been acquired from the Internet rather than photos with bald heads and selfie sticks intruding.

Expensive but glad we’ve seen it. Wendy – xenophobe – much preferred Windsor Castle but nowhere near as big.

Set off down to Beaune, wine capital, for our next stop. Once we escape the hell of Paris suburbs were on our way down South. Toll roads most of the way but no hold-ups and light traffic. Why if it wasn’t for the rain it could even be enjoyable.

Arrive at our Ibis hotel in Beaune. Well we all make mistakes. Our rooms been designed by someone from Lilliput. The door won’t even open fully because it bangs into the bed. As for the shower, only thin people wash. No blobbies would ever get in the rooms.

Another bit of bad news is they don’t do evening meals so we have to venture out into yet more rain to find a restaurant. Wot, you want to eat on a Sunday evening, it’s our day of rest, one of many. Finally, find a restaurant open. Limited menu until 18:00 so it’s French onion soup followed by Beef Bourgeoning. Good French fare.

Back to the rabbit hutch in the rain and finish off my bottle of wine to help me cope with the claustraphobia.
 

Breakfast is very mediocre and small portions, no doubt to save money. Mind you if you had a big hearty breakfast you’d risk not being able to slither into the room.

We see a real blobby arrive, who as we guessed is one of the cleaners. I’d be amazed, being that fat, that she could even get into the rooms.

You lives and you learns and today’s lesson is avoid Ibis hotels – we’ve stayed in some tolerable ones in the past, especially Ibis Styles.

Have a stroll around Beaune and a coffee before setting off for our VRBO in Lake Annecy. We pass on visiting the Hospital with the awesome roof again.

It’s motorway for all but the last three miles. The drive through the mountains is impressive, would be more so if it wasn’t rain and cloud.

As we get into Annecy we see a mega Carrefour supermarket. As we’re early we go in to do our shop and save us coming out again. Sadly it’s just too big with prize winning slow checkout girls.

Get to the road where the car park for our apartment is. Drive up and down it three times looking for the car park. What we don’t realise is that there’s another half of the road across the major road and of course we’re on the wrong side of the major road. Finally, find it and negotiate all the secret codes, locks and doors, to arrive at our very pleasant apartment, it’s lovely and well kitted out.

Soon get set up after wearing out a keyboard inputting a 20 character, yes 20 characters mixed numbers and letters, enough to protect the nuclear missile launch code. The world has gone mad.

Finally all working, Apple TV up and running for Netflix etc. Home from home.
 

Weather dictates our day. Sun and cloud in the morning followed by yet more rain in the afternoon, so we’re off out early. Well 10:00 is very early for us.

Have a stroll down to the lake with plans of a relaxing coffee by the lake. “There’ll be loads of cafes overlooking the lake” I say. Alas wrong again, not a one.

But, there’s a trade union gearing up for a protest no doubt. Must be France. Wot no yellow jackets.

It’s very pleasant though walking by the lake and eventually we find a cafe by a river in the old town.

Then stroll back with Wendy carping on about how far it is. But then she spies a Casino supermarket to brighten her day. Can you believe that to get out of the store you have to scan the barcode on your receipt? Technology gone mad. What happens if you don’t buy anything?

First impressions of Annecy are good.

Afternoon lazing around, it’s what we do best.
 

Yet again plan our day around the weather forecast.

Off for a drive around Lake Annecy. I’d expected it to be a goodly distance but it turns out to be only 25 miles. Not really that much to see other than views of the lake, including a spectacular one from a mountain top – see photos. But overall a pleasant drive.

Halfway round and the heavens open up yet again. Good to know that the French weather forecasts are as random as ours.

Back in time for afternoon tea.

Tackle a Beaune wine, it’s ok but not one I’d queue up to buy.
 

 

Very lazy start to the day. Catch up on blog and try and reconcile my Siesta Key booking. The joys of an amateur travel agent.

After Wendy’s lunch, we take a stroll into the town. Learn that restaurants and brasseries insist on you having food. If you want just a coffee or even a just a beer then you must go to a cafe or bar.

Have a coffee by the river and then explore the city centre, well at least what we think is the city centre. We’re saving exploration of the old town until tomorrow, market day.

Back home for afternoon tea.

Extra hot Stag chilli, supplemented with plenty of mince meat, for my tea. Quality food.
 

Up and ready early to go to the market in the old town Wendy’s orgasmic. Have to be there before 12:00 or else they’ll have all packed up early and shot off home to gobble up their frogs legs and snails.

I don’t know why we ever bother going to a French market, we never buy anything. Although I have to admit they do have some awesome-looking cheese, bread and meats, plus a wide selection of fresh fruit and vegetables. Really quite entertaining and colourful.

Stop off for a beer but it’s quite cold so I settle for a coffee allonge.

Call in at a Subway for tonight’s tea. Their consistency all over the world is amazing, yes you can always guarantee they’ve run out of something. Today it’s tomatoes. Probably one of their most popular items. I suggest they pop around to the market and buy some before they close. That went down like a lead balloon and all of a sudden they no longer understood English.

Back home for lunch. It’s still grey and cool and not a glimpse of the forecast sun.

14:00 French time and the Apple watch can be ordered in the UK. Order an apple watch 7 in aluminium. Would have liked to get the stainless steel but instead of £399 they’re £699 because they come with lavish watch straps. I’ve still got my Milanese Loop, it’s smart and still in good fettle. Yes, I know I’m the nerd who would be dashing to buy a cardboard box if Apple sold one, but in fairness, my current watch is a series 4 and 4 years old.

Wendy gets packed ready for an early start and a 5 hour drive to Cannes. A major navigation screw up there, on the map as the crow flies it only looked about 200 miles. Turns out it was even less at 168 but there are mountains in the way so you have to travel about 320 miles.

Well it seems that Wendy’s been washing the pots with rinse aid. No wonder we need to scrape the detritus off the plates!
 

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Thunder, lightning and rain overnight so sure enough in keeping with French tradition WIFI does not work in the morning. Why? It’s like one of those immutable laws of nature. Have they not heard of waterproofing or lightning protection.

Lazy start, battling with non-existent Internet, then off to Cherbourg.

Buy some new handles from the local Bricolage (DIY) to replace the broken plastic ones. These are metals that should see us out. Typical though, we wanted 4 but they only had 3.

Free parking on the Cherbourg quayside, how neat is that.

Finally track down the SFR shop, would have been easier if Wendy had said Rue DES portes and not De or du.

With my awful French and the assistant’s basic English I finally get a SIM, which allegedly will support being a hotspot (that’s another story), then can you believe I have to go to a Tabac to buy a 5Gb pre-pay to load onto the SIM. That’s easy to do as you just send an SMS with the code on your receipt from the Tabac.

SIM works fine in Wendy’s phone just got to battle my way through hot spot set up. Web site is no use, now there’s a surprise. Looks like I’ll have to gird my loins for a call with SFR call centre. Quite proud so far of my French comprehension, still speak it like a Spanish cow.

Then it’s pleasant coffee sat around the square, listening to a live band playing. Bizarre that the cafe lets you bring your own sandwiches to eat.

Another gorgeous sunny day, despite the weather forecast.

Bread, cheese and wine for tea again.
 

Lazy day.

Then took a short drive out to Saint Saveur le Vicomte to explore the castle we’ve constantly said we’ll go and look at. Finally, explore it. Looks like there was a rebellion there way back when, now there’s a shock for France. A coffee or even a beer sat in the sun would have been nice but alas, it’s France, it’s Sunday, and of course everywhere is closed. I suppose they’re all wearing holes in the knees of their Sunday best trouser as they spend the day on their knees in prayer and religious devotion!

Another gorgeous day.

Back home for tea, beer and wine.
 

Woken by the sound of rain and wind. Dash out in the pouring rain to install the storm straps, that’s when I’ve found them. Of course if I’d installed them when we set up our “divorce proof, easy blow up awning”, I wouldn’t be out there in the wind and rain. Then to aggrevate me more as soon as they’re installed the rain stops and the wind dies down.

The last caravan leaves today so we’re the only caravan on the site. Have it all to ourselves, no noisy, nosey neighbours. Still some English in the statics and cabins at the top of the site.

Find some St George flag pendants so I put them up to remind the ducks that were English – remember Agincourt.

My UK stickers arrive for the car. Yes apparently from the 29/9/21 you have to have a UK sticker on your car. Some numbskull in government has decided that we are UK and not GB. He or she is a snowflake who wants to be inclusive and make a point that Northern Ireland is British – let no country be left behind.

A trip to mosquitos was the highlight of the day.

Spent most of the day identifying possibilities for Florida – we’ve 3 out of 4 stays sorted – and then most of the evening trying to select the best with a simple scoring system.

Despite the early morning rain it turns out yet another sunny day.
 

Leisurely morning as usual.

Teatime we head up to Brenda and Pete’s for drinks. Another opportunity to put the world to rights. Very enjoyable company.

Weather wise an OK’ish sort of day.
 

Leisurely start.

The forecast is pretty good so we have a drive up to Barfleur, allegedly one of the prettiest villages in France. There really is no accounting for taste. If that’s one of the prettiest then let’s avoid the rest. Have a stroll around but nowhere to stop for a sandwich for lunch. As usual, all the French are munching away on their full three-course meals. Given their obsession with food and wine it really is a mystery why this country is not infested with an excess of adipose tissue ambling around on two legs.

Drive down to Saint-Vaast-la-Houge, a busy fishing port, probably getting ready to blockade the ports and cause mayhem over Brexit fishing rules. They soon forget how the EU decimated our fishing industry. But it’s France, any excuse for a good strike, march, blockaid or civil unrest – long live the revolution.
 

Last forecasted sunny day of our stay so time to be brave and take down the awning. A couple of hours cursing and a half hour interruption as Bat and Ball stroll by and engage us in conversation. Did you know that aircraft carriers are leaking around their propeller shafts? How fascinating is that.

It’s finally down and rolled up and still fits in the bag.

Rest of the day lounging around.
 

Rain forecast for all day, so hunker down in the caravan. Thankfully, as usual, the forecast is wrong and by lunch time it’s stopped.

Brenda and Pete pop round for a farewell brew.
 

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To the Thingimajigger, off on an adventure, this time 6 weeks in France because that Biden geezer won’t let us back into the USA. Any more of it and we’ll cancel their independence.

Off down to Brett’s, a 4.5 hour journey that ends up taking 6 hours. Why Am I surprised. a 44 minute delay on the M6 near Stoke, now there’s a surprise. Emergency repairs to about 10 feet of barrier, not that any of the barrier intruded onto the carriageway. So let’s close off two lanes, cause mayhem while we look at it. I suppose it could easily be left as is with minimal risk or even fixed overnight with minimum hold ups. But no that would be way too sensible and not half as much fun watching the mayhem. Then for some bizarre reason our satnav has decided that going around the M25 is a good idea. That’s the problem when you trust software, you really have to remember most of this shit has been written by a 10 year old with zero common sense, no social skills and still needs his Mummy to tie his shoelaces.

Finally get to Brett and Karine’s for a very warm welcome and a superb barbecue of South African sausage, black puddings, pork ribs and mackerel. Plenty of meat, oh and a few veggies skewers, and my favourite corn on the cob. Am I turning into a veggie? Also not to forget a couple of Jever’s and a bottle of Carmenra. Sleep the sleep of the righteous that night.
 

Brett and I are off kayaking down the coast to Climping for a coffee. It’s a grey day and sure enough as we get to the beach it decides to rain. Not to deter intrepid kayakers, we go for it. It rains all the way there and when we stop for coffee the heavens open up for about 20 minutes. Finally slackens off so we set off back. Now Bretts been very good at looking after his Father and helping with the launch into the sea at high tide. It’s really quite flat out there but he manages to push me off into a freak tsunami wave. The damn waves 3 foot tall and my kayak dives into it only to be ripped to one side and eject me. Must be the first time I’ve ever fell out of a kayak – damn open top kayaks – but I live to tell the tale of how my son tried to kill me off.

It rains all the way back. But despite the rain and the attempt to drown me we had a great morning. Surviving an attempted drowning and freak tsunami made it all the more memorable.

After lunch Wendy, Brett and I drive down to Little Hampton for a pleasant stroll along the seafront. Needless to say it’s ceased raining by now. What a pleasant little seaside resort it is. Poor Karine having work on a bid so can’t join us.

Back for roast lamb for tea – well I suppose we’ll have to say for dinner as we’re “Down South”.

Then it’s off to Portsmouth for the overnight ferry to Cherbourg. Check in is just chaos because as well as passports you have to have your statement of honour that you don’t have covid symptoms and a printout of your covid proof of vaccination. Of course there are plenty of numpties in the queue, especially geriatrics, who have neither or have them hidden away safely in the far reaches of their boot. Common sense nil, chaos 10. Who are these lunes. Just proves that we really can’t rely on common sense to help contain covid. We’re doomed.

Finally get on board and it’s straight to our cabin as Noddy’s way past Big Ears so time for bed.
 

Arrive in Cherbourg on time at 08:00 as promised. We’re lucky to be one of the first 10 off and French immigration can’t be bothered to see our covid documents, they just want passports.-.hallelua But you can tell times are hard when they only have one date stamp between two of them. Quickly immigrated and 40 minutes later we’re on our camp site ready to set up the caravan.

Oh the joys of setting up our caravan! Takes about 40 minutes to get it fully operational, but then we have the awning.

Go shopping for wine, brandy, cheese, bread and a few other vitals while the grass dries. Drive down to Leclerc at Carantan.

Never mind we have a divorce proof blow up awning, it’ll be a doddle. 50 minutes and a lot of swearing later it’s blown up just needs me on me hands and knees to peg it out. Whose idea was it to take the windows out. Spent 30 minutes getting them back in.

Finally sit down in the sun for a beer followed by my first French wine in over a year. It’s a St Emillion, won a silver medal, and tastes like liquid soil. Wouldn’t even use it to clean drains with. For the first time ever I bin a full bottle of wine. Get me a Carmenera or Zinfandell. Move onto 2nd bottle, pretty good.

Tea is bread, cheeses and wine. Now I know we’re in France.

Nice sunny day.

Lazy start.

Have a stroll into town.

At last agree escape to Park city April, May, July, August and September with Isaac. Same rate a last year. A very obliging chap.

Book virgin flights to Florida for Mid January to endow February (premium ) and April and May (upper class – decide to splash out as it’s two flights).

Another sunny day, temperature just right.
 

Usual lazy start.

Drive into town for more vitals. What no Aldi. Wow a brand new one right next door to the Mosquitos (Intermarche).

Pete and Brenda come round for drinks at teatime. For me it’s beer, wine then an Armagnac. Pleasant evening in the sun putting the world to rights. We’re all agreed the countries gone to the dogs. We need someone to get grip of the snowflakes, wakes and libtards. Sort the illegal immigrants; sort the protestors, no problem with peaceful protest that doesn’t infringe others right; introduce covid vaccine passport to encourage the SS (Stupid and Selfish) to have the vaccination, bring back indoor masks and ban mass events, you don’t need to be a professor of virology to see that these are just sensible measures.

Rabbit stew for tea followed by a snooze while Wendy watches that tripe “Sex Education” – all that talk about sex but not even a glimpse of a naked body. What a swizz.
 

Lazy start then off for a drive down to Lessay and then round to the Castle de Pirou – see Trivia below. Paid e7 to get in. Argued with the receptionist that I was unemployed and therefore entitled to the discount. Didn’t win. Typical French it closes for lunch – it’s oh so difficult when you at least 3 staff to arrange lunch time cover.

Interesting old castle with a moat.

Start searching for VRBO’s in Florida. I should have been a travel agent, it’s a full time job. Floridas very full and very expensive 18/1/22 to 1/3/22.

Usual lazy start to the day. Stroll into town to the SFR shop for a SIM. Aghh, they’re not SFR anymore but too damn lazy to take the sign down. Nearest one is in Cherbourg.

Never mind have an afternoon coffee, sat outside the cafe in the sun.

It’s an alcohol free night. Sad.

Finalise most of Florida. Expensive Airbnb house, with pool, bikes and kayaks, on a lake in Hudson 19/1 to 29/1; VRBO house on Siesta key, with bikes and kayaks, 29/1 to 5/2; VRBO house in Punta Gorda 15/2 to 1/3. Yes, there’s a gap left to fill, more work.
 

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Out by 11:00, to the Thingimajega and set off to our next abode in Westport. Well turns out to be 20 minutes inland from Westport, just what we need 40 minutes round trip to the WAW.

Stop off in Donegall for a browse around, not much to recommend it apart from the friendliness and helpfulness of everyone.

Try to stop off for a saunter around Sligo but no coins and yet another rare app needs downloading to park. At this rate I’ll need an iPhone with a gigabyte of memory. Forget it, we drive on.

Stop off at Tub of curry (Tubbercurry), a small Irish town with very little to recommend it. It had a Bank with no cash. No toilets due to that universal excuse for laziness and incompetnece, COVID. Signs to tourist office, but what a surprise it’s closed – no doubt COVID strikes again. Bizarre that they filmed “Normal People” here. Also famous for the Connaught Rangers and the India mutiny of 1920 – I’m sure you’re all familiar with that.

We’ve had to spend the last 24 hours chasing our host to see how we get in. He finally rings us and wants to meet us in a pub car park to lead the way as sat nav not reliable he says. Meet him, follow him. No need as sat-nav is spot on. I suppose he thinks this is helpful customer service. Personally, I’d rather just have an email with details on how to open the door, that way you don’t have to harass them to know how to get in – simples.

Bungalows very nice and comfortable, although we’ll wear out a pair of trainers trapsing from remote kitchen back to lounge. Under floor heating is crap.
 

Take a drive onto Achill Island to explore the WAW sites there. I’ll let the photos tell the story. A long 6 hour drive, made worse by the 40 minutes drive to our abode, but in my opinion worth it, Wendy not so happy about it.

Call in at a Tesco Super store for some dinner. The small corner shop of my childhood had a better choice. Really struggled to choose anything, ended up with a Paella. Really a yellow rice bowl that had been shown a glimpse of a shrimp, a prawn and a slither of chicken. Never mind I had some wine with me.

 

Wendy has had enough of driving the WAW. She wants to have an easy day sauntering around the shops in Westport. Joy. What a waste but never let it be said that I ain’t fair.

Have to say Westport is a lovely little town with some character. Stop for a cuppa, has to be the worst tea and coffee in Ireland, but interesting people watching sat outside. Take a short drive out to the Quay for a stroll.

I’m fed up of scratting around choosing what to have for tea so I implement my new menu item, dessert. Yes, just dessert for tea. I love desserts but never have one as they’re fattening, have to save the calories for some wine. Anyway tonight’s tea is lemon meringue pie and a chocolate mouse. How’s that for innovation.

A very leisurely day.
 

To the Thingimajaga and off to Dublin. It’s a grey miserable day but as we’re driving doesn’t matter. Have to spend 40 minutes driving down the side of the Liffey. Unbelievable traffic and then to top it off the Samuael Beckett bridge is closed – seems that boats are more important than tax-paying vehicles – so it’s a major diversion. Finally get to our underground car park and then a 4-minute walk to the hotel. The car will be having a 3 day rest in the cement caverns of Dublin’s docklands.

The hotel seems good on first impressions. We’ve upgraded to an executive room so should get sky movies, but yes you’ve guessed it another screw-up, it doesn’t work. It takes them 3 hours to try and fix it. In the end, at 20:30ish they move us to a room where it works.

You’ll be hearing more on the hotel in days to come.
 

Lazy start to the day. We’re off on the hop on off green bus tour.

Hop off at the Temple bar area for a stroll around. I have a pint of Guinness in the famous Temple bar, what an awesome selection of whiskeys, while Wendy has a tuna sandwich. Wendy’s not at all impressed as there seems to be no shopping area.

Back on the bus to finish the tour. Neither of us are at all impressed with Dublin. Fortunately the weather is lovely.

Most of the Dublin pictures have been “acquired” off the internet rather than trying to take pictures of a moving bus which usually seem to end up with just the back of some bald old gits head or all sky.

Then it’s a real challenge as we try and find somewhere to eat around the yuppie docklands area. Half the places are closed, most of the menus seem to consist of just 3 items, end up at a Mexican equivalent of subway, build your own burrito. It’s very good but no plates to eat off. Wendy’s not at all impressed.

What is it with Dublin restaurants, most of them seem to have only 3 items on the menu, fish and chips; pizza; burger.

 

Lazy start to the day. We’ve booked to do the Jameson Distillery tour, the weathers sunny, so we take a stroll along the river Liffey to the distillery. Stop off for a Starbucks and sit by the river. Then in a pale imitation of an American I saunter along with Starbucks in hand.

The tour is pretty good. The comparative tasting is even better. Then we do a cask barrel tasting where they draw whiskey straight from the barrel for tasting, I think it was 60 percent ABV. As I have to drink Wendy’s share plus the free basic Jameson sample, not forgetting the tasting samples I’m rat arsed by the end of it – I should fit in well with the Liffey strewn locals, although Cider seems to be their tipple.

Then we take a stroll back and call in at the Temple Bar area for a Boxty dinner, along with a pint of their Stout – see picture. Have to say the weather, Boxty and especially the Jameson tour has really improved my view of Dublin, but we wouldn’t come back. Really a tad disappointed, had great expectations of Dublin. Dread to think what it would have been like if we hadn’t had good weather.

 

One of the few good points of this hotel is their breakfast.

The customer relations manager is marauding around breakfast and asks for our opinion. Well, I bet she regretted that. Gave her the full sorry tale.

Then to top it off we try to return to our room, hang on our card won’t work in the lift. I wonder why? Track down the customer relations manager, who sets off to get us new ones. Low and behold get to the room and it won’t let us in either. It’s only 09:05 and they were that keen to get rid of us they’ve checked us out. The customer relations manager turns up with the new cards, I bet she wanted to sink under the carpet – “I rest my case”.

Take a leisurely drive up to Belfast around the Mourn coastal route. Quite pretty but not the WAW.

Stop off at the Titanic hotel for an excellent dinner. Pity about the Apple maps having it in the wrong place and the car park sign to the hotel taking you to the wrong location. Finally, get there. You really couldn’t make this incompetence up.

Then it’s off to the ferry for a two-hour queue to board. Noddy’s well past Big Ears by the time we board, so being conservative covid cautious old farts we’re straight to our cabin, not a deluxe this time, and so to sleep. Wow, an alcohol-free day.
 

For those snowflakes, wokes and libtards who may not be able to cope with some of my Rants etc., then select here:

Set off after teatime to the ferry in Liverpool. To avoid too many roadworks on the motorways I take the route through Liverpool. What a depressing start to our holiday as we drive through shuttered, graffitied areas of Liverpool. Looks like a war torn hell hole.

Boarding of the ferry went fairly smooth, only a 30-minute wait. Our deluxe cabin is very swish with a double bed, TV, fridge, lounge area and sea view as well as a door onto a shared balcony at the blunt end of the ship / boat. Bit of a waste really as Noddy has gone past Big Ears so we just go to bed, but it was the only cabin available.
 

Arrive in Belfast at 06:30 so by 08:00 we arrive at our first stop, the Dark Hedges of Game of Thrones fame.

Then it’s onto the 2nd stop, The Giants Causeway – see Trivia write up. The National Trust visitors centre is closed and you have to book for their car park and tour well in advance, £13 each. Glad we couldn’t get on the tour. There’s something pretentious and stuck up about the NT, a bit like the Caravan Club, with their notices everywhere. Found a local car park and walked down to the causeway, cost me all of £5.

Drive along the Causeway route to the Rope Bridge but you can’t go on it so abandoned that. Really craving for a coffee so we drive down to the cafe at Ballintoy harbour, another Game Of Thrones scene that we’ve visited before. Alas, car park is ram jammed with damn tourists.

Abandon that and drive to Bushmills, free parking and at last some brown water masquerading as coffee. Spot a chippy selling Battered haggis, how tempting is that, must get to try some.

Drive onto Dunluce castle. £7 to go in but it’s shrouded in mist so we give that a miss.

What’s with the gangs of Orangemen getting ready with their regalia, are they off on a march? Lovely to see the Union flag and even the cross of Saint George proudly flying in most places. What a pity we don’t take the same pride in England, can you imagine the backlash from the woke snowflakes. I think I’ll get a Saint George flag when we get home.

Carry on along the Causeway route to Derry. We did intend to walk the walls but it looked such a depressing place in the mist and grey cloud. Drive onto our hotel at Letterkenny, a somewhat overpriced, over-starred, 4-star Raddison Blue – supposedly a 4 star but I think one star had gone over the event horizon and been consumed by a black hole. Room and decor was great and comfortable but after two of those yuppie nespro machines we give up – whoever designed them and can make such a dog’s breakfast of brewing a coffee needs shooting to save gene pool pollution.

Meal in the hotel restaraunt with all the ambience, noise, and screaming of a sports bar full of football fans was nothing special. Fortunately, end a great day with a bottle of Carmenera in our room. With such an early start it’s been a long hard day, 8 hours driving around and stopping off, but worth it.

I’ll let the photos tell the story.


 

Early start as we’ve got the Northern most part of the Wild Atlantic Way on our plans for the day – see photos that document our day. Sadly it’s grey and overcast and not very warm, but at least no rain.

Another long day especially as we finally have to drive over tortuous roller-coaster roads across Glenveagh National Park to get to Mary Doaltys Cottage near Begbun. It’s remote, so remote that Apple maps are clueless, it took us 20 minutes down dirt tracks to find it. But as you can see it’s very spacious and comfortable – 5 bedrooms for just the two of us for 4 nights.

Subway for tea and the rest of that Carmenera. We’ve earned it, another hard day. Need to start relaxing we’re on holiday.

 

A lazy start and then it’s off to do a shop. Now I’m not a religious person, so the concept of purgatory has no real meaning, but a hour’s shopping in Aldi with Wendy is my idea of purgatory, enough to make any god fearing sole follow the preachings of the bible to the letter.

On the way to Dunglow we spot Mrs brown (of “Mrs Browns Boys” fame) in rollers and slippers on her way out. Only in Ireland, oh and of course Walmart in America.

Back home for lunch and then we have a short drive down the Wild Atlantic Way, learning some common sense. At least the suns come out.

I’ll let the photos tell the story.

 

What a disaster of a day. Try to book a VRBO in Annecy. Date routine is totally screwed up and then payment gets rejected. Three failed and frustraing attempts, each with 4 software SNAFU’s, as you can imagine the air was blue. As a result of this I left my wallet on the coffee table, so what you may say?

Set off up the Wild Atlantice way. More stunning scenery and beautiful homes. I’ll let the photos tell the story.

Get to Horn Head and Wendy has lunch and then we take a walk. Near the end of the walk panic sets in as I can’t find my wallet – being a nerd it’s always in the same zipped-up pocket. Has it come out by accident as I retrieve my iPhone? Retrace my 1-mile route among the heather. No luck. Spitting feathers by now, along with a few choice words of recrimination, as I’m not sure whether it’s still at home or has dropped out with we abandon the rest of the trip – not too bad as we probably wouldn’t have wanted to go that much further on. Then retrace our car journey. Of course, I don’t find it at any of the stop-off points because it’s on the damn coffee table – oh to be a geriatric.

Back home for a late afternoon tea and then we drive down to explore Bunbeg beach. I really fancy a Guiness after todays screwup. There’s a famous Irish music pub near the beach according to Apple maps. Wrong, turns out it’s on the main road. It’s closed and may open in a hour or maybe two according to the landlord – it is Ireland, what can you expect.

Console myself with a bottle of Zinfandell.

 

A really lazy start. Off down to see the spectacular cliffs at Slieve League, reckoned to be the best coastline in the whole of Europe. Pretty impressive, even if it’s a mile walk to see them after being fleeced of £5 to park. Then a drive back up the Wild Atlantic Way. Another long day. After 6 hours on the road, I’m desparate for a pint of Guiness and yet not a pub in sight. Finally we come across a remote pub, and yes they do sell Guinness, and even though the landlord doesn’t know what a barrel glass is he manages to ferret one out for me. Somehow a pint, of no matter what, always tastes better in a barrel glass rather than a girly flower vase. As my Dad used to say “you should never drink half pints, you’ll catch a cold”.

I’ll let the photos tell the story of our day. Well worth the effort.

Back home for 19:30 for pizza and the rest of that Zinfandell.

 

For those snowflakes, wokes and libtards who may not be able to cope with some of my Rants etc., then select here:

Joy, start the day with Wendy nipping onto Tesco for a sandwich and a bottle of water. 24 minutes later she emerges. How can anyone take 24 minutes to buy two items, even if you do read the labels and sell by dates.

“To the Thingamajig-a. Here we go, go, go on a an adventure”. This time we’re off to the Isle of Man. No VRBO, for a change we’re staying in a hotel in Douglas. How I spoil her indoors.

The trip to Heysham to catch the ferry went without any holdups. Now there’s a first. Efficient boarding. Booked in the Premium lounge on the ferry, all very civilised and comfy. It’s just a four-hour crossing.

Meal in the hotel is uncertain so I enjoy my Italian Subway with plenty of Jalepenos – I’m sure at tomorrows ablutions I’ll regret it.

Hotel is smart, comfy and the room is very modern, with a separate sitting area. Wifi is a bit tempremental, about 70Mb per sec in the bedroom but only 2 in our lounge. BBC and ITV streaming is dire but Netflix is fine, they obviously know how to write apps that can deal with croissant flaky wifi.

Open a bottle of Carmenera and settle in for the night.

 

 

 

Good breakfast. Kippers for me, but after almost choking on one I seem to have got a smidgen of peppered kipper in my snot channel that brings on a severe bout of hay-fever, sneezing more than an Iguana in a ground pepper factory.

As we set off for a tour of the Southern part of the island the weather is grey and overcast, not very warm but at least no rain. Wendy is orgasmic when she spots an M&S just behind our hotel.

Drive down to Castle Town. Apart from a castle, hence their name, not really much there.

Drive down to the Calf of Man. Would love to have a coffe and lunch but the only cafe is heaving with coffin dodgers, galloping Zimmer frame cowboys and bloody tourists.

Call at Port Erin, again nothing really to write home about. Only a pizza parlour open for lunch, so its coffee for me and a kids pizza for Wendy. Good job it’s the height of the tourist season or else Wendy may have starved.

First impressions of IoM is it all seems a tad dreary and in need of a fresh coat of paint. Everywhere seems dead, I know it’s a day of rest for god bothers but it is the hight of the holiday season and they do market themselves as a holiday resort as well as a tax haven. As to the beaches well in the main they seem to be rocks and seaweed. I’m going to nominate it as the seaweed capital of Europe.

Dinner in te hotel, the food is excellent but soemwaht limited menu. They don’t know what the soup of the day is. Always a good acid test and sure enough the excellent food is let down by five sloppy service problems. Intrigued by the “Tower of Refuge”, in the bay, as we have dinner.

 

 

 

Sadly our temple of modernity has no car park so up at the crack of sparrows to move the car.

Haggis for breakfast is excellent, but again let down by service – wot no orange juice?

Lazy morning and then we set off for a drive over to Peel. Lash out £6 each to explore the castle. Have a shufty around the town, nothing much there but manage to find an ice cream parlour that serves coffee and some food. There was a harbour side kiosk that sold Kipper, crab or mackeral baps. Very tempting but having to sit outside at tables, in fear for our life of being blown into the harbour is a tad off putting. It’s grey, over cast, and colder than a witches tit in a brass bra is not my idea of fun.

Drive up the coast to Ramsey. Have a shuffty round but again nothing worth seeing, other than a rusty bridge. Head back home. Another dissappointing day spoilt by a blustery, cold day and uninspiring places.

Dinner at a wine bar. How trendy is that. Excellent food at wine bar prices.

 

 

 

After another lazy start then we drive up the coast to the Laxey Wheel. The highlight of our trip and the sun comes out, how lucky can we be?

We both have our phobias challenged. I manage to climb right to the top of the wheel, going up isn’t the problem, coming down is, but I made it. Then we go off to the mine and Wendy manages to challenge her phobia by going all the way in. Very impressive. Have a drive into Old Laxey, nothing to get orgasmic about there.

Back to the hotel for afternoon tea.

For the evening meal I finally discover what Queenies are (Queen scallop (Aequipecten opercularisis) is a medium sized species of scallop, an edible ‘marine bivalve mollusc’ in the family Pectinidae). they’re small and delicious, especially when served with Pancetta in a creamy cheese sauce, then a pulled pork Faijita. Hefty portions of both.

 

 

 

Our last day, thank the FSM, we’ve had enough of the IoM. Fortunately we get a late check out.

Then to kill some time before the ferry we set off to explore yet another Neolithic Tomb. Difficult to find and I haven’t the foggiest idea why I wanted to see it, but it was on my list. It’s very remote, a challenge to find and amazingly there are other people there – I think they’re Druids as one of them is lovingly fondling and stroking one of the stones – bizarre.

Then we decide to drive around and see the only mountain on the IoM, well really a hill. All we see is cloud. Well at least we get to finish off the TT course.

Back to Douglas to kill a couple of hours – shopping – before it’s time for dinner. Not one of the most exciting shopping precincts. Meander round like two lost turtles. Finally time for dinner in the wine bar again. What a treat one of there specials is half a lobster with Queenies. Sadly I can’t drink as I have to drive but I’m orgasmic as I discover they sell alcohol free Jever, not quite as good as the real McCoy, but what a treat.

Ferry crossing is smooth and pretty well organised then it’s just an hours drive and we’re home and in bed by 01:00.

Well I suppose we’re glad we’ve been to the IoM but wild Unicorns and free trips to a lap dancing bar couldn’t drag me back.

It’s all rather tired and dreary with very little to offer us. Seems full of coffin dodgers. Beaches seem to be sea weed strewn rock fields. Only saw one child making sandcastles. You have to question whether they’re really want tourists. Apart from the Laxey Wheel and possibly the blustery Peel castle there’s nothing much to recommend it. Fortunately our 4 star hotel was good and meals, inlacing breakfasts were excellent.