Oradour-sur-Glane. (The Martyr Village)

Saturday 14th June. We have driven 175 miles north to the Limousin region and the small town of Oradour-sur-Glane, not too far from Limoges. The story of Oradour has been documented by others with much more knowledge than me (http://www.oradour.info) but the story is quite horrific.

Oradour was a prosperous village with an old and famous church. Several hotels and restaurants welcomed visitors who enjoyed the area. It was particularly attractive to residents of Limoges who enjoyed picnics and fishing in the Glane which was full of fish. There was even a tram line into the village.

On the day of the attack there were a larger number of people in the village than normal because there was a distribution of tobacco and children from nearby hamlets were in the school. The 2nd SS Panzer Division had been ordered to head north from Valence-d’Agen, near Toulouse, to stop the Allied advance after D-Day. The Comanding Officer was told that a fellow officer was being held by the Resistance in the nearby village of Oradour-sur- Vayres. Unfortunately the two similarly named villages were confused and the battalion sealed off Oradour-sur-Glane in error.

In the early afternoon units of the S.S. surrounded the village and ordered the inhabitants to assemble on the fairground, an open area in the centre of the village. Machine guns were set up, women and men from surrounding villages and lines of schoolchildren, accompanied by their teachers, were rounded up. Women and children were sent to the church, men were separated into smaller groups and sent to different places in the village for execution. The men were machine gunned and explosions were heard before the troops set fire to the piles of bodies. In the church the S.S. set fire to an incendiary device which produced dense smoke sending the women into a panic and rushing for the doors. The troops were waiting with machine guns to force them back inside. Only one women survived, the youngest child was only eight days old. In a few hours 642 people, including 247 women and 205 children, were killed and 328 buildings destroyed.

The village was left and not returned to, with a new village built next to it. Now there is a memorial/ visitor centre and access to the remains of the buildings which have been left much as they were after the massacre.

It is a sombre place and as you enter the old village there is a large, faded sign with just one word:- SILENCE. Never have I been anywhere in France where the natives en masse are quiet. There are  always loud voices and conversations held at the tops of their voices. But here, apart from a couple of people, there are almost whispered conversations. People talk quietly and with respect, even the children are quiet. Until, towards the end of our visit, we pass a large group of Dutch who are part of a coach trip. Several of them talk at the tops of their voices despite our looks of disapproval and ‘shushing’.

The ruins still contain artefacts that would have been in use at the time, rusting sewing machines, bent and buckled bikes, the remains of a kitchen range and many cars and farm implements. On a pile of rubble in one house is a child’s cycle and in the church a heap of melted bronze is all that is left of the bells. A wooden widow frame swings open in the breeze and the fine shop blind over the butchers is now rusty and bent.

Tram wires and tracks amid the ruins.

The Doctors car, left where it stopped.

Ruined buildings

A family memorial

Fireplace and cooking pots

The buckled remains of a childs bike.

The tram station

Tram tracks

The village post office.

Water pump.

The village garage, still with its advertising signs.

Burnt out cars next to the garage.

Blacksmiths shop.

Farmyard and well.

Farm buildings.

Village church.

Oradour church

Church interior.

The melted remains of the church bells.

Barn and farm implements.

More burnt out cars.

One would think that the sort of massacre that went on in Oradour seventy years ago could never be repeated but then one switches on the evening news and hears of the same thing still happening in countries in Africa and the Middle East. Will mankind ever learn?

We left the old village in reflective mood and sat on a low wall in the shade. A blackbird was singing loudly from a nearby tree and I realised that I had not been aware of any birdsong whilst in the old village.

---

 

Back to the motorhome which is parked on the large free aire (GPS 45°56’07.26”N 1°01’30.66”E) in the village and we are back in range of UK satellite reception and can get all the BBC and ITV channels once again. We indulge in a bit of classic comedy to lighten our mood in the evening.

Aire at Oradour-sur-Glane.

On Sunday morning we continue our progress north and after looking up the aires we could use decide to return to a small site we have used several times before at Salbris. For less than £15 a night for a pitch overlooking the lake Camping de Sologne (GPS 47°25’48.84N 2°03’16.49”E) is great value for money. We have supper in the snack bar and a fairly early night.

Our pitch by the lake at Salbris.

We must be getting closer to good old UK as after leaving Salbris on a bright sunny morning the cloud gets thicker and greyer the further north we drive. We arrive back at La Mailleraye to dark cloud and a stiff breeze.

We rather like the aire on the banks of the Seine but it always seems to be either raining, cloudy, stormy or any combination of the above. Welcome back to reality and Northern Europe!

Tuesday morning and it more of the same…..cloud, cloud cloud. North again almost to Calais and for the third day in a row we are driving into very strong head winds, it is destroying my fuel economy as we are lucky to get more than 23mpg. After a stop for supplies, well booze mostly, the fuel station refuses the credit card we have just used in their store, I have used the same card there on a previous trip without problems. A second card is also refused so I give up and drive on to another fuel station where the original card is accepted.

We spend our last night in France at Camping Les Erables (GPS 50°54’44.16N 1°43’13.97”E) in the hills overlooking the channel. There are two aires in Calais we could use but they cost around €8 per night, tend to be noisy and there can be undesirables hanging around. This super little site costs €10, has great views and is quiet, peaceful and secure.

I booked our ferry for late afternoon to give us plenty of time on our final day but by mid-day we have finished the last minute shopping we wanted to do and the motorhome is groaning under the weight of wine and beer. Rather than hang around until 4pm we try for an earlier ferry and go through passport control and on to P&O check in. We can take the next ship at the cost of an extra £60 or the one after for £20 extra…..as the standard crossing is £50 they are having a laugh. They do though offer us a crossing one hour earlier at no extra cost so we take that. We are too early to join a queue for the 3.05 ferry so we have to leave the dock area through a side gate and come back later. We trundle off into Calais and park overlooking the marina and have some lunch and read until it is time to go back through passport control. We will now appear to have entered the UK twice without leaving in between……most suspicious.

A lovely smooth and quiet crossing in the Club Lounge and because we are parked with the trucks and coaches right at the stern of the ship we are the second vehicle off at Dover. After 2000 miles around France without any holdups we get to the Dartford Crossing which takes 45 minutes to get through and we have to pay them £2 for the dubious pleasure.   By 7pm we are safely home having done 2150 miles @ 24.5mpg.

---

I thought it might be of interest to some people who might be thinking about a similar sort of trip to give a rough idea of the likely cost of four weeks touring in France. I have not included food and drink as we would have to pay for that whether we were at home or away.

Basic Costs

1. P&O ferry (return) £100
2. Fuel (2150 miles    £438
3. Sites & Aires (28 nights, 6 on sites, 8 free) £165
4. LPG gas £28

Total basic costs £731

Extra optional costs

1. P&O Club Lounge (return) £48
2. A16 motorway toll (south) £14
3. CC Red Pennant insurance £135

Total optional costs £197

Overall costs £928.

La Romieu

Friday 13th June.

We have spent four very pleasant days at Le Camp de Florence despite the 90° plus heat.

The whole site seems to have a very relaxed and laid back feel which we felt as soon as we arrived. The staff are all extremely pleasant and seem to smile constantly, not something you always find, particularly in France. To Kate’s great disappointment the site restaurant was closed on Tuesday when we arrived so we had something from the snack bar, steak frites for me and fish and chips for Kate. The next evening we had an excellent meal on the terrace outside the restaurant. We have a couple of walks into the village of La Romieu, it is a hot, ancient and sleepy place and we sit on a shady seat in the beautifully restored village square and watch the world go by……not that there is a lot going by. And that is how the four days pass, a little walk, sit in the sun until the heat gets too much and we have to retreat inside, eating and sitting outside late into the evening enjoying the cooler air.

La Romieu town square

Roses at La Romieu

Roses round the door

La Romieu statue.

La Romieu by night

Thar’s snow in them thar hills.

We are on an aire (GPS 42°44’18.64″N 0°01’10.53″W), well a rough area of stone and gravel, just off a ‘no through road’ above the mountain town of Gavarnie. Surrounded by mountains we are at the dizzying height of 5000ft and parked beside a rushing mountain stream. The air is fresh and surprisingly warm but there is a lot of cloud around and the snow is still thick on the mountain tops, which don’t seem too much higher than we are. Two of the well known mountain passes, Col du Tourmalet and Col d’ Aspin are closed so there must be a lot of snow around.

Gavarnie Aire 2

Gavarnie Aire

Mountain stream

We are keeping a lookout for little furry creatures called marmots who, we are reliably informed, inhabit this place. So far there has been neither sight nor sound of the little beasties.
Soon after I started to write this the rain came, together with a single flash of lightning and a very loud clap of thunder. The rain continued for some time and our mountain stream rushed even more.

Saturday 7th June.

The rain has gone and there are just wisps of cloud coming off the mountain tops.
After breakfast we drive down into the village and park in what we thought from one of our books was an aire de camping car but turns out to be an ordinary car park. There are lots of camping cars there though so we lock up and go to explore. The tourist office is the first call and as Kate browses the leaflets and booklets I spy a free wi-fi sign. After downloading a pile of emails, mostly junk, we chat to the very friendly and helpful chap behind the desk. He explains how we can walk to see the Cirque de Gavarnie, an amazing circle of peaks with the highest waterfall in Europe. It is a good hours walk each way but there is a very good view point after a shorter distance.

Beside the river and into the mountains.

Kate decides that the shorter distance is quite far enough so we set off along the main street and onto a well surfaced path. We cross the river, which is a raging torrent of icy melt water, and follow it past meadows full of wild flowers and a herd of goats grazing on the hillside.

Wild flowers everywhere.

Mountain river.

Kate on a pretty stone bridge.

Ahead of us the snow covered peaks look glorious in the sunshine. We reach a steep and stoney incline and into the cool shade of beech woods, we are now well above the river. We come out of the woods onto an open ‘balcony’ with fabulous views of the Cirque and waterfall, in fact there are numerous waterfalls as the snow melts. After thoroughly taking in the view and taking a few photos we turn back towards the village.

Cirque de Gavarnie

Cirque de Gavarnie panorama

Waterfalls everywhere

A lovely view.

Cirque de Gavarnie 2

Next stop is a bar with tables beside the river where we have a most welcome beer in the sun before continuing back to base.

Beer break

We drive back up the D923, around a couple of hairpin bends, to our aire, although this time we go well away from the rushing water in the stream. It is a lovely afternoon so it’s chairs out and sit in the sun and read before I get the BBQ fixed up ready for supper.

Sunday 8th June.

Another lovely morning and today we intend to move on to the Lac d’Estaing (GPS 42°54’28.63″N 0°12’15.66″W). We know it is a popular spot but apart from a quick look on Google Earth we have no idea if we can camp there for a night or two…….time will tell.

Lac d’Estang

Stunning, stunning, stunning……….the first words that come to mind when we arrive at the Lac d’Estaing. The lake was carved out by a glacier and if fed by the melt waters from the mountains that encircle it. It is a beautiful sunny Sunday so it is a popular and busy spot and the car park at the far end of the lake is crowded. There is a cafe bar and gift shop and picnic tables under the trees but we drive round and back along the approach road to find a quiet spot on the wide grass verge beside the lake. Outside our door there is a grassy bank covered in wild flowers which drops down the the water and across the blue/green water is a quite magnificent backdrop of mountain peaks, still with snow on the tops. To Kate’s huge delight there is even a herd of mountain cattle, complete with clanging cow bells, wandering free across the meadows. One cow stands patiently in the middle of the road, completely oblivious to the passing cars, while her calf suckles from her.

Mountain herd.

Lac d’Estang 3

Chairs and books out and we spend the afternoon enjoying the sun and views.
The peace and quiet are broken when two car loads of youngsters turn up and park beside us but they soon take themselves off for a walk and peace returns……until they return an hour or so later. We think they will get into their cars and go like many others are at the end of the afternoon but no they are going to stay and party. The behaviour is boorish with much shouting and yelling and the boys trying to impress the girls. By now we have retreated inside to watch the Canadian Grand Prix so I turn up the volume to drown out the racket from outside. Some time later, to our relief, they leave and peace and quiet once again returns.
We spend a quiet night, the only sound is rushing water from the small falls at the end of the lake and at first light the distant sound of cow bells.

The small falls at the end of the lake.

Monday is yet another public holiday in France so we expect the lake will be busy with lots of families again. After breakfast we take our rubbish and empties and walk along to the main car park area where there are bins. Although there is a little cloud swirling around the mountain tops it is a sunny day again and we walk right round the lake. It is a glorious walk, looking at all the different flowers, watching small lizards scuttling away across the rocks and I scramble up the bank to inspect a tunnel, large enough to walk through, cut through the hardened snow by a small stream.

Hard packed snow formed into a tunnel where a stream flows through just a few feet above the lake.

Back to base and it is time to get the loungers out and have coffee.
The air has a more humid feel and the cloud and thin overcast come and go but when there is full sun ‘it ain’t arf hot mum’. At frequent intervals we both retreat into the cool of the motorhome for a while.
Supper, or at least part of it, is going to be cooked on the BBQ so I extricate it from it’s storage place and start putting it together. There are ominous dark clouds over the peaks and we hope it won’t rain. I could put the awning out to shelter under but there is a stiff breeze coming up from the valley that occasionally turns into a damaging gust. Earlier in the afternoon a couple having a picnic next to us watched as their sun umbrella took off and sailed over their car and across the road, luckily no one was passing at the time as it could have caused a fair bit of damage. I am all set to start cooking the steak and salmon, beer in hand, BBQ tools at the ready, when there are spots of rain and a loud rumble of thunder. The few spots become bigger and more frequent so I turn off the gas and prepare to cook inside. Immediately the rain stops so it’s back to Plan A. There is just enough time to cook everything before the rain returns, at least the meat and fish are not quite raw. In fact they were rather good.

Wild flowers 3

Blue butterfly

Little lizard

Wild flowers 2

Lac d’Estang 2

End of the lake 2

We get up on Tuesday morning to the sound of bells but this time they are sheep. A small flock trot past and then back again, they seem to be lost or looking for the rest of the flock. It’s no wonder they can’t find the others because we are in the middle of cloud and visibility is only a few yards. Fog often clears as the sun gets up and burns it off, perhaps that will happen today and it will turn out to be glorious. By eleven there is a little improvement but not much. We either sit it out and hope for an improvement or go elsewhere……we choose the latter.
Last year we spent several lovely days at Le Camp de Florence at La Romieu (GPS 43°58’57.81″N 0°30’06.59″E), a gem of a village in Gascony. We said we would like to go back and as it is a reasonable distance from the mountains perhaps the weather might be better. They also have a restaurant and bar so we could eat out for a change. The sky gets brighter as we leave the mountains behind and we arrive at La Romieu in hot sunshine.
This is the first camp site we have used in almost three weeks away and the first time we have used electric hook up. Last time we were in France our two leisure batteries were getting low after just 3 or 4 days despite being in full sun. The new Banner batteries that Simpsons fitted under warranty have made an enormous difference to our motorhoming. Despite charging iPads, laptop and running an inverter for the Sky box to watch hours of grand prix racing the batteries have stayed charged.

Camping de Florence.

Camping de Florence 2

View from our pitch at La Romieu.

Leaving the Med.

Thursday 5th June.

With a little reluctance we leave Gruissan after more than a week in the same spot. The sun has been glorious but the constant wind did get a little wearing. However, on the morning we leave it is glorious, full sun and barely a breath of wind.
The decision has been made though and we hit the road again after a stop at the Gruissan Cave to stock up on a few bottles and then into the service station next door for diesel and gas. Despite 15-16 days running the fridge/freezer, cooking, hot water and a little heating on the first few days we have used just over one cylinder full, about 25 ltrs, of LPG. We have not been on mains hook up since leaving home.
We thread our way through Narbonne to a supermarket we have used before and do a big shop…..we may be well clear of shopping opportunities if we end up high in the mountains.
By the time we have stocked up it is well on the way to mid-day so we have decided to break our journey with a stop at Gimont, a small town between Toulouse and Auch.
Over the river bridge at the far side of the town and there is a small free aire beside a lake (GPS 43°37’47.95″N 0°52’10.00″E). It is close to the busy N124 so there is bound to be a bit of noise but it is a pleasant spot with locals jogging, fishing, feeding the ducks or just out for a walk. The sun is shining, there is no wind and we might even have a BBQ.

We did 136 miles today @ 27.6mpg.

Next to the Aire at Gimont.

 

Heading for the wilds.

We have been in Gruissan for over a week now and it is high time we moved on. We rarely stay in one place for this long when we are touring in France but we seem to like it here, so why not? 

We have a great pitch, tucked up in a corner in the quietest part of the aire with the water only feet away. We can walk around the marina to the local shops, passing line after line of lovely looking and expensive boats and all for 8€50 per night.

Despite the wind, the weather has been glorious and today, Wednesday, is the first time is hasn’t been sunny for the whole day. Mind you, Meteo France had been warning us of that for several days so it was no surprise. So, today is cloudy and we even had half a dozen drops of rain this afternoon but we are all still in shorts and tee shirts and it is lovely and warm.

Tomorrow we are going west and then turning south and up into the high Pyrénées where the weather forecast looks good for the next few days. We need to replenish our food and booze stock as well as fuel and gas on route so we will take a leisurely drive tomorrow and stop over between Toulouse and the mountains. 

After over a week by the Med we are so chilled we are almost frozen.

Boat for sale

Luxury cruising

 

One careful owner.

 

Live in style on the Med with this luxury cruiser which is presently tied up at Gruissan Port.

A little servicing and pre sailing maintenance may be required to bring the boat back to her full glory but it should be well within the capability of any DIY enthusiast.

 

What: Luxury cruising you have always dreamed of

When: Offers by July 2014

Where: Robin, Rex and Bodgit Shipbuilders, suppliers to the Swiss Navy and the Presidents of Zimbabwe and other African states.

Cash sales only!

The Frantic Frog

One of the joys of staying on an Aire de Camping Car in France is people watching……and we do quite a lot of that.

The aire at Gruissan was particularly crowded at the end of the week, what with it being a public holiday on Thursday, the nice sunny weather and that the other Gruissan aire, at the plage, was closed due to a windsurfing shindig and concert. As soon as a someone left, another motorhome would grab the space, particularly if the spot had a view of the sea.

On Friday morning there was a space beside us and that was when Frantic Frog appeared.

Now, life on an aire is a pretty casual and relaxed affair, nobody is in a rush, everyone saunters around and motorhomes, when they move, tend to trickle slowly along at not much more than walking pace.

Frantic Frog, as I named her, drove a small camper based on a Ford Transit panel van. She was a French lady of middle age and was on her own. She drove into our part of the aire and spied the space beside us, there were a couple more slots by this time as people left. She dived forwards into the space, braking sharply to avoid the large rock that was in the hedge in front of her. Into reverse and shot back a few feet and then forward again to the exact same spot, a manoeuvre that was repeated twice more. The sliding side door was flung back and out she jumped to march round to the back of the van to check her position. She marched around to look to see if there was space between us and the sea…..no chance. She looked across at another space and then marched back at speed and disappeared into her van. The engine restarted and she shot back again, this time applying a small amount of steering. Ahh! I thought, she is moving across to the nicer space by the marina. But no, more forwards and backwards, accompanied by heavy braking and she moved a foot or so closer to us. After all the shunting the van was still parked at an angle to everyone else.

Having settled herself in she locked up to go for a walk and marched off, again at 120 paces a minute, only to return after 20 paces for something she had forgotten. Each time she left the van it seemed to be in the same manner.

Late on Sunday afternoon she left, presumably because of work on Monday morning.

She departed in the same style as her arrival. With a slight tweak on the steering she could have reversed into the wide open spaces at the centre of the aire, but no, she tried to reverse into the small gap between us and our neighbours. At the second attempt she almost took out the whole group who were sitting outside enjoying an early evening apéritif.

We felt exhausted just being along side Frantic Frog for a couple of days.