After a cold, choppy crossing that left me questioning my life choices, we finally set foot (or wheel) in France. Destination? Montreuil, a charming spot less than an hour from Calais. Normally, this place is brimming with vans, but it seems even the hardiest motorhome enthusiasts draw the line at winter camping in the rain. With just one other van parked up when we arrive, I wonder if we missed the memo but we didn’t.
I foolishly declared as we pulled in, “Isn’t it great the motorhome is behaving itself?” but the vans clearly developed a sense of humour, because it immediately decides to spice things up by refusing to hold a charge on the leisure batteries. Cue us shivering under layers of blankets, resembling the bedraggled Bucket family from Willy Wonka. There’s nothing like sipping a cup of tea in bed while trying to break your frozen Twix in half, meanwhile John’s main concern? “Don’t get chocolate everywhere!” Trust me, love, it’s frozen solid – not much risk of it melting anytime soon!
The next day, we set off south, hoping the weather and our spirits would improve. They didn’t. After a four-hour drive, we stopped in Evreux, which despite being next to a busy road, had promising reviews. And sure, it was fine – until 11:30 pm, when the area transformed into a budget nightclub. Loud music, cars screeching, shouting, and door-slamming kept us company until 8 am. By the time morning rolled around we were one yawn away from committing murder. To add insult to injury, the exit barrier broke, meaning we had to battle with the camping car park team to let us out.
Tired and ready to throw in the towel, John – ever the optimist – insisted we push further south to escape the Arctic chill. I, being cold and cranky, was not thrilled. While I popped into Lidl to stock up on essentials ( snacks), John played the Good Samaritan, helping a fellow camper with a breakdown, we clearly hadn’t had enough of battery problems this week. I did offer them my large box of swanvest just incase they felt the need to strike a light but they declined settling for a bump start.
Our next stop was Veigné, nestled along the flooded banks of the Indre River. The upside, it was peaceful, but the downside, it was flooded and boggy. Also, with it being a Sunday, the village was in full “nothing is open” mode. But at least there wasn’t a rave this time, so small victories.
By now, we’d realized our leisure batteries weren’t about to resurrect themselves, so we went in search of replacements. At €200 each, we decided to just rely on electric hook-ups for the foreseeable future and save our euros for more important things (like cake ).
One such hook-up was at Val de Vignes, a picturesque spot surrounded by vineyards. The views were stunning, with rolling fields stretching as far as the eye could see. The village itself, while tiny, had a surprising number of amenities – a shop, barber, hairdresser, and post office.
Eventually, we reached Bidart, where – miracle of miracles – the sun was shining. We wasted no time heading out for a walk along the seafront, finally able to enjoy the great outdoors without waterproofs and an umbrella. That evening, it was even warm enough to leave the van door open. But of course, the weather gods weren’t done with us yet. By morning, the rain had returned with a vengeance, following us into Spain. Whoever said the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain had never driven there.
After a week of non-stop driving, dodgy batteries, leaking pipes, and questionable camping spots, we finally started to feel a hint of warmth and John has finally figured out which side of the road he is supposed to be on after a few heart-stopping moments.
But if this week has taught us anything, it’s that optimism is John’s superpower, and mine is finding cake in the middle of chaos. Let’s see what the next chapter brings.
Leaving Dover its a shame its a rough crossing because we have a great view
Docking in Calais the decks are full of puddles
Bidart is just 3km from Barirritz so we have a walk along the seafront
We spend the night in the village of Veigne where its wet and boggy
You never know what you might spot at a round about in France
Life in a motorhome: where even showering turns into an adventure. One moment, I’m stepping out of the shower like everything’s fine, and the next, water’s gushing everywhere, and the pipes have decided to quit on us – send help!
We are using the Pverde app in Spain it is handy for locating convenient motorhome places which include both free and paid spots with minimal fees.
We woke up to a cold, foggy morning in Vitoria-Gasteiz, to discover our new neighbour who had arrived late last night. With about 20 empty spots to choose from, they naturally decided the best one was right next to us—apparently, our ears needed to join their late-night chat party.
In between the rain, we get out for a proper walk into the centre of Vitoria Gasteiz
When we arrive in Doñinos de Salamanca the sun is finally shining so its a cup of tea in the Sun
Coordinates for Aires used in France and Spain
Montruiel
N 50° 27′ 34
E 1° 45′ 34
Évreux
N 49° 1′ 23
E 1° 8′ 18
Veigne
N 47° 17′ 21
E 0° 44′ 5
Val des Vignes
N 45° 32′ 8
W 0° 2′ 30
Barizzitz
N 43° 27′ 58
W 1° 34′ 18
Vitoria Gasteiz
N 42° 52′ 1
W 2° 41′ 7
Doñinos de Salamanca
N 40° 58 14
W 5° 43′ 41