Epilogue

It's been a week, I've caught up with all the necessary friends and family, I've posted the photos on facebook and I've been spending some quality time with the badger. It hasn't worked. She's still sulking, even after I gave her the present I bought her back, a red scarf with a bull on it all the way from Pamplona, she is now a Basque-spaniel albeit a grumpy one.
 It's a bit weird being back, I know wasn't away for 12 months or on the other side of the world or undertaking a perilous adventure but it was 23 days on my own in a van and that was perilous enough in itself. I've talked a lot, more than normal just because people can properly understand me and I can understand them, I thought my French was OK, not fluent by a long shot but good enough to get by until a waiter in Etretat dampened my enthusiasm, he said, "Please speak English, its easier for me to understand good English than bad French". I was deflated and he was under-tipped.
 I've realised that there are certain aspects of French culture that I really like, especially in the Basque regions, they fly flags, national and regional and don't care if it offends anyone, they put crosses and statues of Christ at road junctions and don't care if it offends anyone, they eat horse and frois gras and don't care if it offends anyone, they proudly bullfight and don't care if it offends anyone, they urinate in the street, smoke anywhere and guess what, they don't care if it offends anyone. I don't agree with all aspects of the culture especially the bullfighting but I love the fact that they do not care if it offends anyone, it is their home, their land, their culture and their traditions all of which they are fiercely proud of and will continue to celebrate without a care for any outside opinion and I really respect that.
 I like the Aire culture, I paid a total of 8 Euros and 50 cents in accommodation while I was away and that was by choice at a municipal site, the people I met were friendly, especially the Dutch and I was amazed at the respect for these sites, I know if you had a shower/toilet block open 24/7 in a car park on the edge of Bideford it would be awash with graffiti, criminal damage and drug users within hours and by no means am I saying that these things don't exist in France, they just seemed to be better hidden. I don't think that staying at Aires would necessarily be a good way for families to see France unless you have a big motorhome with a shower and a toilet, I seemed to be grabbing either wherever I could and you wouldn't want to know some of the stories !
 I covered a total of 2464 miles in the van and according to the app on my phone another 467 on the bike, I've got a nice tan, I returned without over or under spending, only two things broke the entire time, my phone charger and my bike lock and this is point where I have to praise the van. It's twenty years old, I bought it, ripped it to pieces, turned it into something ti was never meant to be and hacked it to Spain. It sat in traffic jams for over two hours in Biarittz in thirty plus degrees and didn't falter, I drove it over the Pyrenees at some nigh on impossible angles and it didn't bat an eyelid. I really could not think of a better vehicle for the budget and i would recommend a Granvia to anyone.
 Settling back in at home has mainly comprised of laundry and lots of it, well that and planning the next trip. Going away this summer has taught me a few things but probably the most important is that some things you day dream about are attainable without a massive budget, things aren't as far away as you think and depending on what your desires are you can bag more than one in a matter of weeks. I've drank Burgandy in Burgandy, Bordeaux in Bordeaux, Champagne in Champagne, eaten Rochefort in Rochefort, I've seen the D-Day beaches, Merville battery, the Lorient U-boat pens, Oradour-sur-glane, I've seen a top14 match and Toulouse play in Biarittz, I've revisited childhood memories on Jersey, I've had coffee with Hemingway and I've seen, done, tasted and listened to sights, sounds, foods, drinks and experiences I wasn't planning on and wasn't expecting all in the space of 23 days. It's amazing what you can achieve with a touch of resolve and an open mind. I'm glad I did it, I really am.

Next up, the Northern lights....the Arctic circle isn't that far away right ???

Oh and I saw some bridges, some really nice bridges.

22nd of August Dieppe to Northam via Newhaven

Turns out I did a bit of both, started watching 'Game of thrones' and fell asleep, I dozed for a couple of hours before my alarm went off at half 3, I gave the van the once over and headed across the roundabout to the ferry terminal, I checked in and parked up, there was little to do apart from try and grab another hours sleep. I woke again to the sound of engines being fired up and followed suit, the ferry was quite nice but leaving France was never going to allow me to enjoy the trip home.
 As the lights of Dieppe faded into the dark distance so did my willingness to stay awake. I slept for most of the journey and was startled awake by the captain doing what I can only describe as the nautical version of a handbrake turn to get us in the right place to enter the tiny harbour of Newhaven. What a dump, sorry if I offend anybody who may read this and may be from Newhaven but what an ugly place, I felt almost embarrassed that this was the first sight of the UK that some people will have, there was a literally one other ship there and it was being filled with scrap metal by a largish rusty crane that looked like it should make some sort of suicidal attempt to load itself on as the last of the payload.
 What followed was hell. A journey that the ever faithful - apart from that morning last week - satnav said would take a mere 5 hours, satnavs however have no awareness of what a bank holiday is nor what a demoralising, unkempt, idiot infested stretch of concrete the A303 is.
 7 and a half hours later I was pulling in to Mum's driveway, I opened the door and the badger was waiting, she jumped into my arms and sniffed and wiggled and licked for a good 5 minutes before putting on her best "you left me alone" face and retreating to the garden for a sulk.

That was it, adventure over.

21st of August, Etretat to Dieppe.

I was indeed up early and showered, almost feeling like a human being I cycled the 5 minutes into town, the market was in full flow half 8, lots of fresh fruit and veg, cooked and cured meats, bread and of course cheese, if the van hadn't only just returned to a somewhat normal, read combination of lived in by a bloke for 3 weeks and a handful of magic trees (not quite Paulie's magic forest but close) I would have been tempted to buy some more. I also saw a market stall that offer an answer to a question that had been bugging me, why do French men get their clothes ? Well now I know, I spent a full ten minutes looking around this rather large market stall and came to the conclusion that there was not a single item for sale that I would contemplate wearing if my life depended on it and I am by no means fashionable, the only comparison I can make and this will only make sense to a few readers, would be to an Asian run company called "Leisure lines" who used to frequent Holsworthy market on a Wednesday morning throughout the eighties and early nineties, for everybody else, it was just crap.

I returned to the van glad that not only had I visited Etretat but that I had plumped for the camp-site, I said goodbye to the French couple set up next to me and off I went. I wasn't expecting much from Dieppe, I knew the Aire was close to the ferry terminal so I wasn't counting on it being quaint, as I approached the town/city ? I topped up with cheap diesel in anticipation of my hack down the A303 tomorrow, I found the Aire with ease, it wasn't quite as bleak as anticipated and was literally 100 yards from the terminal, no chance of getting lost in the

morning ! I parked up, locked up and unstrapped the bike for my final cycle round the final stop of my tour, you cross back the other side of the harbour for the town and pebble beach of Dieppe, only a 5 minute ride and you are almost instantly met with quite how nice a place it is, not the industrial and harsh environment I was for some reason expecting, it was also really sunny, which helps.

I spent the day ambling around, taking in the sights, learning as much as I could about the place and people watching along the open plan seafront walled each end by high white cliffs, I can see why this was such a difficult place for the Canadians to attack in 1942 and why it was such an easy place to defend. There are memorials and Canadian flags everywhere, even now, a nice touch I think.

I ate this evening at a strange little bistro, the owner asked me before I ordered what my favourite part of the French cuisine was and without hesitation I said cheese ! He proposed that I had a dish that I can't pronounce let alone spell that was a sort of French twist on calzone using more like a bread than a pizza crust and stuffed with 4 French cheeses, a goats cheese of some description, Camembert, Brie and Rocheforte, it was amazing and washed down with a Leffe or two saw me content for the evening. I watched the sun go down across the sea towards Blighty and lingered for a while to take in the last sights and sounds as I made my way back through the town, as I rounded the corner to go back to the ferry side of the harbour it turned out that France had one more bridge surprise for me, the cantilever bridge was being raised to allow a couple of trawlers out, nice to watch the engineering in action, some massive hydraulic rams right there, even if I had to wait 20 minutes in the middle of the road.

So to the van and my evening writing session, Dieppe had been much nicer than I had given it credit for, maybe it's because I'm going home in the morning and it was more what it signified than the place itself but either way, I'm glad I spent the day here. It's now half ten and I have only one decision left to make, my ferry is at half 5 and you need to be booked in an hour and a half before it goes so I need to be up at half 3, should I have a snooze or see it through watching Game of thrones ?

20th of August Saint Sauveur to Etretat.

I'm very pleased about two things today. Firstly when I woke this morning, stowed the van and fired up the satnav everything worked, apart from the satnav. I kind of knew where I was heading and set out regardless, this included heading over a rather large suspension bridge (not quite as big as the St Naizarre bridge) I knew I was going to before I left because I could see it from the Aire, we all know by now that I like a good bridge and this one didn't disappoint, I smiled for the first time today. I successfully navigated the bridge, some motorway and some rather confusing triple roundabouts before finding the road to Etretat at the first time of asking. Upon arrival the Aire look pleasant enough but was right next door to the municipal camp site, seeing as this was to be my last full night in France I thought I'd treat myself for the princely sum of 8 euros I was not only given a pitch but electric and a shower ! God I've missed showers. It turns out that I made the choice at the right time, I was only gone for an hour on the bike and when I returned there was a sign to say the camp-site was full, I was tempted to have another shower to celebrate.

I know I said there were two reasons I was pleased with myself today, the first was getting here unaided and the second is choosing to come here in the first place, I'd never heard of Etretat before, it was merely a location in the green binder that was on the coast and in the direction of Dieppe. It is a lovely little seaside town with lots of shops, bars and restaurants as well as a pebble beach that is flanked by two large cliffs that have eroded to provide some quite spectacular viewing, so much so that Claude Monet painted scenes depicting both ends of the beach as he could decide which he liked best ! Coming to the end of Quartermaine I sat in the sun and watched the sailing school and the windsurfers before the local fishing boats returned. They are aluminium hulled small boats and when they returned to the beach they are simply winched up the pebble slope on pallets, spun round and left ready to head out again on the next tide, very simple but very efficient.

I enjoyed a meal out this evening and spent a while idly cycling around the town, this was a great way to bring my last full day to a close, I hear there's a market tomorrow morning so I must be up early for that and I'll need to have at least two showers before I make my way to Dieppe.

19th of August, Cormeilles to La Riviere St Sauveur.

It rained like hell during the night and the sound of the drops on the roof of the van reminded me of being a young boy under canvas in the scouts, it made last night feel like proper camping, like an adventure, it also mildly pissed me off because I was knackered.

Today I was to explore a stretch of the Normandy coastline I had been yearning to see for many years, in

particular 5 bays along a stretch of coast from Montebourg to Ouistreham or Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno and Sword as they would latter become know after their code-names used during Operation Overlord in 1944. That's right today was the day I get to see the D-day landing beaches, it may not be that big a deal for some people but for me it is an attainable bucket list tick.

I started with Gold, a beach stormed by the Americans, moved on to Juno, taken by the largely uncredited and under-strength Canadians, it turns out that Canada as a country is fiercely proud of this fact and the visitors centre is staffed by French speaking Canadians whom have to fight of tough opposition to earn a 12 month contract there, it is somewhat of a dream job for Canadian college leavers it appears. I followed up with a walk along Sword beach famously captured by the Brits, the weird bit is that on the surface these stretches of sand appear no different to any other, war memorial aside and ignore the odd tank or gun placement and you could easily be on Westward Ho! Beach, Saunton sands or Widemouth bay, the crux is you know they are different, you know that with each step you cover ground on which blood was spilled in part of the largest conflict the world has ever or hopefully will ever see. There is a deserved quiet about the beaches, I'm guessing, the by now grey, skies helped set the mood but the whole area gives off an aura of respectful pride.

I didn't make it further up the coast to Utah or Omaha because there was another site I wanted to visit before the day was done, if you don't know it let me tell you the story of Merville, I'll be as brief as I can.

Before the D-day landings the allies made other attempts on the Normandy coast but met with failure, the most notable being an attack on Dieppe, Dieppe is a high-walled harbour and at the time had artillery placements, many infantry encampments and both sea and air defences, a veritable fortress worthy of such an important sea way. It was attacked head on by landing craft manned with ill fated Canadians who where engaged and several boats were sunk before they even reached the harbour, the infantry and tank support due to meet them on the shore was delayed by other defences and those who made it ashore didn't last long. Many lives were lost and many lessons were learned.

Merville served as the artillery and anti-aircraft placement to defend Sword and Juno beaches from a similar attack from the allies, a plan was hatched for the battery at Merville to be rendered useless the day before the D-day landings and 9 Para were deemed the boys to get the job done. The 9th parachute regiment formed part of the 6th airborne brigade and some 700 men were dispatched in Dakota twin prop planes (they have a Dakota at the memorial with "SNAFU squadron " on the nose and it occurred to me how many of the people that see that know what it means ?!) to drop over Caen and take the battery overnight. Unfortunately due to adverse wind and the need to avoid anti-aircraft fire the 700 men were scattered over a 40 mile radius, sadly many of them died in purposely flooded fields, drowning after being weighed done by their kit and many were captured, only 100 made it to the rendezvous point at the allotted time, the young officer in charge did what anybody would do, he waited 15 minutes. In that time another 50 men arrived.

Merville battery was heavily guarded, over 150 German soldiers were entrenched in concrete bunkers with machine guns, mortars and hidden behind steel doors and feet of concrete walls.

The Paras pressed on, determined to finish the job, they crossed razor wire perimeter fences and mine fields to take on the Germans, it was all over by 3am. Of the 150 Paras a further 75 were killed or seriously injured but of the 150 Germans only 20 remained alive to surrender. Against the odds, job done.

They say that for every life lost at Dieppe 10 were saved during the D-day landings thanks to the lessons learned and implemented in no small part by the men of 9 Para at Merville.

As I walked around the battery site and along the sandy stretches that were once battle fields it struck me that I was proud to have come here and that when people talk of these places in the future I will be proud to say then that I have been there and paid my respects.

18th of August, Giffaumont to Cormeilles.

That's a long way by the way and en route I bested both Paris and Rouen, two cities with formidable reputations for driving conditions albeit I missed out the Champs Elyesse and going round L'arc de Triomphe but hey, it was still brave/stupid either way. I covered around 350 miles today and as much as I am acclimatised to driving on the right it still takes more energy than you'd think. Basically I've set myself up for a couple of days taking in the Northern coast of France and seeing what Normandy has to offer before spending my last night in Dieppe in a 3 days time.

Today's entry is short because I'm tired.

17th of August Saint Pourcain to Giffaumont.

I had paid a price for loitering in the Limousin region for a few days just to catch a rugby game, I needed to press North if I were to have any time exploring the coastline of Normandy before my shortened tour come to an end, so that's what I did, through the Bourgogne and into Champagne country, the day bought me my first affirmation that the stereotypical French roads you see on TV do exist, arrow straight, tree lined and surrounded by rolling open fields filled with grape vines, every couple of kilometres a stall by the side of the road selling local produce.

It was very soothing country to drive through and brought to bear a couple of names that even a wine novice like my self recognised as I drove through, Burgundy, Chablis and various Champagne houses, the only slight issue was that despite all this wine to drink there didn't seem to be an abundance for the van to drink ! I was actually getting a bit worried I was going to pay the price for slow and scenic over motorways with service stations, I was eventually saved by a small Total garage on the edge of a small village just as the fuel light had come on ! I did make one slight detour from the route but it was to take a look at the motor racing circuit at Magny-cours, probably France's third circuit behind Paul Ricard and obviously Le Mans, it was rumoured to have never been liked by most of the F1 world because of its remote location but it still hosted the French grand prix throughout my childhood, from 1991 to 2008 and saw amongst other events, Prost's last win on home soil, multiple wins for both Schumachers, Frentzen and even some Brits in the shape of Coulthard, Hill and Mansell before them. During the 1960's it was the home of the French motor racing school and produced such talents as Francois Cevert whom was hand picked by reigning world champion Jackie Stewart to succeed him at Brabham, tragically Cevert died at Watkins Glen in the States before the world ever got to see even a glimmer of his potential and Steward retired then and there, mid-season, never to race in F1 again. As such a massive fan of motor sport I couldn't miss the chance to see such an iconic track.

When I arrived at Giffaumont I knew I was to parking up lake-side but not quite a lake of this scale, I am now up directly East of Paris and the famous river Seine runs into this lake and out the other side and it is massive, hence the name, Le grande lac Seine. The lake has a circumference of 20 miles and has a hard paved path all the way around it giving access to all the small "resorts" that are dotted around it as well as sailing schools, water sports centres, bird watching hides and of course the natural beauty of the place. It was now 5pm and after a day being sat down behind the wheel I though what could be better that a little bike ride, so I did the whole thing in 90 mins, not bad for a fat lad and there was a head wind the whole way (yeah I know, made no sense to me either) all I know is I should sleep well tonight, even if there is a touch of a whiff of cheese about the van still !

Oh and I saw a bridge, in Auxerre a small but very nice Brunel-esque railway bridge that had been converted for road use, lots of iron riveted together with rivets as big as your fist, great stuff (in my best James May voice).