The first travel day is a bear. The straight flight to London, then the long slough to Bristol via train and the wait for our hotel room to be ready. We took turns strolling Bristol, soaking in the picturesque river and dipping into the Cathedral. After one night in a hotel room, we first boarded the wrong train due to a cancellation and then had to navigate a cascade of ripple effect route changes to make it to the right place. Picking up the campervan was seamless then straight to the Cheddar market to pick up a few essentials and finally to Cheddar Bridge campsite where we could finally relax.
Click for photo album, “i” for descriptions
Britains of all ages show their deep appreciation for the rare treat of a sunny warm day in many ways. They drape themselves on benches with books, spread out on grassy lawns, and gather with friends on restaurant patios. Campgrounds are filled with people stretched out, faces raised to bask in the glorious sun. They’ve had several sunny days in a row now so a good number sport sunburns.
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Thinking the night would be warm, we didn’t turn on the campervan’s heat before turning in and both had a cold, sleepless night not wanting to disturb the other, whom we assumed was sleeping soundly. So much for conquering jet lag!
The next U.K. direct to Santander, Spain ferry was several days away. A camp employee told us about a friend whose camper alarm had triggered on the overnight ferry to Santander draining the battery so it had to be towed off the ferry and was impounded for a month before it could be fitted with a new battery. We opted to take the shorter Dover to Calais ferry and drive thru France. Spain would have a few more days to recover from the power failure they had suffered which caused chaos. It also meant to we had to pick a new entry point to Spain so we chose Girona.
On our second night in Cheddar we opted for a Greek restaurant and I chose the vegetarian “bifteka.” It was mashed potatoes mixed with a few peas, kernels of corn and flecks of carrots, fried into patties and served over, you guessed it, french fries. A generous estimate would be four grams of protein.
The drive to Black Horse Farm campsite in Folkestone went smoothly. We used the WiFi at the local pub to reserve a ferry for the following day. The couch up front gave us a view of the sparkling waters, but a good deal of my time was spent trying to find a campsite for the night. In and around Paris was fully booked. While Dermot drove, I got my Airalo eSIM to work (finally) and continued the search. Calls weren’t working so we just headed for a campsite that was off the beaten track and crossed our fingers.
The drive through the country was so pretty. Rolling hills of patchwork farmland were bright yellow and every shade of green from chartreuse to deep olive. We feared we’d end up in a parking lot but leafy Camping Le Bois des pêcheurs outside the village of Poix-de-Picardi rescued us and we happily ate a cold dinner cobbled together from our supermarket finds from earlier in the day. That night I made reservations for the next night stay in Camping d’Olivet outside Orleans.
You’d think a mere three hour drive would leave plenty of time to pop into Orleans and do some sight seeing before heading to the campsite but this isn’t our first European adventure so we headed to the campsite first. Roadwork detours took us down roads ranging from poor to extremely bad necessitating walking pace speed. The forecast called for thunderstorms so we chose to spend the night making do with campsite pizza and salad and move on the next day.
It’s shoulder season so many campgrounds aren’t open yet. Finding a place about four hours driving away further restricted our choices. "Cosy Camp" was open but on arrival it was more dirty than cosy. We found the nearby Camping le Galier and spent one soggy night there after carefully selecting the site we hoped was least likely to flood or require a tow out of. We’d have stayed another day here to hike if the weather had cooperated.
General Observations of Spain:
People are friendly here in Catalonia where both Catalan and Spanish are the co-official languages. We noticed many also speak French. There are a lot of French tourists and locals usually greet us in French assuming we’re the same. I’m pretty sure the French would be mortified. Driving here is a bit more chaotic than in France and things look a bit rougher around the edges.
You really know you’re in Spain when the grocery stores have a literal wall of pernils - hams. These aren’t your garden variety ham, they have raised the curing process to an art form and the prices reflect it. At one grocery store the counter that displayed them was brightly lit and so sharply appointed it almost looked like a jewelry case.
Cadaques
Driving through the Aveyron region was mountainous and lovely. Our email to a campsite in the Cadaqués went unanswered so we just took a chance. The last stretch was through a narrow, winding mountainous road with beautiful vistas steeply down to valleys or the sea. Then our van dashboard started flashing a red oil can along with a wrench and we suddenly realized we hadn’t seen any exits. We drove straight to a gas station that thankfully had oil and we added a quart but that didn’t fix it.
We arrived at weCamp in Cadaques and were extremely happy they had space. The next morning we took a stroll under cloudy skies around the town which has a nice beach area, a casino and interesting history. We had a delicious lunch and then prepared for our tour of Salvador and Gala Dali’s house and gardens which the campsite staff had arranged. I’m so glad we visited but it would take forever to describe all the surreal details and photos can’t convey the experience. I loved the gardens with the many outdoor “rooms.” The penis-shaped pool and must have been the place for parties.
The interior rooms were also full of oddities in nearly every corner of the house. When Gala, his love, model and muse died, Dali left the house never to return leaving two unfinished paintings on their easels.
Figueres
We were too nervous about the van’s warning lights to hazard going further out to Far del Cap de Creus so we headed inland and scheduled service on the van. That night while at Camping Esponella, we were told an oil change had been completed before we left and our contact figured the garage had just forgotten to reset the service indicator on it. Reassured, we toured the Dali Theatre-Museum in Figueres instead.
If you’re a fan of his work, this is like surrealist heaven. Dali was fully involved in the design of the entire museum for decades. His crypt is even here. We really enjoyed it. In most museums, people often have looks of concentration, deep thought, or appreciation. Here, many wandered with smiles lighting up their faces. I believe Dali would be delighted with that legacy.
Girona
This area checks so many boxes: prehistoric archeological sites, roman architecture, Arab Baths and an old town with defensive walls you can actually walk on. We were lucky to arrive on the day before their annual festival of flowers. The city was literally being festooned with blossoms and artistic displays. We often happened onto workers installing sculptures and a wide variety of potted grasses, loose greenery and flowers all throughout the city.
Our Lonely Planet guide walk took us to many points of interest that, unfortunately, were closed - probably for preparation. We had a wonderful lunch in the old town and when the rain really started in earnest, we popped into the Museu d’Archeologia de Catalunya which is housed in the Monestir de Sant Pere de Galligants which we can’t recommend because of the lack of English descriptions and non-working apps.
The following day we were excited to go to the Parc Neolithic de la Draga which was one of the many prehistoric sites we’d learned about at the museum and very close near our campground but it was also closed so we just took a photo through the fence.
Next: Heading west.
