Marking Time

Well, here I am back in Ireland, safe and sound. The drive from Madrid went smoother than I could ever have imagined. Even the ferry sailing was a dream, the sea was as calm as a lake, and the atmosphere on board was very pleasant. The staff at Irish Ferries seem to enjoy their work and it showed.

We left Madrid for Burgos on Sunday morning and stayed in the campsite there for one night. There was a festival on, with marching bands and stalls, and the weather was a little cooler than Madrid. Next day we stopped in Vitoria, the Basque capital, before moving on to San Sebastian where we decided to spend 2 nights. San Sebastian is beautifully situated on a bay surrounded by too steep hills. We dipped in the sea and then walked up one of the mountains to an old Napoleonic fort, from which we got a great view of the city.

On Wednesday we crossed the (nonexistent) border into France. The change on entering France was very striking. There was a sense that we had left the craziness behind us. The people were quieter, the traffic more sedate, and even the landscape was more relaxed, the mountains and harsh plains of Spain replaced by flat gentle woodlands. The driving got a little boring, endless motorway without a twist, a rise, or a fall, constantly flanked by the same trees and bushes.

We spent our first night in France at the campsite at Arcachon, near Bordeaux. On the way there we saw the largest sandune in Europe. It’s over 100m high. Arcachon itself is a small seaside town with little tourist development. The campsite is set in a wood and is very nice. Nearby were dozens of large nineteenth century villas, each one more mysterious and creepy than the last. Most of them seemed unoccupied but they all had something from the Addams Family or the Rocky Horror Show about them - the classic haunted house look.

The next day we passed through Bordeaux where we bought some wine and then headed for the campsite in La Rochelle. There we ate in a lovely organic restaurant.

The following day we headed for Carnac where we stayed in a four-star campsite, complete with outdoor heated swimming pools, slides, jacuzzis, and pony rides. It was full of Irish families, more like a holiday resort than a campsite. Carnac itself is nice, the menhirs (standing stones) are interesting to read about but not much of a spectacle. The beachfront is nice although a little too close to the Irish experience for my liking.

From there we went to San Malo where we spent our final night camping in a site on a hill overlooking the walled town. The next morning it rained so we were lucky that it was over final night. Camping in the rain is a real pain especially if you are packing and unpacking on a daily basis.

Final night we spent in the luxury of a hotel in Cherbourg - stopping off at rainy Mont St.Michel on the way - before taking the crossing to Rosslare the next day.

So that’s the boring itinerary noted for posterity, it was a lot more interesting than might appear from my quick recap - of course these things are always more interesting when experienced rather than described.

Overall it was a great experience. Before I set out I thought it would be more of an ordeal but it turned out to be really relaxing holiday.

Mark Waters marked time at 8:05 pm on July 12th, 2004 .

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