As much as we enjoy our time in Bradford on Avon we must drag ourselves away, therefore we head South West to the bottom of England and find ourselves at St Ives.


We have realised now that the smaller car is of much more use here as the roads are becoming much narrower and passing places are becoming much more obscure. the Coast line here is a visual dream and we encounter our first surf beaches since leaving Australia, not that we could use them as it is absoloutely chucking it down. Between showers we manage some great hikes through the country side and wander into some beautiful little fishing villages.


We drive down to Lands End which is the very bottom of England and back along the coast through som almost unnavigable villages like Mouse Hole (that is apparently pronounced MOWZULE and if you mis pronounce it as Mousehole the locals correct you saying
IT'S MOWZULE ARZULE
any way Mouse Hole is a beautiful village and well worth the trip but go on a quiet day as the weekends are supposedly chaotic.


From St Ives we venture back to the Cornwall/ Devon border and check in with Brian and Edna at Deer Park Cottage just outside Callington, it was extremely pleasant here and we enjoyed a wonderful week as the Clatworthy Family whom we met at La Roquecombe in France showed us some of the fantastic sites around the area and took us into there home to show us that the English do have showers and do use them, ( No they did not shower in front of us we just heard it running so we still can't be 100% sure but I did beleive them.

It was here at a place called Cotehele that we decided to join the National Trust.

Now this is my recomendation for anyone travelling to the UK as we have exhausted our membership visiting many Castles, Manors and Gardens and quite often you can gain free parking at sites, Parking is the biggest frustration in the UK and it is very rare if you can find it free.

We thoroughly enjoyed our week with the Clatworthy's sharing many meals and look forward to there promised trip to Kyabram in 2012.

Returning to Bradford on Avon after Devon we are elated that Anthony is going to fire his pottery in his home made medieval kiln which is fired by wood.
we spend the evening finishing off the packing before bricking it up and daubing up ay holes or cracks.


Next morning we prepare the fire wood which is no mean feat as Anthony and Moira live up a very narrow alley, Anthony has already collected the wood and got it this far now we need to get some of it through his front gate, into his kitchen up some more steps and another narrow path into the back garden where the kiln is, this is when I realise just what a task it must have been for Anthony to carry all of his kiln brick by brick from its previous home in a nearby paddock to it's present home.
The job ahead entais us poking tiny peices of timber into a hole the size of a shoe box until the inside of the kiln reaches a temperatue of 1050 deg, so we are to be here for the better part of the day and evening. As luck would have it we encounter our best weather in the UK so far and have a marvelous day stoking the fire as various friends and Family of Anthony and Moira drop by to share the experience.
Leaving the kiln behind to cool for 3 days before Anthony can open it and find out the results of what we are presuming was a good firing, we head north through Wales and up to the Lakes District.Although the weather soured again we still enjoyed a week in the Lakes District and had some wonderful walks, especially Alcock Tarn beside Grasmere which commanded spectacular views.


We enjoyed a wonderful afternoon at Lake Coniston, takin a cruise on a steam Gondola and enjoying some tea beside the Lake although Debbie decided she would not take sugar in her coffee today, (not for health reasons, because a gull crapped into the sugar bowl ughhh)


Weather has been a small inconvenience so we figure it could'nt be any worse in Scotland and we head further North.

Scotland, better weather who was I trying to fool, we did encounter some sunshine but the wind made up for the lack of rain to ensure we had no chance to improve on our fast fading European tans.
Mind you Scotland is a fantastic and fabulous destination in any weather.
The scenery was breathtaking and we were fortunate to have enough good days to do some walking and treking, the best day was when we climbed Old Man of Storr on the Isle of Skye/


From the Isle of Skye we headed further north to the very top of Scotland, resulting in us reaching both extremes of the UK mainland. Lands End to John O Groates.
















Cointha Daniel and Bruce at John O Groates.

Across the top of Scotland and back down visiting Durness, Ullapool (award winning best fish and chip shop 2008) Edinburgh and back back into England for a beautiful drive through some marvelous countryside through the Cotswolds and Back to Bradford on Avon.









All of us outside Hardwick Hall

Well I thought it would be a nice drive but old mate in the unmarked black convertible BMW police car was not very amused when I overtook a tractor travelling at about 25 kms per hour.


Apparently I moved too quick and pulled out about 2 meters before the broken white lines started.


The very over animated officer dutifully informed me that in this country it is a jailable offence to cross an unbroken line and as I was a foreigner he could not fine me and that I should be arrested.


I informed him that if I were in Italy I would have been arrested if I had not overtaken the tractor regardless of what linesw were on the road or what traffic was oncoming as I would have been menacing the line of trafffic behind us.





I didnt really, although I knew he was not about to arrest me as he did not look as though he had time too waste on all the paperwork and it would impede him from his main program for the day. colecting revenue!!!





So I took his caution on the chin and wished him a happy day and returned to the car for the the earbashing that was iminent, maybe I should have taken the arrest option.



Time is winding down as we near the end of our adventure, Despite some poor weather we have enjoyed the United Kingdom and again met some wonderful people. There is not much left on the wish list now and London will be the big finale if I can stay out of jail.

After 5 weeks of unstable weather we arrive in Holland at Nederweeert, the Home of Hans, Bep, Daniek and Myron whom we met at Lake Garda. Who would of guessed we would get such warm weather in Holland, we sat in there beautiful garden enjoying the sunshine and great company, we were invited to stay for a Barbeque and had such a wonderful day that we completely lost track of time as you do in Northern Europe because it stays light until 10pm, anyway we left Nederweert and pushed on towards Eindhoven, after several attempts we struggled to find a motel with family rooms and ended up at the Holiday Inn Eindhoven, Travellers tip if you are ever in Holland avoid this place, I was duped by the concierge who neglected to tell me about taxes and overnight parking fees on top of the excessive room rate for the worst nights sleep I have had on this trip, there was extra charges for everything and no tea or coffee facilities in room so Holiday Inn has been completely scrubbed of my list of destinations in future.Next day found us back at Thomas, Cointha, Joris and Sarahs home near Egmond where we had a fantastic time as they showed us some of Holland. We visited the Afsluitdijk and some pretty towns kolhorn and Makkum in Friesland. It was great to have some guides who could explain first hand exactly how the dikes work and what they have managed to achieve since building the Afsluitdijk. We then caught up with Frans, Astrid and their new baby girl Deborah. As the weather was much warmer here than it was in February Astrid was able to show us Egmond aan Zee and we were able to enjoy the beach. Astrid was able to gain us entry into the light house and we were treated to some local cuisine as they were having a marine festival and the local fishermen were cooking there catch of that day in the streets and serving fresh cooked fish, mmmmm delightful.We spent another great day in Amsterdam visiting the Van Gogh museum and the Anne Frank Attic, no prizes for guessing who shed a tear there.Our week in Holland also coincided with the European Cup (soccer) and every square millimeter seemed to have been decked out in orange. Football fever was in the air and you could not see a newspaper or tv without seeing the Dutch team especially as they had beaten France and Italy two of the favourites so we were caught up in it all and spent a couple of nights cheering on the Dutch with Thomas and his family. On Fridays in Alkmaar a few kilometers from Egmond they have a special cheese market where they recreate what is called the rolling out of the cheese. These guys in traditional dress carrying special sleds with around 100 kilos of cheese put on a marvelous display.The facial expressions created by these guys as they try to smile for the crowds while lugging these sleds about 50 meters is quite amusing.When we returned toFrans and Astrids house some of their Family arrived an we had a pleasant evening learning more about Dutch life, I was also treated to a Holland Drum hat which was bought out by Heinekin for the football, I am told that I look quite hilarious in the hat as I did my cheese carter impersonation but thankfully no photos were taken of that.

Newlywed being carted by the cheese carters

We spent Sunday at the christening of Deborah and had a wonderful time afterwards in Frans and Astrids backyard meeting their Family and friends.

Proud Grandparents

Frans got out his Western Bulldogs football that I gave him when he was in Kyabram last year, we pumped it up and Daniel and I showed the Dutch kids how to kick, handball and bounce it. They all looked at us as if we were stupid when we told them to bounce an oval ball, but they all tried and had a fantastic time.After some sad goodbyes we farewelled our Dutch friends with the realisation of the fact that it will be a really long time if ever we get to see these wonderful people again.

Ligthart and Walkeden Families

The end of The Netherlands coincided with the end of Europe as we drove back to France that afternoon and boarded the ferry at Calais next morning, an hour and a bit later and our European adventure has ended, now our UK adventure begins. We arrive at Dover and proceed to the foyer of the ferry terminal. I have booked a car with 1CAR1 but unfortunately they do not have a kiosk at the terminal and the booking receipt I got from the internet did not come with their phone number, so after quizzing the other rental car suppliers I managed to contact them and they delivered the car to us. Now we have downsized cars here but I thought the car was going to be a little bit bigger than the one they delivered, we could not

all fit into the car so I had to leave the family at the terminal while I returned the delivery driver to his depot and filled out the paperwork, this might seem like a lot of trouble to go to but the price comparison with hiring a car with the ones based in the terminal was huge, it was 16 pounds a day cheaper with this company, that’s about $35.00 a day over 33 days is going to buy me a few good bottles of wine so sometimes the little bit of inconvenience is well worth it.My return to pick up the family snapped me back into truckie mode as I juggled and squeezed the 4 of us, suitcases, bedding and backpacks into the Vauxhall Corsa. We made a bee line for Anthony and Moiras where we are going to reevaluate and repack what we need for the continuation of our trip.We are very fortunate to have befriended Anthony and Moira who are the most fascinating people I know. Their insight into British life, art and History is invaluable and we could not have asked for a better experience for our children to learn from.On our previous visit in January they experienced pottery by Anthony and painted some water colours with Moira and now we are down by the Avon River in Anthony’s Coracle.A Coracle is a medieval boat that was used in small streams and the moats around castles, Anthony handmade the Coracle as he does with most things, he is a recreationist and makes things in traditional ways, even his pottery is fired in a wood fired kiln which he has made himself and which we hope to fire on a later visit. Getting back to the Coracle, we had the most fantastic evening on The Avon paddling this weird looking boat around.I do not think he realises the local pride he has achieved but I overheard many locals praising the work he has put into the coracle.Carting the Coracle to the river was interesting in itself, as Anthony and Moira live up a skinny little lane that is hard enough to get a suitcase or your groceries through.We manage to get it to the street then I had to climb between a strap and the seat and carry the coracle down to the River with the coracle on my back making me look like a mutant ninja turtle. As I crossed the pedestrian crossing towards the bank I the children just laughed at the stares we were creating, fortunately I am not a shy person as some of you may have gathered by now.

Searching the Internet we stumbled across a delightful villa in the Dordogne Valley at La Roque-Gageac called Roquecombe, we chose this area as we had read a biography that was written by an English woman who had bought a vineyard nearby and spent many years establishing it. Books are a great inspiration when traveling and The Ripening Sun lived up to its reputation giving us a great focal point to explore is fabulous setting, The Dordogne.

La Roque- Gageac at night

We thought it was a tourist information exaggeration when we read that there were around 1400 chateaus dotted around the landscape but we soon discovered that it was no exaggeration and would be quite a challenge if you wanted to count just the ones we could see from the roads.

Daniel on the wall at Biron Chateau

It is also the home to many Prehistoric sites and caves with the Moustier cave men (dating back 55000 years) being found nearby. This encouraged us to visit The Roque Saint Christophe, a cave village set 300ft in the cliffs overlooking the Vezere river, these caves have been home to many ancient civilizations from Moustier men 400000 years ago, the Neolithic generations 2600 years BC, it was really interesting to see remnants from so many civilizations in one place.

La Roque St Christophe








Our accommodation at Roquecombe was more than we ever expected and our delightful hosts, Philippe and Anne Marie ensured a pleasant stay.
On Sunday evening our hosts invited us to aperitifs to meet the other guests staying at the other cottages/Gites
Cointha and Daniel were pleased to find out that there was another Australian family an English family and an older Australian couple vacationing in the other units.
Cointha and Daniel had a wonderful time being able to communicate with some other children for a change, and Daniel was enthralled by the football skills (soccer) of the English lad Jamie.
Jamie who is about 13 had us amused as we discovered another involuntary language error
When our poor host Ann Marie who does not have a very good command of English approached him to offer some aperitif in the form of Coca Cola or Orange juice.
On her first attempt she asked Jamie,
Anne Marie: Jamie would you like some drink Cola Juice?
Jamie: Im fine
Anne Marie: Imfine ???? you would like cola? Juice?
Jamie: Im fine thanks
Anne Marie: Imfine ? what is imfine?
Jamie: doesn’t matter
Anne Marie: doesn’t matter ? you want some drink?
Jamie: Im ok
By now poor Anne Marie is bamboozled, she was not prepared for these responses, when offering drinks she was thinking yes/no responses would be easy to understand and as I see her standing there with that same blank look I must have shown on my face a thousand times on this trip. I realise how much we vandalise our language which is fine in Australia as people will generally get the gist of the conversation but to a foreigner, well it explains a lot about the funny terms that I would hear from the Greek, Italian and Turkish immigrants when I was a kid.
THE Dordogne is also famous for its Foie Gras,
A goose liver Pate made special by the fact that the goose was force fed via a long tube stuffed down its neck which supposedly makes the pate taste better. I have eaten lots of nice pates in my life, I see no benefit in me buying pate that has needlessly been produced in this (what I believe to be) cruel way for the sake of my taste buds.
Well we had a wonderful week here and had many good chats down by the pool catching up on all the news we have missed out on while away and swapping travel stories with the other guests.
Roquecombe was a fantastic place to stay and we were treated to a few extras we had not bargained for, meeting some great people, seeing quite a few wild deer in the woods, great day trips to Rocamador, Monpazier, Sarlat and Dom, hot air balloons skimming the trees behind our villa, two great hosts and a king size bed which was unbelievable considering the size of the bed in the motor home.


We returned this week to visit Sheena, Patrick and the gang just outside Lyon and off loaded some stuff Sheena had loaned us during our earlier visit. It was great to catch up again and let the kids have some more French family interaction. Travel can really open your eyes culturally but spending some time with a French family is a wonderful experience that we will all remember for a long time. Sheena and Patrick again made us feel at home and when possible ensured that we had the everyday meals that her family eats.
On the Sunday they had a prior engagement so we headed into Lyon to inspect the produce market and take in a few sights.
You would think that Bruce would have learnt a lesson in Sicily and been very wary about Deb ordering food and drinks in a foreign Language. (I forgot to put this story on the blog then so I will tell it now) While I went off to get some photos developed Deb went to order 3 slices of Pizza and a coffee for her and the kids, when I return there is 1 slice of pizza and 3 espressos (tiny over the top full on shots of coffee). This theme has run its course several times and now we have Lyon to add to the list.
2 bowls of soup de jour please. Deb was so confident that she had got this right as she proudly proclaims, there is not a soup I do not like. Now 2 bowls of soup of the day can be absolutely anything in France and Debs confidence in her choice was completely shattered as the waiter placed the soup in front of us.
2 giant best value for money possible all you can eat bowls of pure beetroot soup----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ice cold complete with ice cubes.
I am told that this is quite a common dish in Poland but that interesting fact is not enough comfort for me to stomach my way though 2 gallons of near frozen purple soup.

No doggy bag thanks

We look at each other and smile and the kids just burst out laughing, I suggest to Daniel that this could be a Mr. Bean moment and that he could pass the ladies handbag from behind him and we can dispose of it there. I don’t know what the other diners must have thought as we sat there joking and laughing yet not eating.
Deb and I pushed the soup in front of the kids and I ordered some tartine which was delicious and was some consolation.
We spent a couple of wonderful days with Sheena’s gang and were treated to a lunch at Les 3 Canards restaurant where Patrick was installing a pool and doing some landscaping. Patrick ordered snails and we were all initiated into the French escargot club.

Cointha about to chew up a snail










After a sad goodbye with Sheena we drove to the outskirts of Paris and boarded a train for Gare de Lyon and then off to the Louvre to view the Mona Lisa, Venus De Milo and the thousands of other art treasures and antiques. No sorry Dan Brown fans we did not do a Davinci code tour. We spent 5 hours wandering the Louvre which was great but a little bit of overload for an 8 year old boy. Catching the metro we set off for Monte Marte where Daniel was treated to more near naked ladies outside the Moulin Rouge, he has definitely had his eyes opened on this trip and we have had a few awkward moments figuring out how to explain a few sights to him.
Back to Gare De Lyon train station, home of Le Train Bleu which was the setting for the Mr Beans Holiday restaurant scene. Like Florian’s in Venice this is a beautiful restaurant but totally unaffordable for mere mortals like us.


La Train Bleu

After 6 months on the road being bamboozled by art, culture, isolation from other children and having to put up with their parents 24/7, Cointha and Daniel finally get their pay off. We are off to Disneyland Paris, so we load up the wallet and fill the back pack with food. Disney Paris is huge and after parking it is a ten minute walk just to get to the gate and half of that was on moving walkways. As we approach the gate we view wonderful floral arrangements shaped in Disney characters and the Disney castle can be seen inside the gate.

Mickey made of flowers

I turn to look at the kids faces to see how excited they are and am very surprised that the most excited was Deb.

Deb all weak at the knees

The funny thing is that children today have not had the same exposure to Disneyland that we had while growing up, sitting down after tea on Sunday nights to watch Mickey, Goofy, Herbie the love bug or Jiminy Cricket. So Deb was quite affected by the whole atmosphere as we walked through the turnstile.

1 day was just enough to do all we needed at Disney, fortunately the weather was not too good which kept the crowds down and the longest we waited for a ride was 45 minutes, although some rides had 1 hour waiting times, they have a special deal there, you can go to both parks in the same day for an extra 10 Euros each, we could not do everything in 1 park on a quiet day so I can’t imagine trying to do 2 parks in 1 day.
The entertainment was great and the Tarzan show quite spectacular as the performers mixed dancing with trampolining and trapeze.
Well that is nearly all for France as we now head for The Netherlands again to visit friends and attend the Baptism of Little Deborah born in April.

The public holiday is over and I have managed to find a hire car so I return to the village to find a mechanic, with a lot of strained linguistics’ we arrange to have the van towed to his shop during siesta so I return to the campground to organise our week.
Little did I know just what was in store for me, we had prepared for the worst, or at least we thought we had.
Around 4000 Euro was more than we were prepared to spend on a 20 year old van so we weighed up the options, all 1 of them as towing it back to England was also to expensive, so I began to source a new home for the van.
As it was an English van nobody wanted it apart from the motor wreckers, though he would not touch it without the appropriate paperwork which was still sitting in England due to our hasty departure.
A quick phone call to Moira in Bradford on Avon where we had the vehicle addressed to see if the paperwork was there and to pick her brains for any advice she may have regarding vehicle disposal.
The ever reliable Moira came shining through and was able to post us everything we needed, Thanks Moira you are a gem.
We spent a day with Maddy and Curl in Avignon while we were waiting for the documents to arrive, it was great to return to some sight seeing and allow Maddy and Curl to display local sights and indulge in some native cuisine.
Next day was back to reality and the motor wreckers to negotiate the disposal and towing, fortunately he was prepared to cop the towing charge and by Monday morning we had stripped whatever we could give away to a good home and waved goodbye to our home of the last 4 and a half months as she left for her new home.
A wonderful German family camped next to us became the new home for my trusty bike, I tried to give them the bike but they insisted on paying for it which was very generous as I do not think he really needed it, I tried to return the money but he was so insistent that all I could do was promise to treat the children with it, so Thank you Martin, Christina you are very kind.
Tuesday mornings task was to return the Toyota Yaris to SIXT a cheap hire car company in Europe, I would have hired another car from them but I need to drop a car at Calais and pick up another in Dover in the middle of June, but unfortunately they do not have offices in those locations. So Daniels fold up bike is put into the boot of the Yaris as it is 5 kilometers to the Europcar office from SIXT office. Has anyone seen the MR Bean movie where he is riding a bike through the French countryside in pursuit of a bus ticket stuck to the bottom of a chooks foot? Well this is how I felt as I rode this tiny bike with the oncoming traffic flashing lights, truck drivers blowing horns, workers in the fields that were tying the lats on the grape vines stopping work and staring and construction workers whistling and cheering as I pedaled past like some escaped loony fleeing the asylum.
So ends a huge chapter in our journey/adventure and the next chapter begins.
We now need to rearrange our plans slightly obviously so we have scoured the internet and found some reasonable accommodation, relatively cheap car hire and are able to research more options that suit our new mode of transport.
We have come across a self contained unit in the Dordogne valley just outside La Roque Gageac that we will be using for a week after we visit Perpignan.
We aim for Perpignan to deliver a quilt for a friend of Debbie to a family whose Daughter was an exchange student in Kyabram last year, after finding a bungalow we deliver the quilt and have 4 wonderful days touring roads the motorhome would not have survived even if it was brand new.
Driving around the Pyrenees is nothing short of spectacular.
We took a day trip into Spain to visit the towns of Cadeques and Rupit.








Rupit was like walking into a medieval fairy tale.
The moment we crossed the suspension bridge we
knew we were in for a treat as we marveled in the
architecture of the buildings clinging to the cliff faces
leaning, groaning and fighting against gravity to continue
their life where they were built.













On the way back to Perpignan we were treated to some amazing scenery
as we travelled along a mountain ridge Alp La Molina at 1800 meters above
sea level looking down at the clouds as they rained on the villages in the gorges
and valleys below.

We spent another day visiting the medieval town of Carcassone
which is one of the most Fascinating walled cities we have visited
with turrets and towers on every bend in the wall making it the
most interesting for the kids as it is the most castle like structure
we have seen so far. Decided to return via a different route
through the picturesque gorges towards the Route de Vignes
where the grape vines decorate the roadside in beautiful shades
of green and gold.


Cointha in between
the defensive
outer and inner walls
at Carcassone



I must say that we could have spent a lot longer
here and if not for the fact we have pre booked
accommodation we would have.
After checking out of Perpignon we are take the
long road to La Roqucombe Gageac to visit and
cross the Milau Viaduct the worlds highest bridge.
It is an amazing piece of engineering and we
watched a video on the construction at the visitors
centre explaining how they managed to put this
giant jigsaw puzzle together.







Milau Viaduct

The drive from Milau to La Roque Gageac was superb and and we could not have dreamed that we would see so many Chateaus in 1 day so look out for our next update and some great photos.

Back to France

The gear box is working well and we hit the road again this time more relaxed and with great tans, taking no chances we stop every 40 minutes and check the vehicle over trying to reestablish some confidence.
So far so good and we are pacified by the motorhomes performance. Debbie and Daniel are taking notes on the length of the tunnels we zip through. At last count we had gone through 74 tunnels before the French border measuring a total of around 30 kilometers underground. Daniel was very disappointed that they did not join the tunnels together to make just a few really long ones; this disappointment was certainly not shared with his mother who preferred it when they were less than 1 kilometer long. 2800 metres was the longest we passed through and she was glad we were not traveling the northern roads which have some much longer tunnels.
As we reached the French border, I think we were expecting a sense of familiarity having been here recently and survived the language difficulties, how wrong was I.
With all my French lessons and practice I was surprised that spending 2 and a half months in Italy greeting people in Italian, Dutch and German had confused my linguistic comprehension. Bon Journo, Gooten Morgen, bonjour, merci danke, gracie Now I don’t know if I am Arthur, Martha, Aldo Maria, Helga or Fritz. Back to square 1 on the language and hopefully my English wont suffer as well. The biggest problem with coming to France hoping to improve your French, is that most of the people you meet want to practice their English. I may have to pretend I am Chinese in future and dupe them into speaking French so I can improve my language skills.
We pull into a roadhouse over the French border and as I try to reverse out of the parking bay I can not find reverse gear, a bit of mumbling under my breath and jiggling the van forwards and it slips in and I am thinking this can’t be good. My mind races back to the roads and places where we have found ourselves in difficulty and have had to back our way out. I start imagining us wedged down in a tiny street in a village where we need to reverse but can’t causing a gridlock. Well we are safe while we are on the motorway so I push the van towards Cannes and plan a stop near a larger town to find the tools or a mechanic to make the necessary adjustment. We pull into a roadhouse just near Frejus and I find a place where I won’t need reverse, but wouldn’t you know it reverse is working again we decide to camp the night anyway, as I am about to shutdown the engine the battery light comes on, I’ve had a big day we will sort it out in the morning.
Deb brings me a coffee while my head is under the bonnet and asks do you think we will make it to Avignon before lunch, I reach into the engine bay and pull out the main pulley off the cam and say Maybe not quite lunch, poor Deb looked devastated, as we had not much food with us I unhooked the trusty bicycle and started on a new adventure.
1: Food
2: Mechanic
3: Cash from the bank.
Fortunately it was a good roadhouse with clean toilets a restaurant, park and playground for the kids.
The GPS put me 3 kilometers from a supermarket, but as we were on a toll road I had to find a way to a road first as it is highly illegal to ride bicycles on motorways, I found the special gate that the roadhouse employees use and set off, I managed the fist 2 hills fine and was traveling well I reached a village that had 2 supermarkets, auto wreckers lots of auto services, 3 motor home sales yards and 2 cheap motels, well you may think this is great unfortunately we have stumbled into another public holiday and everything is closed. I start at the motel and check there availability as I really don’t wish to leave my family stranded at a roadhouse good.
I push back towards the roadhouse, I need to go 3 kilometers in the opposite direction to the way I have travelled, about 2 kilometers past the roadhouse turn off I see a camping sign and decide that I will enquire about a bungalow When you are in a car and see a sign that says camping 300 meters and you turn then see another sign that says 400 meters you don’t mind so much but let me tell you this can be very inconvenient for a cyclist.
Now the signs just disappear and 2 kilometers later I am stopping and asking locals who have no idea where the campground is, so I back track and start heading for the supermarket that may be or may not be open, by this stage I have travelled 10 kilometers already and have marked nothing off my list. As I approach Puget Sur Argens I see another camping sign but I decide to ignore it and get back to my task, I ride through the industrial area and am heartened to find every manner of car dealership and spare parts dealer available, only they are closed for the public holiday, I reach the main road and turn towards Frejus, as I have not had breakfast yet I am drawn to (as much as I hate to say it) the big yellow M that is about a mile down the road as I know they would not close for a public holiday. I was right and as luck would have it there was a giant shopping centre beside it which was also open so Maccas was bypassed and I wandered in to discover that every one else in the district had found that this was the only place to buy groceries today.
If I had wanted to buy clothing or an evening dress this would not have been a problem as it seems that fashion stores allowed to open on Sundays and public holidays, but I feel had I returned to the van with no food in new evening dress Deb might not have been very impressed.
I gather enough food to see us through the day and stand in the huge line at the checkout, when finally I push my fruit and the girl asks me where the fruit barcode is. This is a problem in Europe that at a lot of supermarkets you have to weigh your own fruit and print stickers for it, so back I go and weigh my fruit then back to stand in a huge line again, I won’t fall for that trick again, not until next time anyway.
Loaded up with about 12 kilograms of groceries I set off up the hill back towards the roadhouse which is about 4 kilometers away now, I reach a fork in the road where again I find a camping sign which seems to be much clearer, 300 meters it reads and is towards the route I am taking, I follow the signs and they lead me down a hill which I am hoping will bring me on a route to the van otherwise I will have to climb it again. After another 1200 meters the road begins to rise again and I am starting to doubt my wisdom now that I am carrying all this extra weight. Finally reaching the campground I wonder how far I am going to have to back track to get back on the route to the van.
The girl on reception was able to give me some good advice but looked very blank when I tried to extract a shortcut out of her for my return journey. I rode back to the front gate and viewed the GPS, the major decision now is do I gamble and go cross country to reach my destination about 500 meters away or do I backtrack about 5 kilometers away.
I settle for cross country and ride down a road not marked on the GPS and 300 meters later I am back at the van and my legs give a great sigh of relief.
Packing up the family and enough provisions to last the night we wander like gypsies through the car park of the roadhouse with bags and cases and stroll to the campground, where a hot shower is waiting and we settle in beside the pool to enjoy the public holiday with the rest of France.

Sunset at Camping La Quercia Lake Garda Northern Italy




Our motor home being a Fiat which is an Italian car was the motive for us to have the van serviced in Italy, our major problem now is translation or to find a service agent that can converse with us.
We appear at the gate of Camping La Quercia in Lazise on the shores of Lake Garda in northern Italy and are immediately greeted by a fervent attendant named Dennis who comprehends sufficient English and ushers me into the office and introduces me to Claudia who has a great command of English.
Claudia assures me that in the morning we will find a service agent and so begins our holiday from our holiday.

What have we stumbled into were our thoughts when we arrived at Camping La Quercia, the staff were so friendly talking to us as if we were locals and accommodating our needs and requests for translation with the motor mechanic. Tina who speaks better English than me was so obliging and kind and organised a bungalow for us while the van has a bit of work done to it.

www.laquercia.it

Village of Lazise Lake Garda

Unfortunately the gear box problem has turned out to be a bit trickier than anticipated as the gearboxes in the English vans are about face to the European version as they are right hand drive so the part is not readily available so poor us will have to spend a week or two sitting by the pool overlooking the lake with the stunning mountains in the background, canoeing, archery, tennis, swimming, walking I only hope we get time for some rest, then Claudia comes out and tells me if we go to Movie land ( like Movie World on the Gold Coast )on Saturday they have free entry for their birthday.
Camping La Quercia are also celebrating their 50th birthday so on the Saturday they had a free Luna park with lots of give aways for the kids followed by a wonderful fireworks display. Daniel made friends with a young Italian boy named Daniele, who spoke no English so it was interesting to see them playing and talking as if they understood each other.
Our first week at La Quercia saw us sharing the facilities with a lot of German people and we were inundated with Italians on the weekend, on the Sunday the Italians disappeared and we were swamped with Dutch families taking advantage of some public holidays in The Netherlands.
Skin cancer it would seem is no threat to the fair skinned Northern Europeans as the swimming pools were aglow with sunburnt faces and bodies as far as the eye could see. Don’t get me wrong we did see the odd hat on a head but not a single rashie.

After such a hectic schedule it has been good to take stock and relax by the pool while catching up with ourselves, it has given us time to reflect back on our trip so far and to discover how much of it the children have absorbed.
We have also had time to build up some friendships with other tourists and the staff, during this time, we have had some long discussions on their lifestyles while trying to enlighten the Europeans into the Australian ethos. Some are very surprised that our lives are not so different. I have again found that supermarkets are one of the most fascinating places to visit when looking for some insight into the local society, although a lot of the bigger supermarkets are now very similar to ours the way food is purchased can be very different.
The Europeans seem to be more conscious when it comes to the environment and recycling of our rubbish is requested everywhere we stay and the bins are always separated into glass, paper and organic, I have even seen bins for bread only.
But then on the other hand they can be quite wasteful as a lot of products are individually wrapped, even though a lot of these products like cakes, bread and croissants have long use by dates, I have a loaf of Pane Intergrale Bauletto (brown grain bread) at the moment that does not expire until 9th July 2008, I don’t know how long it has been at the supermarket but with 2 months to go I can savour it until we reach England again. It is not the way we would normally buy bread, but we have found the only fresh bread in Italy is the big hard crusty white loaves which taste wonderful but you don’t feel that it’s doing your body any favours. I think the European trick is to consume lot’s of red wine to wash the bread through so I am going to consume more wine from hear on, for medicinal purposes only of course.

Thanks to some well timed public holidays our car part has been held up in the mail, The wonderful staff at La Quercia are now treating us like locals and are starting to say g,day to us aswell as other guests instead of Bon Journo, The Animation staff have made us regulars calling us on stage at will and sometimes putting us into embarrassing positions.
I am trying to convince Deb that some of this video needs to be put onto the blog so bear with us until I convince her and keep an eye out.
We even had 1 night where they were a few actors down and we had to rehearse and perform for them, doing a few skits.

Family Walkeden taking an encore with Animation Maestro Max (Massimiliano)

We had a wonderful Dutch family move in next door, Hans, Bep, Daniek and Myron, Hans took pity on me when he saw me arrive home with a huge bag of groceries (about 15 kilograms) which I had carted about 9kms up and down hills.
He kindly offered to drive me to the supermarket next time, to my amazement the supermarket was only 2kms away, compared to the one I was riding to and was much better and cheaper, especially as I would need to eat half the groceries after the 18km round trip. The best thing about this was that I was now able to purchase more fruit veg and beer, as I was very minimal with such heavy products for some unknown reason.

The Mechanics have worked all day Saturday to fix the van and we will be able to leave Sunday, but I will be sad to leave as we really have loved this place.

Venice
It was really nice to catch up with Curl and Maddy and share some of the sights and places we enjoyed when we visited Florence, the frustration you normally feel when viewing beautiful sights and thinking, wow dad would love this or wouldn’t mum love to be here was diminished and a sense of fulfillment was achieved. Having other friends around added a different dimension to the trip that I had not envisaged.

Florence to Venice did not look as though it would be a long trip but let me tell you the mountain range between us and the East coast made for more fantastic scenery, it is possible to use the motorways but as we have no time frame or schedule to keep we are able to explore the off roads at our leisure and pleasure. That’s if you consider skinny windy roads a pleasure as I do.
Unfortunately the old Fiat is struggling a bit and I fear before long she may need some attention to the gearbox, the question is do I attempt to have some work done in a country with language difficulties or chance it till we get back to the UK. Well I think with so many mountain ranges to cross I will have it looked at before we hit another one.
Once over the ranges the roads widen and the down hill trek is much easier. We find a campground in the middle of nowhere and bed down to see out the rain which has been threatening across the mountains.
The next 250 kms to Venice are quite flat and it is very obvious that we are entering into the wealthier North of Italy.
Cointha and Daniel become excited as we reach Fusina which is where we will be based while visiting Venice.
We set up camp as close to the water as possible and have a splendid view of Venice about 3 kms away over the water, we are now in for a treat as Deb and I stayed here in1995 and remember fondly huge cargo ships which pass the campsite about 20 meters from our motor home. It is an awesome sight for us country bumpkins and we are constantly dazzled by the sight over the next few days.
We are treated to a magnificent thunder storm that night followed by a deluge of rain, it rains all night and we see no sign of it letting up next morning so we catch up with some writing and washing while watching the people who are leaving slip and slide all over the campsite trying to retrieve there huge motorhomes from the quagmire.
After a hearty lunch we decide to brave our way across the Laguna Veneta and down the Grand Canal into Venice onboard the water taxi, as luck would have it the weather cleared and we spent a wonderful afternoon and the next few days in sunshine exploring the narrow streets and canals, stopping on the little bridges and marveling in the attractive and unique construction of this marvelous city.
No trip to Venice is complete without a gondola trip so after negotiating a reasonable fare with the Gondolier we set off along the canals. (Travel advice when negotiating with a Gondolier finds one that speaks your language as most of them have been trained to also be guides so check first as a good gondolier are only too happy to answer all manner of questions). We found a wonderful Gondolier, who’s name escapes me as we christened him Casanova and that name stuck. Well he was a second generation gondolier and had a sound knowledge of Venice, Venetian life and who was who, he even introduced us to his father as our gondolas passed on a narrow bend amidst a traffic jam of gondolas, speed boats and water taxis with lots of shouting and banter as you can only expect in Italy.
Saint Marks Square is a magnificent setting for a restaurant and there are quite a few lining the square, most notably Floriana, the oldest, its interior very elaborate in a classic ornate Italian style. The thought had crossed our minds that it would be nice to enjoy a coffee at Floriana while listening the orchestra complete with grand piano playing for their guests but at 8 euro($13.00) per coffee and $26.00 for a sandwich we decided to buy a bag of corn at $1.00 and allow the kids to feed the pigeons while Deb sat at one of their tables when the waiter was not looking in order to be a patron long enough to take a photo without the luxury of a bill. Venturing into the back streets of Venice we stumbled across a small shop where a glass blower was making tiny Gondolas with gondolier, so a souvenir gondola was purchased, I am starting to wonder now after 3 months and the amount of books and souvenirs we have purchased and 5 months to go, just how we will manage to board the plane home. Cointha would have loved about 300 of the beautiful masks in all shapes, sizes and colors that are able to be purchased all around the town, but I fear they would not last the journey so we opted for some tiny replicas that could be easily stowed.
The sun has disappeared now and as happened on our arrival the rain has returned
on the day we are leaving challenging us to negotiate our way between the trees and the Laguna slipping and sliding our way back to the bitumen successfully I might add.
This mornings adventure begins with a search for a place to refill our gas bottle, not that it is empty but after the exploits of Paris, we thought not to gamble with the gas.
Success was achieved and we now head for Lake Garda where we plan to relax in a resort and maybe find someone who can service the van.

Venetian masks

Spoleto was a rare find, you don’t hear anything about it in travel magazines as it is overshadowed by Assisi and Cortona in the Umbrian guides, yet we spent 3 wonderful days wandering the tiny streets and climbing the million steps and stairs through art galleries and cafes while basking in the beauty of the town and the friendliness of the locals. There was a restaurant attached to the campground where no English was spoken, for a bit of a challenge we sent Cointha and Daniel to buy a pizza and they managed to return with exactly what we ordered, I don’t know what happened in there or what was discussed but they managed perfectly.
Pilgrimage is not the reason we travelled to Assisi, yet there is no need to be a devout Christian to appreciate Assisi. It is unique in its layout with the buildings and streets in pristine conditon and the gentle slopes make it a very easy stroll for young and old. Different to the many narrow streeted and steep stepped villages and towns we have encountered. Asisi is the home of Saint Frances burial chamber and his tomb can be viewed in the monastery. Monks were in abundance wandering the streets in there robes which was interesting especially to Daniel who thinks he can carve one out of a pine cone, I think we will put that challenge to him and see what transpires.
Back to Tuscany now and we are catching up with Maddy and Curl Haslem who are staying in Greve. It’s going to be great especially since they are restocking us with Vegemite which we have run out of and it is very rare in Italy, we can get it in France but at a huge cost and at any rate we might not be there for a while yet considering Italy has already taken up 3 weeks longer than we expected. At this rate we will see you all in 5 years.
Well we met Curl and Maddy, received the vegemite and Deb also got a few gossip magazines so that’s the end of her for a couple of days.
It was great to hear some news from home and we are still trying to figure out which two of you it was who got arrested down Allan street for getting too romantic.
Gail and Curl were having a bit of trouble with a well known hire car company in Australia, but thanks to Tanya and the gang at Boomerang Travel in Kyabram they seem to have it all sorted so well done to you Tanya and thanks again for the help planning our trip, it is well worth shopping local and when you have problems like this it is great to know that you know the person trying to help and they really do care.
While in Greve I showed Maddy and Curl a few of the local customs I have picked up. In Italy a pedestrian crossing is a guide only and cars are not legally required to stop for pedestrians so after observing what the Italians do, I now just stand on the road like a traffic cop putting up my hand up until the traffic stops then wave the family across, this skill is not for the faint hearted and you can expect to get a few horn blasts and quite a bit of abuse but as I do not understand Italian it means nothing so I just smile and go on our way, another custom I picked up was to just walk though doors and gates so we can enjoy the wonderful court yards and gardens that the locals have discreeted away for their own leisure, I picked up this idea from Sheena when we were in Lyon and I have run with it because it adds a new dimension to the cities and villages that were oblivious to us. To date I have not been asked to leave one yet and I think that everyone justs accepts that this is what the locals do when showing friends visiting the village it is like we are invisible, or maybe they are just happy that we appreciate these yards and they are happy to show them off.
Anyway, what is the worst thing that can happen?
By the way
If you don’t hear from us for a while please send some bail money.

The bottom of the big gumboot is much easier to travel as the roads are much wider and there is a lot less traffic is decreased significantly. The beaches are much cleaner yet there seems to be a lot less facilities for tourists.We met an Italian bloke who spoke no English yet with the usual hand gestures and a few common phrases we worked out that he had driven 40000 kms traveling through Russia, China and back through Kazakhstan before returning to Italy and is now planning to drive to Turkey and Iran, good luck with that adventure, I don’t think our old van would like the roads in those countries very much at all.We reach the heel of the gumboot and cut inland to Arborobello, home of over 1000 Trulli. Houses..The Trulli houses are homes built with a stone conical roof in the 15th century, there were several reasons for this design, the original Trulli were built in conical shape from the ground up as they needed no timber for rafters with this design and timber was scarce in this region.As we approach Arborobello Deb nearly has conniptions pointing out the houses to the kids, (I was not aloud to look ) saying look look look, the kids found this hilarious and accused Deb of sounding like a magpie.They were also able to build these stone homes with no mortar which was very useful when the tax collector for the king of Naples arrived to collect the housing tax, they would with the aid of a lever or drawstring remove a keystone which would instantly collapse there home and they now giving them the loophole to avoid paying the tax.It is now a matter of just rebuilding your home which requires labour only as they already have all there building materials.It sounds a bit extreme and I don’t think Campaspe Shire would accept this excuse.We leave Arborobello and head north along the Adriatic spending a few days on the beach near Foggia before turning what we thought to be inland but was in fact over a mountain range, so here we were in the morning on the beach and by lunch we were under a foot of snow as the sky closed in and I was starting to think that maybe a set of snow chains would have been a worthwhile purchase. Fortunately the snow ploughs were along the road way before us so we were able to enjoy the snow and magnificent vistas, although we had to reroute the journey as the GPS in it’s wisdom thought it was a wonderful idea to head north of the main highway along a secondary road which went higher than the 1200 meters we were already at and a road I am sure would not have ploughed as well as the road we were on.After an extra 150 kms and an extra 3 hours we arrive at Mamore only to find that the caravan park was not open, we have now realised that the Italians, along with not opening caravan parks when there signs say they are open and don’t’ come back from siesta when they say they will. It is starting to get late so we push north and get totally lost in Terni thanks to roadworks and bad signage the GPS was totally confused and tried to push us over another mountain. Sorry but that was not about to happen at this time of night, so we reevaluated and negotiated our way back to Terni and managed to arrive in Spoleto in the dark which was quite nice as the fort and the Roman aquaduct were under lights which looked magnificent.