I decide I am having a lie in… I still manage to wake up at 7am UK time but that’s a more respectable 8am here. That despite two nocturnal excursions when The Dog woke me to let me know she wanted to go outside. Note the “wanted”, this is not “needed,” at home she quite happily goes all night without going out but here it’s easy for her to wake me – she stands on my chest and licks my face – and she likes to have a sniff around outside in the dark.
After getting up and getting dressed we set off in search of fuel. After our little accident two years ago DH prefers to get his fuel when the van isn’t on the back of the car and lots of places close on Sundays. We are lucky, Ecomarche is open until midday so we manage to fill up with enough diesel – noww 1.45 a litre- to get us to our next destination, Le Paradis in the Dordogne. DH waits in the car with The Dog while I go into the supermarket, returning shortly afterwards with a baguette, some potatoes and a rose! Today is Mothers Day and all likely looking customers get roses. A nice touch.
Back at the campsite everyone is up and about – all four of them. The sun is shining and it looks set to be a nice day. I am tempted to stay but preparations for departure are well underway so the plan is to drive down to the Dordogne at a leisurely pace. I chat to Harry who has caravanned for forty years but has had a motorhome for the past fifteen years. I give my rose to Dorothy. Harry tells me she has Alzheimers but they still manage to spend most of the winter in Spain. They have been in France since March and will head for home after a visit to the vet in Chateauponsac tomorrow with their little dog. Harry tells me last year he paid only 19€ for treatment involving two visits, tablets, two injections and the necessary treatment to allow their dog to return home. A bargain! We’re still packing up when Harry and Dorothy set off for the day on their motorbike. Harry is driving, Dorothy is on the back and their dog is in a pet carrier tied on behind. They are eighty and they will be back in September to visit Italy.
The other couple will stay till their car is mended but the Renault garage is having a few days holiday. They are looking for a home in France. He is impressed by the local house prices having spoken to someone who paid £80,000 for a “maison de maitre” last October. So if the garage is closed for much longer they could end up living in Chateauponsac.
For us it’s back to the N20 and south past Limoges. Very pretty scenery, lots of Limousin cattle and the occasional downpour. As we near the Dordogne the showers are more frequent and heavier. We pass rivers which are brown with mud from recent rain. We arrive at Le Paradis in torrential rain. We stay in the car hoping the rain will ease but eventually I have to get out to do the checking in. I’m not sure when it happened but this task always falls to me now.
Madame speaks English and tells me we can pitch anywhere, except in the flooded sections. She gives me a map of the site. Half the pitches are crossed out, they are flooded. The map also contains information on what to do in the event of a flood…leave everything except your money and your passport and make your way out on foot. Auspicious or what! She tells me that Forsythia is not flooded and no 11 will suit us so I go back to tell DH and The Dog where we are going. We go nowhere, we stay in the car waiting for the rain to ease. After half an hour we decide to investigate Forsythia no 11.
We drive through what seems to be a deserted and flooded site till we get to Forsythia. People are everywhere. They have waterproofs, Wellingtons and golf umbrellas; they seem cheerful and friendly but we stay in the car. The rain is still torrential. Eventually DH decided to go in the van for his wet weather gear. I don’t do wet weather so I don’t have wet weather gear. The Dog and I stay in the car while DH splashes about deciding where to put the van. Thank goodness for caravan movers. Once the van is positioned The Dog and I run from the car through the puddles and into the van. Poor DH stays outside doing essential things with legs and such till it is too wet to do anymore and he comes inside. The path we drove down shortly before is gone, now we are surrounded by a muddy brown stream. People are out poking in the stream quizzically. Where has the drain gone?
We are wet but inside the van. We have no electricity yet and no gas so no heating and no hot drinks. We have a glass of whisky, I wrap up in a blanket and go to sleep.
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