In normal BC [Before Coronavirus] times we would make regular trips to Leek in Staffordshire, partly to visit family but also to stock up on the culinary delight that is as essential to anyone brought up in north Staffordshire as fresh air. This is, of course, the Staffordshire oatcake.
In Leek there is still a small shop that is mostly oatcakes. These oatcakes are soft but substantial, they are full of the taste of oats and are perfect rolled around some melted cheese for a warming lunch. Oatcakes freeze well and we will always come back from a trip to Leek with enough oatcakes to fill our small freezer. You can occasionally buy something called Staffordshire oatcakes in the supermarket but these lacey and flimsy things are just a hopeless substitute for the real thing.
Of course, in these days of Lock Down Three, a trip to Leek for oatcakes in no way counts as an essential trip, whatever my stomach might think! My dad kindly suggested posting me some but that seemed an extravagance for such an inexpensive but bulky and weighty item. The only option was to bring Staffordshire to Lancashire and make our own.
I did make Staffordshire oatcakes many years ago and we both remembered something tasty but thick and chewy. This time I used our heavy cast iron frying pan that fries pretty much everything beautifully and worked hard to get a batter that was just the right consistency to spread around the pan.
Ingredients for 5 or 6 oatcakes (depending on how thin you get them)
150g oats – whizzed in a nut grinder or food processor for a short while until they are finer
150g flour – use either white or white and wholemeal mixed
7g dried yeast
1 teaspoon sugar and salt to taste
300ml milk (I used soya milk)
300 ml water (boiled and cooled)
Put all the dry ingredients in a bowl and mix together. Add the cold milk to warm water, you want a temperature that it isn’t too hot to put your fingers in. Whisk the milk and water into the dry ingredients. The batter should be fairly runny. Cover the bowl and leave this in a warm place to bubble up for about an hour.
After an hour or so the batter will be frothy and before cooking you should give it a stir. I added a little more water at this point so that it was a thick pouring consistency (like thin porridge). In a good thick-bottomed frying pan, melt a knob of butter or margarine and swirl this around to cover the pan. I use a soup ladle to measure out the oatcake batter and about two ladles worked well for one oatcake. Ladle the mixture into the frying pan and, if it doesn’t spread out itself, carefully spread it around the pan with a knife [I use a long baking palette knife] so that your oatcake isn’t too thick. You will notice the mixture that is in contact with the pan will cook quickly but you have time to move the runny / uncooked mixture sitting on the top to the edges. After two to three minutes, turn the oatcake over to cook the other side (you can check it is cooked by peeking).
Once both sides are cooked, place the oatcake to one side and cook the next until all your batter is used up.
We like to enjoy our oatcakes with cheese. If you are going to eat your oatcakes as soon as you have cooked them [and who can blame you] simply put your favourite cheese [grated or sliced] along the centre third of each oatcake, roll it up and keep them warm in the oven until you have cooked them all.
If you are working with cold oatcakes, then you can warm them in the oven or under the grill. Add the cheese as above and for the oven roll them up, place on a baking sheet and warm for about 20 minutes until the cheese has melted. Under the grill, leave the oatcakes open and grill them for about five minutes and then roll up and eat. A dollop of your favourite brown or tomato sauce on the side compliments this simple dish and you can spice it up by adding tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, gherkins or pickle [or all of these and more] to the cheese.
Some people eat oatcakes with a full English cooked breakfast and others eat them with sweet fillings but this latter combo has never been tried in our house or in any of our families houses!
In 2020 we spent three weeks touring around beautiful Brittany. We walked for many kilometres, particularly on the GR34 coastal path and enjoyed some pleasurable cycling on quiet lanes. We found stunning cliffs, sweeps of white sand and plenty of quiet corners to just sit and enjoy the scenery. Brittany proved to be a fantastic region of France for a varied activity-based holiday.
The list of campsites we stayed at is on a separate blog post. In this longer than usual post I have shared information about the wonderful walks and cycle rides we enjoyed to inspire your own trip to Brittany. Apologies if I have missed a typo in all these words!
Walks & Cycle Rides
A stroll around bays and rocky headlands of Île-Grande, nearTrebeurden
Walking among pink granite boulders from Tourony on the GR34
Finding solitude on foot and by bike on the Pays Pagan in Finistère
A walk through history along the cliffs at Pointe de St Mathieu
Walking around the ancient stones and the harbour at Camaret-sur-Mer
Picture postcard Locronan and the Bois de Nevet walks
Above the rocks & crashing waves at the Pointe du Van
Cycling on the Cap Sizun to botanical gardens and Menez Dregan
Coast and wetland walks around Beg Meil in southern Brittany
Rolling along the Nantes-Brest Canal on two wheels
Spectacular coastal walking from Saint Coulomb near St Malo
A circuit of the walls of Saint-Malo
We started our journey on the northern coast of Brittany, heading west and then gradually making our way south around the coast to Beg Meil, south of Quimper. We returned north, driving through inland Brittany to the north coast.
1. A circuit of Île-Grande, near Trebeurden
A perfect evening stroll from Camping L’Esperance near Trebeurden is across the rocky and sandy bay towards Ile Grande. If you have longer, then the circuit of Ile Grande [around 8 km] is a perfect and satisfying walk.
It was a warm August day when we set off but a sea mist was still rolling along the coast. Crossing the road from the campsite, we headed across the sands. The route you take here will depend on the tides and how much you enjoy paddling. Ile Grande, as the name suggests, is an island but you can often skirt around the sea and cross to the island without using the bridge. On the island we turned right, following the path through a varied landscape. At times we were surrounded by tall bushes, at other times we were on sandy paths just above the coast, walking around deep bays and out onto rocky peninsulas. There were butterflies and wild flowers, sculptures and information boards. The bay by the sailing club was busy with paddle board and wind surfing lessons in full swing.
More than half the way around, the League for the Protection of Birds have a centre near the Pointe de Toul-Ar-Staon that you can visit. By the island’s campsite there is an excellent restaurant We only stopped for drinks here but you could have lunch and it is worth booking as it is popular. We ate our picnic lunch in the sunshine on a sheltered bay full of boats before skirting the salt marshes around the final large sheltered cove.
After our circuit we walked into the sleepy village and followed signs uphill to an allée couverte, a late Neolithic burial site. This good example in the centre of the island has two large slabs resting on rows of upright stones. Local legend tells of dwarfs who lived here but they didn’t make an appearance on our visit and we carried on up to the outcrop of rocks that gave us a 360 degree view of the island.
2. On the GR34 Sentier des Douaniers from Tourony Port, Tregastel
The Sentier des Douaniers or GR34 is apparently France’s favourite Grande Randonnée (GR) or long-distance footpath and I soon came to realise why. The path hugs the Brittany shore for around 2,000 km (1,243 miles) from Mont-Saint-Michel to the port of Saint-Nazaire on the River Loire. Known as le Sentier des Douaniers, the path was created in the 18th century to help customs officers apprehend smugglers and it winds around many promontories, inlets and bays. It was our companion on many of our Brittany walks.
From Camping Tourony we walked around the sheltered and picturesque port and along a popular section of the GR34 around the Côte de Granit Rose, named after the areas distinctive and attractive pink granite boulders. We stopped to watch the boats sailing in and out of the harbour and admire the rocky islets, including one with a neo-gothic castle. The path wound through shady pine trees and large boulders to Plage St Guirec, a bustling sandy beach with shops and restaurants.
The next section of the GR34 is simply stunning. In the sunshine, the sea was blue, each bay seemed prettier than the last and the stacks of pink granite boulders added drama to the views. We passed the Phare de Men Ruz, also built of the local granite, that dates from 1948 and is still in use. The footpaths are well marked and visitors are managed so that the colourful heather, gorse and wild flowers can flourish.
This is a lovely enough route to make retracing your steps no hardship, or, like us, you can cut inland back to St Guirec on a path that follows the boundary of the Le Ranolien campsite. We ate excellent ice-creams from Histoires de Glaces on the beach before retracing our steps to Tourony.
In the evening we walked to Tourony beach, a perfect spot for some evening tranquility. We climbed over the massive pink boulders and pottered along the soft sand in the evening calm.
3. Finding solitude walking and cycling around the Pays Pagan near Guisseny
There was so much to like about Camping Vougot, I am surprised we managed to tear ourselves away. We had driven west into Finistère and found quiet roads, deserted beaches and wide views, just what we like. To top this off, the helpful campsite owners gave us information about local walks and cycle routes.
On our first day we followed Cycle Route Two, an easy 23 km circuit from the campsite. This used quiet roads and tracks, through fields of cauliflowers and cabbages. The landscape is dotted with farms and holiday homes and small campsites for two or three caravans. This is the Pays Pagan, a perilous stretch of coastline where sharp needles of rock lurk just under the water making navigation difficult for boats even on a clear day and when the sea mist rolls in many ships have been lost here. Legends tell stories of wreckers, who lured ships onto the rocks and looted their cargo and that is easy to believe in this remote area although it isn’t clear how reliable the legends are.
The GR34 comes this way, following the rugged bays. On the northern coast we watched surfers waiting for the waves on long sandy beaches. Near Kerlouarn we sat on a rocky headland between a large sandy bay, Plage Roc ‘h ar gonc, and a small sheltered cove and had our lunch. A memorial to a Canadian boat torpedoed in 1944 was nearby. Our return went inland via a pretty church, Sainte Egarec, surrounded by pink hydrangeas and with a well reached by steps and looked over by a saint’s statue.
From the campsite, the walk around Etang du Curnic, a local wetland and nature reserve is a pleasant way to spend an hour or so. We spotted coots, swans and a heron on the water and a shy water rail dipped in and out of the tall reeds. In the evenings we would walk the ten minutes to the beach to watch the sun drift into the sea. The waves gently lap against the shore and sanderlings, turnstones and ringed plover feed at the water’s edge. As we walked back to the dunes, sand hoppers softly flitted around our feet.
The Circuit de Milin Ar Raden, is a 10 km walk from the campsite that is a perfect mixture of countryside and coast. You could, if you wanted, split this up into two walks. We began by walking along the lanes between the fields of horses and plots for caravans near the campsite and then climbed the steep green hillside beyond the coast. We followed sunken paths through dense hedges and bracken and stopped to see La Fontaine Sainte Claire before descending by a gurgling stream where an old mill was hidden in the trees. Taking the paths around the Etang du Curnic we followed the tall dyke enjoying the views of the beach to our right and the ponds to our left. We were back on the GR34, following the coast around a rocky headland and onto the long stretch of white sand at Plage du Vougo. At the end of the beach a track bought us back to the campsite.
4. A walk through history along the cliffs at Pointe de St Mathieu
We drove through the quiet countryside of Finistère to Pointe de St Mathieu that overlooks the Bay of Biscay and the Atlantic and the entrance to the port of Brest. This is a popular destination but there is plenty of parking.
The star attraction here is the juxtaposition of the grey stones of a ruined abbey with a tall slender bright red and white lighthouse. Wandering around the ruined abbey is free and you can pay to climb the lighthouse. I stood in the shade of the old church among the stone columns, looking up at the towering lighthouse. On foot we explored the dark craggy coastline. Signs tells the story of numerous ships and submarines lost off this coast and old gun lookouts remain from war time. Gannets and cormorants flew along the blue sea and sailing boats found a safe course between the rocks and in the distance we spotted the Brittany Ferry to Spain. Beyond the abbey is the National Memorial to Sailors.
On our return we stopped at Fort de Bertheaume, that sits on an island now accessible by a bridge but in the 17th century it was reached by an aerial gondola. The site was fortified by Vauban in the 17th century and is strategically important as it guards the entrance to the port at Brest. Fort de Bertheaume was used by Nazi soldiers in the Second World War and the area wasn’t cleared of the mines until the 1990s, when it was opened to the public. If the bridge is too tame, you can recreate the original access to the fort by taking the zip wire and via ferrata across to the island for the fantastic views out to sea and across the harbour.
5. Walking from the ancient stones to the historic harbour at Camaret-sur-Mer on the Crozon Peninsular
We headed south to the Crozon peninsular, parking above Camaret-sur-Mer near the Alignements de Lagatjar. The 60 stones here are arranged in rows at right angles to each other and the grassy site is a perfect place for a picnic.
It is only a short walk from the stones into the bustling resort of Camaret-sur-Mer but there is plenty to see and you’ll want to take your time. Before you head for the town, begin with a walk out to the cliffs and the atmospheric ruins of the Manoir Saint-Pol Roux. Home of the poet Saint-Pol Roux this baroque turreted mansion overlooking the sea was occupied by the German army in the Second World War and bombed by Allied Forces.
In the town we began by exploring the back streets. These old lanes are lined with picturesque cottages adorned with colourful flowers in window boxes and bougainvillea plants trailing overhead. At the harbour we admired the boats and the pretty cafes and restaurants. Camaret-sur-Mer’s historic sites are on the harbour wall. Here there is a row of large wrecks in a boat graveyard and a pretty church that has model ships hanging from the ceiling. At the end is the highlight, the deep pink Vauban Tower. This 17th century polygonal defensive tower with a moat, looks over the entrance into the harbour at Brest, facing Fort de Bertheaume.
6. Picture postcard Locronan and the Bois de Nevet walks
Locronan is a gorgeous and picturesque inland village that knows it. It’s cobbled streets, lined with charming grey stone cottages lead through intimate squares to the stunning Place de L’Eglise. The village has been used as a film location many times and is packed with tourist shops. We were staying at the campsite on the edge of the town and on our first day followed the town walk from the map the campsite had given us.
It is certainly worth walking up the hill from the Place de L’Eglise for the views over the town. On this route you can follow pretty paths around the manor house and back into Locronan. Walking downhill from the town centre we found the attractively-situated Chapelle Notre Dame Bonne Nouvelle with a fountain outside. I slipped inside this simple chapel to see the striking modern stained glass. We followed a sunken lane back to the bustle of the town, bought ice-creams to eat in the square and then delicious Breton cassis cakes from the traditional bakery to eat later with a mug of tea back at the van.
Our visit coincided with one of the regular evening artisan markets that go on until late at night. We returned in the evening to stroll around the stalls of baskets, local food, jewellery and toys and enjoy the music and entertainment.
The campsite had also given us a map for a 10 km walk and the next day we set off to more or less follow this. We detoured to see the Chapelle Ar Zonj and the nearby viewpoint across the countryside to the coast. The little chapel has an interesting stone staircase by the gate.
We easily picked up the lane on the 10 km walk from the viewpoint but got slightly lost beyond here. But carrying on along the lane we found the path that goes around the campsite. We walked along shady sunken tracks between stone walls and hedges and quiet lanes towards Bois de Nevet. In the forest we picked up delightful paths through the lush woodland. After lunch near the forest HQ we followed a path around the forest edge, finding a pretty pond, but missing our way and resorted to Google to get back onto the road to Kerbléon. From here the route was on lanes by industrial units and farms, gradually coming back round to Locronan. If we ever return, I think this walk would be improved by spending longer exploring the beauty of the Bois de Nevet and returning to Locronan from there, missing out the lanes and industrial areas.
7. Above the rocks & crashing waves at the Pointe du Van
On the Cap-Sizun peninsular, Pointe du Van and Pointe du Raz point like craggy fingers out to sea. We parked at the large parking area on Pointe du Van and walked around the headland, beginning with the stone chapel where we had views across the sea to Pointe du Raz and its lighthouse. It was breezy on this exposed bit of coast where rocks jut out into a blue sea full of white frothing waves. The paths wind among abundantly growing sweet fragrant heather. Before heading back to the ‘van we carried on a little further to two windmills, one built from stone and wood and the other just stone and both with restored sails. The whole walk is about 4 km.
You could walk down to the Baie des Trépassés [Bay of the Dead] that huddles between the Pointe du Van and Pointe du Raz. We opted to drive and walked along the wide sands to explore the rock pools under the cliffs. This bay is popular with surfers and the tide was coming in, creating rolling waves. The surfing looked both fun and terrifying.
8. Cycling on the Cap Sizun to botanical gardens and Menez Dregan
A campsite with a cycle route running by it ticks boxes for us and so we stayed a few nights at Camping Plage Kersiny. Once again we had a lovely beach nearby for watching the sunset, this time a rocky bay where curlews and black headed gulls fed among the thick seaweed on the rocks, dodging the spray from the waves.
It is only about a 16 km round trip from our campsite to Audierne and the lovely Parc Botanique Ar Paeron but give yourself plenty of time as there is lots to see on the way. At first we were following quiet residential roads where we stopped to look at the view along the coast. The cycle route signs took us to the sheltered river mouth and harbour where the scene across the river to the charming white buildings of Audierne was lovely. We sat having our picnic while we watched people messing about on boats. The bridge across the river is slightly further inland and crossing this we walked the bikes along Audierne’s flower-lined promenade that was busy with cafes and shops.
Beyond the bustle of the town we went to the end of the harbour wall and the lighthouse, looking across a sandy beach. We continued cycling along the craggy coast until we spotted signs for the Parc Botanique Ar Paeron and decided to investigate. The lane climbs steeply up the hillside and after cycling down a track we propped the bikes up outside a small hut / entrance. We paid €4.50 each and were given a map and sent off to explore this peaceful botanical gardens. The planting is relaxed and the gardens have a charming natural feel, although many plants are labelled with their names and continents. There were some beautiful and unusual species in flower and bees hummed amongst the beds and butterflies flitted from one colourful bloom to another. This garden is a perfect haven from the coast. We cycled back the same way.
Cycle in the opposite direction from the campsite and you will reach Menez Dregan in Plouhinec around 4 km along the coast. We left the coastal cycle route and picked up a mountain bike route which turned out to be a great choice, taking us off the roads and onto a green lane, a stone wall to one side and views down to the rocky coast and beaches on the other. Fragrant bushes lined the route and it was idyllic. We rejoined the road in time for Plage de Guendrez, a large sandy beach that is popular with surfers and swimmers.
Menez Dregan sits on the headland above this beach. This archaeological treasure trove is a large and complex stone necropolis from the Neolithic period. Built in many phases the site has several dolmens. Below the burial mound a Palaeolithic cave in what is now a sea cliff is being excavated. This cave was home to humans when this area was about 5 km from the sea and the cave looked out over grassland.
9. Coast and wetland walks around Beg Meil in southern Brittany
Our campsite at Beg Meil was close to the small town with bars and restaurants. It was also perfect for some walking. With the huge expanse of Kemil Beach just a meandering ten minutes walk away, you will probably head there first, reaching the sea at the western end of the 4 km stretch of Kemil Beach. Looking along the sands you would be forgiven for thinking you have arrived on a tropical island. The sand is white and pine trees line the bay, under a blue sky this is paradise.
Turn left and walk through the trees to the next bay, Plage de Kermyl. Here rocks edge the sands and more woodland, rocks and sandy bays follow. We walked around the coast to Pointe de Beg Meil, passing large stone houses that have enviable coastal outlooks. At times the footpath resembles a maze, with hedges on either side of us and limited access points to the sands. At the Plage des Oiseaux we descended stone steps through the weathered granite boulders to the sands. On this peaceful beach we sat listening to the lapping of the waves and watched stand up paddle boarders who gently followed the coastline. Further out a fishing boat was working and black headed gulls searched for food. I looked across the sea to the town of Concarneau and searched the sands for pretty shells. At the stone jetty in Beg Meil we turned inland and walked through the shops and cafes back to the campsite.
We enjoyed a fantastic longer walk of about 10 km when we turned right at Kemil Beach, heading for Mousterlin. On the outward route we walked inland picking up some of the many and popular paths that wind around the wetlands, woodland and streams. In this lush landscape of dark pine trees and grassland it is hard to believe you are just a few hundred metres from the sea. We spotted egrets on the wetlands and a coypu in one of the pools. At Mousterlin we stopped for drinks at the cafe overlooking the beach before walking back along the 4 km stretch of Kemil Beach. Low dunes border the sands and I paddled through the surf, watching the swimmers and kite surfers and wind surfers who were taking advantage of a breeze.
10. Rolling along the Nantes-Brest Canal on two wheels
The small village of Le Roc-Saint-André near Ploërmel has a campsite that is right on the Nantes to Brest Canal. This makes it perfect for some easy off-road cycling. The picturesque town of Josselin with its castle is around 35 km round trip or an easier ride is to Malestroit, around 18 km there and back.
Either way the cycling is idyllic on a wide level path. The canal runs through countryside and is lined with trees. Each lock is colourful with baskets of flowers and watched over by a lock keeper. Boats gently putter by on the canal and the boating people wave as they pass. Watching herons, swans and ducks will detain you.
We were lucky to arrive at Malestroit, a pretty little town, on market day. We stopped for coffee and then wandered around the stalls that sold everything from boxes of disposable masks to fruit and vegetables. There were food stalls with paella and couscous dishes too. The market is in a square surrounded by attractive timber-framed houses, many with ornate carvings in wood or stone.
The sunshine disappeared and the wind began to whip the stall canopies in the air; we realised it was time to head back, racing along the canal trying to beat the rain. We were about five minutes away from the shelter of the ‘van when the shower began.
11. Spectacular coastal walking from Saint Coulomb near St Malo
Camping des Chevrets was the perfect place for two hikers, there was so many options for walking we were spoilt for choice. Being on the coast you could obviously turn either left or right and we walked inland too.
You don’t have to undertake a long walk from Camping des Chevrets. For a short outing head down to the beach which is the perfect place to watch the sunset or the paragliders that skim above the trees. If you’re tempting to walk a little further then l’île Besnard, not an island but a rocky peninsular now attached to the mainland by a sandy spit of land will occupy an hour or so. It was breezy and showering as we climbed the cliffs and walked to the headland in an anti-clockwise direction. Overlooking Rothéneuf Bay and harbour the walk became more sheltered and by the time we climbed down to a beach and salt marsh it was summer once again. Rock samphire grows in abundance here as well as purple rock sea lavender. On the salt marsh there were little egrets, oystercatchers, sanderlings, ringed plover and turnstone.
Another short walk is around Pointe du Meinga, another headland, this time to the right of the beach. The stony and rocky path around the point is undulating and at times narrow and precipitous, the vegetation giving a clue to the prevailing winds. On the windy side gorse and heather and hardy white sea campion dominate. On the sheltered side there is bracken, pine trees and tall hedgerows. A path crosses the headland back to the beach and the campsite if you don’t want to retrace your steps.
Our first longer walk [about 14 km] from Camping des Chevrets was to the strange Rochers Sculptes beyond Rothéneuf. At low tide you can walk across the sands, crossing a river over an old concrete walkway covered in seaweed and walking under the cliffs topped with pine trees. Rothéneuf has a harbour full of boats and plenty of big houses and the waves are channelled through the narrow gap between the mainland and l’île Besnard beyond the harbour. From Rothéneuf we picked up a path above the sea cliffs, occasionally sheltered by high hedges, to a tiny chapel. Below was a tiny bay reached by steep steps and rocks with a handrail to make it possible and here we sheltered from the wind. It wasn’t much further to Les Rochers Sculptes. These sculputres of figures, faces and animals were created by a priest at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. The priest had a stroke and unable to carry on working spent 15 years carving these sculptures from the granite on a sloping finger of rock. Some sculptures are intertwined and complex, others are simple stand alone heads. The paths between them are narrow and uneven and I was constantly aware of the sea below. We walked further along the coast to Plage du Val, a small sandy bay between rocky headlands overlooked by attractive grey stone houses before heading back. On our return the tide was high and we could only walk so far along the beach at Rothéneuf before taking the GR34 high tide variant. This part of the walk had a different atmosphere through pine trees on soft ground and we crossed a small and overgrown dam before scrambling between hedges and brambles on a narrow path back to the bay below the campsite.
Setting off inland we followed quiet roads, green lanes and paths to the village of Saint Coulomb, often following a local MTB route. We reached the Etangs Ste Suzanne, a large fishing lake surrounded by woodland and divided by a road bridge. We sat on a picnic bench here and watched the great crested grebes. In the fields were corn and cabbages and the hedgerows were full of ripe blackberries. Saint Coulomb, which took its name from the monk who landed here in the 6th century, is a tidy village with a few shops and a cafe. Around the village are a number of historical manor houses or malouinières built by wealthy shipowners from Saint-Malo.
Our final walk from Camping des Chevrets was the best and the longest at 16 km. The sun was shining and we were following the GR34 along the coast towards Cancale and Pointe du Grouin. Once we had left the campsite we were away from the roads and saw few people for the morning. Occasionally we noticed someone sunbathing in one of the sandy coves we walked by. In between the bays we were walking above craggy cliffs and lichen-covered rocks with views across the sea or through sharply fragrant pine woodland. In sheltered corners we were surrounded by bracken and wild flowers and hordes of butterflies, including peacocks and red admirals. At Plage du Verger there were more people, not surprising as this large beach has an island with an 18th century fort at one end. You could walk back from here [about 19 km round trip] or catch the bus back to the campsite. We opted to carry on to Pointe du Grouin, a further 6.5 km, on a path that was steep in places but had fantastic views back to Plage du Verger and across to the headland. Pointe du Grouin is a honeypot destination with gift shops and cafes, an orientation table and big views. We caught the bus back to the campsite and treated ourselves to ice-creams and beer at the beachside cafe.
12. A circuit of the walls of Saint-Malo
Our last walk in Brittany was around the old walls of Saint-Malo. We parked our campervan on some on-street parking on Avenue Louis Martin that has ticket machines. This was about 1 km from the old walled town. The ramparts of Saint-Malo are a magnificent walk of 1.75 km, with views out to blue sea dotted with rocky islets and forts. Reaching the harbour we walked along the harbour wall and could see our Brittany Ferries ship waiting for our evening sailing. The compact and crowded city inside the walls has buildings of three or four storeys above narrow cobbled streets. We had our last holiday crepes in a shady square and toasted the beauty of Brittany and its fantastic walking and cycling.
We all know that January 2021 has been the longest January in history thanks to Lock Down Three. New Year’s Eve and the carefree days when we could meet friends for a stroll in the fresh air seem to be part of another life.
In an effort to put some variety into the mundane existence that is Lock Down Three in Lancashire we have been volunteering at our local vaccination centre. The irony in our act of generosity is obvious. If we hadn’t been in Lock Down Three, we would have been walking in the fells and staying in our campervan on quiet campsites and car parks. We would have been mostly outdoors and hardly seeing anyone and certainly wouldn’t be spending over eight hours a day indoors and close to lots of people. As it is, to get through the tedium of a lock-down January we have put ourselves at the most risk we can, helping the 800 or so people a day through Morecambe’s busy vaccination centre. Despite the masks and sanitising gel this has to be the most risky thing we have done since March last year!
I don’t miss the dreariness of going to work but I do catch a glimpse of myself feeling a touch of envy when I hear about my working friends having Zoom meetings, struggling to meet deadlines and generally having a purpose to their day. For me, every day is pretty much the same. My first thought every morning is, ‘What day is it today,’ as I try and hold on to the structure of the week and immediately reveal my worry that I could easily miscalculate. And some days are so long, by the afternoon I find myself wondering, ‘Is it really still Tuesday!’ Our weekly high-risk mixing and talking with people who are attending their vaccination appointment is the stimulus and diversion I need to get me through the lock-down tedium.
Without our sessions at the vaccination centre there would be little in our diaries and nothing novel. Other than this volunteering, the rhythm of each day is pretty much the same and the days are hard to distinguish from each other. It could be Tuesday or Sunday as I lose myself in a good book, bake a cake, tackle a complicated jigsaw and relax with a good TV drama. The dynamism of Morecambe Bay stops me becoming completely numb, it is different every time we walk to the coast.
I have George The Stourbridge Junction Station Cat to thank for the inspiration for this blog post title. A recent post suggested:
Cruising in neutral describes how January has felt. I don’t like wasting the limited time I have on this earth and want to get the most out of life while I can but this is just impossible at the moment. Over the last ten months I have got frustrated about being kept indoors and had rollercoaster ups and downs. To keep myself on some sort of even keel, I have ditched the discontent, taken myself out of gear and stuck myself in neutral. These feel like precious days that are being wasted but at least I am getting through them. I have no expectations about when I will be able to meet up with my friends again; I am planning no holidays or trips in our Blue Bus; I am looking no further forward than enjoying my next morning’s coffee and I am just staggering through one day at a time into an indistinct future.
If Lock Down Three is tough for you too, I hope you are getting the support you need or at least finding your own way to cope and I send some love your way.
2020 can’t really count as a full year in terms of camping! Thanks to Covid-19 and the various restrictions, we only had 173 nights [24 weeks and five days] when we were able to take our campervan, the Blue Bus, away for the night. Despite the lock downs, quarantine and tiers from March to the end of 2020 we managed to get away for 79 nights during the year in our campervan. Here in Lancashire our year looked like this:
Lock Down One 23/3/20 – 3/7/20 – 103 nights
Quarantine after our trip to France – 14 nights
Lancashire in Tier Three and national Lock Down Two 17/10/20 – 31/12/20 – 76 nights
A total of 193 nights when either campsites were closed or we were not allowed to use them.
Not everyone uses their campervan as much as we normally do. Of course, there are some owners who full-time or are hardly at home but for us 79 nights away is considerably less than we expected to be sleeping in our campervan in 2020 [we haven’t even used up the teabag stash we bought in February when we were getting ready for being away for over three months]. Our 2020 nights in the campervan is almost half the number of nights we were away in 2017 and in 2018. A ‘van is an expensive piece of kit and we don’t like to waste it. Since retirement we have used our Blue Bus over 100 nights in each year, including the year we moved house. When we were restricted by work we would usually be away for around 70+ nights, so 2020 felt a bit like being taken back in time.
Those 79 nights away were spent in 41 different campsites and overnight stops. We still don’t stay anywhere long! We have now spent 608 nights in our current Blue Bus and 1,325 nights in total in a campervan over the 15 years we have owned a ‘van.
With restrictions and constraints on our travel, the trips we did manage to make were all the more memorable and valued. I don’t think I will ever take the freedom to travel in our campervan for granted again. Out of those 79 nights, 16 were made in those carefree days BC days [Before Coronavirus]. In that time we had some short local holidays and got away to Wiltshire and Gloucestershire and Scotland. Of course, if I had known what was coming we would have been away more but, like many, I thought I had the year planned out. We were the last people to leave a Scottish campsite when Lock Down One began and that long drive through a shocked and anxious UK was a strange day.
After campsites re-opened on the 4th July [hurrah!] and then the VAT reduction was bought in, we took a number of fantastic trips. Staying local, camping in the Lake District was pure pleasure, Cheshire’s Delamere Forest delightful and the Yorkshire Dales always a favourite. We are lucky in the north-west of England to have so many beautiful places nearby.
More than usual in 2020, we spent our time walking and cycling, rarely visiting attractions. On a few occasions we met up with friends for socially distanced camping and hiking. This was the year when these social [and socially distanced] occasions with friends were rare and particularly precious times.
Mistakenly we thought things might be settling down and we headed further afield. We spent a fabulous few weeks on a circuit of Brittany through August [not a time of year we would normally have chosen but needs must] and found that France is even wonderful in the school holidays and that Brittany has some amazing and attractive corners on the coast and inland.
After France and staying home for quarantine we fitted in a trip to Scotland, discovering new places and re-discovering old haunts as we toured around the east coast and more Lake District and Yorkshire Dales trips. We knew that our days of being able to travel were numbered and that we would soon be confined to home again.
There were times within those restricted weeks when we could travel but not stay overnight. We took every opportunity to drive for up to an hour from home for a day trip and stretch our legs on some hills, rather than Morecambe’s Promenade. The Blue Bus came into its own on those trips too as we are self-sufficient and don’t need to use any other facilities..
At the moment none of us can go anywhere and planning feels too risky so I have no idea what 2021 has in store for us. I hope we will get to use our Blue Bus soon to create some more special memories.
It is that time of the year again when I share how much money we have spent in the last 12 months, revealing our spending habits in all their profligacy. I divulge our expenditure for interest and accountability, as we aim to stay within a budget. Our spending is peculiar to us but any comments are gladly received.
Our budget remains at £27,000 a year for the fourth year running. This is now below the average UK household spending. The headline is that despite the strange year we have had our outgoings for 2020 came within budget [hurrah], although the headline doesn’t tell the whole story. As I said last year, our annual spending seems to go up and down like a rollercoaster, with alternating frugal years and expensive years. Sometimes it is our campervan that costs us a lot of money but 2020 was a year of home-making and healthcare.
It is just over twelve months since we moved to our Morecambe bungalow. The home improvements that are included in our 2020 spending are all things we would expect to carry out more than once in our [expected] remaining lifetime. These purchases include a new bedroom carpet to replace the grotty brown carpet from the 1980s that came with the bungalow and could tell a tale or two; new furniture to replace some that was second-hand 36 years ago, a new sofa bed [as we thought we would have visitors!] as well as smaller items like paint, varnish and brushes. More expensive home improvements which we consider one-off items are kept separate. So, on top of the budgeted expenditure in the usual categories, in 2020 we spent £13,300 on new windows and doors, resurfacing the drive and a new kitchen.
Not unsurprisingly our 2020 spending reflects the Covid-19 factor. The breakdown shows that we had less opportunities for experiences and spent more of our money on food in supermarkets and local shops.
Essentials – total £9,833 [38% of total spending] [2019 £7,721 / 35%]
Food – £4,703 [2019 £3,491] – In my experience food prices have increased in 2020 as we haven’t eaten anything different or developed an expensive taste in anything. We will have spent more as we have eaten mostly at home [sitting eating around a friend’s dining table is a distant memory]. We continue to use discount supermarkets for the majority of our shopping and generally cook from scratch.
Utilities, insurance & service charges for a 2-bed 57.2 sq mtrs [615.7 sq feet] bungalow – £4,463 [2019 £3,974] – The various lock downs and restrictive tiers mean who have been home more than ever and so using more gas and electric. Council tax and heating for the bungalow are both more expensive than the flat, but we no longer have service charges to pay. The improvements we have made to bring our bungalow into the 21st century will help save money on utilities.
Our health [including tai chi classes] – £667 [2019 £256] – There has been very little spending on tai chi classes in 2020 and this is mostly some expensive dental work and new specs.
In theory this is the minimum we need to survive a year, although it would be a strange year when we didn’t need / buy some stuff.
Stuff (electronics, newspapers and other kit) – £7,175 [27% of total spending] [2019 £3,151 / 14%]
Household spending [everything from glue, newspapers and books to hiring a sander, plants for the garden and parts for the bikes] – £6,189 [ 2019 £2,300] – Wow! We have clearly had too much time for DIY and nest building this year! In 2019 we were moving house and the only DIY we did was freshening up the paint for the sale of our flat. This is a big category, with furniture, carpet, cushions and pictures on the walls all thrown into it. I am uncomfortable buying stuff and we try and source antiques / junk / second-hand items when this is practical. Bargain purchases this year included an Edwardian What Not [yes really] for a kitchen wall to contrast with the shiny white units for £30, second-hand lined curtains for the large living room window for £25 and some second-hand cushion covers for £5.
Clothes & accessories – £986 [2019 £851] – I have never gone down the route of a clothes buying ban, preferring to stick to buying what I need, as something wears out. Pretty much all the clothes we bought in 2020 were hard-wearing hill walking kit and probably not most people’s idea of clothes shopping. I needed new boots, we bought new waterproof trousers, a fleece, wellies and some comfy walking shoes; these were all replacement items. Where we could we bought second-hand items, for example a men’s winter coat on Ebay was just £24. Even when you buy quality items they don’t last forever but our walking gear gets plenty of wear; my previous boots had walked a lot of miles over six years.
Experiences – £8,226 [31% of total spending] [2019 £10,952 / 48%]
Holidays [our favourite spending line] – £2,834 [2019 £3,601] – The reason for this reduction in our holiday spending in 2020 is obvious and it isn’t because I have lost my wanderlust! In the north-west of England we have had travel restrictions for over six months of the year. We did get away a few times in the first three months of the year before the three months of lock down. We spent July taking trips to the Lake District, got to France in August and [after quarantine] thankfully managed to travel to Scotland in October. We have also paid for a holiday in a self-catering house in Scotland that has been moved to 2021 [fingers crossed].
Restaurants & cafes – £1,309 [2019 £2,418] – Despite using local cafes and restaurants when we can this year and having more takeaways than we would normally do to support local businesses this is much lower than normal. It is not particularly the food I miss, what I have really miss is seeing friends. In a normal year there are two old friends we would meet about eight times a year for drinks and a meal at a cost of about £500. Chatting over Zoom, although cheaper, hasn’t been the same. Interestingly, the reduction in our eating out spending is more or less off-set by the increase in our food spending.
Running the campervan [servicing & insurance etc] – £2,093 [2019 £1,931] – Last year I wondered if our six year old Renault Master was saving up some expensive repairs for 2020. It hasn’t done too badly but needed some essentials like tyres and brakes replacing as well as the usual servicing, insurance and road tax.
Diesel for the above ‘van – £1,227 [2019 £1,500 ] – We certainly haven’t put the miles across Europe on the campervan we would normally do.
Tickets for concerts, football & attractions – £403 [2019 £941] – Well what do you expect as for much of the year nothing was open. Live music is just a distant memory and the last football match we went to was a Morecambe FC match last Christmas. We have supported some arts events by buying tickets for online events and visited some RSPB reserves when we could.
Public transport costs – £360 [2019 £561] – Again, the pandemic effect has kept us at home much of the time.
Giving – £937 [4% of total spending] [2019 £654 / 3%]
Gifts & donations – £937 [2019 £654] – Another discretionary spending line that we try and keep under control but in 2020 we felt a need to be more generous. Many charities needed additional funding as events and places were closed and during the first lock down we sent cheering-up parcels to friends, as well as the usual birthday and Christmas gifts.
TOTAL SPENDING FOR 2020 – £26,171 – Despite all the home-making we have done in 2020, we have stayed within our £27,000 budget.Hurrah!
Over my four years of retirement we have spent an average of £25,351 a year.
Our expenditure doesn’t all come from our savings. As well as my side hustle travel writing income [reduced in 2020 due to Covid-19], in 2020 my small NHS pension began. This is based on my many years of part-time and full-time NHS work and is the equivalent to 12 years NHS service. These both help to reduce what we take from the ever-diminishing savings pot.For me, saving for early retirement was never just about giving up work, it was also about us having the financial resilience to survive whatever ups and downs life threw at us.
There are essentials food [?] items we always carry in our campervan; some bottles of red wine, Scottish oatcakes, Bahlsen Pick Ups, a jar of good pesto and pasta and in the fridge there is always a green square bottle of Jägermeister. This tradition began many years ago after a tour of Eastern Europe. As we travelled through different countries we bought and tasted local herbal liqueurs. The first was a homemade firewater a campsite owner generously shared while we watched the Champions League final in southern Germany. From there we moved through mysterious explosive Hungarian beverages and onto the medicinal yet ambrosial Becherovka from Karlovy Vary.
With practice, we acquired a taste for these liqueurs that remind me of having a spoonful of Venos cough medicine in childhood but with an added kick. As Jägermeister is the most easily available liqueur in the UK, it has become a permanent part of our campervan kit. Today we have even added two dark green Jägermeister shot glasses to our ritual.
Jägermeister have been producing their herbal liqueur since 1878. The result of a family vinegar business branching out, this unique drink made from 56 botanicals and with an ABV of 35% is created in Wolfenbüttel in Germany and in the UK is now widely available thanks to Jägerbombs where Jägermeister is added to an energy drink.
It was seven years ago that I discovered that Melchior produced Jägermeister chocolates while browsing the internet for gifts. They were expensive but we were lucky to receive a box as a Christmas present. They were so rich and scrumptious we have included them on our present list to our son ever since but never had them again.
A strange choice for two vegetarians?
Jägermeister comes in a distinctive dark green bottle that is designed to be sturdy enough to survive being dropped and can fit in a large pocket of a hunting jacket. Jägermeister means master of the hunt, so the drink is an interesting choice for two vegetarians who are anti-hunting. The story goes that the logo comes from the legend of Saint Hubertus. Hubertus was a hunter but one night had a vision of a stag with a glowing cross between its antlers. This vision had a big effect on Hubertus and he became an advocate for a greater respect for nature and the story was chosen as the Jägermeister logo. I like to hang onto the respect for nature aspect of the legend and the almost unbreakable bottle is also perfect for a bumpy ride in a Blue Bus.
We have another connection with Jägermeister. My father-in-law was in the British Army and was stationed in Wolfenbüttel in Lower Saxony in Germany for some years and my partner lived there. We have visited the lovely town since and retain an emotional connection with Wolfenbüttel and its famous distillery.
The Christmas Spirit
Unbeknown to us, Melchior stopped making the boxes of Jägermeister chocolates some years ago. In ignorance, we continued to put it on our wish list. This year our son and daughter-in-law generously rose to the challenge of our Christmas gift list and decided to make their own. The internet is full of Jägermeister truffle recipes and so, with no experience of chocolate making, they piled in with the optimism of youth and created some simply gorgeous chocolates that were all the more mouthwatering because they were made with love for two demanding parents!
However much longer I live on this planet, I don’t think I will be able to say thank you enough times to them for indulging my taste buds and making my heart sing and my waistline bulge with this very special gift.
I am barely conscious before my first cup of tea at the best of times but on a recent camping trip to the Lake District I had to wake up pretty fast. Anthony was still slumbering while I brewed our cuppa. Deciding to warm up some breakfast rolls I pulled out the pots and pans that live inside our campervan’s oven and lit the gas to warm it up. I’m sure we’re not alone with this dual use of our campervan oven, it is both storage space and cooking apparatus.
Sitting enjoying my brew a few minutes later my comatose brain registered a burning smell. Getting up and opening the oven I was horrified to see actual flames! As I turned off the oven and the gas, I realised I must have left the cloth we use to silence appliance-related rattles inside the oven when I had lit it. With flames still curling around the cloth I had to take action and fortunately adrenalin kicked in, over-riding the need for caffeine.
We have a fire extinguisher in our ‘van, but I realised that squirting this into the oven, although effective, would also be messy. We also carry an old but serviceable fire blanket that was discarded by a previous employer as being out of date. Guessing this would be more effective for the small fire I had before me I tried to grab the fire blanket from its hook between the kitchen unit and the van’s back door. Annoyingly it was stuck and I had to grab the ‘van keys and open the back door to free it, a commotion that abruptly woke my sleeping partner [interestingly the burning smell hadn’t woken him]. Trying to stay calm, I pulled the blanket out of its packing, not something I had ever done before, and stuffed it inside the oven, smothering the flames.
After waiting a minute or two and with no sign of further flames, I used the fire blanket to carefully remove the still smouldering cloth and I rolled it up into the fire blanket. We put the bundle outside on our gravel pitch, well enough away from ours or anyone else’s ‘van. Recovering from the shock with another mug of tea, we discussed where else we could store the fire blanket so that it is more easily accessible should there ever be a next time.
The simple fire blanket stopped a stupid mistake becoming a disaster, although our Blue Bus reeked of the burning fires of hell for a few days.
If you are wondering, you may have read a shorter version of this escapade in a recent MMM.
2020 started ordinarily enough. We took our campervan away in January and February to various corners of the UK. In March, as we walked around charming Cheltenham, I noticed that the shops were running out of hand sanitiser and people were buying face masks. When Lock Down One came we were in Scotland and had to race back home to Lancashire feeling sad and frustrated. My pessimistic inner voice mithered inside my head, insisting that this coronavirus wasn’t going to leave our shores without a fight. A pandemic would surely be a long haul and I wasn’t sure I would come out the other end still working as a travel writer.
In March I wrote about these anxious lock down feelings. With no possibility of travel I had little else to write about and sharing my worries helped. Walking and cycling our local paths every day eased the anxiety and helpful and caring readers gave me support after my heartfelt and desperate post when I felt about as useless as one of those proverbial chocolate teapots.
I had planned a busy year of writing in 2020, penciling in more travel articles than ever. So much for plans! With little paid writing through the spring I had more time to spend on blog posts. I have continued to write regularly, although posted less than in 2019. I still prefer to write 600 – 800 word posts that readers don’t have to invest a stack of time ploughing through but in 2020 I have experimented with writing some longer posts. These are designed as detailed guides for an area, particularly for walkers and cyclists. This is information I haven’t had time to arrange and share before and from comments I have received these posts will be useful long-term. As I have got to know the corners of Morecambe and Lancaster I have shared my local knowledge on the blog too.
Since I started this blog five years ago the readers have steadily increased each month. Not surprisingly, there was less interest in a blog that focusses on travel early in the spring of 2020 and views plummeted in March. Readers gradually returned through June and I am quietly relieved that I’m not talking to myself and that the number of views over the year has held steady and reached slightly beyond 2019’s stats. That said, this blog is never about the numbers, what has been fantastic is the lovely comments and feedback I have received from readers, the blog has been a more interactive space in 2020 and with much less contact with actual people through the year this has been important.
My other blog, Memorial Bench Stories, has had its best year ever! This is nothing to do with people being drawn to my writing, it is the power of the media. The blog and I were featured on Radio 4 in a piece about memorial benches in January and this directed new readers to that blog. I have been recording memorial benches that catch my eye since 2012 and that blog continues to be driven by respect and sympathy, the media interest won’t go to my head!
While I have been writing for MMM for many years, in the last couple of years I have also been paid for writing for Campervan Magazine. Looking back, in 2019 I wrote 16 articles for these two wonderful magazines, whereas in 2020 I have only managed to pull together nine [and four of those were pre-Covid-19 trips]. There is always a time-lag between my completion and submission of an article and publication so I have still seen quite a few articles published in 2020, although about four less than expected. Peering into my 2021 crystal ball it is clear that this side hustle income will not recover to 2019 levels at least in the medium-term.
2020 laid on many surprises but an exciting one was being asked to contribute to a book of world-wide cycling routes by a large international publisher. Writing for a book, rather than a magazine, was an interesting learning experience for me and I felt out of my depth at times trying to understand their lingo and ways of working. Although it only paid a similar amount to writing for magazines and so won’t make me rich, you can’t put a price on a new experience. The editing process distracted me through lock down, as my copy pinged to-and-fro between me and the editor, who ‘marked’ my writing with a big red pen [otherwise known as track changes]. This felt like being back at school and was often frustrating, particularly when I was being asked to change something back to the way it was the first time! I gritted my teeth and accepted the challenge. Unlike in a magazine, I also got the chance to proofread and comment on the final page layout, including the photographs chosen.
For the past six years most of my free time [in between campervan holidays and seeing friends] has been spent researching and planning the next trip, writing travel articles and blog posts and editing photographs. 2020 has given me more free time than I have ever had before. I haven’t learnt how to play the saxophone or become fluent in German in that time but I have read a lot [over 50 books] and got stuck into a lot of DIY and gardening. 2020 has given me the chance to experience proper retirement!
There is now news of the first vaccines, hints about rapid tests and I am starting to get hopeful that the freedom to travel will once again be something we can take for granted by the summer of 2021. I am hesitant to plan or book anything yet but I truly hope we will get to visit mainland Europe again. If not, I hope I will be allowed to find joy exploring the UK in our campervan. My fascination in uncovering interesting stories and histories and finding beauty in unlikely places hasn’t diminished but I’m still not sure if my short travel writing career will survive this interruption.
For over a decade, visiting the incredible Manchester Christmas Market has been an autumnal household tradition. Before we lived in Greater Manchester we would take the train into Manchester for a special day out. Once we lived in Salford, we would walk across the Irwell and potter around the market a number of times, usually starting with the opening day. The Christmas Market was always my number one choice to meet friends and soak up some festive atmosphere.
A mug of gluhwein isn’t cheap, so we will save some money this year but I will miss standing in the cold, people milling around me, my gloved hands wrapped around a mug of steaming hot gluhwein. The warming spicy wine is something that tastes best drunk outside surrounded by Christmas, it just doesn’t taste the same drunk at home. Part of the fun of drinking my gluhwein is having Rudolph, the festive singing reindeer, belting out Christmas songs above my head and Manchester’s Gothic town hall looking magnificent across the square.
On a weekday morning I would be one of the first visitors to the Christmas Market, taking the chance to browse the stalls and maybe even buy something. But mostly Manchester’s Christmas Market is about the food and drink. For a mid-morning snack I might buy a bag of warm, spicy nuts to nibble before finding a seat and treating myself to an alcoholic hot chocolate from the French stall on charming King Street. It is the next best thing to being in Paris.
In the afternoons, before the after-work rush, we will arrange to meet friends for gluhwein. After years of research I have found that the gluhwein varies across the many stalls and our favourite has become the drink from what we call the Rudolph stall. This stall always has prime position in Albert Square, provides malted milk biscuits to soak up your gluhwein and has the singing reindeer head above the counter. Their gluhwein isn’t too sweet and sickly, it tastes of alcohol and provides the much-anticipated inner glow. While I am happy with straight gluhwein, my partner likes to add rum to his gluhwein for that extra kick!
Before all the building work began we would often meet friends in the Alpine hut complex on Brazennose Street, for some reason always a quiet corner of the market even in the evenings. The crowds flock to Albert Square for the lights and conviviality and by contrast, Brazennose Street always had seats and even shelter, useful if rain was threatening. It was also quiet enough to facilitate talking without shouting. Unfortunately, this cosy spot served gluhwein so sweet it was like sipping hot Vimto, rather than anything alcoholic. This always fooled my brain into thinking it was harmless and I would find myself getting up for more refills than I should!
As the evening progressed all that gluhwein would make me hungry and I would head for the Bavarian käsespätzle stall in Albert Square. The glum owner was never happy to be in Manchester; while we waited for a new batch of käsespätzle to be cooked he would often complain about the high cost of his stall, the poor facilities and how much he missed home. He returned year after year so the trip must have made financial sense and eating a plateful of his delicious German version of macaroni cheese transported me right back to Germany where this dish is often the only vegetarian option on a menu.
It has been decided to cancel the Christmas Market in Manchester this year due to coronavirus. Certainly social distancing is all but impossible on a busy evening on the market. It is just another part of my life and year that has been taken away and I will really miss it. I will just have to keep watching and re-watching the beautiful Lego version in the video below.
Lock Down Two gave me a bit of time to look back on our happy campervan years. I would describe myself as a campervan enthusiast rather than expert, so I was surprised when we realised that we had now owned a campervan for 15 years. We still have plenty to learn about the art of owning a house on wheels but, after so long, we must know more than we did back in 2005 when we were campervan virgins. In that 15 years three different campervans have captured my heart and joined us on our holidays. Each one has been blue and each one slightly longer in length than the last. In those 15 years we have put 1,319 camping nights under our belts, staying on over 700 different campsites and other overnight spots.
Owning a campervan was a dream for me from being a young teenager. It remained on my wish list for many years, as even second-hand they are an expensive purchase. I was in my 40s before we were in a secure enough financial position to buy our first campervan and even then we had to re-mortgage the house to buy a second-hand six year old ‘van! This first campervan was blue and somehow that felt right and set the trend for the following two.
We were nervous choosing that first ‘van, not really having a clue what we were doing. We spent many fun-filled hours looking around motorhome sales areas in the north-west before eventually buying from Todds, near our home in Preston. The discreet expertise of the Todd’s staff reassured us as we took a deep breath and parted with our cash. After viewing campervans with a variety of layouts and lengths, some with bathrooms, some without, we decided to keep it simple and chose a reliable Volkswagen with a straightforward layout. It was a short-wheel base VW T4 with a high top and a traditional rock ‘n’ roll bed and side kitchen. We knew this first ‘van was a testing-the-water sort of purchase, rather than a forever campervan and it gave us the chance to see if vanlife would live up to our expectations.
We took this first ‘van to Scotland, of course, around England and to Germany. Quite quickly we bought a driveaway awning to give us a bit more space and the ‘van transformed our festival experience when we spent the weekend at the Hurricane Festival in northern Germany. Having our very own home on wheels to escape to and relax in, away from the bustle of the festival, was heavenly.
We learnt a lot owning that first ‘van and never regretted starting with a simple conversion. We didn’t have to get into the intricacies of water heaters, refillable gas cylinders and complex bed making. All these things would have obscured the pure excitement of being campervan owners. The VW allowed us to make mistakes, read more about owning a ‘van and talk to other campers, learning at our own pace.
We returned from a trip to Salisbury in Blue Bus One with a more practical understanding of campervan electrics. It was February and we didn’t have a hook-up. With temperatures below zero the blown air heating was keeping us warm and toasty as we played cards into the evening. Everything was fine until the leisure battery ran out of juice! Even wearing layers and cuddling under the duvet we had a cold night. This particular mistake taught us that for winter camping we needed a diesel or gas heater, we also learnt that the hassle of putting an awning up and down wasn’t for us and that the freedom to travel where we wanted suited us very well.
Despite the lessons learnt, we were still really campervan rookies when just 18 months later we were buying a brand new Sundowner direct from Devon Conversion. Our knowledge had moved on, we were clearer about what we wanted and had a spreadsheet of essentials and nice-to-have features. We stayed with the reliable VW but this time picked a long-wheel base, needing a bigger loan on our mortgage! By now our plan for travelling for 12 months around Europe had begun to hatch and this ‘van was purchased with that trip in mind.
Our first trip in Blue Bus Two was a tour around Poland and the following year a campsite owner in France said, ‘You are the people in the Blue Bus,’ and the name stuck. We travelled 80,000 in our second campervan, from Poland to Portugal and Slovenia to Spain and we spent 678 nights sleeping in its comfy beds and living under its roof. So many memories are tied up with that ‘van, it is no surprise I wept the day we said goodbye to it! I hope whoever owns it now showers it with even half as much affection.
The Sundowner was only 5.3m long but its clever layout made great use of the small space, with no bathroom but a toilet. At the time having four travel seats was essential as our son and daughter-in-law often needed a lift and this limited our choice of layout. By the time we bought our third ‘van they were more independent meaning this wasn’t an issue and we could upgrade to a ‘proper’ ‘van with a bathroom.
We had taken the VW T5 as large as we could, so we had to look for a different base van for Blue Bus Three. Both of our VW campervans are still on the road somewhere, a testament to the reliability of the T4 and T5 and we always look out for them when we are on the road in the hope that we will have a reunion one day. The elegant shape of the VW limits what can be fitted inside, although there are conversions with bathrooms. After plenty of consideration and more lists we decided to move onto a French classic, the Renault Master.
By now, with ten years of living the campervanning dream under our belt we thought we knew what we were doing. We have nothing but praise for the conversions Devon produce at a reasonable price and we like dealing with a small converter that is willing to offer some flexibility on their standard layouts. Other converters were considered and we spent an exhausting day at one of the motorhome shows, climbing in and out of different ‘vans, sitting in them and talking to the sales people. We spent evenings pouring over a spreadsheet, considering the pros and cons of different options before deciding on a Devon Tempest. We were certain we didn’t want to go large and the Devon Tempest gave us a 5.4 m long ‘van with a layout we were confident we could live in.
Our Renault Master seems enormous to us. We have now owned it for five years and have been regularly grateful for the bathroom, but in 2020 it really came into its own. The Tempest was also our first experience of a side sofa with a view out of the sliding door, a feature that we really love. The big Renault sliding door lets the sun in and even on cooler days we can sit in the shelter of the ‘van and be cosy on the sofa.
A big part of the joy of owning a campervan is the people you meet on the road. During our year travelling around Europe we met many fantastic people, some of which have remained friends. Having owned two Devon Conversions campervans we have been a part of the Devon Motorhomes Owners Group on Facebook [and initially on Yahoo Groups] from the beginning. If you have a negative opinion of Facebook I don’t blame you, even the most harmless posts can unexpectedly veer off into a negative direction very quickly, but the Devon Owners group is a refreshing exception. Everyone is friendly, polite, helpful and the group makes having a Facebook account worthwhile. As well as virtual conversations, the Devon Owners generally have two or three meet ups a year, always sociable and fun occasions and thanks to our campervan we have made some good friends.
We have now spent over 600 nights in Blue Bus Three. It has had its problems but has taken us to Greece and Germany, Croatia and Shetland and we have no plans to change it. With the proposals to phase out diesel and petrol engines I wonder if Blue Bus Four will be all electric.