is there poodle in my noodle

The Côte d’Azur has provided a very welcome moment of quiet after getting embroiled in Spain’s five-day national Easter break, when hundreds of folk rush to the mountains to access the below-the-snow-line walks with the family.

We spent two splendid nights in hilltop towns, the first sampling the local brandy in a bar frequented by the Spanish mullet brigade, with obligatory dog on a string. By 10pm we had intricately planned a ridiculous 12-hour expedition involving crampons, ice axes and vertical drops into the valley of 600 metres.

By 6am the next morning and with sore heads the ambitious and potentially suicidal plan had been downgraded, and off we set up the valley floor from Torla to find a waterfall.

When we hit sheet ice on steep slopes I regretted not bringing winter gear, but my fears were allayed when kids and grannies motored past us wearing Adidas. I have come to believe that the UK takes health and safety much more seriously than anywhere else on the globe.

The walk was glorious; about 10 miles, gaining elevation all the way; from alpine forests at the base, up to a snowy plateau in the deep valley flanked by vertical cliffs of more than 500 metres high.

The region was madly busy and the carpark tip to toe with campers, so we hotfooted to the French Med coast as quickly as possible; through the Pyrenees and straight across to the south coast of France. As we winded through the countryside with the ‘no tolls’ option set on Googlemaps, we spent hours amongst French vineyards, rolling green fields, swathes of swaying oilseed rape, medieval hill top towns, and the backdrop the the snow-capped pyrenees.

France, it turns out, is comparitively expensive to Spain, especially for fuel; a litre in some garages was priced at €2.45 a litre (£2.14)!! Luckily this is offset by Côte du Rhone red wine, a snip at €1.99 a bottle in Lidl.

What with #vanlife getting hijacked by retirees who flock to southern France for winter sun in their huge motorhomes, the area understandably isn’t so camper-friendly for campsite dodgers, and finding a parking spot without a 2-metre height barrier proved a problem. So we decided to give a nudist campsite a go and see what happened. Long and short of it is that Jem will now refuse to go anywhere his balls can’t sway in the breeze. Happily I don’t think that will be a problem in France.

So for the next few days we are going to enjoy the view and get in the sea. The van still needs fixing but we think it can wait another few days.

Thinking of our compadres battling Storm Dave 👊 much love, lu and jem x