French villages: spoilt by road tolls
Toilets and water locked off
during lockdown
Local produce still for sale in Pissos
Wonderful French strawberries
White French asparagus - delicious
Day 10 - Hernani (Spain) to Pissos (France)
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We sleep well despite the industrial nature of the area de autocaravanas at Hernani. Around us people turn up for work at 8.00 am.
We service the camper but cannot fill with water as there is only one water tap that is also used to wash out the toilet cassettes! The thought of the water from this tap that has been inserted into the neck of toilet cassettes and then flowing into our drinking water tank is not acceptable.
Next, we fill with diesel at the garage in Hernani; then drive to Irun to call at Mercadona (on the border between Spain and France). At Mercadona there are Guarda supervising the incoming and outgoing shoppers. Staff are wearing gloves and masks and there is a hushed atmosphere everywhere as people focus on shopping and avoiding human contact of any kind. There is no fresh unpackaged food, only pre-packaged everything, including fresh meat, serrano ham and cheeses. We stock up on fresh milk, fruit and vegetables and find Freixinet Cava for our Golden Wedding celebrations leter this year, we buy 12 bottles (and hope we will still be able to use it for the party, if not it will not go to waste in our house!).
From Irun we cross the border (the river Bidasoa) into France. There are about six Guarda stopping every vehicle leaving Spain and entering France. They question all of those in front of us intently, quizzing a young man on a moped for a while. They wave us through, no problem, as we have a GB number plate and are clearly heading north to a crossing point to the UK. All the others must have a good reason for their journey especially for entering France, most are turned back.
Traffic coming in the other direction and entering Spain is similarly questioned by the Spanish police who are on the bridge with their police cars parked in such a way that there is no easy way through. It would be difficult to jump this road block.
We decide not to take the toll road (A-63) so take the D810 north through the town of Biarritz (which is deserted) and Bayonne. The road is interesting to drive along but so slow, through town after town with many sets of traffic lights and 30 kph speed limits with hideous speed bumps (next time the toll road would be the better option).
We stop for lunch on a level, tarmac area behind the church at St Andre de Seignanx, it is a quiet haven overlooking a small valley, apart from a young man in an old camper with a bike and skateboard who plays music! Back on our way after lunch on the D817, this is a good standard of road and much faster, we make good time to Dax. North again to Castets and then the A-63 where we make excellent time to Liposthey, where we turn east on D43 to the small village of Pissos, our stop for the night.
Pissos is a tiny village in the middle of nowhere (well the middle of the Landes de Gascoyne regional park). However, it is what we call a ‘truck-run’, where the trucks avoid a small section of toll road on the E-70. Monstrous trucks stop at the crossroads in the centre of this tiny village to loop back onto the E-70 a few kilometers further on. Alan thinks the French are mad to have so many toll roads because the eventual cost is still paid by everyone through tolls when they use the roads, and increased distribution costs that put up the price of goods and services. Small villages like Pissos have an endless procession of 40 ton juggernauts passing through then have to spend money on traffic calming and fixing the roads. However the French government takes VAT on the road tolls so it's unlikely to change the system. Joseph de Maistre said that in a democracy people get the government they deserve.
We find the Aire de Camping Cars behind the church and park up on a large, flat gravel area. We are the third motorhome to arrive. We stop a moment and think of my good friend Elaine (and her husband Richard), it is Elaine's cremation today at 3.30pm UK time, at Beetham (near Milnthorpe) for family only because of the coronavirus.
The virus has change everything.
The afternoon is warm and sunny, 20˚C with the birds singing and everything looks the same (but it’s not). We walk to the crossroads, busy with trucks onwards with their loads, forever onwards, moving food, liquids and goods to keep us all supplied. I silently thank the truck drivers for keeping us all supplied and in effect, keeping us all going. Everything is closed, except a small corner shop, even the boulangerie where someone has smashed the plate-glass shop door.
We call in the church, which is open, cold and without much atmosphere, some churches just don’t seem to have God in there at all. We inspect our surroundings. We are not pleased to find that the toilets have been locked off and taped with red and white danger-tape. So has the only water tap which has been fitted with a special-purpose padlock to prevent water from being drawn. There are no other facilities and we need fresh water. There might be no God in the church but He is definitely outside. Gill takes a rather strange and circuitous route back to our camper and stops at the back of the church. There, hidden in the long grass, is a water tap...and it works! We are not sure why it would be here as there are no graves, no plants to water, just rough grass at the back of the church. We offer another prayer for the much needed provision of clean water.
We have tea of crevette (large prawns) with white wine. Gill cooks minced beef and makes meatballs in chilli sauce. There are fresh strawberries for dessert. We might be isolated and far from home, but in our camper bubble we eat like kings (and queens)! By 7.00 pm there are seven motorhomes parked up on the aire de camping cars: two campers from the UK (including us), German, Dutch, Belgian and two French. There is lots of space so it is easy to practise social distancing. We sit out, well spaced, in the warm sunshine and under the hourly chiming of the church bells, tolling the number for each hour. The passing of time counted and the ever-onwards movement forward towards an unknown future.
We feel the movement of time very much on this trip. People sit out, in their various spaces, chat and drink wine, catch up on the news…not the national news but update each other on the local travel situation in French or German or English (or a mix of all three). Someone says he has heard that the Guarda would not let motorists exit the motorways, they had to keep driving. Everything changes from place to place and hour to hour, most of what you hear is hearsay and has no substance to it.
The evening is warm until the sun sets behind the village and in the dusk we use the watering can to refill the fresh water tank. We reflect on another day nearer our destination of Caen (or so we think...)..
Summary of motorhome journey
Total miles |
mpg | average speed mph |
hours driven |
121 | 30.5 | 31 | 3:52 |
Totals for this journey |
|||
1257 | 27.9 | 34 | 36:24 |