Almost Ready

A few days later Paul and I,  our younger son and our two faithful hounds prepared for the off.  We were to lead the way, towing the caravan, I was to navigate, and our son was to follow behind in a second car.  Thus our mini convoy rolled out on the first leg of the journey to West Sussex.  We were in high spirits as we trundled out of Wales, over the Old Severn Bridge and into England. 

We stopped over night with family in Storrington and the next morning, feeling re-energized, we set off again heading for Folkestone and the Channel Tunnel.  Here all went extremely well, the dogs’ Pet Passports were hardly required. The “crossing” was remarkably painless, considering how concerned I had been about feeling claustrophobic during the subterranean train journey.

Entering Channel Tunnel Train Carriage

However, as we emerged on the other side of “La Manche” we found that the French weather was set against us, as the rain lashed down while we struggled to fit headlamp converters to the cars whilst endeavouring to shelter under numerous jackets and coats. Foolishly we realised that it would have been so much easier to have done this task during the boring but dry train journey. With window-wipers vigorously swishing back and forth onwards then into Belgium, to the Flemish city of Ghent, where we spent the first night of our journey in our compact caravan home in a distinctly damp campsite near the waterway at Blaarmeersen. 

The next day as we progressed on our journey, we were buffeted by mischievous side winds which made towing the caravan something of a challenge. As we traversed the seemingly endless flatlands, we saw signposts to some of the renowned Battlefields of the First World War. It seemed incredulous that this now peaceful pastoral landscape had once been a quagmire of muddy trenches, a site of horrific slaughter and carnage, where countless good young men had been savagely cut down in their prime.

* Alsace

We entered the Wallonia region of Belgium before heading south, through the wooded hills of the uplands of Luxembourg. Finally we reached the Alsace region in situated in the north eastern corner of France, where the blend of French and German heritage was very apparent. We opted to take a slight detour towards Colmar, wandering through the charming verdant countryside passing small farmsteads, vineyards and blossoming orchards along the way.

Then on to the small city of Mullhouse, on the Rhine, near to the German frontier. Locating this campsite proved to be tricky, as we found our convoy repeatedly circumnavigating the bustling town centre desperately looking for campsite signposts. Eventually we parked up near the train station and were fortunate to be rescued by the owner, who sportingly came out in search of us and kindly escorted us to his premises.

* Alsace (www.all-freephotos.com)

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~