Summer of War II

Bessie’s first trip to Europe was always destined to be France,  Colin and I are both confirmed Francophiles and being unsure of the roads or how the van would handle on the other side we thought Normandy was a good bet.

Apple Orchard

Once the destination was decided my expectations were simple.   Sample again the delights of France and see the Bayeux Tapestry.  Picardy would be a bonus, but I am ashamed at my poor French geography.  I had no idea Bayeux was close to the D Day landing beaches and that Bayeux was the first city of the Battle of Normandy to be liberated. 

Road to Rouen

 The ferry sailed from Portsmouth to Le Harve, and on the way south we stopped off in Jumièges, a little town in an almost peninsula on the Boucles de la Seine (The Buckles), where the Seine makes its final snake and wind before emptying into the Channel.

We booked into the excellent Camping de la Base Loisirs for two nights. We loved cycling round the quiet roads, through apple and plum orchards and watching the little ferries (bacs) cross back and forth on the Seine as part of the road network so we stayed another night.

The town of Jumièges boasts a cathedral with links to William the Conqueror, and although it is a ruin it attracts some interest, but the buckles are a detour so the town was quiet.  One evening we ate in a small bar on the cycle back to the camp site.  The owner was a cheery lady with few teeth and a walk with a hobble. She spoke no English but corrected our bad French with zeal. She impressed on us the delights of pomme de terre à la maison and what she brought us to accompany the steak was the best chips I've tasted since my mum threw out her chip pan.

Bayeux

But Calvados beckoned and after a short stay in a very busy, Brit filled site at Le Brévedent, where the kids seemed to be competing in 'who is the loudest brat competition', we headed for Bayeux. 

The Municipal site on the edge of town was spacious and the pretty town was only a river path cycle ride away.  The weather had been hot and sunny so far but the wind picked up and ominous clouds gathered so it was no hardship to head for the museum and the Tapestry.

River Cycle

The Bayeux Tapestry is actually an embroidery, thought to be commissioned around  the year 1070 and is over seventy metres in length. It depicts the history of William the Conqueror's claim to the English throne culminating at the battle of Hastings.  The regimented visit snaked along a queue rope with the rest of the tourists after being handed an audio just before entry to a darkly lighted room that held the tapestry.  This audio is supposed to aid your progress, describing each panel as it came into view, but the plumby English commentator races through the story and only tells the half of it. On each panel there is the main action but along the bottom sub plots emerge, some are quite pornographic in nature, this is ignored and after only ten minutes we were back where we started feeling slightly cheated. It is possible to go back before leaving the gloom but I was blinking in daylight before I knew it and it was then too late.

Caen Graffiti

The next day it poured so we took the train to Caen. Although known for being the City of William the Conqueror it also featured heavily in the Battle of Normandy and huge parts of it were destroyed during that time. The Château de Caen is well worth a visit, with ruined battlements for clambering over and liberal pieces of artwork to view. There is a fine memorial there for the soldiers lost in the liberation.

Caen Liberation Memorial

Back in Bayeux I was determined not to leave before paying my respects to the three thousand plus service men and women buried and remembered in the British Commonwealth War Cemetery. It was moving and I felt a real sense of gratitude to them. I feel the French do too. The liberating allies were celebrated everywhere in the region. 

Bayeux British War Cemetery

We left Bayeux in a squall and headed for the landing beaches, Omaha beach was a blur of high waves and flapping flag poles – we didn't stop. The weather had improved when we reached Pointe du Hoc the highest point between Omaha beach and Utah beach, where US Army Rangers climbed the cliffs and captured the position. And by the time we reached Utah Beach the sun was out. Although busy with tourists the beach was quiet.   Someone had laid a cellophane wrapped bunch of yellow roses randomly on the beach -a touching gesture and yet for me this wasn't a sentimental journey.  With the exception of my uncle who was lost in Italy, I have no connection to WWII. Maybe it was the John Wayne effect.

Looking out from battlements, Pointe Du Hoc

We travelled north from there to the little commune of StVaast de la Hougue.  Famed for its oysters and its twin Vauban forts this was a must destination. For some reason I love Vauban forts. I suspect it is their location round the fringes of France that attracts me rather than their architecture although that is pretty impressive too.

Tatihou, island fortress

Vauban is France’s most famous military architect.  He designed and built forts during the reign of Louis XIV making Frances borders more secure.   The twin forts at St Vaast were for keeping the English at bay.

La Hougue, land fortress

I first encountered Vauban in 2012 when visiting the fortification of Mont Dauphine and then again in 2013 when on a trip to The Alps we spent some time in Briançon where there is a fantastic example of his forts. None of this Vauban bagging was intended it just happened. So I now wonder which fort I will stumble upon next year.

I started the holiday with one war based novel and finished it with another – Dr Zhivago.  This epic begins in WWI and ends with the Russia Revolution.  Again not an intentional choice but a bargain book that subliminally made it into my hand.  In the windswept sunshine of Normandy reading of the cold harsh weather in Siberia somehow did not feel strange.

Cool Camping and Cycling

I am going to start this blog with the book review. A couple of weeks ago I read The Living Mountain by Nan Shepherd, a wilderness and travel book about the Cairngorm Mountain range.

The beauty of this book, apart from the wonderful language used by Shepherd, is the fact that the book was written in 1944, not published until 1977 and yet it is still relevant today. As a keen walker Shepherd tramped these hills and absorbed their essence. I have been in the Cairngorms many times but after reading The Living Mountain I yearned to go back, I felt I had not given them the attention they deserved. So with this in mind we set off up the A9 one Friday night heading for Rothiemurchus.



 One of the optional extra we had fitted to Bessie was a bike rack and up until now it had never been tested. The Cairngorms are perfect for biking so what’s stopping us.

 Rothiemurchus campsite is just two miles outside Aviemore. I phone ahead and booked a pitch and was glad I did because we got the last one and they were turning vans away at the gate. The site is set in the old Caledonian pine forest with pitches located in nooks and crannies giving the impression of exclusivity to the woods. The park felt secure with kids cycling their bikes round the one way system and a burn gurgling over a small rise just by our pitch. The toilets and showers, accessed by key fob, were in pristine condition. In the morning as we ate breakfast al fresco, the site owner offered us another, better pitch; he had an early leaver, but we were settled and decided to stay put. We set off mid-morning, cycling the track from the campsite. Not far from the site the track splits. The left fork leads to Lairig Ghru and the right through Glen Einich to Loch Einich. We chose the path to the right.

my abandoned bike

 Colin had downloaded a geocaching app to his phone to try and we had fun finding a cache before we even got beyond shouting distance from the camp site (more about geocaching in later posts).

The track through the forest was well made. I felt exhilarated as I always do when amongst the ancient Scots pine, and a little sad at the thought that once this land was covered in this forest and now there are only a few patches scattered over the Highlands. As we left the trees behind the track grew rougher and my sightseeing was over as I wobbled, skitted and watched for every bump, stone, rubble and root to avoid. I’m a rubbish cyclist and helmetless so we ditched the bikes and walked at a relaxed pace. My wimp-out decision was vindicated when round the next bend we witnessed a young girl fly off her bike onto the rubble, she was OK but her bloody knees and arms needed attending to.

One of the river crossings

 The track led into a basin where bulking hill rose out of the loch at the base. At a river crossing we met three cyclists with skis strapped to their backs. They pointed to the west face of Braeriach, to three small tongues of snow on an otherwise bare hillside. ‘Tom, Dick and Harry,’ one skier explained. ‘Great spring snow, you’ll see our track on Harry and the jump I made.’ He was so happy he didn’t seem to mind his bike skidding and adding a paddle to his day’s activities.


At the loch side as we ate our picnic of dragon’s eggs and homemade Flapjack I tried to imagine Nan enjoying the same scene, the same tranquillity all those years ago. There was no pollution here, no wind turbines and no ski tows. Earlier we detected a geocache somewhere in the area, but had no telephone reception to find it! Yellow algae swilled at the shore side, flowers sprouted through the pebbles. My latest addition to the van was a Collins Flower Book, I took photos and later identified the species back at the van as, Dog violet, Lady’s Mantel and Colt’s Foot.  It was hard to believe that just over the mountain was the ski centre.

The walk back revealed the full expanse of the Rothiemurchus forest and I was happy to know I would be safe under its canopy for another night.


The soundtrack for this trip was the movie soundtrack for O Brother Where Art Thou. I could lie and say I chose this because it is the story of three men's bid for freedom and the Cairngorms is the place where I feel free. But the truth is I pick the CD up for £3 from the supermarket when I stocked up for the trip. And what a find it is. As well as the famous theme I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow, there are old folk classic like Big Rock Candy Mountain and You Are My Sunshine with crystal clear performances from among others Gillian Welch, Alison Krauss, Emmylou and The Fairfield Four.
It might not have much to do with Rothiemurchus but its foot tapping rollocks will always remind me of this trip.

Loch Einich