The Tour Resumes - 26 July

At Chezery-Forens - Saturday 26 to Wednesday 29 July

With our second family breaks finishing on Sat 26 July, Annie and Joanne flew home from Geneva and M2 flew back in. Both had had good times and were able to swap yarns on the drive out of Geneva to Chezery. Arrival was late - about 10.00pm - but the bar was humming with a mix of campers and local people amiably served by Philippe and his wife Anique. Needing a beer or two, we fell in with Marc-Antoine and Freddy who were pretty well oiled on Rickard but were in genial mood having been the victors in the petanque contest. Lots of bad French from us and bad English from them didn't seem to do Anglo/French relations anything but good but we extricated ourselves in good time to enjoy some instant grub of pate en croute, bulgar wheat and a glass of red wine which had survived the intermediate week well. Late to bed but in a good mood, despite the new separation from our families, and raring to get on and enjoy this lovely valley again - an easy and readily agreed decision. Why had we come back here so readily? The valley is quite beautiful, peaceful and unspoilt. The village is on the plain side which has ensured that it has not fallen too easily into the tourist trap. The people are friendly, helpful and there is a most excellent restaurant serving good, appetising home-cooked food at a very reasonable price - and within just 300m of the campsite. We felt at home in this place which the locals so clearly love; here are a few verses of a song (to an unknown tune) which sums things up perfectly:

Valse . . . Valserine

La bas, la haut

Dans le vent des alpages

De ma vallee c'est le berceau

Un torrent clair au pays des nuages

Jaillit du ciel, la bas, la haut

Valse, valse ma Valserine

J'ecoute ton clair gazouillis

Autour d'elles sonnez clarines

C'est le chant de mon pays

O ma vallee la plus verte du monde

Ma Valserine au nom dansant

C'est dans son calme et ta douceure profonde

Que je voudraisvivre cent ans

Valse, valse ma Valserine

J'ecoute ton clair gazouillis

Autour d'elles sonnez clarines

C'est le chant de Chezery

Having relocated our parking place on Sunday morning, we set off aiming to complete a good walk. There was a splendid, simple publication listing 10 'randonnees' or 'balades' and we chose to walk Le Gralet, a climb of about 850m. We cycled the first couple of miles, chained the bikes to a tree and started climbing. This was unremitting stuff and easily at 30% through the heavily wooded slopes of the East side of the valley. We puffed and panted our way up with M2 in the lead (he climbs well) needing ever more frequent breathers and with M2 doing his best to follow. Eventually, we came out onto a flatter pasturage area which provided a most welcome lunch spot. Refreshed, we reexamined the routes and saw that there was a circular route 'Le Balcon de Leman' which involved further climbing but a spectacular path on the very crest of the ridge close to the much admired 'trou' to a high point at Le Reculet at 1719m. It was a most beautiful, clear day and to the east we had majestic views across Geneva, the lake, the Rhone with a snow capped Mont Blanc dominating everything. Brilliant stuff although we were not alone as there were several randonneurs met along the route including one solitary, bandanna wearing elf like girl sitting cross legged with a very straight back having her lunch very close to the suicidal edge of le trou! This was a pretty strenuous six hour trek back to the bikes but the easy woosh of the bike descent was exhilarating especially as it took us quickly to a couple of well earned 'serieux' beers. What a great start to the latest phase of the tour! Hungry and self satisfied, we had a most excellent dinner with the Famille Blanc and resolved to stay here for a few more days. We loved it that much.

On Monday, M1 rode up the valley early to Mijoux and a cash machine to top up the ready funds. Another walk beckoned, a shorter flatter one this time of about 2.5 hours to Le Pont de Diable a picturesque spot with the Valserine flowing energetically underneath. Rain threatened so we chose not to extend the walk. On the way back on the west side of the valley, we were lucky enough to glimpse two deer (chamois?) before they bounded out of sight into the hunting reserve. Shortly after, we stumbled unexpectedly on a magnificent gorge and sat perched high up for our normal sandwich lunch. There is so much to see and Nature can inspire awe and humble us so easily. Another excellent evening meal with the Famille Blanc with the main course this time a succulent fillet of veal. They ring the changes every day.

Tuesday arrived bright and clear along with another opportunity for a longer walk, this time on the west side to Cret de Chalam. Again this was unapologetically steep but mostly through the beech and fir trees which grow almost to the very top of the Jura. After heavy overnight rain, the going was sometimes treacherous with more exposed clay among the limestone than we had been aware of before. We made reasonable progress even overtaking a forester who was carrying a large back pack and a chain saw in one hand and two cans of fuel in the other! The later stages were through some wet, thigh high pasture which was somewhat uncomfortable before reaching the final steep haul up to the summit. There were wooden steps for some of this but, if anything, they made the climb more awkward and broke the previous rhythm. There were two other groups at the top, one pair a pleasant older couple from Annecy with whom we exchanged pleasantries. On arrival, we were pretty hot and sweaty whereas they looked cool and dry - how had they done that? Well, they had taken a much shorter route from the other side but even so it was a steep and awkward haul as we discovered on the way down. Our lunch stop was at 'La Borne au Lion' where there was quite a sophisticated and well looked after picnic area. The surprise was that there were about a dozen fully armed members of the Gendarmerie there enjoying their lunch with wine - one of the girls looked no older than 18 or so. Perhaps a training day - but in what? More interesting were the tributes to the Maquis, as this had been a centre of the Resistance, a memorial to an English surgeon 'Parker' and varios other tributes - all very well maintained. It was only in the last few days that we had learned that Chezery had been exactly on the boundary established by the occupying German forces in WWII with the village split at the bridge so part was in occupied territory and the other in Free France - hence the strong support for the Maquis and the Resistance. In every village and town, there are well tended and dignified memorials to those who gave their lives in 1944 for the Maquis. More reading to be done here as well as to find out more about Parker. Even more surprising, 'Le Borne au Lion' dated back to the very early 17th Century when a line of marker stones bearing a lion and the fleur de lys were placed to mark the boundary with Spain! Tonight's dish of the day with Famille Blanc was wonderfully tender gigot d'agneau. We are being thoroughly spoiled. By the way, we have discovered that there is a third sister - Carine (the eldest) who is front of house, Josette (the most glamorous of three very attractive ladies) who is the butcher and Catherine, the chef. What a family! but it is so interesting that they are still in the village working together to manage their family business.

With some reluctance, we decided to move on. M1 after a pretty tough bike ride down the valley through Champfromier then back up the other side through the small skiing resort of Menthieres - a route which is part of the Tour de l'Ain in August for the professionals. M2 meanwhile has re-discovered a love of running and he ran up the valley to Moulins Thomas and back before having time to sort out the very welcome breakfast. Farewells said to Phillippe and Anique, we set off for Annecy at about midday. This put us squarely back into a much busier area with plenty of traffic. lakeside was out of the question so we found a good site in a farm near the Col de Bluffy. We won't stay here long though - just long enough for M1 to ride round the lake in the morning following the Tour de France 'Contre la Montre' time trial route. Then we'll pack our bags and head for Italy.

Friday 17 July - At Chezeny-Forens

At 9.00am, at least it's stopped raining but low cloud is scudding about and the temperature is just 16C compared to 35C yesterday afternoon! There will be nothing much to report today which will be devoted to drying various things out, packing the van for an early departure tomorrow to the airport and, if the weather allows, a bike ride. Frustratingly, the Orange internet connection has tripped off part way through loading photos even though I have successfully topped up the payment.

It has been a terrific last two weeks with wonderful places visited, people met and communities in action. Portugal and Spain were fascinating in their own ways but there is no doubt that France has our vote for the majesty of its scenery and natural features, its inspiring food, wonderful wines and general sense of settled well being - at least in the places we have visited.

The blog will stop here to resume on Sunday 26 July after the various holidays and the team reunites. Our current thoughts are to head towards the Dolomites then move north again to go to the WW1 battle sites and, hopefully, visit Philip and Renate Banbury in the Alsace. It seems increasingly unlikely that we will reach Eastern Europe and Scandinavia both of which would be more than we could chew - despite their attractions.

Thursday 16 June - Geneva

M2 home today courtesy of Mr Easyjet for some R&R, the Avro 748 annual dinner and perhaps a simulator ride to maintain his currency. M1 looking forward to a week's holiday in Brian Gourley's apartment in Megeve which we have used before in winter and summer. Annie and Joanne fly in on saturday morning.

We spent the morning preparing. Packing, cleaning and attempting to fixe some of EMU's little failings. The sun was very warm and it cooked up nicely so that we were pleased to get the cooling air in the van as we set off for Geneva airport. Daniel (Garmin) said it was only 17km away but it was a 52km drive round the Jura mountain to get there although this was inspiring with a view of the whole of Lake Geneva when descending into Gex. It was useful to check the access and parking arrangements at the airport and after a few nervous fumbles about height and not paying before reaching the exit barrier this was achieved. M2 delivered into Easyjet's hands; M2 back to Chezery via the southern route. Same distance but quicker.

Domestic afternoon then a good bike ride up the valley once the temperature had dropped to 30C at about 5.00pm. The ride was a steady up for 13.5 miles then an exhilarating whizz down.

Back to Chez Blanc for another fine 14 euro meal. The pichets of wine were absolutely acceptable - perhaps a lesson for the next phase?

A mightily disturbed night though as although there had been no evidence of a build up of thunderstorms, the night sky became alive about midnight. The frequent flashes were initially behind the mountains which were silhouetted brilliantly and there was no alternative but to abandon sleep and watch. Pretty soon, the storms arrived in the confines of the valley accompanied by pretty instant thunder and tumultuous rain. Never mind - the bikes and table etc were protected by being under the awning. An attempt at sleep never worked as then came the mighty wind. The awning was well anchored but was severely tested as it flapped at the mercy of nature. Fearful of a tear or worse, I was also worried that by dismantling the stays and pegs the wind would get it before it could be stowed. Fortunately, a lull allowed me to cut the stays and quickly house the awning but this then exposed the bikes etc to another wetting in the torrential rain. Sleep didn't or couldn't come so the books and computer came out until morning - and still it rained!

Wednesday 15 July - To the Jura

We had been short of exercise lately so both resolved to ride after the usual breakfast of fresh croissant and bread. M1 opting for a circular cycle route north to Tournus then south east to Pont de Vaux the return. A smashing, quite fast ride of 38 miles compounded only by town closures for market day. M2 cycled into Lugny and back for his exercise but made the most useful discovery of a 'vidange' service area for camping cars in St Gengoux de Scisse. This truly excellent and free facility provided water, electricity and voiding which had not been available at the campsite. Yet again, we had been impressed with the provision of a free facility of great use to tourists and which provides an opportunity for trade. In UK, we seem to want to charge for everything to deter shoppers and pay the wages of the traffic wardens. A rethink required here.

M1 shocked to receive a message that a 44 year old chum from the Club had suffered a major stroke and had lost most motor abilities apart from his right arm. He was in hospital at the time for observation so hopefully the medics can still do their best to improve his prospects.

After packing up, we went to the vidange, did the necessary and, fully charged, set off towards Geneva. We stopped to eat the pate with fresh bread in one of the many motorway picnic areas provided with lavatories, wash-up areas and plenty of space - and all with no commercial outlet. Why can't we do that in UK? Yet another example of enlightened organisation, this time at national level.

We turned off the autoroute at Bellegarde sur Valserine to try to find a site in the Jura mountains to the west of Geneva. An important criteria was proximity to a restaurant. The charming village of Chezery-Forens, in the wonderfully impressive Valserine valley gave the answer, A quiet and well equipped site on the outskirts of the village and just a short walk to a first rate place run by the family Blanc which provided cold beers at the required time followed by a tip-top 14 euro meal. Sadly, the terrace adjacent to the fast running river wasn't open so we ate inside in good surroundings. Apart from her sing-song service voice, the meal was elegantly served by one well-preserved and well-presented sister while the other was the chef and mother kept a quiet eye on things from the confines of the kitchen. A short stroll back down the hill to the van.

Tuesday 14 July - Heading NE to Macon

With everything so wet and the weather damp and threatening, we revised our plans and opted for a travelling day as we knew we had to make distance towards Geneva at some stage. It was - of course - Bastille Day, le quatorze Juillet, a national holiday. We said goodbye to our host Emanuel (far too handsome, girls!) and bought some locally produced pate and a jar of cassoulet. EMU rose to the challenge of another journey. She hummed along on the autoroute and we made excellent time towards Macon, a charming area that M1 had visited a year before on the way to/from the Dallison wedding in Montauroux. A smashing campsite presented itself at Aze 'Les Grottes' centrally located between Cluny, Lugny and Chardonnay. Sheltered and unbusy once the day trippers to the caves, historical site and the excellent swimming pool had departed, we spent a quiet night using up the grub on board as there were no restaurants open nearby. There was, though, a pleasing community in Aze with a large village or family occasion under canvas in the main square with local music played and enjoyed.

Monday 13 July - With Michael Ayrton & on to La Ferme Jacquin, Lamothe-Fenelon

An important anniversary day: M1's daughter Fiona at 40 and M2's Ma-in-law at the magnificent age of 98! We think of them both.

We breakfasted in the delightful and charming old village of Boussoues before arriving at Le Mian at Polignac the home of the Ayrtons. Michael was a lively and gregarious 70ish retired officer who, with his wife Nicky, had renovated their beautiful house over several years when he retired fron the Army in about 1994. What a place it was with a most beautiful aspect and lovely grounds. We were filled with envy.

After a warm welcome and expressing due interest in our travels and the old banger in which we had arrived, we settled over a coffee to pick Michael's brains and tap into his knowledge. This was fascinating and we found that we had enough knowledge to explore quite a few facets of the campaign and the battles. Michael then took us to his impressively presented study high in the pigeonnier to show us some original stuff he had collected over the years - plates, engravings, documents and even some bullets and buttons from the Tarbes battlefields. Wonderful stuff. Michael now concentrates on military silver and is well on his way to achieving a significant collection. All in all, a most enjoyable and worthwhile interlude with a charming and informative host. We felt all the better for the visit.

We night stopped at La Ferme Jacquin, another France Passion gem of a place. No fuss - just park and get on with it. We set up shop under a large walnut tree quite close to various pens of free range 'foie gras' geese with the temperature at 38 degrees C. We were more discomfited than the geese who seemed to cope fine in their own way although they were surprisingly quiet! We had seen some impressive CBs building to the north and sure enough once we took to our beds (shelves as we describe them), the lightning cracked, the thunder god roared and the rain lashed down most of the night. All our bikes, golf clubs etc were left outside and suffered accordingly so we had a soggy morning. Nature unconstrained is a wonderful spectacle. We are suitably insignificant.

Sunday 12 July - Tarbes & Domaine de Bile

During the closing phases of Wellington's advance into France in 1813, there had been a battle north of Tarbes which had, over the years, been unreported and about which there had been disagreement about the scenes of engagement. Michael Ayrton and John Taylor, both ex Army officers with a keen interest in military history, had taken five years of painstaking research to set the record straight, particularly with respect to the engagement by the 95th against Harispe's 8th Division on the Orleix Ridge NNE of Tarbes. We had their book 'The Sharpest Fight' as a reference and drove around the key places described including the telegraph tower at Oleac, the church at Bours from where the battle was observed by some redcoats and the approach roads from Vic Bigorre and Rabasten. The terrain appeared to fit the description well. Since Michael Ayrton lived not too far away, we were lucky enough to make contact with him and arrange to meet him the following day to swap interests and hopefully learn more.

Overnight, we found another excellent France Passion site where we were able to park in the vineyards of Domaine de Bile near the village of Bossoues where they specialised, to M2,s delight, in Armagnac. So, for the price of a bottle of 11 year old Armagnac, a bottle of sweet Floc as an aperitif and some locally produced pate, we had another free night.

Saturday 11 July - Col du Pourtalet & Cru Lamouroux

M1 also had another motive for returning to Laruns - Col du Pourtalet. A climb used occasionally in the Tour de France, he had cycled from the campsite at 500m to a point at 800m on the earlier visit but was keen to test himself to see if he could get higher. The climb was 30km to the summit at 1794m - how would he get on? Up early and riding by 06.45 in cool temperatures, he set off. The route is marked at each Km with distance to go and slope for the next km so it is possible to track progress on the ground and in altitude. Fortunately, traffic was light at that hour and there were no competing cyclists whizzing past. The cycling was steady work, head down and keep turning with slopes ranging from 1% to the steepest at 11%. Apart from a few stops to regroup, take on water and a few photos, 2hrs 20mins after setting off and without there being a final km mark, the summit arrived rather suddenly. Spain ahead, France behind and a photo of the bike actually there and it was time to head back down. If this was supposed to be the easier option - forget it! M1 was permanently on the brakes to limit descent speed with all sorts of strain on the hands. More than that, this was the first Saturday of the French holidays so the traffic from France to Spain and vice versa had increased dramatically - coaches, campervans, cars with frustrated drivers, cyclists, animals all vying for their bit of the road. In addition, there were some tricky winds, generation of heat had disappeared as there was very little pedalling and passing into and out of sunshine and shade meant it was very cold indeed. There was some very bad driving and it was with some relief that the campsite hove into view after another 1hr 15 mins - shaking with cold and muscular tension. The croissants, fresh bread and coffee M2 had arranged could not have been more welcome nor the warm shower afterwards. But - a tick in the 'Done' column for which there won't be another opportunity - a satisfying milestone even though it was less 'dancing up hills' than 'broom wagon' stuff.

We struck camp, said farewell to the lovely maiden and set off for Orthez where there was another battle in Wellington's advance into France. In truth, there wasn't that much to see other than to see the ground over which the armies had manouevred in this closing phase of the Peninsular War. We had a fondness for the 'France Passion' site at Cru Lamouroux in the Jurancon so we went back to see the vignerons, taste the wines again and enjoy a final evening looking down the Vallee d'Ossau to the magnificent Pyrenees whilst savouring a meal of smoked salmon and avocado followed by veal with rice. Paradise!

Friday 10 July - Le Betit & Lac d'Isade

Last time here in early June, we had set out to walk Le Betit trail but the weather intervened and we had to abandon our attempt. This time the weather was favourable so we unhooked the van and drove the 5 miles up the valley before starting what we knew would be a strenuous climb of approaching 4,000 ft. The trail was unremittingly upwards, initially on a pretty good track then on steep, broken ground through beech and pine woods where the effort required tested us both. Steady progress was made until we came out into more open mountainside, hellishly steep with scree on one side and rocks, scrub, dwarf azaleas and mountain ash elsewhere. Looking up, it wasn't possible to see the route but we had a large scale map which gave us a clear idea of what to look for. Also, there were reasonably well placed small cairns of rocks to assure us that we were on track. The going got even tougher with M1 needing more and more frequent pauses for breath while pretending to admire the view. M2 was a strong climber and tolerated the slower progress of his (older!) partner. The GPS set told us our height as we climbed so we always knew what we still had to do but in the end the mountain was kind to us on the final stretch which was a relatively flat section to the lakeside and there we were! 1952m at Lac d'Isade, the most beautiful, copybook tarn (corrie, cwm or cirque from school days). Geographically and visually the lake was stunning and worth every bit of the effort to reach it in just under 3 hours of steady climbing. Marvellous!

We lunched next to the perfect blue water, marvelling that there were fish rising, before setting down which was hard on toes and knees but easier than perhaps we thought. We had, though, a better view of the surrounding scenery than on the way up. Reuniting ourselves with the van two hours later, a cold beer was the first priority and much enjoyed too. We had little energy to devote to cooking an evening meal so we went again into Laruns. No animal progression this time but the ladies version of 'Transhumusicales' Basque songs. Overall, we were so pleased that chance had brought us back to witness this moving community event and cap it with such a satisfying and rewarding climb. We are very lucky.

Thursday 9 July - Back to Laruns & the Vallee d'Ossau

We eschewed our initial thoughts of getting on to a golf course and elected to go back to the Des Gaves campsite at Laruns where we felt we had unfinished business which had been curtailed by the weather. On the way in, we noticed a sign advising that 'Transhumance' was taking place over the next few days. M2 knew that this was the movement of grazing animals to the high pastures but we thought little of it at the time.

We were a little unsure of the wisdom of returning to a place we had enjoyed but we needn't have worried. The whole place was marvellous and the setting spectacular. This, plus a warm welcome from la belle mamselle Stephanie who appeared to be pleased to see us again ensured that we had made the right choice. We decided to go to the recommendedrestaurant l'Arregalet which we had failed to find last time. On the walk into town, we were puzzled by the high level of through traffic diverted down a normally quiet road. Then the reason became clear! The village roads were closed as a herd of cows was driven through - this was Transhumance in action. As we moved further into town, there was very much a full showing of the local population as what we were lucky enough to now witness as a full blown community event. As we went, more herds were ushered through by bergers and some volunteers. The animals - as there were separate herds of sheep and ponies too - with their bells sounding an unscripted and varied melody which, from a distance, sounded more like muted drumbeats. They moved through the town placidly and at regular intervals with everybody out to watch even leaving their tables in the restaurant to enjoy the time-honoured procession. This was not a tourist affair: no tacky stalls or souvenirs - just a community recognising its close links to the season and their farming heritage. After our excellent meal of local fare on the 14.80 euro menu, we followed the crowd back into the town centre where we were fortunate to see a truly memorable musical tribute to this particulat time of the year - the local men of varied ages (looking a bit like a mixed age rugby team) dresses in black and red and all with Basque berets worn in different ways entertaining the population to a series of Basquais songs. Excellent singing and a terrific occasion. Sadly, neither of us had a camera or phone between us to record all these events but they will linger long in our memory (images from following day). Happy to bed in this excellent site after a super evening.

Wednesday 8 July - Durango to Cambo les Bains (Back into France)

We should always have a plan - so you can change it! M1 was going to ride from ourovernight spot to a RV with M2 and the van at Toloso before pressing on. Off the biker went at about 08.30 full of beans and enthusiasm. Just 3 miles down the road the main chain ring cable slipped and left him in the low gear. Despite roadside attempts to repair, and without the requisite set of pliers to tension the cable, it was best to cycle back up hill to the van and devise plan 'B'. At least breakfast would now be on the cards - but no, M2 had eaten all the bread! No worries - tostada to the rescue.

With both firing on all cylinders again, we set off back towards Pamplona and the battle field site at Sorauren, just 5 miles north. This was a delightful village with stone buildings prettily decked out with bright red geraniums - the white of the buildings and the red of the paintwork and flowers reflecting the Basque traditional colours. The bridge at Sorauren was still there and we could identify Clausel's Ridge and that of Cole but we were amazed at the steepness of the terrain, the limitations that the features imposed on troop movements and concluded that this was no place to try to manouevre 40,000 troops. Nevertheless, history tells us that this is what happened and we marvel at it. Some sharp control of his troops gave Wellington a victory to deny Sault the road to Pamplona. We retraced our steps slightly to get on the best road to Roncesvalles - a windy road through beautiful, green hills with neat, appealing white and red villages on the way. There were many cyclists in evidence up and down the road which made us believe that there was some sort of organised time event taking place but we didn't see start or end point. Roncesvalles was of interest for two reasons: firstly, it was where Roland led Charlemagne's army against the Basques (even though he was defeated his resistance was enough to dissuade the Basques from further attempts to invade France) and secondly, it was where Sault launched his attack against Wellington's overstretched defensive lines on the Spanish side of the border with a massive numerical advantage. Cole, the British Commander and his men fought bravely but retreated to Sorauran in front of this assault. Mainly, our impression was of a desperately limited geographic area of steep sided hills and no room to manouevre. Quite how Sault managed to get 40,000 men up the very steep and narrow Valcarlos valley and the old Roman road is a mystery - but do so he did. His campaign to break through the British defences in order to take Pamplona had a good start.

Roncesvalles itself was a disappointment as it had been overwhelmed by the pilgrim trail. Restaurant's advertised a 'Pilgrim's Menu', there were accommodation hostels and better for 'Pelegrinos only' and we felt out of place so didn't stay long. Over the pass and down a spectacular valley back into France to St Jean Pied de Port where we had a welcome omelette aux cepes and pomme frites even though as a border town it disappointed somewhat. What didn't disappoint was the very nice mechanic who fixed the chain ring cable in 10 seconds and didn't charge a bean! On to a well arranged camp site with reasonable privacy and good facilities just outside Cambo les Bain (which marked the southern end of Soult's line of defence along the Nive when defending against Wellington's army in 1813.

Tuesday 7 July - Burgos to the Pyrenees via Vitoria

Well - we decided to walk the 2 miles into Burgos last night, found a delightful taverna serving cheap drinks and an amazing array of appetising tapas. Two glasses of wine and a medium portion of bocerones later we were charged just 4.50 euros - just the start for the meal at Casa Ojeda further towards the city centre. The restaurant was excellent - pleasing atmosphere, friendly service and a good choice. Much talk with our waiter Sergio about going to Pamplona to see the running of the bulls and a bull fight. We favoured the Burgos traditional fare: one calamares and one black pudding followed by the suckling lamb accompanied by a 14.5% Ribera del Duero. This was rich, fatty stuff after the bocerones and one of our number had tummy problems the next day! We returned by walking, quite well oiled and singing mostly scottish songs badly or incompletely and had to climb the fence to get back in the campsite!

In our absence, the site had filled up alarmingly despite our attempts to discourage newcomers from coming close to us by playing the desperate, raw Flamenco songs of Camaron de las Islas. We haven't yet reached more than track 5 before even we give up. The crowding here seemed worse as the holiday season approaches and because we are now back on the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage trail. There was a 'pilgrim's facility' set up not far from us on an industrial scale complete with tents erected with scaffolding, a field kitchen, accommodation etc. What sort of pilgrimage is that? This experience has heightened our resolve to get away from these type of sites whenever we can.

It was a shortish drive to Vitoria to view the plain west of the city which was the scene of another devastatingly successful battle against the French under King Joseph. An open plain with a few defining hills and a river which led to a battle in which Wellington's skill at manoeuvre and surprising the enemy on the flanks with applied force gave him an impressive victory. The hill at Nanclares (pictured) gave a clear view of the battle field (this was where Wellington had his command post before he led the central attacking force) then on to Trespuentes (pictures show M1 on the bridge and a large frog under it especially for Rory) and Mendoza which had both featured dominantly in the action.

We drove on and after one map reading error which increased the journey time, we parked for the night in an isolated spot in the beautiful green hills south of Durango next to a small pasture occupied by a massive bull and his entourage of cows and calves. But this was not quite the quiet place we had envisaged as there was plenty of passing traffic in cars and on motor and push bikes although this subsided as the night wore on. Earlyish to bed.

Monday 6 July - Burgos

Continuing our drift towards the NE, Burgos was the next obvious port of call. A city that had featured strongly in Spain's history being in a focal point on the route from Portugal and Spain to France and the rest of Europe. Armies from both sides of the Peninsular War passed through Burgos and Wellington laid seige to the castle in late 1812 but despite several attempts to force a French surrender, he eventually quietly withdrew when it was clear that he would have to face superior numbers as the French reinforced. He moved back using the Douro as a defensive feature (but remember the French exploit at Tordesillas) and wintered finally in Ciudad Rodrigo, much further to the west.

It's difficult to know what to expect of a town by reading military history, but Burgos was a delightful surprise. A modern, lively city built on it's illustrious historical past, it had immediate appeal. Most famous perhaps for being the birthplace of El Cid in the 12th century and his wars against the Moors and for Christian kings, his romanticised statues abound. We cycled into town from a pretty full campsite under trees by the River Arianzon on cycle tracks that should be the envy of all modern cities to savour the architecture and enjoy a beer in the Plaza Mayor. Gastronomic specialities here are black pudding, cheese and the suckling lamb. Again we will follow the Lonely Planet recommendation and dine at the Casa Ojeda restaurant which looked wonderfully welcoming and traditional. Hope it lives up to expectations.

Sunday 5 July - To Tardesillas via Fuentesauco

Both knew that we needed to make physical compensation for last night's excess and the bikes were out relatively early. M1 took the old west road towards Ciudad Rodrigo which was mercifully free of cars and mostly pretty flat so a good average was maintained over the 31 miles ridden. M2 chose the other direction through Calvarossa and rode for a good hour and a quarter.

Still slow and only partly effective we got ready to leave. Sadly, some of the van's incidental working parts are showing signs of wear and tear. The boot barely shuts and the keys don't work, window struts and catches are breaking and the locks to the water inlet and now the back door are in poor shape. We can manage though. On our way by about 11.30, we chose a back road route through mostly cultivated land to reach Fuentesauco by about 1.00pm. It was immediately obvious that the town was host to a festival as there were people, cars (and litter) everywhere. And oh yes! we noticed heavy iron railings in many places. We saw three or four large, proud mounted grey hoses with long spears that must have been picadors although they were npot armoured. Sadly, they disappeared. Having been told that the 'bull running' would take place at 7.00pm, we were puzzkled that so many people seemed to be packing up and leaving. With no language skills to rely on we couldn't find out what was happening. Disappointed that we must have missed the run, we walked into town under the bunting and saw a few signs: more and more people, droppings in the road and each and every doorway barred by substantial iron gate or scaffold. Then through the throng at the end of the road there was a cheer and M2 saw the crowd sway back and the unmistakeable shape of a very black bull. We got close enough to see things better. Parts of the town were coralled off and the bulls driven through them. Goaded by young and not so young men probably fuelled by drink who were brave to the point of climbing back up, over or through the railings every time one of these confused and terrified beasts made a charge. All rather undignified for people and animals both. The bulls had none of the normal nobility and dignity they would enjoy in the field. And what happens to them next? Were they driven to the bull ring for the fighting in the evening?

We moved on and chose to go to a site at Tordesillas just west of Valladolid but not too far away. We tried to find the centre of the town of Toro on the way but failed although there was evidence of much religious history. Tordesillas did not feature much in the Peninsular War but during a British retreat in late October 1812, 56 French troops swam naked across the flooded River Douro, drove back a German unit and built a pontoon bridge before suffering a reversal when Wellington called up reserves. Special Forces at work!

Saturday 4 July - At Salamanca

In view of yesterday's high temperature, we elected to rise early for our trip round the Arapiles battlefield. We had done most of the sights by 09:30 and secured a very good understanding of an important and decisive victory for Wellington's army. The features were easy to place and appreciate and there were useful maps and signs to help us too. It was all wonderfully evocative to see the land and terrain over which the troops had marched, ridden and fought. This was a much more free moving and open battle than others of the campaign with key manouevres made in response to weaknesses which developed in the French tactics. A crushing victory for Wellington which enhanced his reputation considerably not least with the French generals.

The problem with finishing the battle tour so early was that we then had the whole of the rest of the day to fill. We cleaned up and caught the local bus into Salamanca, a most delightful place with a real buzz to it no doubt in response to its wonderful architecture and being a living city. We mooched around before settleng for a cold beer in the Plaza Mayor and to watch the world go by. A few odd balls but in the main people were well dressed - the girls particularly so. We thoroughly enjoyed being entertained by a bulky guitarist with a deep, powerful voice busking on the steps of the cathedral. He earned out Euro.

The Plaza Mayor as well as being the focal point for social life is also used for weddings and at least two took place while we were there. Very happy events they were too with fire crackers, exploding confetti and rice throwing. An indifferent lunch followed although the bottle of Rioja reduced the disappointment. A few more glasses of wine in some terrific bars away from the main square seduced us somewhat as our timing for the bus return trip was awry so we stayed on had had more - too much more for our own good. Sleep intervened eventually once we got back to base. We were both suitably full of remorse the next morning - but pretty slow!

Friday 3 July - La Alberca to Salamanca

We did indeed enjoy a light meal served by Alejandra and Maria last evening. We had grown to like the family enormously and they seemed to be interested in us too.

After a fond farewell, we travelled quickly over rolling plains NE towards Salamanca. More pasture lands characteristically dotted with single trees - mostly oaks. Regardless of or perhaps despite previous comment about the lack of visible pigs, we eventually saw a small herd of black ones which were very much alive! After replenishment of supplies at a Leclerc where the lively lady who served us our coffees gave us her enthusiastic guidance about getting to see a bullfight, we found Regia campsite easily. Just 4 km from the city centre and adjacent to a four star hotel, it was spot on to meet our requirements. Free wifi available too!

About 50m away from where we parked EMU, M1 noticed some lads with good road bikes. They turned out to be four boys from Winchester College on a charity bike ride from Bilbao to Faro, about 850 miles in all. Delightful lads with a support driver and vehicle, they had just finished day 4 covering about 70 miles a day at 15 mph average. Their charity, DEBRA, for skin diseases, will gain a donation from M1 - and one of them will wear his 'Marmite - Hate Jams' cycling shirt which went down very well - 'Cool!' was the word.

Otherwise, it was too hot to contemplate any exercise or sightseeing so we stayed put and used our BBQ set for the first time - with mixed success. We may rethink this one. It stayed pretty windy too so our precaution inn turning the van round to protect the awning was well worthwhile.

Thursday 2 July - Pena de Francia

We were keen to do some serious walking and since we were on the doorstep of the Pena de Francia at 1653m, we set off relatively early when the mist was still burning off to follow pathway GR10. This was well marked all the way to the summit which we reached 2 hours and 10 minutes after starting for the 8.3 km and 630m vertical climb, most of which occurred in the last 2km. We were hot, sweaty and tired when we got to the top having been accompanied by a swarm of irritating flies for much of the journey. We much preferred the cloud of moths and butterflies that were with us initially! It was a good work out though. Not many pictures of our walk are available but enough to record the achievement and the marvellous viewpoint that Pena de Francia is.

We stayed at the top where there was a shrine, an old monastery now a well appointed church, a met station masquerading as an Atlas missile and a bar restaurant where we had an excellent strong coffee. We were served by a very attractive and friendly young man who then produced his guitar which was of immediate interest to M2. Not sure of his name - perhaps Alberto? - but he played and sang strongly for a short time before handing the guitar to M2 who responded with a quick rendition of 'American Pie' - and not an alcoholic drink in sight!

We started down at 1230 and imagined that we would be back more quickly than the 1hr 55 mins it actually took. Tired but pleased with ourselves we had two well earned, very cold beers in a convenient bar then stayed there for the menu del dias at Euros 9.90. Basic grub but very welcome even though it was just about the most miserable service we had experienced to date. Generally, since we reentered Spain, we have had to revise our earlier impressions of a less likeable people. In fact, most of our recent contacts had been friendly and warm with many a cheery wave from the 'sitters' in the various villages we had driven through - except the Bar de Sampras that is. There had been noticeably less graffiti in evidence too.

We shall make amends with Maria tonight and eat in her restaurant as we are out of grub in the van.

Wednesday 1 July - La Alberca

Much as we had enjoyed Ciudad Rodrigo we were keen to move south and east into another national park, Sierra de Francia. We chose the smaller roads and back tracked M1's bike ride of the previous day towards Martiago where we had the chance to see the gorge of the Agueda - mthis time from the comfort of the cab. The roads were of varied quality and the route very indirect. We had a wonderful false turn in Monsagro where we followed what looked like the main road (cobbled) waving cheerily to the collection of locals who were sitting near the turn. The road got narrower and narrower and it was clear that a retreat was necessary so five minutes later we were back in the square, the same crowd were there and not at all surprised to see us! Probably happens all the time. Back up the road again to flank Monsagro on a much better road to El Meillo which wasn't even on the map! We were then soon in La Alberca having driven 73 km but still only about 35 km from Ciudad Rodrigo.

We had a choice of campsites and chose Al Beraka which was just 2.5 km from the town. Delightfully quiet, we set up shop then biked into town most of which was constructed in the late 18th /early 19th century and has been well preserved. Apparently when the Spanish king visited in 1922 the only milk for his coffee was human milk as the place was so poor. The king then introduced the cow to the community. Very strange as what about sheep and goats too? The village (1100 inhabitants and about 1050 m high) is very attractive but no place for our trusty van. A few tacky shops but plenty of bars and restaurants and - of course - shops selling various parts of the ubiquitous pig. We have come not to like the smell very much, particularly in the 30 degrees or more of heat being experienced. It also raised the observation that we have not seen a live pig in Spain - perhaps they are all dead already and they just keep various parts hanging indoors with their drip trays underneath! Anyway, we found a friendly bar for a few cold beers and saw the start of Andy Murray's match against Spaniard Juan Carlos Ferrera. Back to the site for supper etc then we drifted into the site bar where Maria had been expecting us to eat there after our enquiry earlier as whether the restaurant was open. We settled on coffee and two large brandies and managed a light hearted conversation of pidgin English, pidgin French and bad Spanish that brought her husband Jesus out to join us. He promptly poured three 'aguardiente' (better described as firewater) which we were obliged to slam back before cleansing the palate with our preferred drinks. Shortly afterwards, their daughter, Alejandra, joined us too as these two old chaps were clearly curiosities. She had checked us in earlier in the day. A pretty girl of 24 but what was she still doing living at home with Mum and Dad who she described as very 'espagnol' whereas she called herself a 'european'?

Tuesday 30 June - Ciudad Rodrigo

We were too early for the museum which didn't open until midday but this gave us the opportunity to consolidate on yesterday's visit and also take in the glories of the Castillo, now a very plush 'parador'. Spaniards eat a lot of pig in various guises. Outside the parador there was even a prominent statue of 'A PIG'!

The museum in the splendidly presented Palace de Principe was extremely well done with a fascinating collection of engravings (maps and battle scenes), books, reports including Wellington's despatches to Lord Liverpool, the Secretary for War, and published in the London Gazette and paintings. Excellent stuff very well done and so pleasing that the outcome of the 1812 seige had been remembered appropriately.

After a late lunch of our customary bread, cheese ham and fruit, M1 cleaned his bike ready for a ride when the temperature might have declined a little later. M2 also prepared for a bike ride and we set off separately about 5.00pm both keen to have the exercise. The available maps diddn't show much contour information and we had both supposed that there were few hills to the south. Wrong! Steady climbing, M2 to la Encina and M1 to Robledo, all into a head wind too. This was good sierra type terrain: wide, undulating brown grass interspersed with individual trees and grazing for some of the biggest cattle including bulls we had seen. M1's circular route back through El Sahuga and Mortagrio never seemed to get the benefit of the expected tail wind but did have two significant climbs out of the steep valleys of the Maya and Agueda which tested.

The exercise justified our plan to have supper in Ciudad Rodrigo at another well recommended restaurant from the Lonely Planet guide. A little people watching in the Plaza Mayor first then a most excellent menu de la casa dinner at the Mayton Restaurant, beautifully and traditionally appointed. The appetising Supa de Castellane was demolished but it did have some interesting slimy bits in it. We ought to google it to check! A decent Ribera del Duero wine accompanied the meal followed by the now normal coffee and brandy in another bar. Another very good day!

Pictures: Plaza Mayor, the Post Office, Pig edifice, Palace de Principe