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Our home is our castle!

“Just keep driving all the way up through the village and it’s the castle at the top”.  The castle?? I thought you said we were staying at your mum’s house!

 

But sure enough, we’re safe and sound in a 12th century fortification as I type….

The entrance archway to El Castell

The entrance archway to El Castell

Romans, barons and revolutionaries have come before us – unlike them, we promised to clean up after ourselves!

Our route from Spain was peppered with rain showers and the Pryenees looked more and more brooding as we navigated the ever-shrinking roads.

 

The brooding Pryenees

The brooding Pryenees

More narrow navigation for Geoff and Charlie Charleston

More narrow navigation for Geoff and Charlie Charleston

Not much sun in the flowers

Not much sun in the flowers

 

When we finally arrived in Joch, the steep hill was too much for Charlie Charleston and we got stuck half way up. We had to drop back down to the bottom road and come in from a different approach – good job we weren’t trying to invade! If we were, we could have used Alex’s handy map of the area.

Joch invasion map

Joch invasion map

 

But finally we arrived! Peering down over the tiny village of Joch (population 146) El Castell has had a mixed and sometimes turbulent history.

Peering down from on high

Peering down from on high

Battle scars on the inside

Battle scars on the inside

Built in the 12th century on the site of a Roman fortress, it became the seat of a succession of barons until the last was un-seated and probably beheaded during the French Revolution. The locals sacked the castle and left it to fall into ruins. More than two hundred years later at the turn of this century, our neighbour Bruno bought up the ruins and began to renovate it, selling off sections to families including Alex’s.

Painted tile highlighting the hills beyond

Painted tile highlighting the hills beyond

Sun-drenched in Mediterranean hues

Sun-drenched in Mediterranean hues

While parts are still a work in progress, El Castell has generated an easy and friendly community feeling and has been a wonderful base from which to explore the lovely Pyrenees Orientales. Bruno even has a donkey he let us pet!

Bruno's donkey and friend

Bruno’s donkey and friend

Once more – big thanks to Alex and his family for their generosity. We’ll be posting some stories from our visits in the coming days, but for now – share our enjoyment of Joch with some additional photographs.

 

More narrow navigation for Geoff and Charlie CharlestonNot much sun in the flowersThe entrance archway to El Castell
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Time passes as grains of sand through an hourglass

And so the days of our lives go pretty slowly trying to get to the top the largest sand dune in Europe – Dune de Pilat in the Bassin Bordeaux.

Slowly and in my case… panting like a broken down horse. But at two hundred metres high and shifting around 15 meters in height depending on the season, even though it was quite a hike to get to the top, but the view is stunning – with sand and sea as far as the eye can see and beyond. Hiking up in one thing – getting down can be done in a variety of ways – people have surfed it, skied it, mono-boards, run, rolled and strolled. We stood and watched three young French lads throw themselves off the side of the dunes in spectacular, sand shifting sumersaults, “go-proing” themselves as they tumbled, and then we took the stairs.

Between the sea and the forest - the largest sand dune in Europe

Between the sea and the forest – the largest sand dune in Europe

As far as the eye can see - Far far out to sea

As far as the eye can see – Far far out to sea

How many steps to the stop... this is just part one!

How many steps to the stop… this is just part one!

Flying high above Europe's largest sand dune

Flying high above Europe’s largest sand dune

Deceptive to the eye - it stretches high and far

Deceptive to the eye – it stretches high and far

 

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Coffee, Castles and Crusades

As we have meandered through the back lanes of France we have often criss-crossed the route of a rather less benign journey – la route de Richard, Coeur du Lion and all his caped Crusader chums.

 

As we sat sipping coffee in the sunshine in front of yet another glorious chateau, barely marked on the map in Jumilhac le Grand – we couldn’t help but wonder…. given the bloody and arduous task ahead of them, why more of them didn’t just drop to the back of the line and settle down in a nice little place in the Dordogne. How different things might have been now if only they have taken to the time to have a coffee and admire the view!

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More than just frog’s legs

 

We were expecting to see frogs legs on the menu, but we weren’t expecting to see the whole thing happily squatting on the floor of Chubby, our tent.

 

 

It was out first day in France and up hops the little fellow to bid us bienvenue. I’m not sure what kind of frog this is – can anyone help me with that – but he seemed a pretty cheery chappie, possibly even more so when he saw we were having pork for dinner.

You don't see many of those about, do you!

You don’t see many of those about, do you!

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Our own toilet and a fridge – what more could you want?

We’ve been on the road for just over a week now, so here’s a little update  – how we beat Black Saturday, our first visitor and our own toilet!

 

 

Black Saturday dawned bright and blue and we were completely unaware until the day before that the day we had picked to start our grand tour, was the same day that the rest of Europe always picks to start their two weeks in the sun. Leave in the afternoon and you will be fine (probably), was the advice we were given, and it was academic anyway. Despite being up with the lark, the flat still needed to be cleaned and then Charlie needed to be packed.

Have you heard the expression – squeezing a quart into a pint pot? It is our daily task. We have tried to pack the minimum, but even just with Chubby, our clothes bags and food provisions, we still have to wrestle it in every day. Have we brought too much gear – inevitably? Do we need it all right now – of course!

Can we fit it all in - yes we can!

Can we fit it all in – yes we can!

So by mid afternoon, we were ready to go and “put some miles between us and Amsterdam”. Charlie ate up the road all the way to Dinant in Belgium; our advice was good and we saw no sign of the holiday exodus – so there’s tip number one, never leave in a hurry!  We swapped the lowlands of the Netherlands for the craggy outcrops of Belgium’s premier climbing region, chugging slowly between the towering rocky pillars that greet you at the entrance.

Quite the arrival

Quite the arrival

Day two, country three as we crossed over into France. We’ve travelled diagonally across France from Dinant to Bordeaux, with a few stops along the way. It’s not meant to be fast, but we did not expect it to be this slow either. The GPS is programmed to avoid motorways, which has brought us through countless delightful villages and towns – all at 50 km per hour!

vive la France ancienne

vive la France ancienne

Wine as far as the eye can see

Wine as far as the eye can see

A few days ago we were calculating how long to travel 250km:  “I reckon three and a half to four hours,” I said. “Time was I would have said about an hour and a half,” was Geoff reply, with fond memories of a Ducati motorbike with an engine as third as big again as Charlie’s!

But we are now based in Bordeaux for a few days – staying first at the house of old family friends – Charles, Linda, Katie, Isobel, Fudge the dog and Ben the giant ginger cat – and now camping out in their soon(ish) to be summer house.

 

I'm not naughty at all!

I’m not naughty at all!

 

They can just chat away - I'll sit over here

They can just chat away – I’ll sit over here

Barbecue at the building site

Barbecue at the building site

There are walls and a roof, but the rest is a building site. It is in a gorgeous village by the sea and as Geoff says “we’ve scored our own toilet and a fridge”. What more does any one want!