Shivering on the Ledge and more "De-Manche"

Our UK trip culminated in three days at Cropredy. Unlike for our previous festival (in 2009) we had the car with us and could camp with a bit more comfort (e.g. chairs!), but despite trying to get there as soon as entry was allowed we were put in a field that was quite a long way from the stage, and at a point that was a very long way from the loos! Never mind - we only had to stop for rain twice during the simple erection of the small tent! The weather throughout was very variable, but generally good enough for sitting outside at the two fringe pubs and in the arena field. The headline acts were superb! UB40's set was tight and great fun, Seasick Steve was not only great as a solo act but had brought in some excellent support - including Robert Plant! Unfortunately that Friday night was bitterly cold and we just could not face staying to the end, so had to listen as we went back to the tent!. We had been intent on seeing the Blockheads on the last afternoon, but got stuck in the Red Lion where Spank The Monkey played, and this then led to some viewing of the Adderbury and the Hammersmith Morris.

Other acts on the stage include The Dylan Project who played 80 solid minutes of skilled covers, and we also enjoyed Badly Drawn Boy - about whom we previously knew very little, but found The Coral (and to an extent Horslips) lacking in "stagecraft" to complement the music., and Charlie Dore is indeed a one-hit phenomenon. It all concluded - as ever- with Fairport and some old favourites. This time we just about managed to stay to the end despite the cold. (August!!!!), then it was up early on Sunday morning to de-camp and leave the UK! - This year's surprise meeting was with Malcolm N - who worked in IT with Ruth in Croydon, and whom we had also seen at other Fairport gigs over the years. Thanks to him and Mary for the festival pics!



And as for the Cropredy community......, and some delightful images here.

Middle class or what?

We had an uneventful drive down to Dover, and a last decent pint before being allowed on to an earlier ferry than planned, arriving in Dunkerque in time for a first French dinner!

A new word - "De-Manche":- definition: the act of finding oneself wine-less or bar-less near the Channel ports - as a result of forgetting about France on Sundays!

Road Trip UK:- Roots and Routes

It was a quick run up from Guildford to Balham, where with ducking and diving of parking regulations we managed to get much of the fingered detritus out of the loft and safely to the tip. It was a very hot day, so not funny rooting around and then applying the hammer to computer hard disks. Nor later in the laundrette, but we met up with Pete and Baz for Thank You drinks at the Prince, then crossed another entry from the list of "Food we somewhat miss when abroad" by a visit to Nandos, dropped in on our tenants and spent the night at the Leigham Court Hotel in Streatham! (A useful place for an overnight, but chaotic at breakfast time!)

Then it was off for a series of stays in places where we have individual roots. First was Oulton Broad, where Bob's cousin's son has frequently offered us a base, even if he is off-shore as he was this time. En route we stopped off at Southwold to kill a couple of hours. Needless to say - on such a beautiful day - it was a bit busy; but it remains probably the most unspoilt seaside resort in England, with a renovated pier, and delights like Punch & Judy! (Not to mention the Adnams Brewery!).  Ricky has lovingly modernised a bungalow - with heated swimming pool, and luxury kitchen - so we wallowed for three days. Unfortunately on the first night - our anniversary - we were too full and injured (Ruth's post-loft-activity thigh muscle!) to enjoy a planned posh meal at the Red Herring, so instead had pub grub at the Waveney and were subsequently humiliated in a pub quiz largely because our knowledge of TV Quiz Shows was lacking! Next day we spent ages online sorting our own and Chloe's accommodation issues and just spent a couple of hours at the Wherry in beautiful weather before entertaining Rose, Ray and Paul - courtesy mostly of Morrisons! They had opted not to be taken out for a  "birthdays" meal because their dog is not well, but we had a delightful evening - even when there was a power cut. Paul filmed it all!

Thursday was to be Yarmouth day:- with a cycle ride round Bob's old haunts, market chips, and so on; but as we set off the heavens opened and we suffered a foul wet day. It was truly disgusting, so we just did a circuit of the town in the car, took in a few changes from within the car and headed back to Oulton Broad.



The three main canals of Birmingham

Next stop was Birmingham. Bob was born and spent his early years there, but the main motivation for our visit was to to do some canal-side cycling. We had an awful drive there which took seven hours due to an accident on a motorway, but found the hotel we had booked mostly at random and on price and parking, was very well located next to the new BullRing and in the Chinese Quarter.We had a pleasant evening which culminated in a meal in a very functional and cheap Chinese restaurant. On Saturday we set off on bikes to investigate the canal network. Basically there are three canals: Birmingham and Worcester, Birmingham and Fazeley, and the Grand Union, with a key junction at Gas Street Basin, and the - now very trendy - Brindley Place. After a silly route to reach the canal, and in increasingly threatening weather we started down the B&F, which turned out to be entirely and heavily downhill and devoid of watering holes. Ruth's knees and injured thigh had had enough, so we retraced steps to a nice pub just in time to miss a serious shower. 

On the Sunday Bob went solo with a ride down the B&W to Bournville, and on Monday we both braved some horrible wind and cloud to go on a discovery trail on the early stages of the Grand Union. In Small Heath we left the canal to look at two ancestral homes, and later we were forced to turn back by the mud-ridden towpath, but it was a fascinating trip through Britain's industrial heritage, and we had a chance to thaw out and dry when we collected the car and headed for Oxford!

(Within 36 hours the riots had started in Birmingham and we watched on TV spotting places we had just left. Uncanny!)

Oxford is Ruth's heritage city, and the plan was again to find the canal and cycle. We were positioned in Travelodge on the ring road, which was another Good Plan! We could join the canal at Wolvercote. This village has featured in many an Inspector Morse episode and/or book, and we thought we might "do"  The Trout, but a look at reviews on the web revealed that it is now deeply flawed - being barely now a pub at all, - but more of a trendy, expensive and slow-serviced restaurant with mud-less Range Rovers! On our first whole day (after the ritual laundrette hunt) we rode down into the city beside the canal in increasingly pleasant weather, and back through Jericho and Summertown delighted by the well-designed cycle route, then ate a very good meal at The Plough in Wolvercote. Next day the wind blew, and the sky darkened, so Ruth opted out. Bob rode the Thames Path down to Iffley, and then we both visited "cousin" Mary in West Oxford, and ate at the Red Lion in Wolvercote, which was not as good as The Plough - but enjoyable as it was going to be our last pub dinner for a while!

Road Trip England Part 1:- Celebrations

Greyrocks now takes it as read that within an hour of arriving in UK there will be tearing out of hair! This time we got off the ferry and through customs etc without trouble and were soon on the M20. As we joined the M25 - and too late to take evasive action - we were confronted with a sign telling us of huge delays. We eventually found out it was a jack-knifed lorry:- nobody's fault but still a frustration as we sat stationary for half an hour. We made it to Brighton with time to visit the Marina and perform the second ritual of arrival: the pint of very pleasant English ale in a decent pub! There was even sunshine! No joy on a frock for Ruth, though, and one had to be bought before nightfall! We parked and checked in at the very handy Travelodge in Preston Park, and took the bus into town, where after a few worrying failures a suitable item was found and we could rest in another pub, and then another, and then have fish and chips, and then go to Chloë's to collect more clothes, and out to meet Max for the first time in a (wait for it!) .. pub!

Steve Bell a few years ago!

Next morning we responded to dire warning about punctuality by arriving ridiculously early at The Dome for the Big Day! We had coffee in an Italian cafe surrounded by other folk in glad rags, and eventually Chloë appeared - rather more tastefully attired than many - got her gown etc and we waited to go in. Exciting enough, but then we peeped at the programme and saw that Steve Bell - our favourite political cartoonist - was also to get a degree at the ceremony (an honorary Doctorate)! The graduands were getting degrees in Social Sciences or Nursing & Midwifery, so not balanced gender-wise. It was all very joyous! Steve Bell replied to the eulogy with a very humorous but nonetheless commited speech illustrated with projected cartoons going back to Thatcher. Clearly a sizeable minority of parents present shared our values, and he was very well received. Afterwards at the "champagne reception" Ruth used her long Greenwich experience of being on the other side at these "dos" to find the VIPs and we introduced ourselves to him.

Max met us at a neighbouring pub and we went for a superb lunch at Havana, where we were not the only graduation party! Here are some images of the delightful day!

Next day we were up early to take Yvette to Portslade for a service and MOT. We rode the bikes back into Hove and found it a very convenient centre for getting jobs done from watch strap to verruca! For a variety of reasons - including meanness - that night was to be spent in Hellingley near Eastbourne, so a tedious drive there and then back next morning. We spent Thursday moving Chloë's belongings to storage, friends and tip; and Ruth cleaned and cleared bits of her "outgoing" house, We then went down to Rotherfield to visit Josiane and Alastair, staying two nights so that we could enjoy both J's lovely cooking with homegrown fruit and veg, and their choice of a celebratory (Greyrocks' 60th and 65th birthdays) meal out at the Golden Thai in Crowborough. We had a banquet which was delicious and huge! In between we did a gesture of a country walk and acted as IT and Finance consultants. On the Saturday we drove over to Guildford Travelodge, making a serious navigational error in the final stage; and early next day picked up Chloë in Haslemere (home of Max) and went for our third "do" - a family lunch at the traditional venue of Uplands in Droxford. (En route we had our first use of the new Hindhead tunnel:- what an improvement after years of traffic snarl-ups on the London/parents run!) Nine of us enjoyed a pleasant Sunday lunch and a cake brought by Lois, George did the photos, and we returned to Guildford to gird our loins for Monday's travails! Just one more celebration to go!

Best route from A to B??

..and so it was that we spent much of the hottest and most humid day of the season at that point (20th July) on cleaning and packing! This trip was a masterpiece of logistics and economy necessitated by Chloe's graduation, Yvette's MOT, property visit, family meals to celebrate the big birthdays, then extended to include the Cropredy festival, visiting Le Queroy and with the added benefit of getting us away from Paleo over the Assumption holiday when it can be rather unpleasant! So a full month on the road (or sea or in the air)!

First we managed to slip down for a quick "Welcome Back" drink with newly-returned Duke, then onto the 3.30 bus to Chania. It had to be so early in order to get the 2100 ferry, which we might have missed from the last bus. Then we paused at the bus station and then went by bus to the port. We were expecting to see the Elyros docked and to be allowed onboard by 7 for the 9pm departure. No ship! Since we booked they have started day sailings so ours was not to leave until 10pm, and we would have to wait for it to arrive and for disembarkation before we could settle into our comfy cabin. Grrr! Still, it was a good crossing and the delay resulted in a slightly more civilised arrival time of 6am in Piraeus! The port had an eerie feel with the taxis on strike, but we watched life and used the free WiFi before going to get the airport bus (from the shelter that doubles as a public urinal and featured in Athens News the previous week as a pickpocketing hub!). With no taxis there was huge pressure on the buses, and it was not a relaxing ride. We were anticipating a long wait at the airport, but we were then told of a delay of at least an hour in take-off, which turned into two hours of extra tedium. The planned schedule for onwards was now in tatters as we would not make the last bus from Barcelona to Girona airport. Nor had we any documentation about the rail alternative! There was further frustration at the Barcelona airport train station when the only member of staff was out of her booth and wouldn't help with the Girona bit telling us to change at Sants. Then followed the closest shave for a very long time!

It is four or five stops from the airport to Sants and the carriage was fairly empty. We stowed our main wheelie bags close to us on the floor and then put down the rucksack with the laptop (and other valuables). A group of three men and a woman got on, stood strangely close to us, and then started asking questions about the stops. When we pulled into a station one engaged Ruth in a contorted conversation and Bob saw that the two men were running off the train with the rucksack. He shouted as he ran after them and the other man ran too. As they neared the end of the platform they dropped the bag and Bob retrieved it. Phew!!!

We were in mild shock for the rest of the evening, which entailed getting to Sants and trying to find a train, getting one that was only slow (as opposed to a previous very, very slow one) seeing a good proportion of Catalonia, and realising we were going to be late into Girona whence we had no information about onwards buses other than a vague memory that 10pm was the last one. We pulled into Girona at 9.57 and followed some others in a mad dash across to the bus station. Bob flung his bag over a barrier and jumped. Ruth ran sedately on the long route and we made it. (Although in fact there are buses at 11pm and midnight!) By asking the driver to drop us at a spceial stop we manged to run into our hotel at 10.25, with the self-service restaurant due to close at 10.30. Another Phew :- we shared a menu del dia and turned in heaving large sighs of relief, and wondering if we might have been a shade too mean in our planning!

Next day the blessed Punt Central lady collected us, and the boss went to get Yvette and shook our hands with vigour. We set off on our own Tour de France (just under 1000 miles).

Leg1: Diesel (just cheaper in Spain), liqueur for Josiane, over the Pyrenees, skirt Toulouse and up to Brive. Brive has a strong industrial history, has lovely countryside and towns nearby and is on the rail network. That makes it similar to Swindon, and it has about as much charm! (We saw a British car pass us 5 times trying to get out or get a bed on a busy weekend - they looked increasingly cross). We had booked so were OK at a B&B chain hotel and with a RestauMarche meal.

Leg 2. This was a Rouge Saturday! Bison Fute classifies the traffic conditions for France. "Black" would be the next weekend but this day got the red, meaning some headaches. We were fortunately going largely against the holiday flow, but still had to do the dreaded Limoges-Poitiers National (not Autoroute) bit. We saw some ghastly queues and had our own moments (20 minute waits) at toll booths and junctions, but made it to Alencon, and once again no walkable choice for eating :- it had to be the infamous Buffalo Grill, where we dined on Charolais steaks. 

Leg 3 A silly day! We do - of course - know about (and have some support for) Sundays in France. We needed cheap fuel and the wine supplies for three weeks in UK. We thought there would be something open for the mornong in Alencon. We failed to find it. We diverted from the autoroute just before likely closing time and failed to find it. Then we thought that Cité Europe might be open for tourists, but it wasn't, and when we got to Dunkerque we couldn't even find an open bar for a much-needed beer!Grrr! Still we had a comfortable room and then the famous Campanile dinner, before an early night, and the 10am ferry loaded with absolutely no French wine - a historic moment!!!