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Normandy in June: The 80th Anniversary of D Day Extravaganza

November 8, 2024 Lucy’s Logbook Leave a comment

Author’s note: While this blog relates to events we enjoyed 5 months ago, it seems relevant to publish this now as we approach Remembrance Sunday and the Cenotaph parade in London this November weekend. No doubt there will be a special emphasis on the Normandy Campaign, 80 years ago this year, the celebrations for which we were so fortunate to experience in June. And, as it happens, both Giles and I are on parade! Giles with his Regiment, the Queen’s Own Highlanders and I’m marching as a representative of Virgin Atlantic, honouring the memory of my Grandfather, Air Vice Marshall Robert Glenn, CB, CBE. This feels like an appropriate moment to cast our minds back to the incredible time we experienced in Normandy in June, so here goes…….

Sitting in a small French primary school in a tiny village in Normandy, I’m immensely proud to hear the Guest of Honour (AKA my fellow adventurer Giles!) address the Mayor and all assembled to thank them for all that the village has done to commemorate the bravery of his Great Uncle – at least I think that’s what he was saying, as it was all in French! Our summer road trip had started early this year in order to accommodate this date – and thank goodness it did, as it resulted in the most memorable, unique and moving week full of celebrations, services of Remembrance, air and motor shows, and learning about the incredible challenges faced by all involved in the Normandy invasion. The scope and atmosphere of these commemorations was totally beyond our expectations, so we spent a whole week under glorious sun and blue skies, meeting wonderful people and going from one special location and event to another, many of which we were fortunate enough to stumble upon purely by chance. And who better to describe this than the guest of honour himself?! I’m delighted to introduce my very first guest blogger, Giles……

Hello, Giles here! …… so, to put this in context and give a brief bit of background to the reason for our visit to Normandy, I have two relatives who were heavily involved in the Normandy campaign in June and July 1944.

My grandfather, General Cosmo Nevill, commanded the 2nd Devonshire Regiment on D Day and landed on Gold beach at Arromanches before capturing the village of Ryes and then advancing up on to the high ground west of Arromanches to Longues sur Mer where his Regiment captured a battery of four huge German gun emplacements and 129 German prisoners. He was awarded the DSO for this. His war ended shortly afterwards, as he was badly wounded at Hottot-les- Bagues, but he survived.

The other relation is my Great Uncle, Brigadier Ronnie Mackintosh-Walker who had an extraordinary military career. He joined his Regiment, The Seaforth Highlanders, at the Battle of the Somme in June 1916. By the age of 20 he had been awarded three Military Crosses for bravery (one medal below the Victoria Cross at that time). He survived the trenches of WWI. At the start of WWII, he was captured shortly after Dunkirk in June 1940 along with 10,000 Scottish soldiers at St Valery-en-Caux, but as they were being marched across Northern Europe to the German POW camps, he escaped near Lille and then marched and cycled the length of France to Marseilles before crossing the Pyrenees into Spain and home via Lisbon in Portugal. During the Normandy campaign, he commanded 227 Highland Brigade and was killed in the village of Baron sur Odon as his Brigade tried to capture and hold Hill 112, the strategically important high ground just SW of Caen. He was 46 and the most senior soldier to be killed in the Normandy campaign, and is now buried in the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) cemetery at, (coincidentally) Hottot-les-Bagues.

My Great Uncle – Brigadier Ronnie Mackintosh-Walker. This picture still hangs on the wall in the Maire’s office at Baron sur Odon

The plaque commemorating Uncle Ron on the church wall at Baron sur Odon

The reason that I was invited back to Baron sur Odon to talk about my Great Uncle was because I made a connection with the village and its Maire, M Georges Laignel, five years ago in 2019 when I arranged a gathering of 45 of Uncle Ron’s direct descendants in Normandy to commemorate the 75th Anniversary of his death. The village has a very special connection with Uncle Ron and, extraordinarily, there is a plaque commemorating him on both the village church and at the farm where he was killed and a picture of him in full uniform still hangs in the Maire’s office behind his desk. I visited the village again in 2020 post covid, when I re-traced Uncle Ron’s escape route by cycling 1800km down France for a military charity (Veterans with Dogs) following the route in his extraordinary escape diary which you can read here …. a great read!

Following Uncle Ron’s extraordinary escape route by bike 80 years later

Much of the success of our time in Normandy was as a result of us stumbling upon events by chance, helped by glorious sunny weather. While we tried to put a plan together for our visit to the Normandy beaches, it was impossible to fit everything in, so we put our faith in Lady Luck to a certain extent who frequently seems to be on our side when we are travelling. We also had to consider the logistics of moving around a very crowded corner of Normandy with its narrow lanes and small villages in our Skye, who, although being very elegant by motorhome standards, is still a lot bigger and less easy to park without causing a blockage than a car. So we focussed our attention on a few important commemorative and historical locations and special events. We hoped this would give us a good mix of the personal connection with my relatives, a sense of the wonderful atmosphere and overall a greater understanding of this extraordinary tri-service operation and of the sacrifices that took place in June and July 1944 – the planning and execution of the largest ever amphibious invasion which took place then and will never be repeated on this scale again.

The day before my talk we decided we should visit Hill 112, just a few kilometres up the road from Baron sur Odon. That was a stroke of luck as that afternoon, a collection of WWII vehicles assembled there, together with pipers in memory of Albert Figg who founded the Hill 112 Foundation to commemorate all those who were killed fighting for this important piece of strategic ground, including Uncle Ron. This was our first introduction to the The Military Vehicle Trust (MVT) which is the world’s largest group of ex-military vehicle owners and enthusiasts – 1,000 of their members in 350 vehicles of all types, but especially American jeeps, descended on Normandy to support the various D Day events this year; they were in evidence wherever we went and were a central part of the wonderful atmosphere of camaraderie and commemoration we encountered everywhere.

Our luck that evening continued when we decided to visit Caen which was at the centre of the Normandy campaign and was decimated. Having parked Skye up for the night, we took to our bikes and as we toured around this pretty town, we heard the unmistakable sound of pipes and drums drifting across the air. We honed in on this and found ourselves in front of the impressive Caen Hotel de Ville where there was a special reception for 10 British veterans – 25 made their way to France in total – who, by definition, were 98 years or older, many over 100. Sadly, not many of them are still alive and this 80th celebration will almost certainly be the last significant anniversary at which there are veterans in attendance. It was wonderful to see these extraordinary ex-servicemen who were so dignified and had all experienced and endured the horrors of war on our behalf all those years ago; an incredibly special and moving occasion.

The following day, I wanted to visit and lay a wreath at Uncle Ron’s grave at Hottot-les-Bagues before going onto the village where he was killed. This was the first time Lucy had visited a CWGC military cemetery and during the week, we would visit a few others – Bayeaux which is the largest British WWII cemetery in France, the magnificent Canadian cemetery at Juno beach, and Ranville which is the resting place of many paratroopers who were killed in the famous battle for Pegasus Bridge. Without exception, these are wonderfully peaceful places and beautifully maintained by an army of French gardeners with immaculately cut and edged lawns and beautiful plants, especially the roses which were in full bloom .…. and not a weed in sight! It was so special to be able to walk under the warm sun, in silence and quiet contemplation amongst the thousands of perfectly aligned and engraved headstones, so many of them tragically dedicated to young soldiers in their teens.

The entrance to CWGC cemetery at Hottot-Les-Bagues

Uncle Ron’s grave at CWGC cemetery at Hottot-les-Bagues

The cemetery at Bayeaux – the largest WWII CWGC cemetery in France with 4258 gravestones, of which 338 are unidentified and over 500 are German

We attended the Baron-sur-Odon anniversary event which consisted of an excellent lunch, another parade by the MVT and another service of Remembrance at Hill 112. It also included my 15 minute talk on Uncle Ron’s life, dressed in our family kilt and delivered entirely in french – it was well received and, I think, mostly understood despite my very British french accent!

The focus of the D Day commemorations is the 6th June and, while the PM and President Macron were going to be busy at the new British Normandy Memorial at Vers sur Mer, the traditional focus of the British commemoration has always been at the small seaside town of Arromanches and Gold Beach, which was the centre of the British invasion and the famous Mulberry harbour. This town is fed by two small roads and so, to beat the inevitable rush, we thought it best to get there straight after Baron sur Odon and establish a place for Skye to be parked. As it turned out, we need not have worried; the local farmer had given a huge field near Arromanches over to the town for campers and everyone to park their motor homes … and all for free. So this became home for a few nights while we relied on our bikes to get around, with Sandie on board! This was typical of the French in this part of France and while the French-British entente cordiale is a bit of a love-hate relationship at times, in Normandy, the local population are hugely grateful to the allied forces for freeing them from Nazi rule despite the fact we trashed their towns and villages. Everywhere we went, we were welcomed and there was bunting with French, British, Canadian and American flags all around.

Our campsite for D Day near Arromanches – Skye with a Union Jack

Arromanches didn’t disappoint. There was a wonderful atmosphere there throughout the long weekend and we spent a lot of time relaxing in the town square or sitting on the sea wall overlooking the vast expanse of the beach at low tide, and enjoying endless entertainment with a beer in hand and/or a burger from Sergent Willys outdoor BBQ who were doing a roaring trade! The main British commemorative event was, it has to be said, a little disappointing with the lack of a contingent from the British Army on parade and no senior representative from the Government. But the band played Elgar’s Nimrod which is always so special and the crowd gave the D Day veterans a huge reception which was richly deserved. Beyond that though, we enjoyed lots of great entertainment – frequent fly pasts of a DC3, Spitfire and Hurricane, lots of good Pipes and Drums and other 1940s music in the town square and on the beach, a parachute drop by the Red Devils – the British Army Parachute Display Team, Royal Marines landing craft on the beach, a concert by renowned 1940s music specialist, Fiona Harrison, a huge fireworks display and the Normandy D Day triathlon, … and some great characters!

Celebrations at Arromanches – military vehicles, planes, bikes, parachutes, swimmers, bagpipes, singers and, of course, Sandie in her patriotic tub!

Elgar’s ‘Nimrod’ – a beautiful and stirring tune which is played at Remembrance Day services.

But there were two other highlights at Arromanches which were especially memorable. At low tide there were always lots of military vehicles of all shapes and sizes driving around the beach which was fun to watch from the sea wall. The MVT put on a great display one afternoon with all 350 of their vehicles together with lots of their enthusiasts dressed up in military uniform and 1940s fashion and music and we enjoyed being in amongst everyone and soaking up the wonderful atmosphere. As Skye was parked up and we were on our bikes, we took the opportunity to cycle up and down the beach with Sandie in her ‘tub’ on the back of my bike with her Union Jack shade – being the consummate professional that she is, she got lots of attention which she naturally took in her stride and even ended up on French TV – TF2!

TV superstar Sandie taking it all in her stride
Follow her at @sandie.ontour – yes, our princess even has her own instagram account!

And then, most unexpectedly, we were treated to a spectacular aerobatic display by the Patrouille de France – the French equivalent of the Red Arrows. They were magnificent in the evening light as the sun set and we enjoyed front row seats for their display. This display wasn’t scheduled until the next day and we think this must have been a rehearsal for that event.

Having had the luck to be there that evening and seen the display we decided to leave Arromanches the next morning and visit various other places of D Day significance. So we had a leisurely start to the day, packed up Skye and set off up the narrow road out of Arromanches. Now Arromanches is not the ideal place to hold such a popular event with thousands of vehicles and people converging on this small town, with limited parking and access via two narrow roads only. It was chaos, mostly because the Gendarme failed to anticipate this and the roads quickly became clogged up with cars parked on the verges. We managed to escape eventually, but only after Lucy started directing traffic and I jumped into a car whose driver was terrified of reversing into a small space!

The *Patrouille de France* – a brilliant sunset display

Lucky to have escaped the madness of the hordes in Arromanches, we had a lovely time visiting several places, starting with Longues sur Mers. This turned out to be one of the many highlights of our week in Normandy. Whenever I have visited – this was my fifth time – I always feel immense pride in my Grandfather’s achievement in capturing such an imposing military objective, so much so, that I felt the need to get this off my chest by interrupting a group on a guided battlefield tour – with Leger Tours – and explaining my connection to this location! (Ed”s note: it was incredible to witness the reaction from this group of history buffs who knew all about Giles’ grandfather – it was a very proud moment…..for both of us!)

Longues sur Mer; huge gun emplacements that were inspected by Rommel shortly before D Day and pronounced impenetrable……but captured by Lt Col Nevill the day after D Day. Incredible!

We then made our way to Vers sur Mer and visited the new British Normandy Memorial; only recently commissioned, it bears the names of all 22,442 people under British command who were killed in the Normandy Campaign. It really is the most beautifully designed memorial which sits high above Gold beach with magnificent views down across the Normandy coastline. We were pleased to find Uncle Ron’s name engraved on one of the pillars with his rank and age confirming that he was the most senior, and one of the oldest, servicemen to be killed in Normandy. A few days before, it had been the focus of the official D Day commemoration with the PM and President Macron, but when we visited, it was peaceful and we were able to wander around the site including in amongst the haunting silhouettes from the Standing with Giants display. This consisted of 1,475 statues – one for every serviceman killed on D Day itself. We had the luck to bump into this charity’s founder, Daniel Barton, and his wife as they were sorting through 22,000+ hand-knitted poppies donated to them by the WI. They are an extraordinary couple and an inspiration, who have singlehandedly set up this charity to honour the memory of all those who have been killed in war and now set up displays across Europe and beyond. To support them further, my family and I have bought a plaque in memory of my Uncle Ron which will remain at the British Normandy Memorial for at least five years.

The magnificent new British Normandy Memorial at Vers sur Mers and meeting Daniel Barton, responsible for the Standing with Giants display

On the recommendation of Lucy’s Canadian Aunt Helen, we then visited Juno beach where the Canadians landed on D Day and the Canadian Cemetery where over 2,000 Canadian servicemen are buried. This is another beautiful, symmetrically designed cemetery with distinctive pine and maple trees enclosing the gravestones thus giving it a very Canadian feel.

The beautiful Canadian Cemetery and Juno Beach

A little further east, we biked over the famous Pegasus Bridge and its museum which was the focus of an audacious operation to capture a strategically vital bridge by paratroopers, after which troops were dropped in behind the Germans lines using gliders which were crash landed into the river banks.

By then, we were pretty shattered, so headed back towards Arromanches, but on a stunning evening we parked Skye up in a field above the town with wonderful views looking east across Gold and Juno beaches at low tide and enjoyed a very relaxed, sunny evening to take in such a hectic few days.

While up to then we had visited many significant places and enjoyed memorable events to commemorate D Day, it was important to understand better what actually took place on D Day and in the battle for Normandy as part of the final drive to defeat the Nazis and liberate Europe. The scale of the endeavour was extraordinary and the planning and secrecy/deception required to make this a success was remarkable – we enjoyed listening to Dan Snow’s History Hit podcast as we travelled around to give us more of an insight into all this, but perhaps the most staggering part of this whole operation was the logistical support required to keep an army of this size on the move, fed, watered and armed. This was all done through a pre-fabricated port – the Mulberry Harbour, parts of which can still be seen – which was dragged across the channel and constructed in a matter of weeks at Arromanches and through which two million men, 4 million tonnes of supplies and 500,000 vehicles then passed before it was decommissioned. It was an extraordinary feat of engineering, planning and logistics which is brilliantly brought to life in the newly built D Day museum at Arromanches which we had waited to visit once the D Day celebrations were complete – it certainly did not disappoint. It also happens to include a photograph of my Grandfather!

And so our trip to Normandy came to an end – well nearly …. On the way to Mont Saint Michel and Brittany, we passed by the American cemetery at Omaha beach. This was impressive to see and contains the graves of over 9,000 US military personnel, but felt less personal than the CWGC cemeteries as the gravestones are roped off and it was not possible to walk amongst them – but it was hard not to be moved by the endless lines of simple white crosses.

Our time in Normandy had been extraordinary on so many levels and it was a privilege to be there amongst the veterans, taking time in the peaceful but uplifting cemeteries, visiting so many special places which 80 years ago would have been the scene of such terrible devastation, hardship, suffering and extraordinary courage and bravery. And all thanks to an invitation that came about as a result of the service and sacrifice of my Uncle Ron – that was the biggest stroke of luck of all.

Lucy here again! So, what did you think of my first guest blogger? He certainly managed to capture so much of what we saw and experienced in such an interesting way, especially with his deeply personal family connections – I think he will be invited back! We both feel incredibly lucky to have spent time at the Normandy beaches, particularly for the 80th Anniversary celebrations and it has given us a deeper understanding and insight into what it must have been like to have been involved in the D Day Landings. We are both very proud to be marching with different Regiments this Sunday and to honour those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

Five weeks in Ireland; Ten breath-taking beaches

August 25, 2024 Lucy’s Logbook 3 Comments

Where to start, trying to explain how magical our time in the Emerald Island has been? We’ve been so taken by the scenery, the friendly locals, the pubs (which inevitably includes the lively music), the “Wild Atlantic Way” and the food. But the thing that has ‘wowed’ us the most has been the beaches, so that must be the place to start. Living in the Algarve and being fortunate enough to visit beautiful shores through work and on holiday, I’ve enjoyed time on various different stunning beaches, so I’ll admit to being completely dumbfounded by the enormous long stretches of talcum-powder white sandy “strands” as they’re called in Ireland, often edged by crystal-clear, aquamarine water. And the thing that sets them apart from other parts of the world? Almost all of them are either completely empty or with just a handful of dogwalkers or families, so there’s always a quiet spot to be found, even in the height of the summer. Admittedly, a lot of these beaches have been walked whilst kitted out in jeans, sweatshirts and sometimes even waterproof jackets; perhaps, therein lies the clue to their desertedness?! Now that the decision has been made to describe Ireland through her shores, it’s hard to know where to start in describing them, as our first attempt at choosing our Top Ten beaches failed when we got to 15! But all our favourite beaches sit on the “Wild Atlantic Way” (WAW), a journey that is described as “the wildest, most captivating, coastal touring route in the world” (admittedly by their own Tourist Board!); we joined this epic road right where the last blog finished, at Fahan beach on the banks of Lough Swilly, west of Londonderry. Situated at the base of a small hill with views across the Lough to the other shores, hills and islands, this beach will forever be etched into our memories as our first one on the WAW, the first our parking ‘pitch’ was right beside the water, the first where the low tide unexpectedly revealed a huge stretch of sand, yet another great sunset and, most importantly, the fishing village that connects our ancestors (see last blogpost), a coincidence we will always cherish.

1: Fahan Beach, County Donegal

Dunfanaghy Beach, County Donegal

Dunfanaghy stands out as we saw its huge white stretch as we were driving back down from Horn Head after a long hike; we had spent the preceding night there and were not intending to go back until we were greeted with this vista…..thank goodness for the flexibility of a road trip, as it had been raining the day before and we had spent the afternoon in an atmospheric pub watching the finals of the men’s GAA hurling. These two comments from the Irish paper summed up that experience; “BBC 2 is showing hurling and I don’t think I’ve ever been so invested in a game I know nothing about” (@itcould_beworse) and “Hurling appears to be a mix of UFC, rugby, hockey, football, baseball, the egg and spoon race all whilst hitting a snooker ball as hard as you can as high into the sky as possible towards goal with what looks like the bones of a tomahawk steak. 10/10. Would recommend #hurling” (@bathewmateman). So, it was wonderful that the sun shone the following day and we didn’t miss this…..

3: Carrickfinn Beach, County Donegal

Carrickfinn beach was recommended by an Irish pilot, explaining that it was just next to Donegal “International” airport – at that time, there had been no plan to fly out for my next trip, but things change in aviation almost as often as they do on a roadtrip, so we found ourselves on this beach, the night before my big ‘commute’ from the beach, across the end of the runway to the airport terminal. We’d seen the beach throughout a spectacular sunset which set me up nicely for an early flight out over the gorgeous coastline that you can’t quite get to in a motorhome. Arriving back a few days later to yet another lovely sunset, I was welcomed back with a supper to remember; my amazing support team had bought lobster and crab from a local fisherman, caught fresh that day!

4: Portnoo Beach, County Donegal

Portnoo had been talked about for a while, as Giles had holidayed there as a child (he spent his early childhood being brought up in Donegal), but I was simply astonished by my first view of it; a huge stretch of white sand, turquoise water and a path out to an island that would be uncovered at low tide. We covered the long mile of sand quickly on our bikes, picnicking at the far end before rockpooling (a must-do trip down memory lane for Giles!) and finally wading out to the island. This gave our avoid-water-at-all-costs furry friend the chance to practice her swimming as she was out of her depth – her doggy-paddle paw rehearsal just before swimming paid off, as she swam so well (and it still makes me giggle, thinking about her doggy-paddle warm-up!).

5: St John’s Point, County Donegal

St John’s Point stands out due to a potentially disastrous and unexpected reason; we broke down 😳😳 Of course, it would have to have been at the end of a long tiny peninsular, a 5 mile strip of land, when it became apparent that our clutch pedal was just swinging freely……HELP! Fortunately, we had been to see a local weaver on the way down this remote finger of land – and even more fortunately, we had chatted to her dad who owned a motorhome and Giles had bought a beautiful woven scarf for his father’s birthday, so we didn’t feel too bad in contacting her and asking if her dad knew of a mechanic. In under an hour, with typical Irish helpfulness, her husband had his head under the bonnet and confirmed the unwelcome news that it was a big garage job, but could he recommend one to us? And so it was that the following morning, Giles and I were sitting in Skye, loaded on top of a low-loader and flying through the tiny country lanes with unsecured spaghetti hurtling around the cabin as we took yet another corner at breakneck pace……another moment for a severe case of the giggles! Turns out that Garage-man was a frustrated speedy-gonzalez and the proud father to a 12 year old budding racing driver who thought nothing of moving cars and vans around the garage when he could barely see over the steering wheel. Mr Speedy was also extremely kind in moving other work to get Skye on the ramp to get us back on the road as soon as possible whilst also lending us an old “Jaloppy” van so we could still get around. It’s only with hindsight and knowing that was only a 3 day hold-up, that I can genuinely say that this was one of the best places to break down and have an enforced travelling pause; the beaches of Donegal are by far and away the best in Ireland and we also got to play golf! The clubs had been squeezed into Skye by the world’s best man-cave packer, but we were in danger of never using them, so thanks to our (rather expensive) clutch repair, we got to play on two stunning links courses, both of which were situated beside yet more astonishing beaches. It’s been hard enough to whittle the beaches down to 10, so the fairy bridges by Bundoran and Cruit Island’s Caribbean-esque ones didn’t make the cut, but it was a close-run thing as you’ll see in the photos.

6: Dunmoran Strand, County Sligo

Once back on the move and after a night of pub music in Sligo, our next beach, Dunmoron, was memorable mainly for a wonderful morning of surfing – well, we call it surfing, but we’re not that advanced, so it’s actually boogie-boarding, but still oodles of fun! Our water-averse doggy was very perplexed by the whole thing and wouldn’t come near us with our boards in case she was made to go on one!

7: Silver Strand, County Galway

Our next beach was recommended to us by lovely friends we had stayed with for a couple of nights in Westport who had fed us delicious food, climbed with us up Crough Patrick in filthy weather (with the descent in what can only be described as sideways rain 🌧️ ) and taken us to an atmospheric pub in this charming seaside town – without doubt, our favourite town in Ireland (and also done loads of washing and generally looked after us…….thank you 🙏🙏). On their recommendation, we took a detour to Silver Strand and thank goodness we did, as it would have been a crime to have missed it! Yet another huge expanse of white sand with not another soul there; Donegal clearly doesn’t have the exclusive rights to these kind of beaches, as this one is a very good contender for County Mayo. Not only is it beautiful, but it was full of bounty too, as we foraged for wild mushrooms and snails and made ourselves an unusual, garlic-heavy lunch on the shores of Ireland’s only “fjord”!

8: Dog’s Bay, Roundstone, County Galway

Now into County Galway, we headed to another recommendation of the quaint village of Roundstone; quickly added to our list of favourite towns AND favourite pubs – help, I can see another Top Ten coming! We stopped off at Dog’s Bay which had caught our eye due to its double horseshoe-shaped beaches on a mile-long spit of land that lead out to the “knuckle” of the dog bone 🦴 Having our now-regular pre-dinner Guinness in the great local pub, a Dubliner who has been holidaying there for 30 years told me about the “Tour de Bog” cycle ride the following day; 500 people of all ages cycling 40km along the coast road and then back through the ‘bog’ road with drinks afterwards. What was not to like?……so I signed us – Giles had only left me alone for 10 minutes, he was going to have a shock! In the interests of brevity, suffice to say that it was a most memorable day out and Sandie won the prize for the first dog to ever take part!

9: Rossbeigh Strand, County Kerry

Now into County Kerry or the “Kingdom” as it is also known, thanks to its spectacular scenery with lakes, mountains, islands, coastal roads along cliffs and yes, you’ve guessed, astonishing beaches. It has 3 peninsulas, the most famous one being the ‘Ring of Kerry’, but the northerly Dingle peninsula was once voted by National Geographic to be ‘the most beautiful place on earth’…..and perhaps it is! Thank goodness that a last-minute change to my work schedule had meant that we’d opted for an anti-clockwise route rather than our planned clockwise one, otherwise we might have spent far too much of our 5 weeks in Kerry and missed some of the above experiences. After driving the jaw-dropping ‘Slea Head’ route with its sheer cliffs and islands made famous by Star Wars filming, visiting another atmospheric pub, overnighting on Inch beach and surfing there the following morning, this one was a dead cert for our Top Ten……until we drove around to the beach we could see on the next peninsula. Inadvertently, we had stumbled on what is known as the best beach in Kerry; the sands of Rossbeigh beach stretch for 7km beneath the highest mountain in Ireland and overlook the magnificent Dingle scenery. Needless to say, once we’d walked the first km, we were almost the only people there and reaching the enormous expanse of sand at the tip was almost other-worldly.

10: Derrynane Beach, County Kerry

The penultimate beach on our Top Ten was spotted while driving the exquisitely beautiful ‘Ring of Kerry’ as a perfect place to (finally!) get our paddleboard out due to the rocks and islands sheltering a bay. Our aqua-phobic dog had no choice this time, as she was coming with us on this adventure – once she realised that there was no requirement to actually enter that horrible wet stuff, she almost seemed to enjoy it! A terrific day rounded off by a visit to another of our favourite pubs, teeming with Cork townies who’ve been holidaying here for over 30 years – a definite theme of the seaside towns of Ireland.

Bonus beach! Barleycove, County Cork

Our final beach (yes, narrowing it down to ten was impossible, so here’s the bonus one!) was the happy result of a bit of bad weather that saw us change plans and end up in the tiny village of Crookhaven, towards the end of one of County Cork’s peninsulas (also stunningly beautiful; now I understand the justification for the great rivalry between and pride in all of Ireland’s counties). After a night in possibly our favourite pub of the trip, with a talented band getting us all up dancing, we set off on our bikes the following morning to visit Mizen Head, an old lighthouse and signal centre, reached by crossing a magnificent arched bridge with wonderful views of the Fastnet rock. On our return, we stopped at the famous Barleycove beach; nestled between green hills and dunes, the white sand and Caribbean-blue water almost stopped us in our tracks – but the (chilly!) water beckoned us after our long ride. Wow, what a beach with which to finish!

Leaving the “most Southern pint in Ireland” pub in Crookhaven

However, these are just the beaches that made it onto our TopTen list, there were SO many more to choose from; from the windswept Maghara, the deserted Stradbally Bay, the cows on Mullaghmore, the dunes of Tramore, the gorgeous Inchydoney, the surf of Spanish Point, driving our Jaloppy onto Tullen Strand and Skye onto Tra Fhormaoileach for possibly the best coffee stop of the trip……. there are hundreds, possibly thousands of glorious beaches in the Emerald Isle and these ten(-ish!) have only been chosen to allow for a small glimpse into our adventure. So many of the beaches we visited boasted a ‘horse box coffee bar’ and/or a wooden, portable, wood-fired sauna which were a fun addition. Sadly, there was often a surplus of jellyfish, but the deficit of other people more than made up for that! And if anyone is reading this thinking that we had sunshine all the way, believe me when I say that it rained…..A LOT – it IS the West of Ireland after all! However, we just planned around it, made the most of the sun when it came out and came to the conclusion that it’s thanks to all that wet stuff that Ireland’s unbelievable beaches are so undiscovered, unknown and, above all, uncrowded. Never did I think I would be so thankful for precipitation!

Thank you Ireland for a magical few weeks. Your pubs, music, beaches, mountains, great food, ‘black gold’ and, above all, friendly people have given us an adventure and experience to remember.

To see our google maps, visit https://maps.app.goo.gl/eskFKSXQBRQdSrjq7?g_st=com.automattic.jetpack.JetpackShare

Chasing views of Mont Blanc – plus hiking the Tour du Mount Blanc vicariously!

July 30, 2023 Lucy’s Logbook 5 Comments

European Roadtrip Part 3

Circumnavigating Mount Blanc, Western Europe’s highest mountain, the 170km trail or “Tour du Mont Blanc” (TMB) is considered to be one of the world’s classic treks. However, it takes a week and involves a serious amount of planning and ‘gear’, so is not our quest on this trip, especially as we are lucky enough to have our travelling home comforts in Skye! However, we were still keen to catch a glimpse of its famous snowy peaks, so set off for the iconic ski town of Chamonix which lies at the foot of the Alp’s highest peak. Notice I said set off……it took almost the entire day to get there, due to a detour to investigate the engine warning light which had come on in Skye that morning. Always a background worry when on a long roadtrip, mechanical failures can sometimes be quite hard to sort out (I should know – I’ve had a few!). Fortunately, a Fiat garage was located fairly nearby, the fault was found (a hole in the air inlet tubing) and was fixed with relative ease. So – why did it take all day? Well, there were a few things that came out of this detour, the main incredulous discovery is that the French stop for lunch between 12 and 2 – yes, for two whole hours it appears that the whole of France are on their lunch break! I was then informed by my France-expert and Partner-in-Skye that the French only work a 35 hour week. Seeing that my last few flights, both as a pilot and passenger, have been delayed by French Air Traffic control…..”c’est n’importe quoi”, it’s nonsense!! However, before I get in trouble with Mr Skye, I did spend some time looking into it and there are some interesting pros and cons for the French system (read this, for instance). Anyway, back to the problem in hand; we couldn’t have chosen a better place to kill two hours, as we were within walking distance of the lakeside town Annecy (I’m reliably informed that it is pronounced “On-see”) otherwise known as “The Venice of the Alps”. As if on cue, the torrential rain abated and we had a lovely explore around this ancient town, with its bridges, flower-box adorned buildings and cobbled streets.

Back at the garage, Skye was efficiently fixed within the hour (obviously not too much wine at lunch then?!) and we took the opportunity to replace the front tyres while there – in fact, we had been on our way to complete this mission when the engine light came on. If you are going to endure a mechanical problem whilst roadtripping, this one just couldn’t have worked out better: *Fiat garage ✔️, *Pretty town nearby ✔️, *Bad weather day ✔️, *Other mechanical job completed simultaneously ✔️…….it was a full house! Back on the road, we carried on towards Chamonix, but elected to stop just short in the village of Les Houches, the usual jumping off point for the Tour du Mont Blanc. My son and mates (or “The Waterboys” as two were called when they joined me for 6 weeks in Spain in 2020) had embarked on this trek a few days earlier……

Our trekkers starting off on the
epic Tour du Mont Blanc

Me and Sandie off on the trek……
not looking quite so professional!!

Again, the rain stopped for our stroll around, but once on the road it set in again in earnest and Chamonix just didn’t seem too appealing under those grey skies. The ski town’s position at the foot of Mont Blanc gives it its magic, but that comes with a rather brooding feel, as the near-vertical glacier hanging above the town looks poised to plunge down at any moment and the sun (what little there was) had already disappeared behind the granite. So, we drove on through, electing to spend the night way up high beside a reservoir (water again…..it’s a theme!) after a steep switchback ascent along a previous Tour de France mountain climb route. We’d been planning this visit anyway as we hoped that this would give us the best view of the Mount Blanc mountain range, so set off on a hike the following day to another, much higher, reservoir. The unexpected cosy refuge once there provided a very welcome cup of coffee and an especially welcome rest for our legs! The clouds were still with us but at least the rain had cleared, leaving peaks covered in the first snow of the summer….

Lac Emosson is Switzerland’s third highest dam and is a joint venture with the French as the power plant is on French soil. The dam wall is absolutely huge, due to the ravine carved out by the original river. The vertiginous height guarantees a great thrill – so when I saw that there was a zip line across it…….well, you can guess the rest!……

What a rush – Zipline over Emosson dam

Tonight’s nightstop was dictated by the TMB trekkers – it seemed too good an opportunity to catch up with them all and hear how they were coping with the huge ascents and the chilly rain. I could kid myself that they were keen to meet up with us too, but it’s more likely that the offer of a big hot bowl of chilli along with cold beer was the actual draw! Cooking for six in Skye is eminently possible, however, there was the inevitable “mum, can three more join us?!”, so now we were nine. Travelling with a man who eats like a horse, our food supplies were more than adequate, but our pan situation was definitely not – luckily my food-loving man has also got spades of initiative and came back from a local restaurant with two huge pans. Apparently, he left his credit card there as collateral……which is better than when he’d gone for a haircut while I was away and needed to find an ATM and he left Sandie as collateral!!!!!! So, the priority of food preparation was sorted, now it was up to me to find nine seats; with our regular chairs, beach chairs, camping chairs and cool box, we were up to seven. Where to seat the final two? On an inflatable sofa, of course! Bought in London on my previous trip and transported all the way to India and back, I hadn’t imagined that it would come in useful so soon!

*The Waterboys testing out the new purchase!*

The meal went down a storm and it was wonderful to experience a small part of this memorable feat they were undertaking and to absorb some of the youthful excitement and energy radiating from this intrepid pack. Hiking the TMB is no easy feat as it takes in 10 mountain passes, equivalent to climbing Everest, and is the reason why it is on every serious hiker’s bucket list – is that another one for our Maybe pile?! Maybe, but for now we were content to take in the morning by the glorious Champex-Lac and go for a swim in its icy waters; ‘bracing’ and ‘invigorating’ were words that could only be used once we warm and dry again!

*Champex-Lac, nicknamed “Switzerland’s*
*Little Canada” with vast forests, lake*
*and wooden chalets*

Our plan that afternoon, now that the sun was back and views of Mont Blanc were to be had, was to head to Chamonix to get lifted up to 3842m in the famous Aiguille du Midi, the highest cable car in France and the closest we’d ever get to the summit of Mount Blanc without actually climbing it. Just before setting off, my Skye Adventure man had a brainwave; let’s take it in turns to bike down the hairpin switchback road……great idea, any excuse to get back on the bike and pretend I’m on the Tour du France! Once at the bottom, we reunited in the car park of Gorges du Durnand, so decided to check them out (discovering random gems being a constant roadtrippers’ delight). Seemingly endless wooden steps took us up past 14 thundering waterfalls falling through a sharp ravine – absolutely spectacular, although totally lost on the terrified Sandie who had to be carried over the bridges (which were somewhat see-through….. I can see her point!).

*Preparing to cycle down the mountain in my Tour de France “merchant”!*

Our next detour was at a pretty Swiss village (aren’t they all?) with an unusual pink church, so we pulled in for a quick cuppa and walk. The local map showed the TMB trail passed nearby so, despite thinking our trekkers would be long past this point, we decided it would be fun to walk a portion of the trail. Imagine our Sa as sA\% then, when we encountered them setting up their tents; apparently the lure of the local bar had overcome their worry about tackling one of the hardest climbs of the week the following morning……we know, as we biked up a bit, before having to ditch the bikes and continue on foot! It was a wonderful, completely random meet-up, but we didn’t stay for too long as we had decided to tackle the switchback up to Lac d’Emosson again to get that long-awaited view of Mont Blanc. Finally! The photos don’t do it justice, but witnessing the 🏍️ setting sun casting its pink light on this breathtaking snow-clad majestic beauty was a real sight to behold.

*Detour to see the pink church in Trient resulted in a random meet-up with my son* 😁

Part 3 was nearly over and we still hadn’t visited Chamonix (having heard about it all from a dear Algarve friend, we just had to see it!). So, we made sure we left our mountain top with enough time to have an amble around this busy town, picking up on its cool vibe and enjoying a cup of coffee and croissant by the gushing river that runs through its centre. Next thing, unexpectedly, two rafting boats came along……can we put that on the list to do next time??!

*Our long-awaited view of Mont Blanc …..definitely worth the wait* 👌👌

Algarve to the Pyrenees via running bulls in Pamplona!

July 20, 2023 Lucy’s Logbook 8 Comments

Summer Roadtrip 2023 Part 1

Since deciding to spend the summer months in the Alps, there was just the small matter of getting there from our home in the Algarve. Knowing that we had to put some miles under our belts, we elected to make our first stop Merida, the old Roman capital of Hispania, in the middle of spain. This beautiful ancient city is a treasure-trove of incredibly well—preserved Roman buildings and rightly deserves its nickname of mini-Rome.

*Merida – the old Roman capital of Hispania*

Departing on our roadtrip in the midst of a publicised heatwave currently gripping Europe could prove challenging……especially for the newest addition to the Skye team. Meet our travelling four-legged adventurer, Sandie, a very adaptable, patient, loving little friend; adopted from a rescue centre in Loulé, she is rewarding us with love and laughs as she adapts to her new world. However, how were we to solve the problem of transporting her around in this ferocious heat? That was soon solved by ALPS man (see later), my ever-practical handyman and co-adventurer, who devised an ingenious “carriage” for the rear of his bike allowing Princess Sandie to travel around in stately luxury and not scald her paws on the roasting pavements. My contribution was to “pimp it up” with an addition of a Union Jack canopy……the whole contraption is proving to be a real hit for both her and everyone who sees her. In fact, she is becoming somewhat of a celebrity as she glides around Europe and is featuring in many holiday snaps!

Princess Sandie in her royal carriage
– with her own personal chauffeur!

Always happiest near water, we escaped to the cool of the nearby mountain range for a calm night beside a river before heading on to Salamanca. Another Spanish city steeped in history, it is known for its prestigious University (one of the oldest in Europe) and boasts a square, the Plaza Mayor, that is considered to be one of Spain’s most magnificent. With its impressive architecture and vibrant atmosphere, I only learnt later that it was built to host epic bullfights – what a spectacle that must have been, although I’m relieved that this is no longer practiced. Known as Spain’s “golden city” thanks to its honey-coloured sandstone, we really enjoyed our short time here.

The reason why our Salamanca stopover was cut short is we had discovered, to our incredible good fortune, that our next destination of Pamplona was in the midst of the world-famous “Running of the Bulls” festival. We couldn’t believe our luck and wanted to savour as much of this once-in-a-lifetime, “bucket list” experience as we possibly could. First stop upon arrival was to buy red neck scarves and sashes, so that we could blend in with the mass of humanity all wearing white and red.

Apparently, around 1 million tourists visit the Fiesta over the course of the week, expanding the city by over 5 times; walking through the crowded streets and seeing the overflowing bars, it felt like it. It’s hard to encapsulate the atmosphere on (e-!)paper as, at every turn, there were more crazy and unusual sights; an oom-pa-pa band marching, an entire square of dancers, gorillas and other fancy dress oddities, huge areas of street food with enormous bbq firepits and the biggest drinking fest ever seen, with throngs in the streets and revellers falling out of bars…..or just falling!! In fact, it is the sounds and the smells that are hard to sum up – suffice to say, there was a loud hum from the crowds, only drowned out by the odd tuba or drum. As for the bars, they were sticky underfoot with a distinct aroma of badly cleared-up vomit – sorry, just saying it as it was 😱 🤢 This video attempts to encapsulate it …….

Pamplona’s riotous Festival at night!

We stayed to watch the amazing fireworks, so after a short night’s sleep our 6am alarm call felt far too early – but there was no way we were going to miss the spectacle of the 8am bull run. And what was extraordinary was just how busy the streets of Pamplona were at daybreak (or was it that some revellers had never gone to bed?!) …….with everyone already jostling for the best position in which to watch the spectacle. A balcony would have been preferable, but €500 for the privilege of watching the runners and chasing bulls – likely to be all over in 20 seconds – seemed just a “tad” expensive!

The Pamplona San Fermin Festival takes place every July and for 9 days the town is descended upon by raucous revellers, drawn by the music and merrymaking. However, most of them are here to witness – or take part in – the Running of the Bulls. Each morning, the bulls are set loose to run through the winding, cobbled streets with fearless Mozos, dressed all in white save for red at their necks and waists, running with them. As the bulls thunder down the streets, the mozos start their run at their chosen spot and enjoy their 20 seconds of mad glory as they attempt to prove their bravery (or stupidity?!) as they dare to run in their path. Every year there are a few people who get trampled or even gored, but far more festival-goers get injured from the over-consumption of alcohol!

So we enjoyed observing the build-up, seeing the local band rallying the town and watching the medics get into position with their huge first aid kits and stretchers before heading to the Bullring. This was my first experience of being in a Bullring and I’m so glad to have witnessed the spectacle of it being full to capacity without having to see a bull being harmed in any way. That’s not to say that it isn’t cruel, as there is still a fair amount of taunting and baiting that goes on, but at least there is no physical cruelty. The atmosphere was electric – we were able to watch the bulls running through the town on the big screens, just before they entered the arena.

*Pamplona bullring – packed to capacity*

The bulls and runners enter the stadium

Once the bulls had run through they were then let out, one at a time, to go and inflict their worst on the participants. These people were keen to demonstrate their bravery by running up to the bull and touching it or even vaulting it, with the crowd egging them on and applauding any particularly brave moves. However, what really got the crowd going was when the bull managed to toss someone in the air or get its horns into someone – no wonder the medics were on standby!

Man v Bull!

After breakfast (yes, it was still that early!), we headed back to Skye to get our bikes and pick up Sandie. It was at this point that we realised that we create quite an eccentric and original sight, as we could hardly move for people wanting to take photos or stroke Sandie. Obviously, the Princess feels even more like royalty now with her serf, ALPS man, being the Royal carriage wallah……watch out, Sandie may even get her own social media following!

Princess Sandie does Pamplona!

Having felt like we had seen enough of the Fiesta, we headed towards the Pyrenees for a cool, calm (early!) night in the mountains with an inevitable hike up to a viewpoint the following day. It was just above an old railway station that had been turned into a hotel, so we paid it a visit afterwards – quite incredible feat of engineering that a railway was built here so long ago and wonderful that it has been transformed into such a sumptuous 5 star hotel.

*Canfranc Estaciòn Hotel – a 5* transformation of*
*the former extraordinary station building*

The general road through the Pyrenees is by way of a long tunnel, but we decided to take the mountain pass over the top and were rewarded by spectacular views. Luckily, this wasn’t a hair pin, “sweaty palm” type, so we could enjoy the vistas……although I suspect that there’ll be plenty of those in the next few weeks in the Alps 😬 Our next stop was Lourdes, as we needed to be near the airport the following morning. Why on earth would we need to be near an airport on a two month trip to the Alps??! Well, that is a very good question! The reason is that I am still working and needed to fly back to London so that I could operate the flight out to Delhi; it may sound a bit crazy, but having commuted for over 3 years now, it is just another, albeit slightly unusual, commute. And now is a good opportunity to explain how ALPS man got his name; whilst I am off working, he is in charge of Skye (and obviously Sandie!) and getting from one airport to the next……my very own Adventure and Logistics Partner-in-Skye!!! What a superstar (does that make him ALPSSS??!).

ALPS man and Sandie
(slight upgrade to Skye in the background …..to be explained in Roadtrip Part 2!)

Our camping spot near Lourdes was just beside the lake (it is inevitable, water calls us!) and, after a long cool swim in the lake, wondering if all our aches and pains had been healed by the water, seeing as it’s so close to the holy water of Lourdes. With the barbie lit and ribs marinating, we were just settling down with a bottle of champagne for a quiet, private celebration of my daughter’s Uni results (A First in a Masters of Aerospace Engineering, if you will allow me a proud mummy moment 😊). However, before we could even take our first sip, we were interrupted by another campervan …….muscling in on “our” view. Whilst we were trying to negotiate with him, another one arrived, along with a car – before long, the entire field was full of cars. Puzzled, we asked a local – turns out, it was Bastille Day and we had unintentionally bagged the best view for a drone display due to take place at 11pm. What another stroke of good luck!

Heading to the airport the next day, we left enough time to see …. Quite an unusual start to a day that is going to end up in Delhi, that’s for sure. Good luck with the big drive, ALPS man and Sandie – see you in Geneva!

Gloria goes on a pilgrimage: Spanish North Coast Roadtrip

August 10, 2021 Lucy’s Logbook 9 Comments

It’s not every day that you find yourself inadvertently ticking something off that’s been on your bucket list for decades, but that’s what happened when I decided to go for a long walk along the beautiful Spanish Northern coast. “Camino de Santiago” has always conjured up images of weary pilgrims in sturdy hiking boots with heavy backpacks, relying on dormitories in passing monasteries to rest their aching feet – somehow I could never bring myself to spend a holiday in this way. However, the intrigue of walking amid glorious scenery and joining others with a common goal of reaching Santiago de Compostela had always piqued my interest. Fortunately for me, when I decided to go for a proper hike along the North coast, I simply couldn’t believe my eyes when I came across a sign showing that I was actually walking it; my belief that the best way to roadtrip is to plan the big stuff, while allowing the rest of it to unfold and enjoy the experiences that come about as a result had just been well and truly reinforced.

This leg of the journey started with Gloria being picked up from her parking spot – it was so close to the Vigo runway that I could have practically walked off the plane and opened her door!

Despite having been all the way to Los Angeles, the new post-pandemic rosters mean that the trip is completed in only 3 days; totally exhausting, but I’m so grateful to still be employed and, since the US is still not open, I am able to make full use of the extra days off between trips to undertake this adventure. Feeling tired, I headed straight for the beach for an invigorating swim and then a wander around Illa da Toxa. The clam pickers were quite a sight, but the real sight was when they came in – I was stunned to see that every single one of them was a woman. Not sure how that became woman’s work?!

Santiago de Compostela, in the top north-west corner of the country, is the capital of Galicia and the climax of several pilgrimage routes or “caminos” from all over Europe. Entering the granite flagstoned old town full of quaint winding streets, little did I know that I was about to experience this extraordinary city during its annual festival or ‘Festas do Apóstolo‘. Luck was definitely on my side as, unbelievably, it was a Festival that takes place every 6 years because, if St James’ Day falls on a Sunday, it is known as a holy or xacabeo year.

In fact, my first view of the huge cathedral was whilst following the sound of live music (yes, I prefer ambling around new places exploring and sometimes getting delightfully lost rather than be a slave to a map!) and, on rounding a corner, coming across a square all set up for a concert later that evening. Being a huge fan of live music, I simply couldn’t believe my luck and got chatting to a French girl sitting on the steps who confirmed that the concert was open to all. After hearing her story, it became obvious why she was sitting down; it turned out that she had walked all the way from France. Yes, walked!! I had time to go and explore the unique aura of this city some more before the concert started and was really taken by the enormous Plaza, having the cathedral as a stunning backdrop. It was also a fascinating people-watching spot as there was such an array of different pilgrims, most sporting special neckscarfs, wooden walking sticks and identifiable by the large shell strung on their enormous backpacks.

After some tapas and a glass of red wine (an essential part of the experience, seeing as the city is also known for its culinary excellence), I headed back to the concert. The whole day had been full of beautiful surprises but nothing surprised me more than the music on offer……trendy Spanish rap artists, athletically prancing around the stage pushing out some hardcore, slightly ear-splitting hiphop-type ‘music’ (am I sounding like a real mum here??!).

Unexpected concert by the Cathedral walls

After waking up from an extremely long night’s sleep (see: LA in 3 days, by way of explanation😵), I walked back into the old town from Gloria’s resting space in the University quarter of the city. I couldn’t come all this way without seeing inside the famous cathedral, so lined up with a bunch of hobbling pilgrims and spent some quiet time inside this huge building, gazing at the ornate golden altar and lighting a candle for a precious loved one. Looking up, there was shiny orb called a botafumeiro (censer or thurible for those in the know) which weighs about 100kgs and takes eight men (tiraboleiros) to set in motion. Hanging from the central cupola of the Cathedral, it swings majestically through the nave, apparently reaching speeds of 42 mph through the transepts (felt like I was encountering a whole new language here). Dispensing incense, it’s purpose was not just a religious on , but also to drown out the smell of the pilgrims after their long journey on foot!

Inside the revered cathedral of
Santiago de Compostela

Much as I would like to have seen this in action, I couldn’t quite bring myself to sit through an entire mass in another language so continued on, but not before noticing that there were several priests available for Confession. The signs before them showed their different languages, really demonstrating how this is such a multi-national meeting place. Fascinated by how this cathedral became such a shrine, I spent some time investigating and discovered that Santiago is actually a derivation of St James (James can be Diego in Spanish); it is thought that the remains of St James, one of the 12 disciples, lies in the crypt at the centre. The fact that he was killed in Jerusalem, apparently making the solo journey there in a boat mysteriously made of stone, along with the bones being carbon-dated to a few hundred years after his death makes for a real leap of faith. Without wishing to offend, I think I’ll leave it there, but if you are interested in discovering more, then this article sums it up well. However, what I will say is that whatever the background behind the origin of this extraordinary place of worship, it really fulfils a need in humanity to have a place of beauty and calm – perhaps we all need to have our own pilgrimage destination?!

The remaining few days of my journey along the Northern coast were spent in gorgeous little villages with stunning beaches, all with the backdrop of sheer granite cliffs. The day generally started with a swim in the bay followed by an al fresco shower, a big long hike and seeking out a nice bar for a drink – mainly in that order, otherwise I’d never drive anywhere! The time on the road itself was a real pleasure, as it was breathtakingly sandwiched between huge mountains on the right and waves crashing onto cliffs on the left. Spain is incredibly well set-up for motorhomes, with most villages having an area dedicated for them and most large towns having places to empty the “potty” (not the most glamorous side of life on the road!) and fill up with water. So, yet another week had been spent wild camping all the way, my most spectacular spot being just below a lighthouse on a point. The UK could really learn from this approach!

Not being a great ‘tourist’, I did make one detour into the town of Oviedo, a walled medieval city and am so glad that I did, as I had a lovely stroll through its narrow renovated streets. I must have arrived at a popular eating time (3pm? 🤔), as all the outdoor tables at the numerous restaurants seemed to be overflowing with hungry locals and tourists consuming delicious-looking food and wine. Now this is definitely a town I’d like to come back and explore (mainly with my sense of taste!). It makes me realise that, up until now, I have been one of those 99% of English people who have only ever been to the Southern part of Spain – such a waste, as the North of Spain is simply unbeatable with fewer crowds, more atmosphere and incredible food (although, you’d have to add more rain to that list!).

As for walking the Camino de Santiago – is that still on my bucket list? (I can’t really claim to have completed the pilgrimage having just spent one day on it – but I must have walked a long way, considering that my taxi ride back to Gloria cost more than my ticket back to London!!). Well, in its favour, it’s stunningly beautiful and would make a fascinating quest……..

…….but the thought of walking for days on end with a heavy backpack and sleeping in a monastery???! No, I think that I’ll let Gloria’s rubber boots, comfortable top bunk and 2300 litres of beating heart transport me whilst I gaze at the views and pick my moments for a short stroll on the Camino……for now, that is 🤔

Thoughts so far:

Santiago de Compostela’s Cathedral is one of only three churches built over the burial chamber of an apostle of Jesus – the other two are in Chennai, India and the Vatican City

The botafumeiro is 1.5 meters in height which makes it one of the largest thuribles in the world!

There are 9 official Camino trails. The longest one starts in France, before traversing the Pyrenees and continuing through the La Rioja wine region. A mere 800kms!

I need a new bucket as my one obviously has a hole in it……every time I experience one item on its list, a few more creep onto it!

GLORIA’S GRAND TOUR 2020: SUMMARY

September 11, 2020 Lucy’s Logbook 22 Comments

After a week on the golden Falesia beach of the Algarve, I thought that it was time to reflect on my amazing European roadtrip and calculate a few facts and figures…….

Statistics

Days: 50
Miles: 3855
Countries: 10 (Wow – must be the only person who has travelled more during a pandemic!)
Rivers: 3 (well-known ones – loads of small ones) Danube, Rhine, Rhone
Lakes: 3 (well-known ones – loads of small ones) Bodensee, St Moritz, Como
Tree-lined avenues: Countless, especially in France
Beaches: None that counted until I reached the golden sands of Portugal!
Vineyards: Ooooh……quite a few (hic!)
Campsites: 3 – yes, only 3!
Wild camping spots: Countless
Breakdowns: Technically none, but 3 days of battery problems and 1 day of engine problems
Breakages: One wing mirror (thanks to Mr French lorry driver going too fast!)
Parking tickets/Speeding fines: Hopefully not.…so long as there isn’t one in the post!

Time spent on:

Housework: 5’ per day (hurray!)
Shopping: 5’ per day (hurray again!)
Computer: An hour once a week to write my blog
Park4night App: Probably an hour a day……finding a good camping spot became a priority!
TV: ZERO!!!!!!!

Best Apps

Park4night: Simply brilliant for finding all the best “off-grid” spots
Co-pilot: Saved me from another low bridge (but not the road only 2cm wider than Gloria!)
Cyclemaps: (love/hate thing with this App…..)
GPSMyCity: Brilliant to discover some of the cities I visited
WordPress: Made writing a blog a breeze
Strava: Fun to record by bikes/hikes (when my battery didn’t die)
Polarsteps: Great way to keep a visual record of your journey

If you’d like to see more pics from the journey, visit http://www.polarsteps.com/lucytardrew

Before I reflect on my travels, let me fill you in on my last few days on the road. I left you amidst the grapevines of the Alentejo and, believe me, we definitely sampled more than our fair share of beautiful Portuguese wine that night. When I said to Bobby that we should have a white, rosé and red from the region, I didn’t mean all in one night!!!

After a slow start the following morning(!), we headed off for Cascais, for a party thrown by one of my Virgin pilot friends. To say that he’s a bit of a petrol-head is an understatement, so it was fitting that his birthday was celebrated in a very cool underground garage, set amongst all sorts of valuable old cars. A few other Virgin colleagues had flown in especially for the event…..

Petrol-head Pilot invited us all to join him at the famous Estoril racetrack the following day for a track day. On a previous stay with him, I’d seen his spec’d-out Nissan GTR, but hadn’t fully appreciated it’s power until I found myself being flung around the track, doing 170mph down the home straight with Murray Walker’s voice in my ear as we went through the finish line. It was an incredible 1:55 and I felt incredibly privileged to have been driven at such speed around the former Grand Prix racetrack by such a consummate professional. Thank you Derek!

Gloria really did feel like a great big Beluga whale at this point and, as I left the racetrack, I took care not to take a wrong turning, as her cornering ability just wouldn’t be up to it!! As a treat for her two month spin endurance test through Europe, she got a good clean from the Waterboys…..

https://videopress.com/v/qJNY2ITd?preloadContent=metadata

Staying just north of Sines that night, we found a perfect spot overlooking a stunning, wild and deserted beach – now I know that I am nearly back in my new home!

After a final couple of hours drive the following day, I was back in Vilamoura – well, not right in town, but just off the glorious 6 mile Falesia Beach. It was so lovely to be welcomed back by friends followed by my mum the next day; her accommodation fell through for the first week, so she bravely decided to give Gloria-living a go and loved her week on the beach, eating under the stars every night. Kudos to my 80 year old mum (and to Wonderful Welcoming Wilza who took the boys in for two nights to give us some space……..thank you!!).

Mum even came on a roadtrip with us to Sao Rafael beach, as BNB and I wanted Bobby to experience the amazing cliff-jump. Granny decided to sit this one out……

https://videopress.com/v/pnxDQXjg?preloadContent=metadata

Cliff jumping followed by Beach Club!

So, now that I have had some time to digest my big road trip, how do I feel about it and would I do it again?! Well, amongst the feelings there is definitely relief that I’ve finally got here, knowing that I haven’t had any major incidents on the way. Relief also to stay in one place (with a hot shower!!) for more one a couple of days. However, I suppose that the overwhelming feeling is one of achievement and gratitude. Achievement because it all seemed a bit of a daunting prospect when I took off in my nearly 4 ton machine all by myself; however, I have managed to overcome all the obstacles that came my way and even embraced them as, often, those were the times when I met interesting people or had an entertaining new adventure (“escapade”, as I liked to call them!). The trip has certainly given me a new level of resilience, as there were several situations encountered when it seemed like I was out of options, but I just never gave up – for instance, even though I now have 5 (yes, FIVE!!) gas bottles onboard Gloria…..at least I have a nice cold fridge!

Gratitude is because I never expected to get this ‘furlough’ time from work and am so grateful for it and that I grasped the opportunity with both hands; gratitude that I am healthy and strong enough to be able to undertake this journey on my own; gratitude that having had Gloria up for sale, sitting on my driveway for 2 years, no one came along and bought her; and gratitude that I’ve been able to include both children and their friends in my adventure and be able to pass on my love for travel and for the simple things in life.

As for doing it again, I would say yes in a heartbeat…..maybe that retirement is closer than I thought?!

Final thoughts:

Europe is extraordinary – all this time exploring, yet I’ve only just touched the surface. Much as I should be encouraging people to start booking flights to far-flung destinations again, there’s no need to go further than a short flight on a rival orange airline!
Make an outline of a plan, but be flexible and change it – often, especially if you meet someone who recommends a detour, as personal experience is always better than books/online.
Blogs are a brilliant way of scouting out good routes; I’ve enjoyed reading many fellow travellers’ ones and do hope that this one may inspire a few journeys too!
Music absolutely made the trip – I have rediscovered some fabulous old stuff and enjoyed some newer beats too; bopping away behind the wheel with Europe unfolding before me made the hours flash past.
Simple food eaten under the stars tastes so much better than any fancy restaurant!
I’M GOING BACK TO WORK!!! A350 course starts in November – so, just time for one (or two?!) adventures before then……

One final note: I have been touched and humbled by the number of my friends, family and fellow travellers who have let me know that you’ve enjoyed this blog – thank you for joining me on my journey and for all of your lovely messages of support and encouragement. There are a few people reading this that I haven’t heard from – do leave a comment here or message me privately and let me know what you think!