Lap Two, Southbound
Early October, France
Disembarking from the train in Calais we feel the pace of life immediately slow. First stop is Carrefour to load up with cheese and baguettes before heading to the beach where we take shelter behind the dunes of Stella Plage. The wind whips up the sand up and sends it racing down the vast beaches in giant swirling patterns. It’s mesmerising to watch.
Under grey skies we abandon the coast for the ancient underground city of Naours which has been used as a place of refuge since the middle ages and is still populated by bats, much Rosana’s horror and my amusement.
It feels like we are always rushing through France to be somewhere else but the weather is wet, cold, windy and not at all conducive to travelling in a small van. There is, however, one place that I’ve been wanting to visit for a long time and we wait out a storm to visit the martyr village of Oradour-Sur-Glane.
In 1944, 643 people – men, women and children, were massacred by the retreating Nazi forces. There were only six survivors from the village. The ruins of the old village have largely remained untouched and protected since then, a memorial and reminder. It’s a grim day out, both literally and metaphorically.
We wander the abandoned streets among the collapsing buildings, rusting cars and relics of the 1940’s and are once again reminded how lucky we are to enjoy the freedoms we have.
The sun makes an unexpected appearance so we make a run back to the coast, just south of Cap Breton. The town looks like tourist hell, but out of season it’s quiet and a relaxing place to be. The soft warm sand under our bare feet and the strong sun toasting our skin try to fool us into believing summer has returned, but the cold Atlantic water keeps things real and reminds us that autumn is passing.
Mid October, Northern Spain
Crossing into Spain and the rain returns. It takes us a while to decide on a plan and end up in Pamplona. Given the importance that bulls have to the city I am expecting something spectacular from the bull ring but am left underwhelmed.
The rest of the city highlights, the walls, the squares and avenues are much more impressive.
In one such square we take a seat at a cafe, outside but under an umbrella, and watch the world go by for a while. I’ve missed this continental living.
We have made many visits to the north coast of Spain over the years and we take a trip down memory lane and revisit places like Santander where we camp next to the zoo and the beautiful Picos de Europa where the mountain roads stretch the legs of the van while the mountain paths stretch our own legs.
Gijon is particularly familiar and we’ve been looking forward to returning. Rosana’s brother and his family lived here for many years and we made many visits during that time. As we retrace our steps along its beaches and promenades we find that it’s not really changed much but it’s not quite the same without them.
Further west, Luarca is a quaint little fishing village with a long history that, being sited in a rocky cove, includes pirates. Unrelated to the geography, it’s also the birthplace of a Nobel prize winner (Severo Ochoa, Medicine) and home to a giant squid museum which somehow we managed to miss as we wander the steeply sloped streets. The architecture is starting to change, we don’t know it yet, but it’s starting to feel more Portuguese.
So far it’s been a trip where the weather has largely dictated the direction (south) and speed (quickly) at which we’ve been travelling and so it does again. As much as I want to head to the northwest corner of Spain, the weather says we should turn left and make our last stop in Spain in Ponferrada to visit the Templar castle.
Next stop, Portugal.
Flickr Albums: Stella Plage | Naours | Oradour-sur-Glane | Lac de Sechemaille | Egletons | Clariac | Lebenne | France | Pamplona | Parque Cabarceno | Cantabria | Riano | Picos de Europa | Gijon | Luarca | Ponferrada