Muddy Marge

Duilhac-Sous-Peyrepertuse

Yesterday evening, John picked some fresh rosemary from the herbs growing opposite the aire. The fragrance from them filled Marge with a comforting aroma. Like eucalyptus it would comfort us in our sleep.

This morning, we could see that many more vans had arrived during the night. The official aire had space for five vans, but being near the border it was oversubscribed. One French family had set up their breakfast table, complete with red checked tablecloth, under a tree near to their van. If it wasn't for the fact they were in the town car park, it would have made a great photograph for a French holiday brochure. 

Just after we left this morning, we passed a 'new' castle, built for a wine producer. It looked a little out of place set amongst the grapevines.

As we prepared to leave Spain, we stopped at the border town of La Jonquera, so John (who's taken on sobriety) could stock up on 0.0% alcohol San Miguel lager, and also purchase a bottle of Sangria, for our daughter in law Kirsty, as promised. Shopping is a lot cheaper in Spain than France, and this would be our last opportunity. 

At eleven forty five this morning Marge said " Salut France, we're back". We could hardly believe it was eight weeks ago tomorrow that we arrived in France, and spent our first night by the circus school. 

Our destination for tonight took us high, in fact very high over the Pyrenees mountains, and these were the smaller ones! A misjudged gear change by Angela put Marge's engine into safe mode. After a minute, we restarted her, and being on a severe incline, climbed slowly upwards, for what seemed like forever in first gear. Then guess what? It was all downhill. For goodness sake! Oh. Then there's that old adage, 'do something everyday that scares you', well we managed to fit that in at the same time, who doesn't like a sheer drop next to them with no barrier or retaining wall? 

Tonight we are in the Pyrenees.

Above us is the Chateau, which we read was, a forty five minute walk. Let's go for it we decided. In our heads we had the image of a nice footpath, oh no, try rocks and loose stones and a steep gradient. The perfect combination. We were in first gear most of the way, and can now sympathise with Marge, and the pain she sometimes suffers.

This was serious mountain walking, but forty five minutes to the chateau, we don't think so. Eventually we came across the road up, and joined that.

An hour later we arrived. The views were stunning, looking across the mountains and down over the vineyards of Corbieres. We were hot, (the temperature this afternoon 25c), a little bothered, but also quite elated.  We could now claim we'd walked in the Pyrennes. Next stop, Mount Kilimanjaro. 

For our return back to Marge we decided to walk down the road, stopping to look at the ladders in the olive trees, ready for the harvest, and at the trees amongst the fir trees, which had their autumn attire on, in shades of yellow, ochre and browns.

After two and a half hours we were back at the van, feeling tired, but a little smug, when we looked up to the chateau, which now looked unreachable in the fading light. But we knew different, we'd actually walked, or rather scrambled up there.

There's life in the old dogs yet!