Post by batchoy on Nov 6, 2011 17:21:53 GMT
I suppose the trip was fated from the start and events come in threes. First C2lln had to drop out which from my point of view was a good thing, as I was able to join Derek Khun, David Holt and Graham Lockwood on a long weekend jaunt to the 14e Festival International de l‘Air in Fréjus on the Côte d’Azur. Then on the Thursday (the day I was due to be picked up) afternoon I received a phone call from Derek, his camper would not start and the AA were currently trying to fix it, but was ours insured for France. There then ensued a manic half hour as I confirmed that I European cover and added three more drivers to the policy and upgraded my recovery insurance for the continent.
However an hour later than originally planned the guy’s arrived, the decision was made to aim for the later ferry, and everybody sat down and sated themselves on Pancit (Filipino noodles).
The trip down to the ferry, the ferry crossing and the run to the Formule 1 hotel in Calais were pretty much uneventful, though using the later ferry did mean that setting the alarm for 6.11am meant that at best we were in for 3hr 20mins sleep.
Up before the dawn, we skipped the hotel breakfast, made coffee in the camper and set off on the journey down to Fréjus. Now at this point my Sat Nav software that I have on my smartphone set with the same profile that works for our van is saying 14hrs for the journey, whilst Derek’s Sat Nav (which we will come to believe in less and less) is saying 10hrs which means we will make our evening meal.
We make relatively good time stopping only at the tolls, at aires for toilet breaks and to rotate drivers, popping of the motorway to shop for breakfast and lunch which we prepare and eat on the go, to pickup fuel and a 1 hour diversion as the Sat Nav decides to send us 40km down the wrong motorway and bring us back again, but in the end my Sat Nav proves to be the more accurate in its prediction as we hit Frejus at approaching 23:00. It is at this point that Derek’s Sat Nav gets its knickers in a twist again and sets us driving in a circle. Resorting to my phone as a backup we find our way to the hotel, only to find the restaurant and the bar closed and our keys in an envelope in reception. Derek, Graham and I are sharing a room whilst Dave turns out to be sharing with someone else. With no restaurant open those of us who are hungry resort to raiding the snack basket in the van and have pot noodle as a midnight snack.
Up at a reasonable time, we wend our way up to breakfast; the Hotel is built on a slope and whilst we are parked up outside the bedroom window there is another floor below us and reception is two floors above us and on the ground floor when you entre and the restaurant and bar are one floor above that. Breakfast is the usual French affair of Coffee, brioche, jams, fruit and yoghurt, not to some peoples liking but most of the time was spent greeting other kiteflyers that we knew and being introduced to those we didn’t.
So off to the festival ground and Derek’s Sat Nav throws another wobbly and we resort to my phone again, though we do spot a Lidls and so stop off to stock up with snacks for the day. With a photo stop on the way we eventually reach the festival ground which is on a disused air field now a nature reserve, with the public car park being on the old runway. The central display arena is surrounded on three sides by single line arenas. Ours, which we share with Martin Blais (USA/Canada) and the Eolo Gubbio Team from Italy is as big as the single line display arena at Portsmouth. The wind is off the land and people are struggling to get kites in the air, however as Fréjus veterans predict, by lunch time the wind drops to nothing and everything stops for a filling hot lunch of sausage in cheesy mashed potato accompanied by bread, cheese and biscuits. The wind then switches to off the sea and the sky is soon full. I have to say it is very refreshing not to see a sky full of Peter Lynn inflatables as most of those who are flying are flying their own creations. As the day draws to a close we follow Derek’s advice and rush to pack away before the sun disappears behind the mountains, even so everything is damp as it goes into the van due to the hike in the humidity.
The trip back to the hotel involves another battle of the Sat Navs, a trip the supermarket where Dave picks up some savoury rather than sweet snacks, and a tour around old Fréjus as we hunt down a Tabac. As it is we miss the evening pre dinner meet and greet drinks but make it in time for a superb dinner, which is rounded off with a the consumption of a large volume of alcohol. This is not deliberate, but each group of flyers has some form of alcohol which has be prepared either by soaking cakes with it or has flavoured it in some way or another and as a result we have small samples of fifteen to twenty different tipples.
Come Sunday morning we make full use of the extra hour in bed due to the clocks going back, and hope we are not breathalysed on our way to the flying field (my hangover kicked in at about 14:00). There is less wind today, and it follows the same pattern a Saturday so I have difficulty getting my heavy flowform in the sky and I am reduced to just flying the bears. Today’s lunch was Pork Casserole and Risotto. Come late afternoon we crew for Graham as he prepares for and gives a one man, three kites, six lines display in the arena, which goes down very well with the crowd, and his classical soundtrack makes a pleasant change to the thumping beat that has accompanied many of the other displays.
The only problem with the clocks going back is that we are packing away in the dark and the damp, though due to the low wind all my kites are already bagged up and compressed. Tonight we make it back to the hotel in time to shower and change before dinner, and for a change after another very good meal rather than sampling alcohol we are into haggling prices for Vlags and Dogs.
Monday and we are up relatively early though having decided on our route home and said our goodbyes we are probably one of the last to leave the restaurant after breakfast.
The consensus is that we will go along the coast to Cannes and then turn in land and take the Route Napoleon up to the Verdon Gorge, before stopping for the night. The first part or the journey goes well and it is not long before we have reached the outskirts of Cannes and have taken on fuel, but the Sat Nav is up to its usual tricks and we find ourselves going the direction on the motorway. We pull off 10km later and check the route in the atlas and set of cross country up into the mountains. Its not long before the Sat Nav plays up again and just as we hit Tourrettes, it takes us along one of the narrowest and steepest roads possible at which point the language turns blue and we all collapse in fits of laughter. With my smartphone as backup we make our way back onto a major road and it is not long before we are passing the perched village of Mons.
Then out of the blue the engine dies on us, and turning the key simply spins it over with no hint of compression. With the camper safely off the road Derek proceeds to stroll up and down until he picks up a phone signal and then rings the AA. With the promise of a rescue vehicle we consume some lunch, fly a Ninja, sit in the sun and sleep in the van.
Once the recovery truck arrives, it is quickly discovered that the cam belt is not turning when the engine is turned over, and with no possibility of immediate repair the camper is loaded onto the truck. With just two passenger seats in the cab, Derek and I elect to travel in the van, this gives us great views over the countryside, Derek the urge to steer and break as we hit corner and junctions and a highly magnified roll as we negotiate the twists and turns in the road. On the route the depot Derek receives a call from the AA, a car has been arranged for us when we reach Cannes but we need to collected before the Hertz office closes at 19:00, this will get is to Calais where we will have to swap it for an English car which Derek will then have for a further 24hrs, the van itself will make is way back to the UK as part of bulk vehicle collection which normally take two to three weeks, and finally due to the G20 summit in Cannes they have not been able to find us rooms for the night.
We hit the recovery depot at 18:00, the nice young receptionist has found us rooms in a local hotel and there is a taxi due in 5 minutes to take us across Cannes to pick up the hire car. Whilst we await the Taxi we check the prices for the hotel and decide to go back to the Formule 1 in Fréjus. Taking just our clothes we squeeze ourselves into the Taxi and using back roads and break every speed limit we reach the centre of Cannes and the Hertz rental office just in time to pick up our Peugeot 5008.
Disaster, we have managed to leave Derek’s Sat Nav in the camper, so using my Smartphone once again we navigate back to the recovery depot where we are allowed access to the camper and pick up one or two more bits and pieces. It is here we decided to ditch the idea of an overnight in Fréjus, but drive inland till near midnight to make up for lost time and stay at the Formule 1 in Bourg de Valance.
Having breakfasted in the Hotel were are on the road by 8:00am, and discover that the car has cruise control so dialling in 130kmph we cruise up the motorways stopping occasionally for brunch, toilets, tolls and fuel we make Calais by 18:00 where we swap our spacious MPV for a Corsa and immediately regret loading the extra bags. A quick pitstop at the Calais Kebab and we are onto the nearly empty Ferry back to the UK.
Apart from a worrying moment where the fuel gauge went from full to empty under 10 miles, we make it to Baldock by 1:00am and I revive everyone with tea and vampire chocolate teacakes, though there were those who mentioned noodles. With that the guy’s set off for a night at Derek’s and I made my way to bed.
Will I go again? If I’m invited then most definitely, I will even forego some other events just to have some holiday to spare, though next time I will go armed with my Sloe Gin. Though I am somewhat cautious when Derek uses the phrase 'It will be an adventure.'.
However an hour later than originally planned the guy’s arrived, the decision was made to aim for the later ferry, and everybody sat down and sated themselves on Pancit (Filipino noodles).
The trip down to the ferry, the ferry crossing and the run to the Formule 1 hotel in Calais were pretty much uneventful, though using the later ferry did mean that setting the alarm for 6.11am meant that at best we were in for 3hr 20mins sleep.
Up before the dawn, we skipped the hotel breakfast, made coffee in the camper and set off on the journey down to Fréjus. Now at this point my Sat Nav software that I have on my smartphone set with the same profile that works for our van is saying 14hrs for the journey, whilst Derek’s Sat Nav (which we will come to believe in less and less) is saying 10hrs which means we will make our evening meal.
We make relatively good time stopping only at the tolls, at aires for toilet breaks and to rotate drivers, popping of the motorway to shop for breakfast and lunch which we prepare and eat on the go, to pickup fuel and a 1 hour diversion as the Sat Nav decides to send us 40km down the wrong motorway and bring us back again, but in the end my Sat Nav proves to be the more accurate in its prediction as we hit Frejus at approaching 23:00. It is at this point that Derek’s Sat Nav gets its knickers in a twist again and sets us driving in a circle. Resorting to my phone as a backup we find our way to the hotel, only to find the restaurant and the bar closed and our keys in an envelope in reception. Derek, Graham and I are sharing a room whilst Dave turns out to be sharing with someone else. With no restaurant open those of us who are hungry resort to raiding the snack basket in the van and have pot noodle as a midnight snack.
Up at a reasonable time, we wend our way up to breakfast; the Hotel is built on a slope and whilst we are parked up outside the bedroom window there is another floor below us and reception is two floors above us and on the ground floor when you entre and the restaurant and bar are one floor above that. Breakfast is the usual French affair of Coffee, brioche, jams, fruit and yoghurt, not to some peoples liking but most of the time was spent greeting other kiteflyers that we knew and being introduced to those we didn’t.
So off to the festival ground and Derek’s Sat Nav throws another wobbly and we resort to my phone again, though we do spot a Lidls and so stop off to stock up with snacks for the day. With a photo stop on the way we eventually reach the festival ground which is on a disused air field now a nature reserve, with the public car park being on the old runway. The central display arena is surrounded on three sides by single line arenas. Ours, which we share with Martin Blais (USA/Canada) and the Eolo Gubbio Team from Italy is as big as the single line display arena at Portsmouth. The wind is off the land and people are struggling to get kites in the air, however as Fréjus veterans predict, by lunch time the wind drops to nothing and everything stops for a filling hot lunch of sausage in cheesy mashed potato accompanied by bread, cheese and biscuits. The wind then switches to off the sea and the sky is soon full. I have to say it is very refreshing not to see a sky full of Peter Lynn inflatables as most of those who are flying are flying their own creations. As the day draws to a close we follow Derek’s advice and rush to pack away before the sun disappears behind the mountains, even so everything is damp as it goes into the van due to the hike in the humidity.
The trip back to the hotel involves another battle of the Sat Navs, a trip the supermarket where Dave picks up some savoury rather than sweet snacks, and a tour around old Fréjus as we hunt down a Tabac. As it is we miss the evening pre dinner meet and greet drinks but make it in time for a superb dinner, which is rounded off with a the consumption of a large volume of alcohol. This is not deliberate, but each group of flyers has some form of alcohol which has be prepared either by soaking cakes with it or has flavoured it in some way or another and as a result we have small samples of fifteen to twenty different tipples.
Come Sunday morning we make full use of the extra hour in bed due to the clocks going back, and hope we are not breathalysed on our way to the flying field (my hangover kicked in at about 14:00). There is less wind today, and it follows the same pattern a Saturday so I have difficulty getting my heavy flowform in the sky and I am reduced to just flying the bears. Today’s lunch was Pork Casserole and Risotto. Come late afternoon we crew for Graham as he prepares for and gives a one man, three kites, six lines display in the arena, which goes down very well with the crowd, and his classical soundtrack makes a pleasant change to the thumping beat that has accompanied many of the other displays.
The only problem with the clocks going back is that we are packing away in the dark and the damp, though due to the low wind all my kites are already bagged up and compressed. Tonight we make it back to the hotel in time to shower and change before dinner, and for a change after another very good meal rather than sampling alcohol we are into haggling prices for Vlags and Dogs.
Monday and we are up relatively early though having decided on our route home and said our goodbyes we are probably one of the last to leave the restaurant after breakfast.
The consensus is that we will go along the coast to Cannes and then turn in land and take the Route Napoleon up to the Verdon Gorge, before stopping for the night. The first part or the journey goes well and it is not long before we have reached the outskirts of Cannes and have taken on fuel, but the Sat Nav is up to its usual tricks and we find ourselves going the direction on the motorway. We pull off 10km later and check the route in the atlas and set of cross country up into the mountains. Its not long before the Sat Nav plays up again and just as we hit Tourrettes, it takes us along one of the narrowest and steepest roads possible at which point the language turns blue and we all collapse in fits of laughter. With my smartphone as backup we make our way back onto a major road and it is not long before we are passing the perched village of Mons.
Then out of the blue the engine dies on us, and turning the key simply spins it over with no hint of compression. With the camper safely off the road Derek proceeds to stroll up and down until he picks up a phone signal and then rings the AA. With the promise of a rescue vehicle we consume some lunch, fly a Ninja, sit in the sun and sleep in the van.
Once the recovery truck arrives, it is quickly discovered that the cam belt is not turning when the engine is turned over, and with no possibility of immediate repair the camper is loaded onto the truck. With just two passenger seats in the cab, Derek and I elect to travel in the van, this gives us great views over the countryside, Derek the urge to steer and break as we hit corner and junctions and a highly magnified roll as we negotiate the twists and turns in the road. On the route the depot Derek receives a call from the AA, a car has been arranged for us when we reach Cannes but we need to collected before the Hertz office closes at 19:00, this will get is to Calais where we will have to swap it for an English car which Derek will then have for a further 24hrs, the van itself will make is way back to the UK as part of bulk vehicle collection which normally take two to three weeks, and finally due to the G20 summit in Cannes they have not been able to find us rooms for the night.
We hit the recovery depot at 18:00, the nice young receptionist has found us rooms in a local hotel and there is a taxi due in 5 minutes to take us across Cannes to pick up the hire car. Whilst we await the Taxi we check the prices for the hotel and decide to go back to the Formule 1 in Fréjus. Taking just our clothes we squeeze ourselves into the Taxi and using back roads and break every speed limit we reach the centre of Cannes and the Hertz rental office just in time to pick up our Peugeot 5008.
Disaster, we have managed to leave Derek’s Sat Nav in the camper, so using my Smartphone once again we navigate back to the recovery depot where we are allowed access to the camper and pick up one or two more bits and pieces. It is here we decided to ditch the idea of an overnight in Fréjus, but drive inland till near midnight to make up for lost time and stay at the Formule 1 in Bourg de Valance.
Having breakfasted in the Hotel were are on the road by 8:00am, and discover that the car has cruise control so dialling in 130kmph we cruise up the motorways stopping occasionally for brunch, toilets, tolls and fuel we make Calais by 18:00 where we swap our spacious MPV for a Corsa and immediately regret loading the extra bags. A quick pitstop at the Calais Kebab and we are onto the nearly empty Ferry back to the UK.
Apart from a worrying moment where the fuel gauge went from full to empty under 10 miles, we make it to Baldock by 1:00am and I revive everyone with tea and vampire chocolate teacakes, though there were those who mentioned noodles. With that the guy’s set off for a night at Derek’s and I made my way to bed.
Will I go again? If I’m invited then most definitely, I will even forego some other events just to have some holiday to spare, though next time I will go armed with my Sloe Gin. Though I am somewhat cautious when Derek uses the phrase 'It will be an adventure.'.
