Last journey through France?

The distance from Stow on the Wold in the Cotswolds of England to La Fresneda, our home village in Spain, is about 1,300 miles (200km) dependent on the route followed, much shorter if you take the boat from the UK directly to northern Spain of course.  Mostly over the past twenty odd years we have taken the longer route through France. I guess we have seen more of that country than most French people, but I cannot say I know it well and just now, after our latest trip, I think I’ve travelled it enough for one lifetime as a campervan driver.

Over that period we have been wowed by the wonderful chateaux of that country, fallen in love with the splendid Périgord area and its wonderful Dordogne River, been tempted by ridiculously cheap houses in estate agent windows, moved by the beauty of so many splendid gothic churches, thrilled by the superlative engineering effrontery of many bridges, entranced by the countryside so much like our own in the north and then gtadually preparing us for Spain as we approached the Pyrenees, had major breakdowns of the van(s) and survived, been regularly reminded of the wasted school years supposedly learning French, had raging rows about navigation and finally, reluctantly, started to use Google Maps, chanced upon wonderful towns, villages and picnic spots, towed trailers full of anything from a motorbike to a cement mixer, carried bicycles to allow access to cities and a slower view of the countryside, witnessed and in one case joined forces with the French in revolt, received gut wrenchingly bad news whilst in transit yet have been warmed by the kindness of strangers on many occasions, and finally
 we have so often despaired of finding anywhere to eat after seven in the evening.

That last point is interesting in that the problem has increased over the years as the French have shunned their wonderful restaurants with haughty waiters, check table-cloths and impenetrable but delicious menus accompanied by good carafes of local wine for the bland modernity of pizza places and kebab kitchens. And yet we finished on a high. As we approached Calais for the cross channel trip we looked for somewhere to stay overnight and locked onto Montreuil sur Mer which promised a wide selection of restaurants and was an easy ride to the ferry. Well, it wasn’t by the sea at all, but it did boast a campervan parking area and yes, loads of restaurants, and what‘s more they were open and even more there were people vying to get into them.

 We took the last but one table at La Vauban, a brasserie. It was great: service, food, ambience, all of it and very French. I loved the strange pictures of dogs portrayed as humans, the somewhat haughty maitre d, the servile serving girl and the efficient wine waitress. I even did a Trip Advisor Review! The reviews are not all good though, but the owner responds trenchantly to all criticism which made me laugh out loud reading his spirited comments.

I really enjoyed that last trip during which we found a new pass through the Pyrenees to southern France where we carefully avoided the big city of Bordeaux, then spending a night on the intriguing offshore Île de Ré and another in the old town of Jumieges which lies on an S bend of the River Seine and has a famous and impressive ruined abbey. This may not be my last visit of course, but after an estimated total in excess of 50,000 miles (80,000 km) I no longer relish these journeys.

Spain, but not without mishaps

 

In fact we had a rather spectacular blow out on the M25 as we headed for Dover, even the tyre man was impressed when I took the wheel in to be reshod the next day. And then Lane’s my favourite micro pub in the port had closed which was sad: such a friendly place.

France was interesting regarding Covid. In the north they insisted on seeing our vaccination passports and checking that we were double vaxed. In the south they merely asked if we had been vaccinated and took our word for it. In Spain no questions asked though they did seem obsessively attached to their masks – even in the open air.

After a Covid imposed delay of two years we arrived at our Spanish village as night began to fall and struggled up the steep hill with our bits and pieces. The first great surprise was that the tiny grape tree that we  planted in a hole that I made in the road beside our garage had done really well, and the rose on the other side was, well, a little overwhelming.

That was the good news. The bad news was - I couldn’t get in. The door from the garage was completely seized, just could not turn the key in the lock. No worries, we have another door in the street behind our house two level up – but that too was stuck. This was getting worrying, though we could, of course, have retreated to the motor caravan. However I persisted with the second door and finally got that key to turn, yet still that door would not move – it was firmly jammed. Finally I had to use the policeman’s hard shoulder and bashed it open. What a relief when it finally gave way and we could enter our Spanish home.

Nonetheless, this left me with two problems doors to fix. The lower one I had to cut through with my stone cutter which made a hell of a mess of the door and its lock, so I had to spend many hours fitting a new locking arrangement and renovating the gaping holes left by the old one. I’ve also had to employ our friend Alberto, the blacksmith’s son, to grind down the metal frame of the other door so that we have access to our very old and neglected house. Then there’s the casseta and the huerto, the latter completely overgrown but yielding some delicious grapes and figs, a pleasure which was somewhat dulled when I noticed that some bastards had stolen my carefully installed tank which captures the rainwater which I then pump up to the casseta itself. It took me many hours and a quite a lot of Euros to install that thing and without it the lower part of the casseta is bound to flood and slowly subside into the ground.

All that said it’s nice to be back and to meet those who have survived Covid, seems that out village offered some sort of refuge from the crowded city of Barcelona during the pandemic. La Fresneda also has invested in a rash of parking places (mostly inaccessible to a motor caravan) plus a wealth of new, antique looking, LED street lamps. Luminous Electrical Displays to accompany the Loudspeaker Elucidation Distribution system which provides us all with important local news regarding deaths and markets. Bueno!

Before we go (to Spain)

A quick blog before we set off for Spain to see if the house and the caseta are still there. Should be an interesting trip, haven’t been over for some two years. One thing which will have changed, my motorbike will not be in the garage. Someone from a neighbouring town offered to buy it during the lock downs and I let it go (Yamaha XT600 for those interested in such things) so it’s the push bike or the van whilst there this time.

Before setting out I managed to finish another video for my Oxford Channel. This one is a bit different as you will see from the description below taken from the video. Have a look, any comments always welcome.

The video tells a remarkable story of three generations of an Indian family of royal descent. Their family name is Ali Khan Pataudi and their tale could be entitled two cricketers and a Bollywood film star. That would be remarkable in itself, but it’s their connection to Oxford which brings them to the Rob’s Oxford channel and that too is remarkable. In fact each of them attended the same college, Balliol College, during their student days at Oxford University. The video shows the college both inside and out with particular emphasis on its frontage and dining hall. It is the second oldest of Oxford’s 39 colleges and provided an impressive, architectural and historical background for the three students.

In the days of the British Empire the family ruled a small princely state called Pataudi located near to New Delhi, they were rich and remain so, Saif Ali Khan bought back Pataudi Palace and lives there to this day. The head of state was called the Nawab and Saif still uses this title.

The most senior of the three students, Iftikhar, played cricket for the Oxford team whilst at Balliol and achieved a record innings score against Cambridge. His son Mansur (sometimes Mansoor), also called Tiger, became the captain of the Oxford team in his day despite a serious injury to his eye in a motorcar accident. Both men had cricket careers subsequently playing for both India and England.

Tiger married a famous Bollywood star, Sharmila Tagore, a descendant of Rabindranath Tagore the world famous philosopher and poet. Their daughter Soha came to Balliol to study Modern History and apparently is the only one of the three to graduate. After beginning a career as a finance adviser with CityGroup she followed her brother Saif into Bollywood stardom.

The video mentions some of the other famous people who have studied at Balliol including four prime ministers of the UK: Boris Johnston, Edward Heath, Harold MacMillan and H H Asquith. It also explains the role of a famous master of the college, Benjamin Jowett in regard to educating Indians at Oxford and educating British men for the Indian Civil Service, the latter including George Nathaniel Curzon who became a Viceroy of British India.

Two ways to meet Edward Jenner

Well, I did that walk to my roots. It took me four days following the Gloucestershire Way from my home at Stow on the Wold to Tewksbury and then down the Severn Way to my birthplace at Berkeley. The going was hard, the rucksack heavy and the sun burningly hot.  I wild-camped for the entire journey and spent the last night in a park (was a field in my day) overlooked by the house I lived in sixty odd years before.

Returning to Berkeley brought back many memories of my boyhood and I wrote pretty detailed notes of both the journey and my visit when I returned. Here’s an extract which concerns the most famous resident of my home town, a man often mentioned nowadays, the man who first practiced vaccination.

I walked towards a place that I have very fond memories of called The Brook: it is a fresh water river that leads into The Millstream and is below the famous Berkeley Castle. On the way I turned off the High Street to take a look at the church. As I walked through the narrow lane, as I had done on so many Sundays in the past, I came upon Edward Jenner's house. This was a bit confusing for me  because I was certain it had been somewhere else when I lived in Berkeley. This house was large, white and smart and very near to the church itself. Anyway I wandered in to the grounds to have a closer look but unfortunately saw signs saying tours were only by appointment. Then I saw a man wearing a face mask at the side of the house and went towards him. He greeted me and said can I help you? I told him a little of what I was doing and of my background and connection with Berkeley. I also told him that we in Stow-on-the-Wold had experienced a wonderful talk by the man who ran this museum which was Edward Jenner's house. He then removed his mask with a flourish and it was him! The very man who delivered that talk over Zoom. He was clearly pleased that it had been such a success and told me that he had really enjoyed the presentation at Stow-on-the-Wold himself.

After that he said, “Would you like to come in and see the garden?” Would I? Of course I would. He showed me the various growing areas all of which were planted with things grown from seed catalogues which were available at the time of Jenner. We talked of various things and he took me to the place where the vaccinations were carried out in Jenner's day: a funny little hut made of stone but faced with wood and with a thatched roof. Rather nice, though I wondered whether it really looked like that in the past. He then showed me where the grapes (special ones) were grown and also the old boiler that had heated that area. I told him that I used to go to Sunday school thereabouts but I couldn't remember the big house and he explained that the house had then been the vicarage in fact. And a smaller place alongside, near where I first met him, was used for Sunday schools and so on. I couldn't remember that either but the whole religious thing may have been dropped from my childhood memory. He also told me that the original Jenner House was somewhere else in Berkeley and Jenner had moved into this house later in life. Then the house became the vicarage (as it was in my day) until the Edward Jenner Trust bought it from the church some years ago and turned it into the Jenner Museum. The Trust is funded by grants and gifts and from the income provided by people visiting the museum. At the end of my tour of the gardens we parted. He said to me have a good day and I said to him you have made my day, and I really meant it.

Trialing a trailer and Cecil Rhodes’ Oxford

 

I’m planning a trip to my roots – walking of course and wild camping as usual. The trouble with the camping thing is the packhorse thing. I have to carry all the usual stuff needed for a trip plus the tent, sleeping bag and mat. Individually everything is light. Altogether they weigh a ton, well that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I can tell you that it’s quite a struggle to lift the complete bundle onto my back and bearing it is incredibly wearing.

So I made myself a trailer. Bought a defaced wheelie bin for twenty pounds and did some serious conversion work then took it for a prototype test. Here it is facing a narrow bridge. Hell of a job to get it over and stiles were equally difficult. That aside it worked OK but after 10 miles or so I developed a very serious pain in my hip and could hardly carry on, then the handles began to drop off. Had to stop at a pub for anaesthetic relief, but even so it was an awful journey. Hence it’s back to carrying everything on my back – like a snail.

Today I reached 10,000 views on my Rob's Oxford YouTube channel and added my 20th video. This one is titled Cecil Rhodes' Oxford and gives the background to his life and the controversial statue on his college: Oriel. Have a look. 

Guiding and video creation: the new normal?

 

The guiding scene is looking up. Though I had just one visitor on my most recent Tolkien and Lewis tour, my more general one this coming Saturday is fully booked. Still can’t enter colleges of course, but I believe the Oxford experience is still worthwhile. It is nice to be out and about in Oxford again and last week I spent three successive evenings in my once regular watering holes including: the Rose and Crown, the Gardener’s Arms and the Seacourt Bridge. All very different, all very special.

Meanwhile I am still making videos, an activity which, for the moment at least, has supplanted writing. I have a great working area for my movie making: it’s a square room built into the eaves of an extension of our place in the Cotswolds. Here I have my stand-up workplace for the laptop and my green screen and other accoutrements for video production. Three walls of this room are lined with books: they glower resentfully at me as I struggle with the video editor. Mostly they gather dust nowadays, the only ones I make much use of are my own (to check Oxford facts sometimes) and the Encyclopaedia Britannica volumes which make useful stands for the camera etc. Sad in a way, but think of the trees we are saving nowadays.

I have just finished two videos. They are part of a new series featuring the most beautiful colleges of Oxford. The first one is an introduction and the second is a spotlight video on Magdalen College, hopefully the first of many visual portrayals of these wonderful institutions. Here’s the thumbnails. Just onn the links above view.