One of the many advantages to van wandering is that your journey to and/or from your destination [if you have a destination at all] becomes part of the trip. So you’re visiting places along the way. You may stumble upon hidden gems packed with historical fascination or you might simply spend a wonderful evening in a tiny village with a stunning restaurant, friendly, chatty population or beautiful scenery. Of course- it works the other way; sometimes a place can be as dead as a proverbial doornail and have nothing whatsoever of interest.
So as we set off north, using the autoroute for once, we pull into an aire [a rest area], to brew up a coffee near a place called Crazannes and discover a site of historic interest, ‘La Pierre de Crazannes’. It’s a mystery to us; an off-motorway place to stop with a landscaped circle and a fenced-off meadow full of white plinths and statues. We don’t really have time to investigate fully, but there is a pathway through some woods and beyond this, a car park. Visitors come and go on foot. I’ve learned subsequently that it is and ancient quarry site with caves. While we can’t plunge deeper into the visitor attraction, it makes for a pleasant break to sit at a picnic table outside in the sun by the circular feature.
We’re having difficulties with finding a site that’s open in the area we’re heading for- but Husband believes he’s found somewhere on the coast in the region of La Rochelle. In spite of the SATNAV plus the directions in our ACSI book we become hopelessly lost in the little town of Angoulins where the site should be, making several abortive crossings of a railway line before locating the site at last, at the end of a long, narrow lane. We park up opposite the entrance and walk in towards reception. The site looks raucously busy, with noisy revellers in the pool and party music playing. Reception, however is unmanned and closed. A closer inspection reveals a notice to the effect that the entire site is booked out for a private party this week. Hmm…
It’s been difficult enough to find this site- this one site- in the area. Now what?
There’s nothing for it but to consult the aires book. And yes, there is an aire here at Angoulins- allegedly with services and costing a few euros to be collected by the local policeman in person. Now to find it- and eventually, after more circles and turns, we do. It’s a flat field area between a quiet road and the saltmarsh, already patronised by a few vans and motorhomes- even a couple of British ones! Admittedly, there are no services, meaning no water emptying or filling and no ‘vidange’ for the toilet, but we can cope for one night and we’ve brought slices of delicious quiche from the ‘Le Saint Martin’ deli along with us for our evening meal, so we won’t starve, either.
It’s a beautiful evening with a gorgeous sunset painting the sky crimson and I’ve decided that in spite of it’s spartan nature, I like this aire very much…
Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com
