Days 32 & 33 – And the point of a plan is? . . .

When a plan is made and executed to perfection, it feels good. Yet, oddly, when that plan gets turned on its head, the ability to adapt, accept and overcome a new set of circumstances, can be equally rewarding.

Day 32 – At this time of the year when many campsites are closing for the season, the day’s plan is simple. Find one that’s still open, in striking distance and head for it. We arrive quite late at Flower Camping Le Lac de la Thésauque, just as the site manager is about to head off for a rendezvous to pick up her son. She kindly delays. We’re today’s latest and last arrivals. Like many French sites, it’s situated in a beautiful location, yet let down by its sanitary facilities. This time of the year us old foggies can do without bottomless and topless doors that let the cold outside creep under and over our nether regions.

Day 33 – A long day in the saddle, finds us sidling alongside, rather than onto Camping Ventoulou. The entrance has red and white tape across. A sign says “Fermé”. Despite the website indicating it’s open. A quick phone call confirms. Two more motorhomes arrive. More frustration and disappointment after a long day no doubt.

Phone calls to other local possibilities prove unsuccessful. We head to an Aire [unattended dedicated parking areas for campers – some are free, others paid – a sort of communal wild camp facility]. This one needs a payment. If only we can get in. A twit has parked his van in front of the entrance/exit.

The driver suddenly materialises from behind some bushes. “Pardon. Désolé. Sorry” he blushes

In any event, we decide not to pay. Instead head into Gramat. Another Aire awaits. [free]. We take the last place. Mrs S gets dinner on the go. Doing her usual juggling act. My phone rings. There was no reply from one site I phoned. It’s him. “We’re open. Come. We’re very close.” We’re sort of settled, but we do prefer a bit more. We pack up. head the 2K across town.

This wasn’t the ‘bit more’ we bargained for – the sanitary/shower block.
A bucket, sand – but no spade – the previous users ‘dump’ sits below the lid. We decide we won’t be sitting there.

Twenty minutes later it’s a definite feeling of déjà vu . . .

Beastie’s spot after a perfect quiet night’s sleep back at the Aire in Gramat
Our not so early constitutional take us into Gramat’s old market square.

Vegetables and cheeses galore are on display and offer. The French don’t mind paying prices that we would baulk at back home. €4.95 for a cauliflower! Mrs S splashes out. Buys one medium sized broccoli €3.20 (Tesco price 85p)

Next plan – get to Bordeaux before sunset.

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