It’s the eighties since we last camped on a Eurocamp site. Then, we would lug around a five berth tent and its pipework on our Datsun 180B roof rack. The pipework alone would sink that old car down onto its haunches. None of the super lightweight 21st century tubing. This was equally at home holding a tent up, or supporting a building crew as scaffolding. Bought second hand, it confused us no end the first time we erected it. We had two extra poles to requirement. Have you ever bought a jig-saw with an odd piece or two that’s from a completely different set, yet they seem to fit in perfectly with the one you’re making? Mystified frustration results until the error of your ways is discovered. Oddly, I carried those two extra poles around on subsequent camps – just in case . . .
We’ve risked coming inland and away from the coastal air. Pitched up on the best site we’ve been on so far. A few miles south of Bergerac – at Pomport-Beach – Eurocamp recommended. With the indoor pool to ourselves we swim off the day’s travel.
Today we scoot into Bergerac. We were last here about twelve year’s ago. Take the back roads through hectare after hectare of vineyards. Grapes still smaller than Birds Eye petits pois. Any thoughts of scrumping squashed. All “chateau” branded. AKA glorified family farm houses. Later in town we indulge in our first “degustation” at the Maison des Vins, where we discover that from ancient times the French have officially classified wine as food. We end up not being degusted and take away three take aways. I manage to stay under the limit despite indulging in a lunchtime panaché.
Brightly coloured trails lead us to the beautiful cathedral at the top of town. Seems the PAF have beaten us to it.
Walking back to scoot we get ambushed by a trio of fart mimics. A lone boy stands across our path adopting an unusual pose. Still as a statue. Like the type you see in Convent Garden, but he’s not silver and there’s no empty pot of gold. As we go to pass, his bottom springs into action. His two hidden accomplices create a huge dolby stereo surround sound fart. We’re blown over by the realism. Cracking up we move on quickly for fear of aftershocks.