Can you canoe in a riverboat made for two?

As SAS flight number SK526 took off from Heathrow's Terminal 2 runway headed for Stockholm and an onward flight to Ostersund, just short of the Arctic Circle, we looked at each other and said, "It's too late to turn back now".

We were headed off on another, some might say, hair brained idea. We were to undertake a six day expedition in Canadian style canoes down the Harken River in Sweden living out of the boat and in a tent. Well, in our case under a poncho and a couple of bivvy bags.

Somewhere along the way we would be catching salmon, reindeer, bears and skinning anything that swam, crawled or flew past us for our scran.

Might not be that basic but then again do you remember 'Deliverance'?

Scran

Dinner and Lunch

We are always very fortunate staying with Trevor and Janice at Chorleywood as there is always an inexhaustible selection of restaurants, brasseries and eateries within a relatively short drive of 'home'. Seldom do we return to the same place. Perhaps the only exception being The Grove. www.thegrove.co.uk.

Thursday evening saw us navigating some very narrow twisty back lanes that would have been a credit to Devon. Seemingly mile after mile of one car width road with nary a passing spot. Eventually we arrived at 18th Century Bricklayers Arms. What a quaint name for a country pub that is mentioned in the Good Pub Guide for 2017 and is the winner of the County Pub Dinning section for the forth year.

It boasts many accolades from the Times and Telegraph foodie writers. The warmth of the reception was most heartening as was the rather nice selection of gins available. An extremely varied menu was offered and all agreed it was cooked to perfection and presented in a timely manner with great smiles and attention to detail.

Mike as usual managed to 'forget' what his choice for main course was and insisted he take Janice's Bass and clams. She meanwhile very diplomatically suggested he was wrong and he was the trout in almonds. After the trout had been returned to the kitchen, our waiter returned with his 'notes' he established, Mike was, once again wrong.

The trout was delicious. As indeed was the whole meal.

Lunch on Friday.

The Riverside Brasserie at Bray. www.riversidebrasserie.com Bray is a small village with a  marina situated on the River Thames just upstream from Windsor. It is Heston Blumenthal's latest venture. He already has The Fat Duck nearby, for which you need to book weeks in advance as well as various eateries in London.

The Shillabeers had booked an outside table but as we drew closer to the venue so the grey and thundery clouds seemed to follow us to the Thames riverbank. Here we had the option of sitting outside, which we choose and then opted for the £25 lunch menu. Three courses included various champagne cocktails. The cocktails arrived with the first clap of thunder. By the time we were part way through our first course the rain had started. Deciding to 'tough' it out beneath the huge umbrellas our determination soon waned when the rain came down in torrents. Even the huge square umbrellas seemed incapable of holding back the storm. I say storm as now the wind had risen and was blowing the rain in upon us. We like many of the other guests opted to move inside. It was toasty warm. The décor inside was smart and chic. The service faltered somewhat for thirty minutes whilst the staff relocated the various diners but it made no impact upon us. We were sat at a cosy window seat and could happily watch the pleasure boats cruise up and down 'Old Father Thames'.

A very pleasant lunch with a delightful Rioja for Mike which he felt complemented the meal. Alas we were unable to walk around the Marina and admire the various craft as it was still raining. Nevertheless a most delightful lunch.

The Arnhem Room at Moorpark Mansion and Golf Club

Moor Park Mansion is a Grade 1 listed Palladian building, set within over 300 acres of landscaped Hertfordshire parkland. Originally built in the late 17th Century for the Third Earl of Bedford, Moor Park Mansion has had various renovations and extensions over the centuries to become the building it is today.

The artwork that graces the interior of the building was painted by Italian artists. Some of the most famous paintings are in the Thornhill Room which also has a stunning ceiling painted by Verrio in 1684-5.

The ceiling to the Main Hall and its Gallery gives the illusion of a dome. This was painted by Cipriani in the 18th Century following the style at the time. Visitors are encouraged to look up when entering the Main Hall, to fully appreciate this magnificent piece of art.

Moor Park was opened as a golf club in 1923.  The Rickmansworth Urban District Council purchased the Mansion and surrounding acres of land in 1937 to stop any further development which was then leased to the golf club.

The Mansion was used during World War 2 as the headquarters for the 1^st Airborne Corps between 1944 and 1945; the Battle of Arnhem was planned in this room at the Mansion in 1944 during this time in the room now known as the Arnhem Room.

Named after The Battle of Arnhem and depicted in the film “A Bridge Too Far” the Arnhem Room has been restored to reflect this history. 

We were fortunate that Trevor is a member of the Tennis Club here and so after coffee we were permitted access to various members rooms throughout the Mansion. The Arnhem Room is situated on the first floor and overlooks hundreds of acres of parkland. In addition to it being a function room it also houses a 'mini' museum of paintings and press clippings from operations conducted by The Paras from Arnhem up to present day operations around the globe.

The first floor entrance to The Arnhem Room

Inside The Arnhem Room

Canadian Canoe on the Tamar

Mike was anxious to get out in Les's Canadian with a view to testing out recent surgery. We were off to Sweden in three weeks time and had the green light from the insurance people as well as my GP. Although he was fairly non-committal. "Give it a go locally before you commit yourself, if it hurts stop". Five years at medical school to tell me that!

We arranged to meet Les and Margaret at their house so Mike could lift the Canadian and sit-on down from the patio onto the boat trolley and wheel it down the road and hopefully if all went well back again.

The weather was good and we were soon on the water and before long landing on a small pebble beach on the far side of the Tamar. Here we sat for an hour or so. Brewed up, made bacon and egg banjos and generally took it easy.

The return journey was now into a fairly strongish wind and waves. Although the water wasn't breaking over the bow it was choppy enough and we lent to the oars as they say.

Soon we were back at the Saltash public slip and ashore. Not a long paddle but enough to give me confidence in myself and the recent op.

Margaret, Les and Jackie.

Day 51 Wednesday 19^th July 2017              From:Roscoff To: Plymouth

Mile: 16880-16888    Daily:  8               Meteo: Overcast but warm

As might be expected from a docks area in the later part of the early morning there seemed to be vehicles moving about with all the attendant noise.  Despite me peering out through the window nothing was apparent. It was now 0600 hrs and there was nobody parked, waiting or sleeping in the ferry lanes. Indeed, on this official waiting area for ‘Camping cars’ we weren’t that many. Maybe ten. We had deliberately left the roof light blind open last night so as to allow in the light. We were afraid we would oversleep. Silly really. We had set three alarms for 0700hrs. The reception booths were not yet open. We secured the bed and sheets etc switched off the gas and checked all the windows and cupboards were locked down. All part of our moving off procedure. Mike even walked around to next door and knocked on the door to ensure he was awake. I had promised him I would not forget when once again he asked Jackie and I to join him and the boys and by now several 'girls' for a drink last night. We declined as gracefully as we could. After his mammoth session last evening I'm surprised he was alive let alone awake.

By now the lanes were open. Earlier than they had said and queues were forming. We joined in. Soon we were through check-in and passport control. It was now 0715hrs. We were one of the first vans onto the ferry and soon parked and on our way up to breakfast. We went for cereal and coffee. Not for us the full fat boy fry up so many were having.

Leaving the French coast far behind.

Somewhat confused as to what was the sharp and blunt bits we sat at a couple of panoramic window seats. There was plenty of choice as the boat was only one third full.
Imagine our horror when who should sit in the seat immediately in front of us but our boozy neighbour from last night. He promptly fell asleep for an hour. Waking, one must assume fresh or thirsty, he walked over to the bar and returned with a huge glass of wine. Then proceeded to drink another 4 or 5 till lunchtime.

We vacated these seats before lunch and made our way to the cocktail bar and ordered a couple of Margaritas with the two complimentary drinks vouchers Dawn had 'left' at reception for us some seven weeks ago. Resisting the temptation for another couple, they were quite strong, we made our way to the restaurant for lunch.
Can you believe it we had fish, chips and peas. It looks more elegant written in French I can assure you.  In truth we did not fancy the lamb which was the alternate offering. It was enjoyable. Not for the first time Jackie had a glass of wine with her chips.

We barely had time to finish lunch, take a quick walk around the ship before we were called to the car deck to prep for disembarkation.

One of the first off again, it was a quick drive through the customs and immigration booths and another fifteen minutes later we were home and had the kettle on.

Already the last seven weeks seemed just like a memory.

We now had to prepare ourselves for a 'Ruby Murray' we had organised for family and friends later this evening.

Better to wear out than rust out!

Day 50 Tuesday 18^th July 2017              From: Mousterlin  To: Roscoff Ferry

Mile: 16791- 16880    Daily:  89               Meteo: Overcast but warm

Depart 1000hrs Our next stop happened to be Decathalon in Quimper. Jackie buys some new flip flops and a swimsuit. We pass a pleasant hour or more wandering the store. There is anything and everything here that you could wish for if you're an outdoors sporty person.

We arrived at Roscoff at 1400 hrs. and drove straight to the ferry terminal. Brittany Ferries have made provision for overnight 'camping car' parking. We pulled into one of the empty bays. We were subjected to a ' Deviation' via three villages  on the way here, all in the backend of nowhere. If that was not bad enough we were followed, right on our bumper by an artic, which like us, barely fitted on the road down country lanes We were point goodness knows how many were stacked up behind him.

A huge catamaran in Roscoff Marina.

We make  lunch then went walkabout over to a resto that came recommended in anticipation of this evenings meal. It was closed and certainly looked as though it would remain so. We sat at the marina and had a couple of 'Monaco s'. Surprisingly cheap given the location.

We returned to the van where we read our books. By now quite an enclave of Brits had gathered. The men, armed with chairs in one hand and a beer or bottle of wine in the other sat around telling their respective stories. One guy in particular seemed friendly enough but was he loud! A northerner! At about 2030hrs a lady appeared from one of the campers and asked them to keep the noise down. It wasn't that bad and any case, 2030hrs?.

Mike thought he would treat Jackie to one last exceptional meal in France. He boiled the kettle and made Pot noodles for dinner. Not your ordinary PN but gourmant PN's. I cubed some cheese and with a flourish lobbed it into the top of the pots.

Day 49  Monday 16^th July 2017     From: Mousterlin  To: Mousterlin

Mile:16791   Daily: 000        Meteo: Sunny and hot.

This is to be our penultimate day. As such Jackie wanted to spend it on the beach and ‘top up’ our tans! God bless the women folk. As there is little else to do hereabouts, apart from  tab or cycle along the ‘sentiers’ I was happy to sit on the beach and read.

We arrived at 1200 hrs with our picnic and stayed till 1800hrs when we retired to the van. Mike to make a couple of ice cold G+T’s Jackie to take a cold shower.

Day 48 Sunday 16^th July 2017     From:Le Gard sur mer  To: Mousterlin

Mile:16578-16791   Daily:  213        Meteo: Sunny and hot.

Depart 0915hrs. Most of the site seemed asleep. A few were up and about, sat at breakfast tables. Most waved. Most of the camper fraternity seem to wave when you depart. In fact, in common with most French people they will all say good morning or good evening.

1000hrs. We are driving through the centre of La Roche sur yon. This is a big city with wide well signposted roads. Not signposted well enough it seems for the Stopportons, well Mike, who happened to be driving at the time. He decided to follow the autre directions sign and not listen to his navigator! The only thing that saved me from a ‘roasting’ was the sudden appearance of a Carrefour store. It seemed open.

Sundays in France are not quite as Draconian as they used to be. Although I’m not a great advocate of Sunday shopping. We were however short on rations and we needed to take advantage of the stores opening hours till lunchtime. Not all superstores/markets will be open remember. Walking in we were some of the first customers. Exiting an hour later, I know, how do you spend an hour in a supermarket? The car park was full. This was by far the most expensive amount of shopping we had bought mainly due to the 6 bottles of Charente Pinot and various Lego Constructrix kits we were taking home.  We were back on the road again by 1115hrs.

1505hrs. We arrive at Mousterlin. This was the first aire we stayed at when we arrived  in France. Nearly seven weeks ago! Jackie was keen to return here. There is little in the way of cafes, restaurants or anything else in the immediate area. The beach is long and wide with a breakwater at one end. Thirty minutes’ walk away is a small café. First task. Get a brew going. The roads have been busy today with much traffic. Probably because it is bank holiday Sunday afternoon. Fortunately, there were four spaces remaining. It was slightly overcast but very warm. This cleared away as soon as we put out the chairs for tea and a slice of flan, courtesy Carrefour.

We lazed most of the remainder of the day and read

our books. Come 1800hrs it had cooled somewhat and we decided to go for a stroll along the water’s edge and paddle our feet.

Arriving at the concrete breakwater we decided to walk on a little more. It was busy with more visitors and children in evidence on the beach and rock pools. I suspect the little dears might by now have broken up for holidays. When we were here a few weeks back the place was virtually deserted apart from us old folks in camper vans. We walked as far as the bistro café on the edge of a commercial camp site.

Jackie checked out the menu. Nothing too exciting, standard fare but not the exorbitant prices the hotel near the pier wanted to charge. Unfortunately, neither of us had brought any cash for a beer as neither of us thought we were walking far!

Returning to the van we had a lovely diner of fish in breadcrumbs with haricots verre, toms and a small side salad. Washed down with a couple of G+T’s. The evening was by now very hot as we were sat in the suns direct rays.

Day 47 Saturday 15^th July 2017     From:Le Gard sur mer  To: Le Gard sur mer

Mile:16578    Daily:  000        Meteo: Sunny and hot.

Beautiful sunny day. Whilst we waited for the kettle to boil Mike ran across the road and checked out the beach. The tide was on its way out from the high point. There was barely more than a dozen people on the beach of the whole bay. This was at 0900hrs. Returning to the van Mike was side-tracked by the rubbish removal boy.

Already at this early hour there were fresh plastic sacks on their holders on the beach ready for today’s visitors. But the fascination was with the row of hopper bins that lined the pavement outside the aire. You could see how one put the rubbish in but as these were sunk into the ground how do the collection guys get them out?

The answer was obvious really. A pneumatic crane. The jib arm had some sort of grab arm that connected to the top stump of the bin and lifted a 3 meter long container out of the ground, swung it over the rear of the lorry threw a switch and the bottom opened and deposited the contents into the lorry. Not knowing the word for fascinating I said it in English to the chap stood next to me also watching intently.  He was German and once more another most enlightening conversation ensued. We chatted about my youth spent in Germany on the Rhine and Moselle, Jackie's various visits to Munich with Wrigley's, the Deutches Museum and of course rubbish and recycling in Germany, France and the UK. Once again it seems we in GB are well behind. I had to take my leave as 'Feiststuck' was ready.

Breakfast over we were off to the beach. It was now 1200hrs. Yes it was a late breakfast. We didn’t leave the beach till 1830hrs. The only thing of interest was the walk to the ‘cabane’ for two chocolate Magnums, madame smiled at me. She must have remembered me from yesterday and my poor pronunciation of Almond which she corrected. Today it seems I did better as she said “Bon”. We sat at the tables outside the 'cabane' and responded to an E mail from Jill Nixon. An invite to supper on the Friday with them as hosts. Tim, Suzie and Ava as the other guests. We’re not home yet and the diary is filling. Ruby Murray at 78 for the family Wednesday night. Day off Thursday? Jackie Tracey, Sheila and Callum go to Mother Ivey’s Saturday for a holiday. Well Jackie will need another one soon! She comes home the following Saturday for a few days then flies to Glasgow for a long weekend to visit relations. Me? I’m Billy-no-mates.

The other thing which occupied us for a while was a three year old, lost boy. An elderly woman approached me, greatly distressed and asked if I had seen her grandson. I apologised and said my French was poor. She repeated slowly and I grasped her 3 year old grandson had gone walkabout. I asked what colour maillot and chapeau he was wearing. Establishing they were both blue and where her position on the beach was we spent the next thirty minutes walking up and down searching for the wee fella. She was frantic as you can imagine. It ended well as by now there were others searching and he was soon found. She thanked us most profusely for our help, which we found a bit embarrassing. Jackie said, “That doesn’t make good copy”. “What are you talking about?” I asked. "Well the papers would rather hear about English lager louts throwing fridges off hotel room balconies than this goody two shoes stuff”.

Here was me all these years thinking I was the cynic!

Back at the ice cream lorry mike set about prepping the evening meal. Pasta.

Day 46  Friday 14^th July 2017     From: Les Combrands  To: Le Gard sur mer

Mile: 16530 - 16578    Daily:   48        Meteo: Sunny, bit breezy.

It was 0900hrs and we were late waking. It was sunny. Jackie had a minor headache. Caused I am certain by the consumption of a glass or two too much vin rouge last night. There was much celebrating dans la maison the previous evening. Whether this was due to the arrival of Pascal as we were part the way through a BBQ or the arrival of Bernard, another neighbour and his wife Domenic and their two young granddaughters or the fact the Stopportons had confirmed they would move on today I am uncertain.

We departed at 1200hrs. Lal ensuring we took Pascal's parting gifts of two marrows! Mike wondered if we could smuggle these back into the UK or would border control be forewarned?

Sometimes it was seat of the pants with the nav.

Jackie had selected a route that took us across the marshes due NW as opposed to going S and the long way around. The selected route might well be on quite narrow roads! It was not the case. It was a beautiful sunny day and the drive N through the ‘marais’ was very pleasant.

Check out the size of me marrows!

You didn't know marrows grew on trees did you.

Lal escorts us out ensuring we actually leave!

Soon we were upon higher ground and were passing through fields of vines, sunflowers and grain. Numerous grain stores and co-operatives were in evidence.

Within ninety minutes we arrived at the Municipal Aire at Le Goulet. A municipal campsite right beside the beach for E9-20. Tarmac hardstanding's but with plenty of hedges between plots for privacy.

Again this was a gated entry via credit card. We were concerned that we would not find a parking place as it was Bastille Day and a public holiday. We anticipated more weekend traffic than normal. This reasoning seemed reinforced by the amount of traffic on the route here but again as we drove up to the barrier we could spot places. This aire has 60 emplacements. Having paid our E9-20 entered the code into the barrier, it lifted and in we drove. We parked. Looked up and there directly opposite us was the English couple whom we met on Le Isle Olorone. Some 5 days ago. We walked across to them and chatted, the usual mundane conversation then set about prepping lunch.

Entrance to the campsite.

We crossed the road and were on the beach by 1500hrs. It was our intention on a recce only but strolled along the water’s edge till we came to a cabane selling ‘lick licks’ Here we were relieved of E6 for two ‘Amande’ Magnums. We sat on those horrible red plastic Coca Cola seats, ate our ice creams and people watched. We decided that as it was later in the day we would merely crash on the beach. Jackie was concerned we had no towels or rugs etc. Nothing upon which to rest our heads. Within minutes I piled up a few stones, found a large concave rock to act as a pillow and hey presto. She wasn’t that impressed until she tried it then lay there for the next two hours.

View of the campsite from the beach.

Another exploratory walk took us to the headland of the bay. The beach was now pretty busy. The strange thing, perhaps not, is that on all the access points onto the beach which appear perhaps every 6/700 metres it is hear they sit. It’s almost as if as soon as their feet hit the sand from the tarmac, they drop their beach towels and dig in. Walk another 1/200 meters and you have the beach to yourself. Sheeple.

Late evening or was it early morning?

Dinner tonight was some of Angie’s soup she had made and frozen for us into a plastic container.                                     

We turned in at 2225hrs.

Early tonight. No bad influences by the Steers up till gone midnight drinking!

Just as Mike was about to drop off three fireworks went off somewhere.

That was the sum total of the ‘Fete Nationale’ celebrations. Bastille Day was over for another year.

     

Day 45 Thursday 13^th July 2017       From: Les Combrands  To: Les Combrands

Mile: 16530   Daily:   0000      Meteo:    Overcast and fresh.

Today after a rather overcast and windy morning we took ourselves into 'town' for something to eat. As usual Andy drove. We Stopportons suggested they as locals knew where we could eat and left the decision to them. It seems that neither Andy nor Lal were on the same page on 'the menu'. They both had different restaurants in mind but had not conferred. Thus when Andy went speeding past the resto Lal thought she was headed for, sorry speeding and Andy should not and never has been  written in the same sentence, they then decided to confer. Anyway Andy had the wheel and so we drove around for another hour or so until we found the resto Lal was 'headed' for. We piled out of the car and into the restaurant. It was late by now and Mike thought we would be turned away. We were! Back into the car 'speed 'past the first resto Lal hoped to visit, also now closed and back into Coulon. We parked. "Isn't this where you spent hours in that antique shop yesterday Andy"? someone asked. Andy all innocent replied "Oh, is it"? Lal laid down the law. "We're getting lunch before anything else". Lunch? It was very nearly supper time. OK, I exaggerate a bit but we were all Hank Marvin.

The view from our table out onto the river.

We walked towards the river.

Today it was quite busy, families were about and there was a pleasantly relaxed atmosphere to the riverside walks.

We spotted a café/bar which on enquiring was happy to serve salads, pate, toast etc. Not what we had originally envisaged for lunch for but hey. The food we ordered and the location was all pretty good.

Enjoying lunch.

Exiting the Resto

The guy who served us here as were all the other staff most obliging and very friendly.

We were told about the fireworks in the square later tonight to celebrate 'Fete National' and were even invited to attend.

We knew that tonight though we had an invitation to Pascal's house for cake and wine.

We returned home.

As we had not had a huge lunch somebody suggested a BBQ. This is Andy's speciality. He lit the BBQ and whilst we waited for the food to cook we boys wandered off. Lal's shouts of 'the grubs on fire' brought us back toute suit.

It was early evening and we had not long sat down to eat. As usual Pascal arrived part way through our meal. Sometimes this can be a bit frustrating but he's an OK Joe. We merely sit him at the end of the table give him a drink and offer him to pick away at the BBQ ribs.

Bernard calls with wife Dominic and granddaughters. The girls are about 9 and 15. Difficult to tell. We are all introduced and the girls lean towards me to offer their cheeks, we have the usual French double kiss, Dominic approaches and I do not know whether to shake hands or kiss. She pushes my hand away and we kiss cheeks. Can't get over these French customs. So unlike our staid English ways.

We are happy Bernard arrived after Pascal because although we had an invitation to take cake with Pascal he did not specify a time and Bernard had told Lal he would call around sometime in the evening. She was on the horns of a dilemma but this had resolved itself. We could obviously not go to Pascal's until Bernard departed. Whilst we all sat and chatted Andy took the girls into the field and they had a great time flying his remote model aeroplane.

It was getting darker and later. Eventually Bernard and the girls left for the local firework display. It was now darkish and pretty late. "Right" says Pascal "lets go to my place". "What" thought I "at this time of night"?

Anyway off we traipse, somewhat inebriated with the amount of wine that had been flowing. Pascal took us to the look at the veg patch on the other side of the canal he tends then further down into the forest along tracks to other woods he owns and cuts for timber. It is at this juncture that we realise Lal is wandering around in her bathing suit still. The shameless hussy. There is a photo somewhere but fortunately for Lal I cannot find it of her 'stood standing' like a contestant in a Miss France competition. Meanwhile Pascal is telling us of wood thieves and rabbits and hares which all conspire to steal from his woodpile or eat his crops. A goodly proportion of what he grows he feeds to his Pig. "Pig"? Jackie enquires. Next stop the pig shed.

Lal is against the idea of the pig held in it's pen being reared for bacon. Her standing Joke with Pascal is that she will creep over in the dead of night soon and 'liberate' the pig. Pascal's tales of hanging the pig on the tractor forks, killing, bleeding and cutting it up for the freezers turns the girls off. He also proudly shows us the three freezers, empty, waiting the date in November when the deed will be done. The pig is kept in a largish clean stall with plenty of food, to fatten him, it is not free range though.

Pascal with Lal about to cut the cake.

Now we are off into his maison for drinks. Here we meet Axel his son. A lovely chap like his Dad. Speaks pretty good English and soon we have consumed several bottles of wine. He keeps a large collection of model tractors, many of which he buys on E bay from England! There is much telling of jokes and merriment. The pig features heavily and Pascal is quick to remind Lal, as she is 'biting' that soon he will be in the 'micron' being cooked.

He is also very proud of his antique shotgun, handed down from his grandpere. It has lovely scrolling on the area of the breech and lovely walnut furniture. It is now well past midnight and we are conscious that although tomorrow is a National Holiday for Pascal it is work as normal. He has agreed to help out an 'amis'. We take our leave. The Stopporton's will not see him again this trip for we depart in the morning. He gives us both a great hug and offers his e mail address. All promising to keep in touch.

We stumble back through the bushes through the rear of our respective gardens and the Stopportons crash out in the camper. "No need to get up too early in the morning". was the last thing I remember Lal shouting over.