Monday 2 September - Calais

Where's Bertie? He's in the company of many other British vans, in the motorhome parking area at the Cite Europe shopping centre, next to the Eurotunnel terminal.
Weather: Mainly sunny, max 21 degrees and windy in Calais.

I went to bed last night, and woke this morning, unable to decide whether I was coming down with a cold or if it was an allergic reaction to something. I felt fine bar a bit of snottiness, but decided to err on the side of caution and run just one lap of the waymarked 8.7km route by the lake. Mick, only a few weeks away from his half-marathon, ran two and bit laps, making it his longest run for a good few years.

My shorter outing was also advantageous as it gave me chance to do stuff around Bertie so we didn't need to rush to leave by 11am, so as to make our appointment at our motorhome dealer.

We've never been impressed by Campirama's post-sale customer service, and today we were frustrated again. Firstly, we had to sit outside for a couple of hours because they'd failed to tell us, during all of the correspondence arranging an appointment for a Monday morning, that they don't open on Monday mornings. Then, once we did get inside and finally get to talk to the right person, we found they couldn't do what we had gone there for them to do (all of which had been set out in multiple emails). I'm glad we hadn't gone very far out of our way to get there or I may have ranted a lot more. We came away with an appointment in January, so we now know the date upon which next year's first tour will start!

Bertie almost knows his own way from the dealer's premises to Calais, so many times has he driven it, although we did throw him by diving into a petrol station en-route (where we payed only 38c/litre for LPG, versus the 48c we would have paid if we'd been successful in Luxembourg yesterday).

And that's it. Another trip is over. In twelve hours from now (assuming the shuttles are running to time), we'll be under the English Channel.

Sunday 1 September - Harelbeke

Where was Bertie? He spent the night at the Aire at Harelbeke, where he has stayed quite a few times before. It's still €5 per night including electricity, water and wifi.
Weather: Sunny but a full 10 degrees cooler than the recent high temperatures, only reaching the low twenties.

Bertie on the campsite at Houyet, with Christine's tent alongside. The lack of immediate neighbours (a good thing!) was because we had chosen the cheaper option of a pitch away from the river.

A few weeks ago, I enjoyed a mains water shower at a public swimming pool. However, that was in a busy communal shower room. Yesterday I revelled in my first 'proper' shower since 8 June (i.e. mains water in my own cubicle). It was gloriously powerful with a full 7 minutes of hot water. Upon hearing my reports, Mick fully intended to go and experience the phenomenon for himself, and was disappointed about eight hour later to realise that he'd got sidetracked and forgotten to do so. Never mind, we'll be home on Tuesday where we'll soon tire of such conveniences and be itching to be on the road again*.

Just after returning (sparkling clean!) to Bertie, Christine came and joined us for breakfast...

The third course of Christine's breakfast of champions: cheesecake and ice-cream.

...whereafter a few more hours of tea drinking and chatting ensued.

Eventually she had to conclude that her walk wasn't going to walk itself, so we bade her happy travels and waved her off. We would then have left the campsite ourselves, except the reception desk had just closed for lunch and we hadn't yet paid.

Over our own lunch I perused the map and gave Mick the options for where we could spend the night (they were: 1) the place next to the boat lift; 2) the place where there may be prostitutes in the bushes; or 3) Harelbeke. We've been to all three before, so these were meaningful descriptions!). Harelbeke was his preference and at around quarter past three we arrived.

Having been there more than a couple of times before, I expected there would be space on a Sunday afternoon, and so there was. However, within an hour of our arrival, it wasn't just full, but another six vans had driven away disappointed.

Having had barely any exercise all day, my priority after getting settled was a walk around the nearby lake. Gosh, that was busy! We've circuited that lake many times before (both walking and running) and have never seen even a quarter that number of people as were there yesterday.

The first time we were here and walked past this windmill the pond had overflowed, covering the path. The water must be 8-10 feet lower at the moment.

The lake


^{(*It's a wonderful thing that we can have a shower in Bertie any time we want (albeit with half an hour's notice if we want hot water), but whilst the 'water on - water off - soap up - quick rinse' process may keep us clean, it feels gloriously indulgent to be able to just stand under hot water for several minutes every now and then.)}

Saturday 31 August - Houyet (Belgium)

Where was Bertie He spent the night at a campsite in Houyet, Belgium. For Bertie, three adults and a small tent it cost €25.50, including electricity. Approx location: 50.18923, 5.00757.
Weather: Another gloriously sunny day and hot (low 30s).

Saturday's parkrun, my 11th of our 12 weeks in Germany, was good. It was a pity that I came in one second behind my PB (I can recount four different things that slowed me down by at least a second each, including path-blocking children and a wayward dog), but I was first female in a total field of 43, more than half of whom were women, so that was pleasing. I probably wouldn't have covered the final mile so fast if it hadn't been for my realisation at the turn-around point on the tow-path that: a) I hadn't seen another woman amongst the front runners; and b) the person behind me was not only female but looked like she might be in my age category. It may not be a race, but both bits of knowledge spurred me on.

With a rendezvous in Belgium just a few hours hence, we hung around at the finish a while chatting to the other British tourists, but didn't have time to go for the post-run coffee. Instead, ten minutes later we were having cold showers in Lidl's car park, to make ourselves decent before heading into the store. We'd forgotten to put the water on to heat earlier in the morning, but the benefit of cold showers is that they're generally speedy and don't use much water!

A quick revisit to the Stellplatz was needed on our way to the motorway, to retrieve our €50 key deposit (reception had been closed when we left earlier), then off to Belgium via Luxembourg we went.

In Luxembourg we stopped for cheap fuel (success: 110.9/litre) and for LPG (fail*, but we had to queue for ages to be able to exit the fuel station), then drove on through to our rendezvous point with Christine Thürmer (trail name: German Tourist).

Christine is, to the best of her knowledge, the furthest-walked woman in the world. Amongst her extensive backpacking CV she has walked the length and breadth of Europe and she is currently walking the top-left to bottom-right diagonal - from Ireland to Greece. Last week I got in touch to see if there was a possibility that our routes (us driving, her walking) might coincide as we crossed Belgium.

In the last few years Christine has become a best-selling author within Germany, with regular appearances in the media and on talk shows, and thus she has a huge following on social media. Usually when people get in touch to meet up with her (which happens a lot), she politely declines.

Fortunately for us, our history predates her fame, although none of us can now remember how we first came to know of each other. We do, however, all remember the convenient coincidence of time and place that allowed us to meet up on a narrow boat upon which she was travelling various British waterways a few years ago.

This time we managed another convenient time/place coincidence. Christine's usual night-stops are hidden away in forests. However, on the very night that we were going to be driving up the E411 motorway, she was planning to stay at a campsite just a couple of kilometres away. She almost never stays on campsites (it was a need to wash her clothes and charge her electronics that forced her there this weekend), making it an even more happy coincidence.

Arriving at the chosen campsite it all seemed very quiet (i.e. not a single tent or tourer) and the chap who came out to see what we wanted broke the news that they were closed for a special event. I explained as best I could (in French) about our friend's walk and that we were meeting her, but he was unmoved. I asked if he would let just her stay, in a small tent, but 'non'.

A revised plan was agreed, Bertie was relocated to Houyet and after a late lunch I thought I'd head out to see if I could intercept Christine on her way in. The only potential flaw in my plan was that I wasn't entirely sure whether I was on the right path. Reaching a multi-way junction I dithered and decided not to continue. If I was on the wrong path there was the danger that she would arrive at Bertie and I would be half an hour away. However, in turning around I had the niggling feeling that I would later find that I had given up a few moments too soon (

as I did when I went in search of Mick in April this year

). The niggling feeling proved to be correct: I arrived back at Bertie and Christine followed two minutes later.

The rest of the afternoon and evening went by in a swirl of incredibly wide-ranging conversation interspersed with a three-course meal, all served al-fresco in the heat of the evening.

Darkness was well upon us by the time Christine declared a need to sleep. She retired to her tent, Mick put away the table and chairs and I went into Bertie. I was soon back outside, telling Mick that Bertie was filled with hundreds of tiny flies and a hornet. At some point after dark, we must have left the door flyscreen open. Ooops.

Mick later confessed he assumed I meant a few flies and a wasp. I didn't. Once we'd managed to lure the hornet outside the midgey-sized things were dealt with via the vacuum cleaner. It was about an hour before we'd got the number down sufficiently to go to bed.

It had been a full but (save for the fly/hornet debacle and the closed campsite panic) excellent day.



^{(*actually, not a bad thing as it turns out LPG is currently cheaper in Belgium than in Luxembourg)}

Friday 30 August - Merzig

Where was Bertie? He was still at the Stellplatz in Merzig.
Weather: Wall-to-wall sunshine and hot.

I'm three days behind myself, so time for a mini-glut of blog posts to catch up, starting with Friday, when not much happened, so I should be able to cover it in relatively few words*.

The morning saw us do a recce of the first third (the complicated-looking portion) of the parkrun course. Thanks to the council having installed permanent parkrun waymarker signs, it was easy to follow. We did, however, arrive back in the main section of the park, having gone alongside a main road and taken a wiggly route around a tiny animal park (including another bit of road-side pavement), wondering why they'd made such a convoluted course rather than just doing an out-and-back along the river tow-path (which is where the other two-thirds of the course runs). It was what it was, though, so suitably reassured that we knew where we would be going the following morning, off we went to a nearby shopping centre.

Permanent waymarkers for the parkrun course - never seen such before.

Just before the animal park came a pond...

...then a zig-zagging route between the animal enclosures...

...before taking to the riverside.

Our purpose at the shopping centre was simply to buy some stamps, but we got side-tracked by a 'wok' fast food outlet and opted for an early lunch in lieu of elevenses (the bakery/coffee shop outlet next door would perhaps have won our custom if their tables hadn't all been occupied).

Back at Bertie by early in the afternoon, we set about sitting outside, melting gently in the heat. A while later a British motorhome** pulled up and its driver, Jeff, came to ask us how to gain access to the Stellplatz.

Jeff came back for a chat once he'd checked in*** and as he left he invited us over later in the evening. So, after tea we nipped over. Mick was insistent that we would only be gone five or ten minutes and thus we didn't need to shut the windows or lock up properly. It turned out that my prediction ("We'll be chatting for hours!") was the accurate one. Not only was Jeff ex-RAF, but both he and Mrs. Jeff (if she told us her name, we instantly forgot it) used to work for the same company as I did back in the 1990s. A good hour after darkness had fallen I suggested that maybe it was time to return to Bertie.

It was a late night (we'd not done the dishes or tidied away before we nipped out so chores were waiting on our return), with an alarm set for an early morning and we went to bed with the sound of music emanating from the venue behind Bertie.

^{(*Ha! Who am I kidding?!
**I said a few days back that we had only seen half a dozen or so British registered vans during our three months in Germany. With Merzig being a funnel point for those travelling back to Channel ports via Luxembourg we saw four other Brit vans during our two day stay. So, perhaps there are significant number of Brits touring Germany after all, it's just a big country with lots of places to stay.
***Until we met Jeff, the €7.50/night fee for the Stellplatz didn't feel unreasonable. Then he was allocated a space in a separate no-electric area. What we weren't told on check-in that there was a no-electric option at just €2.50 per night (we asked how much electric cost and was told it was included in the €7.50). I would never choose to pay €5 per night for electric! We usually only get through around 0.5kWh per day.)}