Safe Return Doubtful

Kerrigou beach was the perfect spot to be within fifteen minutes drive from the Roscoff ferry. But tell no one. It’s a six vehicle car park and neither the space nor the access road would be big enough for anything more than a medium wheel base van. Notably, it isn’t on any of the campervan stay apps, and long may it remain so. There are residential houses nearby, but the culture in France is tolerant, but it essential to be quiet, respect locals who arrive in cars to run and walk their dog and leave nothing. Once shared, motorhomes by the dozen would turn up. Like sheep. 

I spent quite a bit of time talking with the homeless guy living in his car. He seemed happy enough, and I did probe him gently with questions to be satisfied that he was, and offered him dinner, though he said he had eaten. It’s one thing living in a car, another in a Seat Ibiza that looked trashed. He did say a reason that he was here was that he loved the beach so much, and he did spend most of his time there. It was only about twenty metres away. 

I spoke to a few dog walkers also, as their dogs if off-leash, would come over and greet Roja. A lady told me something I didn’t know, that most French dogs born in a certain year are named with a specific letter, like car registrations. Her puppy was six months, named Viken, meaning seaweed, as last year’s letter was V. I’m quite surprised I didn’t know this, and even resorted to the internet to check it out. 

We managed two splendid mornings walking on the beach, in the fine weather that seems all over Northern Europe at present. And in the afternoons I caught up with some of my accountancy work due now the tax year has ended. 

The ferry was the first of the season to leave Roscoff for Plymouth, they don’t run in the winter, and left at 9 am. I took Roja to the beach for half an hour before 7 am, too early for sunrise, and was speedily through the check-in process at the terminal. It was a smaller boat than the one I came over on, but it does seem some terminals are just more efficient than others. Roscoff was good, the Shuttle terminals are, but Portsmouth much less so. 

It was the announcement of the International Booker Shortlist yesterday, and I had been saving a book that mad the cut for the crossing, Small Boat by Vincent Delecroix, not because I expected to enjoy it, the reverse in fact, but because it would have more effect, and it certainly did. 

I drove to Hawford, just outside Worcester, from Plymouth where friends live and spent a fine spring evening with their family sat outside with a barbecue, fire pit and a few beers. I had been here 94 days ago also, then with snow. 

We were back in Shap just after lunch on Thursday. Hawford splits the journey almost exactly in half, three and a half hours drive each time. Shap is at its best to welcome me back, clear skies and temperatures in the low 20s, though I looked at what is forecast this time next week, and it predicts a maximum of 8C. It doesn’t pay to look so far ahead here in Cumbria though.. 

The blog will be quieter over the next six months. There will be book reviews of course, but I am going to be based in Cumbria at Shap working 3 of 4 days a week at the Lodge on the bar. I’ll have plenty of time to be on the hills, Roja will spend lots of time with Mac and Rudi, and of course the kids. 

The Lodge only opens for bed and breakfast 3 or 4 days a week. Otherwise the whole house is rented, usually at weekends. That will enable me to get away on short trips, some of which I will post photos from. Busy holiday periods have while house groups in as well, and as far as I can see, I am free for 10 days over the late May bank holiday, and will get away, and again for six weeks in the main school summer holiday. 

My plan is still to sell this van in June. I have a few jobs to do on it first, and then will put it on the market at the start of the month, hoping for a sale before the end of it. If all goes well, I will purchase another panel van at the start of July, and it is booked in for a four week conversion that month. That would leave me potentially three to four weeks to get away in August, before returning to the Lodge for the busiest month of the season in September. 

As yet I have no arrangements confirmed for after that, but I expect to leave at the end of September, likely for Scandinavia. The biggest question, as ever, is how to cope with the Schengen ninety days, and to a lesser extent, the Scandinavian winter. At the moment I am favouring a return to the UK for the darkest months, December and January, before returning back there. The course, or courses, will take shape over the next few weeks.