Twingo Camping!

Here's another pre-Corona travel story:

Five years ago, a near-fatal crash almost ruined all of our travel plans. For the first time in our vacation life together, we can be on the road for a whole four weeks, and then a drunk race driver crashes into our mini camper and turns it into a wreck! Sobbing and wailing!

A replacement is not easy to find, and I see our tour dreams shattering this summer. But those who diligently follow my travel reports know by now that I have a very practical, always solution-oriented and blessed with an abundance of creativity partner by my side.

One beautiful evening, he comes home with a very-very hideous wardrobe from the trash. The horror in my eyes speaks volumes, so he explains the purpose of the ugly piece of furniture before I get upset:

My beautiful blue, almost 20-year-old first-generation Twingo is unharmed, and now it's getting a camping conversion because there's space in the smallest hut!

The wardrobe doors and their hinges are transformed into an accordion mattress support, and the rear seats are completely removed, so that the support can be folded and slid between the driver and passenger seats.

The rear part of the car gets a permanent sleeping surface on which we store our sleeping gear. There is so much space underneath that we can almost store our entire household there. The first Twingo model is truly a space miracle, entire flat moves have been carried out with these vehicles! To sleep, the accordion is unfolded onto the side doors, and the rear wardrobe door construction is wedged in, creating a sufficiently long sleeping surface. My place is behind the steering wheel, I'm not that tall.

Now we have to squeeze ourselves through the trunk opening, which is only a little comfortable, to get into our bed, but practice makes perfect, and soon it's not that difficult anymore. Besides, the wonderful folding roof can be opened, and you can admire the sunrise, sunset, or the immeasurable night sky.

All our camping necessities can be packed, and even a little more. And the four-week journey can begin: hooray! The proud destination planned well in advance is the majestic French Pyrenees.

The good Twingo rolls through the land of its ancestors smoothly, so well that we get flashed in Dijon.

Well, on the fourth day of our trip, I broke the handle for adjusting the passenger seat, which is annoying because we have to adjust the seats at least twice a day, when we set up and take down our travel bedroom. Zappa now curses twice a day, but he manages to adjust the seat through gritted teeth.

In addition, after only a few kilometers of travel, the passenger door can no longer be opened from the inside, but that's not sooo dramatic, Zappa now gets white gloves and a nice hat and opens la porte for me. Until then, I can reach through the window and open the door from the outside.

Despite all this, our truly small mini camper safely takes us to the mountains. The weather is not so favorable to us in the rough wilderness, black clouds keep piling up over the peaks, temperature drops and raindrops fall. Often I am more than happy that we can sleep not in a tent but dry, protected from the wind, and somewhat warm, cuddled up together. But the beauty of this rugged mountain range is overwhelming, steep cliffs, majestic peaks still covered with snow even in June, wild waterfalls, green valleys, and everywhere, in the summer, cow and sheep herds graze freely on the alpine meadows, which can sometimes seriously disrupt the traffic. The Pyrenees are truly worth a detour.

We find a fantastic spot to park on the parking lot of a col where only hikers can find their way. And besides, the route is marked on the map as "dangereux", so not suitable for motorhomes. At the end of the day, we have a unique view of the cloud-covered mountain peaks - it's soooo romantic! Only the wind blows gently, but cool at 1500m, so Zappa quickly sets up a windbreak from the rain tarp, under which we cuddle up and start cooking dinner. Just as the rice is in the pot, the wind changes! And now it blows our windbreak into a beautiful sail and into our faces. The car has sleep setting already, and relocating requires considerable effort. Well, bundle up, use all available blankets, and keep cooking. At night, it cools down to 8°C - good for our drinks and of course the butter... In the morning at 7:00 am, the sun climbs the mountains and envelops the now cloud-free peaks in a golden glow. So we open the sunroof and marvel at it, the Alps didn't manage that last year!

After hiking to the Spanish border, where the sun is shining by the way, we stop in the next village. Monsieur Proxi and his "Here you can get everything" store are located here. He has pharmacy prices, we discover a standard package of smoked salmon for a whopping 7.50€! Instead, we opt for baked goods, which quickly turns out to be dwarf bread. The baker must be a true Discworld fan, not only does the bread look the same, round and flat, but it's also so hard that just looking at it makes you full. Anyone who dares to chew on it will never be hungry again. It's also good as a throwing disc for self-defense and you can tap a great rhythm with it - all for a measly 5€ per kilo! I'm just afraid that one day Monsieur Boulanger might become a victim of his own art when the older residents of the village beat him with the stone roll.

In front of the store, Monsieur Bouchon parks his rickety Renault Rapid in such a way on the village street that the milk bomber can no longer pass. Honking doesn't help, the truck driver has to personally fetch Monsieur from his pastis in the café. Meanwhile, chaos is building up on the village street, and the residents gather at their front doors to follow the spectacle and exchange the latest gossip. However, we are fed up with the inhospitable mountain weather, after eight days of clouds, rain, lightning, thunder, and cold, despite all the picturesque mountain romance, we escape to the sun towards Carcassonne.