Ku kandziyisiwile: 02.01.2022
Yes, and then we turn the tables again. From the cold to the warmth, from autumn to summer, from the north to the south. Pure vacation instead of camper office. Sea instead of a thousand lakes, evergreen pine trees instead of colorful leaves. The days are not yet counted, but rien ne va plus. We're going on vacation in France for another 4 weeks!
We stop for two days at our friends' place in Heidelberg to get to know the diverse offspring. Even if we rarely see each other, the friendships are close and we always feel like we're in the middle of the family. Filled with good conversations and lots of laughter, we continue driving.
One night behind the border and a whole day on the French highway with lots of rain and tolls, and then we're there: on the sunny Atlantic coast. Meeting more friends and welcoming more offspring, feeling at home; eating and drinking like God in France, and of course, plunging into the waves. Surfing with a board doesn't work as well as we did it in Bali and Hawaii, but the sea is also uniquely wild and we meet the best surf instructor in the world. The pine forests smell wonderful and the oysters taste great too. But the best thing is the wine, the love in the air, and the feeling of vacation!
After four happy days, we continue on and hike to the Dune de Pilat: Pilat sur Mer in the Bassin of Arcachon. White sand and blue sky, and a breathtaking view over land and sea. We continue driving and find that some campsites have already closed. Finally, we find a wonderful free place near Molière in the middle of a pine forest where a few surfers and wave enthusiasts seem to meet. By the sea and in the hammock, reading and sleeping, we let ourselves be blown through by the Atlantic air and warmed by the sun. We feel very comfortable with this contrast program.
After three days, we feel like moving on, but since we still somehow like the coast, we continue along it. The pine trees never seem to end, we pass through quaint beautiful villages, and the view of the deep blue sea is always there.
We spend the next night in the garden of a French farmhouse, where the elderly couple seems to have no animals but a tractor. The garden is huge and looks enchanted. We need some time to find the right position to park. It's always a new balancing and adjusting. With wedges or without? Left, right, where is the door facing? Is there no branch that will damage the roof? Starting over at each new place... By now, we are a good team. The campers from Dresden.
Anyway, it's a peaceful night in the enchanted garden next to a forest. I look out into the night for a long time and listen for animals. Well, apart from rabbits, foxes, or birds, there is hardly anything big lurking here in the dark. Very different from Scandinavia. There were moose, bears, reindeer...how far away all that is!
Somehow everything always feels more southern. More Spanish. After Biarritz, we decide: let's go to San Sebastián. It is known for its beauty. So, vamos. Off to Spain. The image changes suddenly at the border. The houses are much older, run-down, poor. It is the most recognizable border we have crossed on our journey. Now it is slowly getting dark again and we still have some way to go. The desired campsite is on a hill. When we arrive in the twilight, it quickly becomes clear: they are full. No place for us. Too bad. Because we are up here now and all the other places are down there, and it's getting dark soon, and we're tired and hungry. But the most worrying thing is that tomorrow and the day after tomorrow are holidays in Spain. No wonder everything is full. Where are we going to sleep? On the right side of the road, we can already see the first 'stranded' campers. But unlike in the spacious, prosperous Norway, we really don't want to free camp in this area.
After half an hour of downhill driving, full of concern for the brakes and too narrow dark switchbacks where a car with a brave Spanish driver coming towards us keeps appearing, we arrive at the second campsite. 'Look, some campers have already parked under the highway bridge. Probably the place is full?!'
Once again, we are lucky. As the last guests of the day, we are still admitted. Among countless tents and old caravans with big families, we get the last available spot. Wonderful. Yes, they are loud. But it is so wonderfully lively and cheerful, and the carefree chatter of the Spanish families is pure joy to my ears. We spend a wonderful long day in San Sebastián, which we easily reach by train. It is not so crowded and we like the bay and the many small streets and old houses with tiny balconies. The churches are impressive, and in between there are fragrant pine trees and palms everywhere. Yes, we have arrived in the south!
We stroll through the streets all day and buy a few things. Chris has become a really good advisor by now, and we enjoy trying new things. When I get tired, we simply sit on a bench overlooking the sea, and I doze off for a while with my head on his lap. Then we feel like having ice cream, and Chris buys us one along with a delicious espresso. Yeah, that's the life. Eventually, it gets dark and we have decided not to eat too late to still get a table in one of the many tapas bars. Or outside. But it does get late, as we linger in an alternative store for a long time, where he buys a new wallet for himself and, oops, a pair of shoes for me.
And so, loaded with shopping bags, we pass by countless people drinking wine and enjoying tapas, tourists and locals making the night into day. We just can't find an available table anymore, even though there is so much to choose from. It's warm, and we want to sit outside and not in the most upscale or emptiest place. In the end, we do what everyone else seems to be doing - hold a glass of wine in our hand and stand next to a table, waiting for the guests to leave. And hope to quickly grab it then. Said and done. We succeed and are glad about our strategy - the tapas are delicious, and the wine is good and cheap. The atmosphere in the streets is great. It's a holiday, and we enjoy the summer celebration.
Unfortunately, we have to leave at some point (or luckily? Maybe we would have ended up in some dance bar with even more wine?). The last train to our campsite leaves soon. Funny and cheerful, we walk hand in hand to the train. And just in time, we actually find ourselves in the same squeaky wagon again as on the way there.
The next day starts with table tennis. Think again. We have to stop soon because our balls are too old. Well, okay. But the restaurant at the entrance of the campsite looks great, and it's always full. Let's see?
Unfortunately, it's also full now. Hmm... and over there? 'Let's take a walk to that bay over there. Let's see what's there!'
And indeed: white sand, blue sea, and in front of it, a wonderful beach bar with cool Cuban music. Spontaneous as we are, we sit down there, or rather outside, and look at the sea. Fried calamari, sweet potato fries, wine, and delicious olives. 30 degrees Celsius, sun, and pure vacation feeling. What more could you want?
Another portion of olives to go in hand, we stroll to our camper and drive off again. Back to France. Over the border again. And who would have thought - I'm actually happy about it. At least in this language, I can communicate somewhat.
We drive along the Pyrenees, and even though the lavender fields are already faded, the nature is still beautiful.
We spend the night at a winery. It's dark again, and we simply park on the yard after I have announced our arrival to the owner on the phone. Next to us, there is a huge expedition truck, and we are amazed because it is probably twice as high as our Cinnamon Roll. It seems to have an even harder time finding a good parking spot. But maybe it is also much braver when it comes to wild driving and parking? A thief can't easily climb up there without a ladder.
The next morning, when we look out the window, the truck is already gone. We climb out of our car, and in front of us opens up the vastness of the vineyards. An endless view. And right next to us is the chicken coop. We walk around a bit - the courtyard with the old barn seems lively, but we can't see anyone. Wait! There goes Madame!
I run to her and tell her that we would like to pay. She explains to me that it is free to spend the night there, but if we want, we can do a wine tasting. Of course, I say yes. 'Chris, come quickly!'
We are standing in the big barn, with huge wine barrels on either side, and the lady tells us that they have been making wine here for 4 generations. Nowadays, her daughter is the boss, and they are very busy because the harvest is behind them. They sell the wine all over the world. And so Chris and I have breakfast with white and red wine, and before that, an aperitif in rosé. Okay, I admit it, Chris only takes a sip. He has to drive. More for me.
So, loaded with wine, we continue our journey, only half an hour through the vineyards, then we arrive at Carcassonne. We park our van in a guarded parking lot where other campers are also parked, and you can stay overnight as well, and then we stroll along a small river to the castle.
What a castle! The old structure winds its way up the mountain, interrupted only by the towers and battlements that we had already seen from a distance. Chris is excited. He loves castles. We stroll all day from east to west and from north to south, exploring the entire interior of the castle, where several cute shops and of course restaurants keep their doors open. There are even still about 250 people living in this castle, in smaller apartments, and we envy them a little right now. There are not too many tourists, so it's fun to stroll through the alleyways and explore everything. For lunch, we recharge with pasta and salad before we embark on the big walk around the castle on its wall. This takes us through countless flights of stairs and up the lookout towers, from where we can look out over the whole country.
And that's exactly where we walk afterwards for the afternoon. Out of the castle and through the now slightly more ordinary streets, still lined with beautifully designed facades. Then across the famous big bridge and into the actual city of Carcassonne. There is still a cathedral here that Chris wants to see. My arms are already tired - we already have a few bags with us, and the day is getting late. We have walked a lot. But when you are already here... unfortunately, you can't really admire the cathedral (you can only look up at it in the narrow streets - there is no square in front of it that gives it room to breathe). Nor is the city particularly inviting. Many shops are closed, and everything seems very, very poor. The people we meet are not as friendly as we have experienced so far, and we don't feel really comfortable. The tired feet are even more noticeable now.
But then. By chance, we come across a small shop that offers the "Coffee to go" that I have been craving and urgently looking for. It's an original Italian small restaurant, and we immediately become friends with the owner. He speaks excellent English (the first French resident from whom we can say that, maybe because he is actually Italian?), and he tells us that the city here suffered a lot in the last two years. Everything they live from is tourism. And that has completely died off. Only August was good this year. Otherwise hardly anyone came. And those who come usually bring their own sandwiches. He had to close his restaurant in the castle with 16 employees. However, the place here is a good alternative, as he can reach the local clientele with coffee and pizza and do everything himself."
We immediately order a freshly topped pizza from him, and it tastes wonderful. The espresso with pistachio cream that I drink is a delight. We will come back, we already know. "See you tomorrow! We will still sleep until 10 am, but at 11 or so, we'll be back for breakfast!" What could be better for breakfast than such a pizza?!
Well, we've already eaten something. But we really wanted to eat in a restaurant in the city. The tapas bars down here don't appeal to us that much. Instead, Chris had identified a promising place in the castle. Up there again? Well, let's go, we can do it. But of course, not without first clarifying over the phone whether there is still space and food. Well, there is. So off we go.
Unfortunately, it seems that there is no longer any tourist activity in the castle. At least it's very cozy and the restaurant looks promising - almost empty. The host is happy to see us, and we can choose a table. We decide on the terrace, up at the back above the restaurant. It's open, but we sit here alone. But I'm happy and satisfied. We order delicious wine and find good things on the menu. The table next to us is changing guests, and suddenly we are sitting next to an older couple who seem very friendly and cheerful. The gentleman sways to the beat of the modern music and seems to enjoy the young people passing by us. Chris and I have a lively conversation, as we often do, and sometimes I feel like the lady at the next table is listening a little. But aren't they French?
Finally, the two of them apparently order exactly what we are having (beef tartare), and so we get into a laughing conversation with them. They are retired and come to visit Aix from time to time, as he was stationed here in his youth. They are very interested in us and our journey and our camper. And then they say that he has a flower shop right on the Cote d'Azur and highly recommends the beach in Hyères for kite-surfing. She also speaks good German, although he mainly speaks French with me. I am grateful for the intensive language lesson and his patience in explaining some things to me again, or very slowly. I, in turn, can also practice my language and it turns out that my Chris has also picked up and learned quite a few words. So, a colorful and cheerful conversation develops, and we laugh a lot. Once again, it becomes clear - everything follows an unknown plan, and we can trust in providence. Just a moment ago, we thought we had missed the right moment to settle down in the student bar scene, and now we realize how lucky we are to have met these two open-minded people.
Cheerful and light-hearted, we cycle back home, and their voices keep echoing in my head for a long time. I'm not used to such long conversations with other people besides Chris anymore.
The next morning, we have cereal again, and for a moment we consider staying here longer in the peaceful nature on the mountain. But somehow, I can't find peace. Even though it seems to be the perfect place to relax and vacation - there would always be this feeling that something else has to come. Chris agrees, and he also wants to go back to the sea. One last taste of the beach in the warm sunshine. Okay. So off to the Riviera. Off to the Cote d'Azur.
Once again, we have no specific destination, so we drive through many streets and small towns, and it keeps getting warmer. In Toulon, we drive right by the big harbor with huge cargo ships and the military restricted area. We would like to take a closer look but just can't find a place where we can safely park our camper. Everywhere are restrictions or too little space. "Ah, let's not stress ourselves. Then we'll just keep going."
And so, by chance, we end up at Camping de la Domaine. It is a 5-star campsite, and at first, Chris finds it quite expensive. But I am enticed by the good rating on Park4Night and the actually noble reception area. Everything is so well-kept and inviting. "Here, they have pitches with a sea view, Chris! Come on, just for one night!" And so, we get a spot in the second row right by the sea. We can even set up our hammock again. After the first walk to the beach, Chris gets into a conversation with the neighbor, while I watch the countless children pass by and play. A really big campsite, almost only German families, nice washrooms, a supermarket, a hairdresser, a restaurant, and a tennis court.
I remember it from before, it's new to Chris, and he doesn't seem to have decided yet what he thinks of it. I actually find it too much too. We were actually looking for peace and seclusion. And now we are here voluntarily? But it is very comfortable in my hammock, and somehow we feel safe, among all the people who are maybe a little bit like us and at least speak our language.
The next morning, Chris goes to the reception to ask if we can stay longer or if they have another nice spot with a bit more peace. While I enjoy my coffee, the next renters of our pitch are already approaching and asking when they can move on here. I get a bit restless and start packing up. I can understand them, they also have two children and want to settle in. But I won't go anywhere without my Chris. There he is, and he has actually found a wonderful alternative.
We move to a spot further back, but which has a lot of sun and is still very quiet. From the hammock, I can still see the sea. And it seems we have nice neighbors too. A warm, cheerful family with two older children and very cool parents. We peek over at them from time to time and quickly get into conversation. Just our type. We feel comfortable here and decide to stay for another day or two. Vacation by the sea, that's what was missing.
Soon we are running into the sea, cheerful and carefree, which turns out to be incredibly clear and full of fish. We go snorkeling and find octopuses and many shimmering fish. The water is shallow, and the days pass by in a flash. We often consider when we should move on, but somehow it's just nice here. Being alone and not moving around becomes beautiful. It's not boring, because Siglinde and Bernd from Unna or Gaby and Walter from Niederoberröhrbach with their children Merle and Oskar always provide enough material for gossip and laughter. We feel comfortable. Just being there and not moving on is beautiful.
The days are very hot, the sea is refreshing, the sky is blue, and at night we sleep well. What more could you want? Well, there is this Allee du Soleil. That is the premium road on the campsite. Here, you will find mostly older couples whose children have moved out and who don't necessarily have to be three steps away from the sand anymore. Instead, places located on terraces with a small wooden roof to protect from the sun that shines from sunrise to sunset. I simply ask at the reception, and we actually get the most beautiful pitch of all: XXI.
We take it and move. Since our nice neighbors had already left a day earlier, saying goodbye to the old spot is not difficult for us. We feel good here. A view of the sea, watching the sunrise and moonrise from the bus or dinner table. Restrooms and beach nearby, no children screaming, and the sound of the sea. We'll stay here. And extend it twice. Until the very last moment, we stay here and feel really comfortable. We play table tennis and frolic in the waves like children. We eat pizza or cook pasta and drink wine and read and even get bored. Just vacation. Just Chris and Steffi once again. Reflecting on the time until now. Reflecting on what has happened and what has changed. Between us, within us. What we plan for the future and what should please stay the same. We have really grown together, and it seems to have manifested here. We have gotten used to living in the camper. We can do adventure, loneliness, simplicity, and just the two of us. But we can also do comfort, coziness, and being among people. Depending on how we feel. Sometimes like this, sometimes like that. However we please.
That was the most beautiful part of the past 3 months. Just being allowed to be. Feeling anew every day and then deciding. Just listening to our hearts and living accordingly. Like this and in this way, the time was truly unique. Like this and in this way, the time will surely not happen again. And yet - this is only the beginning. We have just begun to travel, to live, to discover. We feel it and trust in it. We look forward to it and can't wait. When will we go again? Oh yes, first we're heading towards Germany. Well, for a longer time. At home. This is here. In the Cinnamon Roll and in the world. Everywhere, where the two of us are. What a good and secure feeling."