Over the next few days we explored Javea, which sadly we did not grow fond of, and Moraira which we liked very much. We had originally been based in Moraira before our villa was changed and it was a very pretty little fishing village with several restaurants overlooking the yacht marina. There was a small beach at one end and lots of shops selling clothes, gifts and souvenirs. One wonderful shop sold local wines straight from the barrel and this was a favourite with us! We had stocked up at a supermarket in Javea on Sunday morning but we always needed something every day, normally fresh bread and ham for lunch, along with the delicious tomatoes that were grown locally. It was wonderful to stop at a small cafe and sip a cold beer while watching the world go by.
The days took on a regular pattern of exploring in the morning followed by lunch at the villa with the afternoon spent around the pool. We tried with Javea again but felt there was something about the town that we just didn't like. We really couldn't say what. Perhaps it was the empty pebbly beach we visited one morning but we didn't have any urge to return.
We much preferred Moraira and went there regularly, always parking on a very muddy expanse of land at the back of the town. One morning we took the pretty, winding road to Calpe, passing villas and lots of little shops on the way. The road hugged the coastline and we could see the huge outcrop of rock which stands at one end of Calpe's bay as you approach the town.
Calpe was a miniature Benidorm with a long sweeping promenade lined with hotels, restaurants and bars. We walked the length of the beach and then stopped for a welcome drink. The weather was beautiful and sunny with plenty of people enjoying the beach and the sea.
Mum and Dad were due to arrive on Thursday and after a lazy day around the pool we drove to Alicante airport in the early evening. The sun was just setting as we drove south along the motorway and we were able to admire the magnificent scenery with the mountains on our right and the sea on our left. As we passed the huge resort of Benidorm we could still make out the Bali 3 hotel that was still not finished and we wondered whether it ever would be! (We'd visited Benidorm earlier in the year on a short break and marvelled at the amount of building going on. The Bali 3 was an imposing hotel that was surrounded by cranes when we were there!).
We arrived at almost the same time as Mum and Dad and we were soon loaded up and on our way back to the villa. They were extremely happy to be on holiday even if it was just for a short time. As we headed back darkness fell so Mum and Dad couldn't see the stunning views.
Back at the villa we toasted their arrival with beer and champagne and showed them to their lovely private quarters! They thought the villa was wonderful and loved the pool and terraces!
Saturday, 4 September 1999
Friday, 3 September 1999
Javea, Costa Blanca September 2-18 1999 Part2
After a wonderful buffet breakfast the next morning when Sophie tried everything on offer and left most of it, we loaded up the car again and set off. The first toll we came to put us into a blind panic as we hadn't got a card and so assumed we had lost it (well, the blame was put on me!). However we soon realised that it was just a normal toll, like Dartford Tunnel, where you pay to enter a certain stretch of motorway. The road was not at all busy but we were entertained by the sight of two Mercedes who were weighed down like nothing we'd ever seen before. The amount of stuff piled on the roof was unbelievable and must have posed a hazard! How they weren't stopped by the police I'll never know! They looked like they were headed towards the southern Spanish ports that serve Morocco and Algiers and I do wonder if they made it without mishap!
As we headed further south the weather worsened and the rain started again. The surrounding countryside was hidden by low cloud and we hoped that this wasn't going to be the pattern for the next two weeks! The motorway, a well-maintained dual carriageway was very quiet and we saw the odd British registered car so we knew we weren't the only mad ones!
We by-passed Valencia mid-morning and our next goal was Javea itself. As we left the suburbs of Valencia the sun came out and the temperature rose. The sea was always on our left and soon we came to hills dotted with white villas and signs advertising holiday resorts. I took out the directions to the James Villas office and we turned off the motorway for the last time.
The directions we'd been given were easy to follow and we soon came to the town of Moraira. The weather was beautiful and hot and we suddenly felt like we were now bona fide members of the holiday maker set! The office was set back from the road and up a steep hill and we arrived to find another British family waiting with their hire car. They looked at our poor dusty Volvo in amazement and we felt quite smug that we'd driven all the way from England. Their flight had taken just over two hours while our journey had taken two days!
We waited in the office while all the paperwork was being sorted out and hired two fans to keep us cool at night. After a considerable while we were asked to follow another Brit who would take us to our villa which was being cleaned ready for our arrival. The family in the hire car followed us as well and we took a road out of Moraira towards Javea.
There were villas everywhere! Dotted in the hills above the road and stretching down towards the sea, whole colonies of them, all whitewashed and looking identical. The journey took about fifteen minutes and our villa was in a residential area just outside Javea, on the slopes of a mountain. Luckily the cleaners had just finished so we could get in immediately.
The agent showed us around and then came out with something a bit worrying. "As you were originally booked into a two bedroom villa, we really should lock the donwstairs bedrooms (two of them) but I don't have the key with me." This referred to our original booking for a smaller villa. James Villas had made a mistake with the booking a few weeks before our holiday and had re-located us to a much bigger four bedroom house and taking advantage of this, we'd invited Mum and Dad out to stay with us!
Despite the cock-up we were delighted with the villa as it was wonderful. Upstairs there were two bedrooms, a bathroom, shower room, kitchen and large lounge/diner with a big terrace overlooking the pool. Down a narrow flight of stairs were two further bedrooms, another large bathroom and a utility room with washing machine and sink. A door led out to the terrace and swimming pool and further on was a shaded area with a table and chairs and a barbecue.
The villa had satellite television and big comfortable sofas. It was perfect. We also found a much smaller terrace off the kitchen with a table and chairs but we never used this, preferring the lovely terrace overlooking the pool and mountains.
While I unpacked our colossal amount of luggage, Keith took Sophie down to the pool where the water was wonderful and warm. She was very happy indeed, delighted with the villa and the fact that she could get the
Cartoon Network!
The first evening we decided to eat out in Javea. The weather had turned overcast again as we drove into the busy town and we made sure that we kept an eye out for landmarks as we didn't want to lose our way back to the villa! We parked the car on the front by the beach and wandered down a long promenade that reminded me of the far end of Levante Beach in Benidorm. There were several restaurants on the front so we picked one that served children's meals and settled down with an aperitif to watch Javea wander by. There were lots of children passing by dressed in costumes and in the distance we could hear a band practising so we assumed there was a special event taking place later in the evening.
As our starters arrived it began to rain and people passing by dived for cover underneath the awning of our restaurant. We were sitting in the front row and so had a wonderful view of the ensuing storm over the sea and the tremendous flashes of lightening. The rain poured down in torrents but we felt very cosy watching this spectacular display from under the awning. Our meal was nothing very special but we felt that the entertainment more than made up for it!
After our meal we wandered further along the promenade. We could hear the band playing and so headed in that direction. It turned out to be a carnival in progress and Sophie was delighted when the participants threw sweets into the crowd who themselves then threw back confetti. It was all very festive and colourful with lots of people mingling about in the warm evening. As the carnival finished we wandered back to the car amongst the crowds and felt that we had had a wonderful start to our holiday.
As we headed further south the weather worsened and the rain started again. The surrounding countryside was hidden by low cloud and we hoped that this wasn't going to be the pattern for the next two weeks! The motorway, a well-maintained dual carriageway was very quiet and we saw the odd British registered car so we knew we weren't the only mad ones!
We by-passed Valencia mid-morning and our next goal was Javea itself. As we left the suburbs of Valencia the sun came out and the temperature rose. The sea was always on our left and soon we came to hills dotted with white villas and signs advertising holiday resorts. I took out the directions to the James Villas office and we turned off the motorway for the last time.
The directions we'd been given were easy to follow and we soon came to the town of Moraira. The weather was beautiful and hot and we suddenly felt like we were now bona fide members of the holiday maker set! The office was set back from the road and up a steep hill and we arrived to find another British family waiting with their hire car. They looked at our poor dusty Volvo in amazement and we felt quite smug that we'd driven all the way from England. Their flight had taken just over two hours while our journey had taken two days!
We waited in the office while all the paperwork was being sorted out and hired two fans to keep us cool at night. After a considerable while we were asked to follow another Brit who would take us to our villa which was being cleaned ready for our arrival. The family in the hire car followed us as well and we took a road out of Moraira towards Javea.
There were villas everywhere! Dotted in the hills above the road and stretching down towards the sea, whole colonies of them, all whitewashed and looking identical. The journey took about fifteen minutes and our villa was in a residential area just outside Javea, on the slopes of a mountain. Luckily the cleaners had just finished so we could get in immediately.
The agent showed us around and then came out with something a bit worrying. "As you were originally booked into a two bedroom villa, we really should lock the donwstairs bedrooms (two of them) but I don't have the key with me." This referred to our original booking for a smaller villa. James Villas had made a mistake with the booking a few weeks before our holiday and had re-located us to a much bigger four bedroom house and taking advantage of this, we'd invited Mum and Dad out to stay with us!
Despite the cock-up we were delighted with the villa as it was wonderful. Upstairs there were two bedrooms, a bathroom, shower room, kitchen and large lounge/diner with a big terrace overlooking the pool. Down a narrow flight of stairs were two further bedrooms, another large bathroom and a utility room with washing machine and sink. A door led out to the terrace and swimming pool and further on was a shaded area with a table and chairs and a barbecue.
The villa had satellite television and big comfortable sofas. It was perfect. We also found a much smaller terrace off the kitchen with a table and chairs but we never used this, preferring the lovely terrace overlooking the pool and mountains.
While I unpacked our colossal amount of luggage, Keith took Sophie down to the pool where the water was wonderful and warm. She was very happy indeed, delighted with the villa and the fact that she could get the
Cartoon Network!
The first evening we decided to eat out in Javea. The weather had turned overcast again as we drove into the busy town and we made sure that we kept an eye out for landmarks as we didn't want to lose our way back to the villa! We parked the car on the front by the beach and wandered down a long promenade that reminded me of the far end of Levante Beach in Benidorm. There were several restaurants on the front so we picked one that served children's meals and settled down with an aperitif to watch Javea wander by. There were lots of children passing by dressed in costumes and in the distance we could hear a band practising so we assumed there was a special event taking place later in the evening.
As our starters arrived it began to rain and people passing by dived for cover underneath the awning of our restaurant. We were sitting in the front row and so had a wonderful view of the ensuing storm over the sea and the tremendous flashes of lightening. The rain poured down in torrents but we felt very cosy watching this spectacular display from under the awning. Our meal was nothing very special but we felt that the entertainment more than made up for it!
After our meal we wandered further along the promenade. We could hear the band playing and so headed in that direction. It turned out to be a carnival in progress and Sophie was delighted when the participants threw sweets into the crowd who themselves then threw back confetti. It was all very festive and colourful with lots of people mingling about in the warm evening. As the carnival finished we wandered back to the car amongst the crowds and felt that we had had a wonderful start to our holiday.
Thursday, 2 September 1999
Javea, Costa Blanca September 2-18 1999 Part 1
An account of a family holiday we took to Javea on the Costa Blanca, Spain in 1999, when Sophie was 3 years old. This is an account of the first few days and is quite long. I will post subsequent entries in the 1999 archive.
After a busy day spent packing mammoth amounts into the car, we were on the road by 5.20pm, only 20 minutes behind schedule. Shunning the normal route to the M1 because of terrible roadworks at Junction 15, we travelled through the sunlit Northamptonshire countryside to Junction 16 and the start of our long journey south.
Luck seemed to be on our side as the traffic, although heavy, was flowing freely and we made Dartford in good time to see Eastenders (for some reason I was a fan back in 1999!). My Nan made sure we didn't go hungry by supplying us with ham sandwiches and doughnuts with ample coffee to keep us going through the long night ahead.
By 8.30pm we were on the road to Folkestone where we were booked onto the 10.21pm train. However, we made such good time that we were able to board an earlier shuttle, at 9.51pm, which was a bonus!
We lined up with other travellers and tried to fix our headlamp converters into place. The man in the car in front decided it would be a good time to try his, too, but there seemed to be universal confusion as to the correct way to place them and he kept looking at ours with a worried look on his face! (We later found out that ours were indeed wrong, and after attempting to fix them, they fell off never to be seen again!).
The journey to Calais was short and smooth and before long we were in France although in the darkness we could have been anywhere! Gradually we found ourselves all alone on the dark and empty motorway, little orange lights illuminating the way into the impenetrable blackness. We passed very few cars and only several lorries but the road stretched on and on with nothing to alleviate the dark. Sophie had finally fallen asleep on the shuttle and was snoring peacefully in the back. She looked comfortable and warm and both Keith and I envied her.
Time passed and the hours crept forward. We fortified ourselves with flasks of hot coffee and took it in turns to drive. Our arrival at Reims was a little bright spot in the otherwise black night but we were soon past and alone on the empty road.
Our journey continued with only one brief stop to use the toilets at an "Aire". These are brilliant stopping places, mostly with only toilets and picnic tables but they appear at regular intervals along the autoroute and are a haven for the tired traveller. Little clusters of cars with their sleeping occupants were dotted about and there was a temptation to stop as well and have a sleep but we pushed on into the night. With hindsight I realised we were in a dangerous position; we were both tired and the road was completely empty and dark with absolutely nothing to concentrate on. Driving was like being on autopilot, with no other traffic to overtake and no landmarks to keep us interested. It took all my concentration to keep awake and focused on the driving. Luckily (or not!) whenever we went over about 85mph an ominous droning noise would start, a legacy of a replaced windscreen some weeks before. The noise in itself was enough to keep us awake!
Gradually we crept further south and a weak dawn appeared as reached Lyon at about 6am. We somehow missed the "Peripherique" and ended up going right through the centre at a steady 70 miles an hour! Lcukily it was very quiet. I'd been looking forward to the section of road from Lyon to the border as it runs through some beautiful countryside but it began to rain and the surrounding hills were covered by thick mist. The traffic grew heavier, as did the rain, and we couldn't believe that we driven under clear starry skies all night through the rest of France! It wasn't supposed to have been like this!
We stopped for a quick breakfast after Lyon and made some ham rolls which were washed down with coffee. Sophie woke up and joined us, a complete look of bewilderment on her face! The weather certainly didn't look very summery and we were soon back in the car heading towards the Spanish border.
Unfortunately the weather grew worse the further we went, with torrential rain at times. This didn't deter the French drivers who kept up their incredible speeds, often in tiny Renaults or Peugeots. What do they put in their tanks? Rocket fuel? I phoned Mum who gleefully told me that the weather at home was beautiful...great!
We had planned to stop overnight in France before driving into Spain the next day but we were in the South of France by 11am and so decided to push on and perhaps stay in the small resort of Tossa de Mar, not far from the border.
We halted briefly outside Narbonne to stretch our legs and eat some more rolls and let Sophie play on the climbing frames that the French throughtfully provide. The weather was humid, muggy and very warm.
Soon we were at the border and with just a cursory glance at our car from the officials we were into Spain. After a few junctions of the motorway we turned off to Tossa de Mar and followed a busy road through several villages. We soon came to the mountain road that I remembered so vividly from a previous holiday in 1981 and although it had been improved it was still winding and scenic with stunning views towards the sea.
Tossa de Mar was a busy little resort full of cars and people. I had planned to visit the Tourist Information Bureau and see if we could find a hotel for the night but they were closed until 5pm and we couldn't afford to wait that long to see if we could find a bed! We parked the car and walked to the sea-front as we had promised Sophie that she could go on the beach. We felt very scruffy and tired, a feeling made much worse by the jolly holiday-makers all around us who were sitting in the bars and restaurants without a care in the world. After reaching the beach, Keith took Sophie off to play while I ordered some drinks from the bar overlooking the sea.
The bad weather had followed us into Spain and suddenly the heavens opened and everyone, including Keith and Sophie, dashed to the shelter of the beach-bar. We all huddled under the awning and watched as the rain grew heavier, feeling alarmed as the first rumbles of thunder began overhead and flashes of lightening zigzagged across the sky. Little did we know that this was to be the pattern of weather for the next few days!
During a short lull in the rain we ran back towards the town, hoping to get to the car park but another burst of heavy rain sent us fleeing to the shelter of a restaurant where we cowered in the corner, watching the diners happily eating ice-creams and drinking Sangria. We all felt utterly miserable as we'd had next to no sleep, we were still wearing the clothes we'd set out in yesterday evening and we were wet, bedraggled and covered in sand. Not the best of feelings and a disappointment from a town where I'd had so many happy memories!
The rain continued and reminded me of a violent storm I'd witnessed when I visited Tossa de Mar the first time, with my parents back in the early 80s. We'd stood on the balcony of our apartment and watched as the storm approached over the sea, the rain making everyone flee from the beach and into the nearby cafes and bars, much the same as we were doing now!
We waited half an hour before we felt it was safe to sprint to the car and carry on our journey, making the decision to return to the motorway and stop at the first hotel we saw. All three of us were exhausted by now and we all badly needed a shower and a change of clothes!
Shortly after getting back into the car, Sophie fell asleep and we saw signs for a motorway hotel just outside of Barcelona. We'd never used a motorway hotel before but regardless of the cost we decided to stop and see if they had a room. It was part of a large service area and looked modern and comfortable. Keith carried his sleeping daughter into the Reception area and we were told we could have a room for the night at £64.It was more than we'd wanted to pay but by now we were desperate for some sleep. Keith took Sophie up to the room while I went back to the car to fetch our passports and luggage. There were signs everywhere warning motorists of thefts from cars so we made sure we took out anything of value to avoid a broken window or break-in!
After we had dumped our luggage (which almost filled the room) we both took welcome showers and scrubbed ourselves until we gleamed. Sophie slept on; she must have been exhausted, poor thing! After his shower Keith decided to explore in the hope of finding a bar where we could get a drink, but he returned empty-handed. There was no bar at all! He decided to pop next door to the shop and returned with a large bottle of San Miguel, some lemonade and a huge packet of crisps! We ate the crisps with the last of our rolls and settled down for a nap.
We awoke later to the sound of thunder and pouring rain. Our room overlooked the car park and the motorway and when we'd arrived in the early afternoon the car park had been almost empty. Now it was full of cars of differing nationalities. We sorted out some clean clothes from our luggage and then made our way downstairs in the hope of finding somewhere comfortable to sit and relax over a drink.
It was not to be! The only place that served drinks was a noisy cafeteria next to the lobby so we bought some beer for us and a bottle of Orangina for Sophie and took them back to the lounge area where Sophie was entertained by the fish-tank. The Reception area was busy with travellers arriving to check-in and as I went back to our room to fetch some crayons for Sophie I met a middle-aged man who was determined to engage me in conversation, even letting me know about the sort-porn channels available later that night!
Dinner was very relaxed and informal. Most of the guests staying at the hotel ate in the large restaurant and we had a lovely meal with some delicious wine. Sophie played up a bit towards the end of the meal and I had to take her away from the table and threaten her with dire punishments, but looking back she was just probably tired and completely out of her normal routine. Soon after we'd eaten we decided to call it a day and returned to our room. An evening walk was out of the question!
Sunday, 23 May 1999
France - The Loire Valley May 20-23 1999 Part 3
We decided to head for Caen soon after breakfast on Sunday and stop for lunch on the way. This morning the homemade jams were even worse as one of them had mould growing on it and we didn't dare ask for more coffee in case we received another glare!
We brought the car around to the annexe and loaded up. Struggling with the temperamental roof box in front of our fellow guests was not something we relished! However, it behaved and we were soon on our way through the wine village of Bourgeil and onto the deserted motorway. We saw nothing on the road for the first half hour and it was tremendously boring. However, once we turned towards Le Mans and Paris we had companions. We stopped again at the small service station and enjoyed a cup of coffee from the same surly waitress!
The weather changed as we neared the coast and became quite overcast. We agreed that rather than wait at Ouistreham for a couple of hours we would drive to Arromanches (scene of an earlier and very disastrous holiday) and have lunch there. It soon became a race against time as we had to negotiate the busy ferry port of Caen and find the right road to the coast. We did this successfully but the miles seemed to get longer the nearer to Arromanches we got!
As always, the best laid plans go wrong! As we approached the seaside town we noticed cars parked all along the road and these were the overflow from the town itself. There was not a space to be had and it seemed as if the whole of Normandy had descended on the place! How ironic was that, given that we'd hardly seen any other cars on the roads all day! We drove into the town, saw the hotel we'd stayed at previously, and promptly drove back out again!
(Back in 1988 Mum, Dad and I visited Arromanches for a short break at Easter, which was our first mistake. Our second mistake was to go only months after my father had had a bad car accident in which he'd badly mangled both legs so he was in a wheelchair. Our third, and worst, mistake was to book only two nights at the hotel in the town thinking we would find accommodation elsewhere for the next few nights, something we'd always found easy on our extensive travels in France. When we arrived at the hotel in Arromanches we found we were on a higher floor than we thought so my poor Dad had to try and climb them, not a good idea given his injuries.
After our stay in Arromanches we had incredible difficulty finding more accommodation as every hotel and guesthouse in the whole of Normandy was booked up. We eventually, late at night, found a hotel in Caen that had spare rooms but we cut our break short and returned home the next morning...not the most successful of trips but something we can thankfully laugh about now!).
Muttering under our breath about our bad luck in this region of France we continued towards Ouistreham and stopped at another town with a large marina as we were all bursting for the toilette!
We had a quick drink in a restaurant full of people eating Sunday lunch and then bought some rolls in a nearby bakery.
The drive to Ouistreham was easy and we arrived in plenty of time to be told that we weren't booked on the 4.30pm ferry! the lady who had booked us in in Portsmouth had made a mistake when she changed our tickets because of the roof-box. However, we were soon waved through and drove onto the "Normandie" finding ourselves parked on the open deck.
Our cabin was more modern than the previous one and we dumped our bags and headed up to the lounge. We intended to book a table in the restaurant and so Dad waited for it to open while Mum and I took Sophie to a small play room for children, It had two cars in it and that was all!
Having booked a table for 7pm we settled in the cafe with a coffee and had a look around the duty free shop. Sophie decided to have a mad hour and became uncontrollable so we returned to the cabin for a wash and brush up before dinner.
After a very relaxing drink in the bar we took our seats in the restaurant by the window. Our waiter carried on with the tradition of being surly and took our orders for a buffet starter and chicken main course. Unfortunately we were disappointed with our meal as the main course was tasteless and unimaginative. The dessert choice was marginally better but the cheese board was hopeless. However, it was lovely to be waited on and our view across the sea was wonderful.
All too soon we saw the Isle of Wight and we returned to the cabin to gather our bags and see the sights of Portsmouth as we sailed into the port. A very helpful man pointed out the interesting things about the town and we descended to the car deck and the long journey home.
We got lost on the way but we didn't care! We had had a lovely break and more importantly, the boot of the car was full of wine!
We brought the car around to the annexe and loaded up. Struggling with the temperamental roof box in front of our fellow guests was not something we relished! However, it behaved and we were soon on our way through the wine village of Bourgeil and onto the deserted motorway. We saw nothing on the road for the first half hour and it was tremendously boring. However, once we turned towards Le Mans and Paris we had companions. We stopped again at the small service station and enjoyed a cup of coffee from the same surly waitress!
The weather changed as we neared the coast and became quite overcast. We agreed that rather than wait at Ouistreham for a couple of hours we would drive to Arromanches (scene of an earlier and very disastrous holiday) and have lunch there. It soon became a race against time as we had to negotiate the busy ferry port of Caen and find the right road to the coast. We did this successfully but the miles seemed to get longer the nearer to Arromanches we got!
As always, the best laid plans go wrong! As we approached the seaside town we noticed cars parked all along the road and these were the overflow from the town itself. There was not a space to be had and it seemed as if the whole of Normandy had descended on the place! How ironic was that, given that we'd hardly seen any other cars on the roads all day! We drove into the town, saw the hotel we'd stayed at previously, and promptly drove back out again!
(Back in 1988 Mum, Dad and I visited Arromanches for a short break at Easter, which was our first mistake. Our second mistake was to go only months after my father had had a bad car accident in which he'd badly mangled both legs so he was in a wheelchair. Our third, and worst, mistake was to book only two nights at the hotel in the town thinking we would find accommodation elsewhere for the next few nights, something we'd always found easy on our extensive travels in France. When we arrived at the hotel in Arromanches we found we were on a higher floor than we thought so my poor Dad had to try and climb them, not a good idea given his injuries.
After our stay in Arromanches we had incredible difficulty finding more accommodation as every hotel and guesthouse in the whole of Normandy was booked up. We eventually, late at night, found a hotel in Caen that had spare rooms but we cut our break short and returned home the next morning...not the most successful of trips but something we can thankfully laugh about now!).
Muttering under our breath about our bad luck in this region of France we continued towards Ouistreham and stopped at another town with a large marina as we were all bursting for the toilette!
We had a quick drink in a restaurant full of people eating Sunday lunch and then bought some rolls in a nearby bakery.
The drive to Ouistreham was easy and we arrived in plenty of time to be told that we weren't booked on the 4.30pm ferry! the lady who had booked us in in Portsmouth had made a mistake when she changed our tickets because of the roof-box. However, we were soon waved through and drove onto the "Normandie" finding ourselves parked on the open deck.
Our cabin was more modern than the previous one and we dumped our bags and headed up to the lounge. We intended to book a table in the restaurant and so Dad waited for it to open while Mum and I took Sophie to a small play room for children, It had two cars in it and that was all!
Having booked a table for 7pm we settled in the cafe with a coffee and had a look around the duty free shop. Sophie decided to have a mad hour and became uncontrollable so we returned to the cabin for a wash and brush up before dinner.
After a very relaxing drink in the bar we took our seats in the restaurant by the window. Our waiter carried on with the tradition of being surly and took our orders for a buffet starter and chicken main course. Unfortunately we were disappointed with our meal as the main course was tasteless and unimaginative. The dessert choice was marginally better but the cheese board was hopeless. However, it was lovely to be waited on and our view across the sea was wonderful.
All too soon we saw the Isle of Wight and we returned to the cabin to gather our bags and see the sights of Portsmouth as we sailed into the port. A very helpful man pointed out the interesting things about the town and we descended to the car deck and the long journey home.
We got lost on the way but we didn't care! We had had a lovely break and more importantly, the boot of the car was full of wine!
Saturday, 22 May 1999
France - The Loire Valley May 20-23 1999 Part 2
Saturday dawned bright and sunny and we took our breakfast in the lovely old dining room around large tables. I never really look forward to French breakfasts and have always thought they are a bit of a con... It's so easy to chuck some croissants and bread into a bowl and dish out butter and jam. Give me a good full English any day!
Our hotel was mentioned in all the guidebooks I had at home and they all described the wonderful jams made by the patronne. Hmmm, yes, if you like tomato jam and other weird and wonderful varieties! I, however, prefer good old-fashioned strawberry on my croissant, thank you very much! Anyway, the coffee was good and we enjoyed listening to a small group of Brits in our hotel guffawing and talking in posh accents. The hotel was on the modest side, but the small car park was stuffed with BMWs, a Porsche and several large Volvos.
Unfortunately we soon learned how to fall out with the owner when we asked for some more coffee. He looked at us as if we'd ordered vintage Champagne and truffles for breakfast and flounced off to get it, conveniently forgetting to bring back more milk with it...
We decided to have a picnic today so we spent a delightful hour purchasing our lunch from several different shops. We bought two long crusty loaves (which then broke in half), some ham and a bottle of wine which then dropped out of a very flimsy carrier bag we had and started to leak. We also chose some fresh tomatoes and two different salads which looked (and tasted) delicious. Sophie chose some crisps and enjoyed a bottle of mineral water.
Our first stop was the village of Azay-le-Rideau and its beautiful Chateau. There was a small market going on in the middle of the village and after parking the car some distance away we strolled around savouring the different cheeses and sausages. One quaintly dressed man tried to sell us some very smelly sausage but we told him we'd get some on the way back to the car and made a hasty exit to a small cafe for coffee. It was wonderful to sit in the sun and watch the French buy their provisions. I only wish we had a similar system in the UK, rather than having to go to Tesco on a Saturday morning!
After our coffee we walked around the village and bought some local wine from a supermarket. I knew I'd never be able to find it at home! Dad chose some sparkling wine from a small wine shop and we added our purchases to the cases already in the boot.
On the way back to the car we stopped to admire the chateau. The people who worked there were on strike and we missed being able to visit it for free by ten minutes. It was gorgeous and resembled a fairy-tale castle but we knew that Sophie wouldn't appreciate it at her age so we returned to the car and set about finding a suitable place for our lunchtime picnic.
Nearby was the forest of Chinon and the lady at our hotel had recommended it for an al fresco lunch. We drove into the forest on a small road but the only picnic table we saw was already occupied. We drove on and on along deserted roads with not a table in sight or even a dry patch of grass. Eventually we headed to the village of St Benoit en Foret and hoped that we would find somewhere there.
Our luck was in! It was almost as if we'd faxed the village with our requirements and they had obliged. In the centre of the village was a wide open grassy space with a picnic table under a tree. A little garden had been created nearby with a small stream beside it. The views stretched out over rolling hills and woods. It was perfect! We grabbed the food and the picnic basket and ran to the table in case anyone else came along to claim it! Sophie played happily in the garden while we unpacked and dished out the food. Dad had also added some pork ribs to the feast so we ate these along with the ham, tomatoes and bread. The wine had barely leaked and was at least drinkable but I certainly wouldn't have added it to the others in the boot of the car!
After our lovely lunch we headed towards Saumur for an afternoon stroll. Sophie fell asleep again and we took advantage of the peace by eating a delicious chocolate ice-cream (Mum and I) and pancakes (Dad). We found a pretty square with a fountain and watched people wandering past and saw numerous wedding cars arrive with guests. It seemed as if there were weddings going on all around us in the town.
The rest of the afternoon was spent looking at the shops with crowds of other tourists. It was very warm and we ended up outside the Town Hall where all the weddings were being held. Dad was keen to try some of the local wines before we returned to the hotel so we drove to a village near Saumur which had a Cave des Vignerons. Dad was out of the car and into the building before I got there, telling the patronne in his best French accent that he didn't speak the language. We were invited to taste a Saumur red which was quite dry and a Coteaux de Saumur, a sweet white, which was delicious. Dad bought two of the whites while I chose two white wines and a red. A lot of the bottles in the cave had decorated labels, some of which were quite naughty!
We tried another village, advertised from the road as being a village of wine-makers, but everything seemed deserted so we headed back to Chinon where we wanted to try some of the local red wine. A sign directed us along a small track where we believed there was a vineyard but we somehow ended up back on the main road. After much driving about, to the amused looks on the villagers' faces, we eventually found the vineyard (a huge ancient cave) and it was certainly worth the trouble.
We tasted three Chinons, each of them capable of ageing up to ten years. They were quite tannic but the wine-maker assured us they would soften if we kept them properly. We bought a bottle of each and added them to the ever growing amount in the boot of the car!
Back at the hotel we relaxed with a drink on the terrace and watched a new batch of guests arriving. The sun was shining, we were all looking forward to dinner and I called Keith to make sure he was surviving without us back in the UK!
Our destination tonight was a small restaurant that served local food at reasonable prices and had a menu for children. We meandered along in the warm evening air and looked forward to being able to sit outside. However, when we arrived every table had been taken and the patron said we would have a long wait. We had no option but to leave and it seemed every person in the restaurant was staring at us as if we were the evening's entertainment! We made our way back to the Auberge Rouge where we sat at a table outside and watched the world go by.
Luckily we'd enjoyed our meals the previous evening so we chose more specialities as starters and tried different main courses. Dad tried the eel which was cooked in a red wine sauce and served with rice. Mum opted for steak while I had venison. Everything was delicious and we drank a red St Nicholas de Bourgeil, which was a bit tannic but improved enormously with the goat's cheese that followed our meal. Sophie tucked into Vouvray pork ribs and said they were delicious!
We returned to the hotel hoping for a nightcap but everywhere was in darkness so it was off to bed,
tired but very happy!
Part 3 will follow soon.
Our hotel was mentioned in all the guidebooks I had at home and they all described the wonderful jams made by the patronne. Hmmm, yes, if you like tomato jam and other weird and wonderful varieties! I, however, prefer good old-fashioned strawberry on my croissant, thank you very much! Anyway, the coffee was good and we enjoyed listening to a small group of Brits in our hotel guffawing and talking in posh accents. The hotel was on the modest side, but the small car park was stuffed with BMWs, a Porsche and several large Volvos.
Unfortunately we soon learned how to fall out with the owner when we asked for some more coffee. He looked at us as if we'd ordered vintage Champagne and truffles for breakfast and flounced off to get it, conveniently forgetting to bring back more milk with it...
We decided to have a picnic today so we spent a delightful hour purchasing our lunch from several different shops. We bought two long crusty loaves (which then broke in half), some ham and a bottle of wine which then dropped out of a very flimsy carrier bag we had and started to leak. We also chose some fresh tomatoes and two different salads which looked (and tasted) delicious. Sophie chose some crisps and enjoyed a bottle of mineral water.
Our first stop was the village of Azay-le-Rideau and its beautiful Chateau. There was a small market going on in the middle of the village and after parking the car some distance away we strolled around savouring the different cheeses and sausages. One quaintly dressed man tried to sell us some very smelly sausage but we told him we'd get some on the way back to the car and made a hasty exit to a small cafe for coffee. It was wonderful to sit in the sun and watch the French buy their provisions. I only wish we had a similar system in the UK, rather than having to go to Tesco on a Saturday morning!
After our coffee we walked around the village and bought some local wine from a supermarket. I knew I'd never be able to find it at home! Dad chose some sparkling wine from a small wine shop and we added our purchases to the cases already in the boot.
On the way back to the car we stopped to admire the chateau. The people who worked there were on strike and we missed being able to visit it for free by ten minutes. It was gorgeous and resembled a fairy-tale castle but we knew that Sophie wouldn't appreciate it at her age so we returned to the car and set about finding a suitable place for our lunchtime picnic.
Nearby was the forest of Chinon and the lady at our hotel had recommended it for an al fresco lunch. We drove into the forest on a small road but the only picnic table we saw was already occupied. We drove on and on along deserted roads with not a table in sight or even a dry patch of grass. Eventually we headed to the village of St Benoit en Foret and hoped that we would find somewhere there.
Our luck was in! It was almost as if we'd faxed the village with our requirements and they had obliged. In the centre of the village was a wide open grassy space with a picnic table under a tree. A little garden had been created nearby with a small stream beside it. The views stretched out over rolling hills and woods. It was perfect! We grabbed the food and the picnic basket and ran to the table in case anyone else came along to claim it! Sophie played happily in the garden while we unpacked and dished out the food. Dad had also added some pork ribs to the feast so we ate these along with the ham, tomatoes and bread. The wine had barely leaked and was at least drinkable but I certainly wouldn't have added it to the others in the boot of the car!
After our lovely lunch we headed towards Saumur for an afternoon stroll. Sophie fell asleep again and we took advantage of the peace by eating a delicious chocolate ice-cream (Mum and I) and pancakes (Dad). We found a pretty square with a fountain and watched people wandering past and saw numerous wedding cars arrive with guests. It seemed as if there were weddings going on all around us in the town.
The rest of the afternoon was spent looking at the shops with crowds of other tourists. It was very warm and we ended up outside the Town Hall where all the weddings were being held. Dad was keen to try some of the local wines before we returned to the hotel so we drove to a village near Saumur which had a Cave des Vignerons. Dad was out of the car and into the building before I got there, telling the patronne in his best French accent that he didn't speak the language. We were invited to taste a Saumur red which was quite dry and a Coteaux de Saumur, a sweet white, which was delicious. Dad bought two of the whites while I chose two white wines and a red. A lot of the bottles in the cave had decorated labels, some of which were quite naughty!
We tried another village, advertised from the road as being a village of wine-makers, but everything seemed deserted so we headed back to Chinon where we wanted to try some of the local red wine. A sign directed us along a small track where we believed there was a vineyard but we somehow ended up back on the main road. After much driving about, to the amused looks on the villagers' faces, we eventually found the vineyard (a huge ancient cave) and it was certainly worth the trouble.
We tasted three Chinons, each of them capable of ageing up to ten years. They were quite tannic but the wine-maker assured us they would soften if we kept them properly. We bought a bottle of each and added them to the ever growing amount in the boot of the car!
Back at the hotel we relaxed with a drink on the terrace and watched a new batch of guests arriving. The sun was shining, we were all looking forward to dinner and I called Keith to make sure he was surviving without us back in the UK!
Our destination tonight was a small restaurant that served local food at reasonable prices and had a menu for children. We meandered along in the warm evening air and looked forward to being able to sit outside. However, when we arrived every table had been taken and the patron said we would have a long wait. We had no option but to leave and it seemed every person in the restaurant was staring at us as if we were the evening's entertainment! We made our way back to the Auberge Rouge where we sat at a table outside and watched the world go by.
Luckily we'd enjoyed our meals the previous evening so we chose more specialities as starters and tried different main courses. Dad tried the eel which was cooked in a red wine sauce and served with rice. Mum opted for steak while I had venison. Everything was delicious and we drank a red St Nicholas de Bourgeil, which was a bit tannic but improved enormously with the goat's cheese that followed our meal. Sophie tucked into Vouvray pork ribs and said they were delicious!
We returned to the hotel hoping for a nightcap but everywhere was in darkness so it was off to bed,
tired but very happy!
Part 3 will follow soon.
Friday, 21 May 1999
France - The Loire Valley May 20-23 1999 Part 1
This is an account of a trip I took with my parents and Sophie to Chinon in France in 1999. Dad and I had given each other a row of vines in the village of Chaintres so we went to have a look at them and try the wine, a Saumur-Champigny!
The journey to Portsmouth started badly, in pouring rain and with a roof-box that refused to stay shut! Luckily a friendly AA man gave us a length of wire and Dad managed to tie it so it stayed closed. I didn't dare drive faster than 70mph though! A revelation for me!
We stopped at a welcoming village pub somewhere in Hampshire for dinner. Sophie slept through the meal and only woke up when we were about to board our ferry for the overnight crossing - The Duc de Normandie.
It took ages to board the ferry and we daren't risk going to the cafe in case we were called to embark. We eventually drove on at 10.30pm and found our cabins for the night. Sophie was a little nervous because of her obsession with the film Titanic and I tried my best to calm her down. Our cabin was very cosy, with a tiny bathroom and bunk beds. We had a quick wash and then squashed up together on the lower bunk. After a while the ferry began to move out of the port and the engines made a terrific groaning noise. Sophie started to whimper about Titanic again but after a few minutes she fell asleep and thankfully the noise of the engines stopped.
The crossing seemed very short and we were woken at 4.30am by a bell. I left Sophie in bed, quickly dressed and put some make-up on. I felt exhausted and could have done with another three hours' sleep!
My Dad made an appearance and we both went in search of hot coffee while Mum looked after a still-sleeping Sophie. The search for coffee proved elusive and the cafes were full of school children so we resigned ourselves to a caffeine-free start to the day. Even the coffee machine we found didn't work!
Thankfully we were soon back in the car and we promised ourselves a cup of cafe au lait at the first French cafe we came to. We drove slowly off the ferry amidst a long coil of British cars and we were soon on our way with my Dad navigating. We drove on and on with no sign at all of somewhere we could get breakfast as there was nowhere open and I didn't fancy driving into the centre of Caen just for coffee.
Soon we came to the small town of Argentan and we saw a sign for McDonalds. It certainly wasn't our ideal choice but by now we were desperate for a coffee and something to eat. We ordered Egg McMuffins, hot coffee and toasted muffins from a surly waitress but we didn't care! Soon afterwards another British family came in and I wondered whether the restaurant did a good trade from the ferry port.
Feeling better we were soon back on the road and heading for Le Mans. The weather was sunny and we looked forward to getting to our hotel and visiting the vineyard in the afternoon. The roads were almost empty and as we neared Le Mans we stopped for more coffee and pain au chocolat at a quiet service station. Sophie and Dad found a wonderful fountain and came back drenched!
At Saumur we turned off the motorway and headed towards the town of Chinon. There were vineyards along the side of the road all offering degustations (wine tastings) and numerous chateaux perched in the surrounding hills. The countryside was beautiful and we caught glimpses of the Loire river flowing alongside the road.
Chinon was a very pretty town and we found our hotel in a quiet back street. It was set back behind gates with its own parking. There was a lovely terrace with chairs and tables and an abundance of flowers. The owner, who spoke excellent English, showed us to our rooms in an annexe a short distance from the main hotel. The rooms were very clean but old-fashioned. Why do the French persist in using candlewick bedspreads? However, both rooms had spacious bathrooms and we were soon unpacking our bags and watching Sophie jump on the beds in glee!
We had an hour to spare before our appointment at the vineyard so we stopped at one of the wonderful roadside bars for lunch. It was in a quiet village and served specialities including quiche and croque monsieur. Sophie made friends with a little French girl and Dad enjoyed a glass of chilled red wine. In this area the reds (Chinon, Bourgeil and Saumur-Champigny) are often chilled slightly before serving, something we're not used to doing in Britain!
After a delicious lunch we carried on our way along a road that would become very familiar by the end of our little break. The tiny village of Chaintres is tucked away from the main road and we had several attempts at trying to find the vineyard, hampered by a couple of French drivers who insisted on driving too close to me despite my obvious GB sticker!
On the dot of 2.30pm we arrived at the Domaine de la Cune and met Jean Albert who is one of the brothers. He spoke excellent English and we waited in a cool room full of wine for another couple to arrive. Sophie had decided to have a nap so we parked her in a quiet corner while we got down to the serious business of wine tasting. The other couple had arrived and they were very friendly and obviously loved wine as much as we did. We tasted "our" wine, the 1997 3Jean which was exclusive to 3D Wines, and then some more examples of the vineyard - a Saumur-Champigny red, a white wine and a sparkling Saumur, which was delicious.
It was all very relaxing and afterwards we were given a tour by Jean Albert. He showed us the vines and how he was pruning them, the actual winery with the equipment and the fascinating cellar which was built 300 years ago and still holds large quantities of wine.
All too soon our visit was over so we loaded up the car with our cases of wine and departed, meandering around the picturesque vineyards before heading back to Chinon and an afternoon stroll. We wanted to find a good restaurant for the evening and walked around the lovely streets of the bustling little town. There were several places to choose from but the menus looked a little daunting for our three year old so we headed back to the Hotel Diderot to ask if they could recommend a suitable restaurant to eat. The owner's charming sister told us to try the Auberge Rouge where she said the menu was informal and it was a good place for children to eat.
After a quick bath we strolled to the restaurant but forgot the pushchair. A moany Sophie made sure we suffered as she wanted to be carried all the way there! The auberge was all we had hoped it would be and we were soon settled into a tiny alcove with a traditional menu offering specialities of the area, including eels, much to Dad's delight! We chose two specialities for starters which included foie gras, Vouvray pork ribs, pate and smoked ham. Four main courses we all had something different - I chose steak, Mum opted for lamb chops while Dad tried the duck. Sophie was delighted with her ham and fried potatoes. Our main courses came complete with goat's cheese and fruit on a wicker tray. We drank a bottle of red Chinon with the meal which was delicious.
On the way back to the hotel we took it in turns to carry a sleepy Sophie. It was still quite light and the shuttered houses reminded me of Pollensa in Mallorca. We were all looking forward to a good night's sleep as we were shattered by our long day!
Part 2 will follow shortly.
The journey to Portsmouth started badly, in pouring rain and with a roof-box that refused to stay shut! Luckily a friendly AA man gave us a length of wire and Dad managed to tie it so it stayed closed. I didn't dare drive faster than 70mph though! A revelation for me!
We stopped at a welcoming village pub somewhere in Hampshire for dinner. Sophie slept through the meal and only woke up when we were about to board our ferry for the overnight crossing - The Duc de Normandie.
It took ages to board the ferry and we daren't risk going to the cafe in case we were called to embark. We eventually drove on at 10.30pm and found our cabins for the night. Sophie was a little nervous because of her obsession with the film Titanic and I tried my best to calm her down. Our cabin was very cosy, with a tiny bathroom and bunk beds. We had a quick wash and then squashed up together on the lower bunk. After a while the ferry began to move out of the port and the engines made a terrific groaning noise. Sophie started to whimper about Titanic again but after a few minutes she fell asleep and thankfully the noise of the engines stopped.
The crossing seemed very short and we were woken at 4.30am by a bell. I left Sophie in bed, quickly dressed and put some make-up on. I felt exhausted and could have done with another three hours' sleep!
My Dad made an appearance and we both went in search of hot coffee while Mum looked after a still-sleeping Sophie. The search for coffee proved elusive and the cafes were full of school children so we resigned ourselves to a caffeine-free start to the day. Even the coffee machine we found didn't work!
Thankfully we were soon back in the car and we promised ourselves a cup of cafe au lait at the first French cafe we came to. We drove slowly off the ferry amidst a long coil of British cars and we were soon on our way with my Dad navigating. We drove on and on with no sign at all of somewhere we could get breakfast as there was nowhere open and I didn't fancy driving into the centre of Caen just for coffee.
Soon we came to the small town of Argentan and we saw a sign for McDonalds. It certainly wasn't our ideal choice but by now we were desperate for a coffee and something to eat. We ordered Egg McMuffins, hot coffee and toasted muffins from a surly waitress but we didn't care! Soon afterwards another British family came in and I wondered whether the restaurant did a good trade from the ferry port.
Feeling better we were soon back on the road and heading for Le Mans. The weather was sunny and we looked forward to getting to our hotel and visiting the vineyard in the afternoon. The roads were almost empty and as we neared Le Mans we stopped for more coffee and pain au chocolat at a quiet service station. Sophie and Dad found a wonderful fountain and came back drenched!
At Saumur we turned off the motorway and headed towards the town of Chinon. There were vineyards along the side of the road all offering degustations (wine tastings) and numerous chateaux perched in the surrounding hills. The countryside was beautiful and we caught glimpses of the Loire river flowing alongside the road.
Chinon was a very pretty town and we found our hotel in a quiet back street. It was set back behind gates with its own parking. There was a lovely terrace with chairs and tables and an abundance of flowers. The owner, who spoke excellent English, showed us to our rooms in an annexe a short distance from the main hotel. The rooms were very clean but old-fashioned. Why do the French persist in using candlewick bedspreads? However, both rooms had spacious bathrooms and we were soon unpacking our bags and watching Sophie jump on the beds in glee!
We had an hour to spare before our appointment at the vineyard so we stopped at one of the wonderful roadside bars for lunch. It was in a quiet village and served specialities including quiche and croque monsieur. Sophie made friends with a little French girl and Dad enjoyed a glass of chilled red wine. In this area the reds (Chinon, Bourgeil and Saumur-Champigny) are often chilled slightly before serving, something we're not used to doing in Britain!
After a delicious lunch we carried on our way along a road that would become very familiar by the end of our little break. The tiny village of Chaintres is tucked away from the main road and we had several attempts at trying to find the vineyard, hampered by a couple of French drivers who insisted on driving too close to me despite my obvious GB sticker!
On the dot of 2.30pm we arrived at the Domaine de la Cune and met Jean Albert who is one of the brothers. He spoke excellent English and we waited in a cool room full of wine for another couple to arrive. Sophie had decided to have a nap so we parked her in a quiet corner while we got down to the serious business of wine tasting. The other couple had arrived and they were very friendly and obviously loved wine as much as we did. We tasted "our" wine, the 1997 3Jean which was exclusive to 3D Wines, and then some more examples of the vineyard - a Saumur-Champigny red, a white wine and a sparkling Saumur, which was delicious.
It was all very relaxing and afterwards we were given a tour by Jean Albert. He showed us the vines and how he was pruning them, the actual winery with the equipment and the fascinating cellar which was built 300 years ago and still holds large quantities of wine.
All too soon our visit was over so we loaded up the car with our cases of wine and departed, meandering around the picturesque vineyards before heading back to Chinon and an afternoon stroll. We wanted to find a good restaurant for the evening and walked around the lovely streets of the bustling little town. There were several places to choose from but the menus looked a little daunting for our three year old so we headed back to the Hotel Diderot to ask if they could recommend a suitable restaurant to eat. The owner's charming sister told us to try the Auberge Rouge where she said the menu was informal and it was a good place for children to eat.
After a quick bath we strolled to the restaurant but forgot the pushchair. A moany Sophie made sure we suffered as she wanted to be carried all the way there! The auberge was all we had hoped it would be and we were soon settled into a tiny alcove with a traditional menu offering specialities of the area, including eels, much to Dad's delight! We chose two specialities for starters which included foie gras, Vouvray pork ribs, pate and smoked ham. Four main courses we all had something different - I chose steak, Mum opted for lamb chops while Dad tried the duck. Sophie was delighted with her ham and fried potatoes. Our main courses came complete with goat's cheese and fruit on a wicker tray. We drank a bottle of red Chinon with the meal which was delicious.
On the way back to the hotel we took it in turns to carry a sleepy Sophie. It was still quite light and the shuttered houses reminded me of Pollensa in Mallorca. We were all looking forward to a good night's sleep as we were shattered by our long day!
Part 2 will follow shortly.
Sunday, 30 June 1996
Five Go Mad in Mallorca (Unfinished)
Monday 17 June 1996
Departure Day
The day had started badly when the arranged lift for my parents failed to arrive. Sitting in the hot sun, our party of three decided to abandon them to their fate, on the pretence of securing valuable plane seats and took off in a cloud of gravel, bound for Birmingham airport.
Fred met Freddy and did an excellent job of shading the youngest member of our party in the back seat, and we all arrived at the airport without mishap. Having gleaned the check-in desk number from a helpful Sunworld representative, we took up residence next to a crowd of Danish football supporters who were homeward-bound from the Euro 96 festival. We were soon joined by my parents, and my Dad revealed that he'd sent Graham on a wild goose chase to Wellingborough...
At the crucial moment of checking in, Mum and I were feeding baby Sophie and had to be brought back, Sophie dangling from a bottle (I muttered that it was a good job I wasn't breastfeeding...). We were forced to rearrange all of the baby paraphernalia we had with us to appease the check-in staff.
After this nasty business and successfully securing the bulkhead seats with a sky cot, we repaired to the pub. Well, the men did, we women carried on feeding and burping.
Thoughts turned to food after the beer, and the four of us, plus a sleeping fifth, stuffed sandwiches and pizza, washed down with coffee and read the newspapers. Mum and I liberated ourselves and shopped until we dropped before hitting the departure lounge and the Duty-Free shops.
Once inside the confines of the departure lounge, surrounded by bottles of whisky, Sophie fed once again and marvelled at all the new sights and sounds, arms and legs waving about in her excitement. However, once on the plane, it all became a bit too much, and, cradled in Keith's arms, she slept throughout the entire take-off, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the safety announcement.
The sky cot was useful for a few seconds until she woke up and demanded to see everything that was going on, highly amused at the sight of us all trying to eat our in-flight meals without spilling them everywhere. Once we had eaten our lunch, it was time for hers, but the stewardess, who was too busy selling duty-free, was a little late in warming up the bottle, and the rest of the plane heard about it...
The landing was a big bore for baby Sophie, despite the turbulence and thick cloud, but an airport arrivals hall is a wonderful place for displaying a poohy nappy! What a greeting for Mallorca!
The Mediterranean island welcomed us with warm weather and sunshine, and we had plenty of time to admire the surrounding building sites while waiting for our rental car to be sorted out. We waited, and waited... and waited! Finally, the problem was sorted, and we asked if we wanted "Wan ker?" We sincerely hoped we hadn't upset them, but as it turned out, we hadn't, and they provided a huge stretch limousine to get us to the car hire premises. Baby Sophie recognised this as her true vocation in life and tried to wave to passers-by. It was a shame the windows were backed out...
Another problem surfaced at the car hire premises as they evidently thought we were a travelling troupe of contortionists... A two-door Vauxhall Corsa was offered to us, but we politely told them we didn't think that was a good idea, so they offered us a four-door Corsa instead... This time, my Mum told them what they could do with it, and faced with her fury, we were finally given a Vauxhall Astra estate, with air-conditioning. It pays to complain, you know.
The journey to the villa was, sadly, uneventful. After all the excitement, we thought we would at least get lost, but apart from the occasional whimper of a baby that was regularly starved, we enjoyed the beautiful scenery en route to Puerto Pollensa.
Our landmark was a tall Cypress tree, which my parents recognised from an earlier jaunt to the resort, the villa situated up a narrow track in the middle of arable farmland. Driving through the gates, we immediately liked what we saw: an earthy brown villa with a huge courtyard, shuttered windows and gorgeous gardens leading to a pool and barbecue area.
The pool looked very inviting, but there was too much exploring to be done, and each new discovery brought gasps of delight from the whole party. The pool was surrounded by lemon and apple trees, and shaded lawns, and the barbecue area had two sinks, work surfaces and a huge bathroom. Flowers and exotic plants grew abundantly, with two palm trees in the courtyard overlooking the farmland beyond.
Inside, the villa was cool and dark, with a small sitting room, a lounge area with a large table and chairs, and a kitchen with an open fireplace. The first bedroom led off the landing, and my parents took this room. Further up the stairs were three more bedrooms, completely taken over by us. The view from the shower room was beautiful, and more than made up for the lack of space.
After a frenzy of unpacking, we drove to Puerto Pollensa for much-needed sustenance - lots of Sangria for the ladies (except Sophie) and beer for the men. Everyone agreed that the villa was perfect, and the setting was wonderful.
Puerto Pollensa was very much alive, with young families wandering slowly along the promenade, and even the youngest children having the time of their lives with their families. The front was lined with bars and restaurants, and somewhere Spanish music played softly on the breeze. Uniformed waiters hurried to get orders, and everyone looked healthy, relaxed and tanned.
Dinner was eaten at a pizzeria next door to the bar, and afterwards, we drove back to the villa to collapse exhausted on our beds.
Relaxing by the pool and eating!
After breakfast the next day, the whole party descended on the local supermarket and drained it of its beer and wine. These were the most important purchases, closely followed by foodstuffs. The rest of the day was spent around the pool, sleeping, reading and enjoying the local food. Various aperitifs were drunk throughout the day to keep the fluid levels up.
The days of the first week followed a similar pattern, with the evenings spent in Puerto Pollensa. The best restaurant in the town was El Carno, a Swiss-run establishment that didn't offer small portions. The red cabbage was exquisite, and the steaks tender and delicious, with the salad starter a firm favourite. The staff were very friendly, and the chef remembered Dad from a previous holiday. He looked after us very well!
We ate out at another restaurant in Puerto Pollensa, which was on the front and nicknamed "Windy Corner" by us. Our waiter had studied at the school of Basil Fawlty, for he was completely forgetful, and Keith had to ask him four times for a beer! The food here was disappointing, but it was one of the most expensive meals of the holiday. We sat in a Force 10 gale, and this time Sophie was awake while we ate, but was happy and smiling. One poor couple had to take turns eating, as their crying baby refused to go to sleep. Sophie was mesmerised by the lights swinging in the wind and the leaves of a tree above us, and enjoyed everything that was going on.
A trip to Soller
On the first Thursday of the holiday, we took the car over the mountains to the fishing village of Soller, stopping at a monastery on the way. There were crowds of tourists at the monastery, with several huge tour buses turning up and disgorging Spaniards, Germans and Brits. We wandered about in the heat and enjoyed a beer in the café while discussing the various types of mosquito killers available. Apart from baby Sophie, we had all been afflicted with bites, and Sophie escaped by being covered in repellent and having a net covering her pushchair at night to keep the little buggers at bay.
The road to Soller was beautiful, with twists and turns through tree-covered mountains. We were glad of the air conditioning in the car as the outside temperature was in the 90s.
After lunch, we ambled into town and waited for the little train to take us back to the car. The train goes all the way to Palma, winding its way through the high mountains, and it must be a spectacular journey. The trip back to the car didn't take long, but it was lovely to see the bay again, and Sophie enjoyed sitting on Mum's lap and being admired by several Spanish grandmothers. Everywhere she went, she was cooed over and praised. We hope it doesn't go to her head!
We took the scenic route back to Puerto Pollensa, a mountainous road that included a long section of hairpin bends. A driver behind us, who was obviously local, overtook us on a bend and then signalled for the driver behind him to do the same!
Fun in the pool!
A trip to nearby Cala San Vicente one afternoon offered us the chance to buy two huge rings, which we used to race against each other in the pool. Keith and I sat in the hole in the middle with our legs dangling over the edge, and we used our arms to propel ourselves along. This was done with the accompaniment of much yelling and screaming, which set off all the neighbourhood dogs.
My Mum was too nervous about deep water to venture away from the shallow end until my Dad dragged her out to the middle. The screaming this time could have been heard in Palma! The rubber rings were also great for lazing about in the pool, wearing a big hat and enjoying a cool drink; it was heaven.
England v Spain
On the first Saturday, the men decided to watch England play Spain in the Euros at a bar in Cala San Vicente. The ladies opted for a lazy afternoon around the pool, which was much more sensible in the heat. Much sleeping, eating and drinking took place in the villa in the peace of the afternoon. It was very quiet with only the occasional overhead aircraft breaking the silence. Even the cockerels were asleep.
The men returned, jubilant, after the English defeated the Spaniards on a penalty shoot-out. The atmosphere in the bar had been good-natured, though, with the Spanish gracious in their defeat.
Barbecue!
The first barbecue of the holiday was a feast of chicken and kebabs. The chicken was marinated in a delectable sauce and then grilled over the coals. The ladies cooked potatoes and made a salad while the men did the hot stuff. Cava was drunk in great quantities, and Mum and Dad danced on the terrace to Dire Straits. Baby Sophie, as usual, slept through the whole evening, protected by her mosquito net, and missed all the fun.
The villa looked particularly beautiful at night, with small lamps twinkling along the paths and on the buildings. Underwater lights in the pool turned the water a translucent blue, and the cicadas almost drowned out the music on the CD player with their buzzing. We declared the villa the best restaurant on the island!
A change in the weather...
Sadly, the first Sunday of the holiday dawned cloudy and chilly, and Mum and Dad ventured into the old town of Pollenca with Sophie to go to the weekly market. Keith and I walked to the nearby supermarket, which was crowded with "Hooray Henrys" buying food for their barbecues. On the way back to the villa, we stopped at a nearby restaurant, which we christened "The Yellow Canary" (actually Ca'n Pacienci), to look at the menu, which was very interesting, despite being a tad expensive.
Mum and Dad returned from Pollenca with equally good reports of the restaurants there, which we decided to try.
Because the weather had not improved, we drove to Cap de Formentor, the most northerly point of the island. It was reached by a tortuous, winding road with steep drops, and definitely wasn't for the fainthearted! It seemed that most of the population of northern Mallorca had the same idea, as a long crocodile of cars followed each other along the narrow highway, with a tiny, packed car park at the end. The views weren't as spectacular as they could have been because of the cloudy skies, and the sheer popularity of the area diminished our enjoyment, so we soon left, winding our way back down to the safer roads around Puerto Pollensa.
Exploring the island
The weather was determined to be bad for the next couple of days so we explored the island and drove through Alcudia, the next resort along from PP, and on down to Cala Milor on the east coast. Elsewhere, people opted for long walks to pass the time, the pleasures of the beach and swimming temporarily denied to them.
As we journeyed further south, the weather improved, and each degree of warmth was greeted with enthusiasm. The scenery continued to be beautiful with small, sleepy villages dozing in the midday sun. This part of Mallorca still seemed to be safe from the disagreeable ravages of tourism, and we decided to have lunch in Cales de Mallorca, where Mum and Dad had stayed five years previously. Although now warm and sunny, it was very windy, and from our restaurant table, we could see the sea whipped up into a frenzy of white foam. We all agreed that Puerto Pollensa (PP) was probably the most scenic of the resorts we had visited, and decided to head back in the hope of some late sunbathing around the pool.
A near miss!
A particularly bad storm affected Keith and me on the Tuesday of the second week when we decided to venture out for a walk (actually, nosing about outside villas and peering into gardens would have been a more apt description of our activities!). We had almost reached the top of the escarpment that overlooked the area when the rain began to fall, and thunder boomed. Sheltering under a tree didn't help much, as we were both starting to feel cold, and we were wet already. I hoped that the much-searched-for villa of Michael Douglas was nearby so that he could come along and offer us a respite from the storm, but it was not to be. Nobody came to the rescue of the two bedraggled figures, so we decided to make a run for it in the torrential rain, and I nearly met my maker when a bolt of lightning hit a fence just behind me... Keith didn't tell me this until we reached the safety of the villa, and it certainly added excitement to our walk! From now on, I think I'll stick to watching them from inside!
The five of us explored Pollenca later in the day when the rain had cleared, and we were pleasantly surprised by what we found. Pollenca is an old Roman town, with a maze of winding streets and tall buildings with shuttered windows, leading onto a beautiful square overlooked by an imposing monastery on a hill. A huge church stands at one end of the square with leafy trees providing much-needed shade. It seems to be a meeting place for the town's inhabitants. A couple of bars provide the perfect opportunity to sip a cold beer and watch the local life.
The surrounding streets had a couple of nice restaurants, one of which, Ca'n Costa, was our venue of choice for the evening's meal. Mum and I went inside to book a table, but there wasn't a soul about. The interior was beautiful with large paintings hanging on the walls, and several deep sofas to relax on while having a pre-dinner drink or end-of-meal coffee.
The restaurant reminded me of a French auberge, and indeed the owners turned out to be from France. We only hoped they were as keen on babies as the Spanish were!
Later that evening, before drinks in the square in Pollenca, we booked our table, and Sophie was more than welcome. The evening was delightful, the skies had cleared, and the late sun cast a soft glow on the surrounding buildings. Tourists mingled with locals, enjoying the weather, and there was a wonderful atmosphere... or was it the Campari?
Dinner was all we had hoped it would be, and Sophie slept through the whole evening, not uttering a sound. The food was delicious and included warm goat's cheese salad, terrine of duck, a whole baby chicken, rack of lamb and yet more duck, a speciality of the area, it seemed. The service was friendly, and everyone cooed over our sleeping Sophie. The restaurant was obviously popular, and although we heard a few "Hooray Henry" voices, they didn't spoil our enjoyment of the evening. We took our coffees and liqueurs on the squashy sofas, and I wished we could stay in Mallorca forever.
Walking back through the deserted town at the end of the evening was like passing through a different town. The narrow, winding streets were dark and full of shadows, and no light shone through the shuttered windows. I was glad we were in Mallorca and not a town in England...
The "Yellow Canary"
The next evening, we tried the "Yellow Canary", which was run by a friendly Englishman. We booked a table and made sure it was acceptable to bring a baby. The restaurant was the prettiest we'd been to; a whitewashed building covered in a gorgeous mauve flower with tables and chairs outside on the verandah, as well as inside. We were seated outside, and Sophie slept through the whole evening again and was much admired by everyone. Of course, that goes without saying!
Our meal was delicious, and this time we enjoyed assorted hors d'oeuvres, scampi, fillet of beef and the speciality of the house, duck. The food was excellent, and the service was friendly and efficient. Mum and I became a bit tipsy, and she insisted on taking me to the loo with her even though I didn't want to go! There was only one toilet, so I had to stand outside like a spare pork chop at a Jewish wedding with everyone wondering what I was doing. Also, because I was tipsy, I had a silly grin on my face...
Our meal at the restaurant was finished off with desserts, cheese and coffee, and everyone agreed it was expensive but worth the money. Back at the villa, Keith and I rounded off our evening with a nude dip in the pool. We turned all the lights off, except for those in the pool and enjoyed our swim with hundreds of insects attracted to the lights. It was very beautiful, and I wished I could have taken a photograph of the luminescent blue water, the dark, inky sky overhead sparkling with stars, and the occasional lights of an arriving plane. The swim certainly made us feel cooler in the hot evening air, and we slept better that night.
England v Germany
The weather improved again on the second Thursday, so we made up for lost time by doing some serious sunbathing. The evening before, we had eaten in Cala San Vicente again as England was playing Germany in the semi-final of the Euros. We ate at a pizzeria, which was disappointing, and the men went off to watch the football while Mum and I took Sophie for a walk.
We walked around a small headland and into another bay - Cala Molins - which was very pretty. There was a large hotel there and several villas nestling into the hills opposite. It seemed as if it was mostly women walking about, as obviously, all the men were watching the football! The evening was clear and sunny, and the views over to the rocky headland were gorgeous. From this small bay, it's possible to walk to Puerto Pollenca, and it looked like an interesting trail to follow, but we turned back and returned to the bar to watch the football match.
When we arrived back at the bar, the score was 1-1, and the tension was mounting. I'm glad to say that the atmosphere was lighthearted with both German and English supporters sitting side by side. The game went to extra time, followed by a penalty shoot-out, with Germany eventually winning.
Unfortunately, for some reason, I never finished this diary of our first holiday to Mallorca with Sophie. I do know that it was a lovely holiday and we have many photos and videos to look back on. This was the start of our love affair with the island, which continues to this day!
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