Doors of Annecy

We arrived at Saint-Jorioz on the shores of Lake Annecy after the madness and heat of the Italian F1 Grand Prix at Monza. It was cloudy and there was a cool breeze. It was heaven! We chose the campsite Europa for its proximity to the cycle path that runs 30 kilometres at the side of the lake connecting Annecy in the north and Albertville in the south. The campsite is an ACSI site and charges 19 euro per night, out of season, for a motorhome and two adults. Not bad you might think; but Mrs Slaw didn’t read the small print in detail and we realised just before arrival the shop, bar and restaurant are now closed and the use of the swimming pool is not included in the price. Hmmm. Okay, the least time spent on the site the better.

We cycled 10 kilometres from Saint-Jorioz up to Annecy on the cycle path. It’s flat and very easy to follow along the shoreline and takes approx 40 minutes. Along the way, we noted alternative camping places for if we return. There is a campsite at Sevrier, Le Panoramic, that offers a motorhome pitch for two adults for 8 euro per night. No arrivals before 6pm and all departures before 10am. Not bad and, at 2.30pm, there was a row of motorhomes parked up waiting for 6pm. Hopefully the campers were not sat inside twiddling their thumbs, but out enjoying the beautiful area. We also came across an aire 1 km south of Annecy behind the car park at Chemin de Colmyr. You can park there for up to 24 hours for free. At 2.30pm it was crammed full. So full, there wasn’t even space to open a locker door between them!

We locked up our cycles at the port and went off to explore the old town. Quaint, cobbled streets crisscross under dark archways. Above are brightly painted medieval buildings with shuttered windows festooned with flower boxes. A water inlet flows through the town to the port and rusting metal waterworks provide a focal point for budding photographers. A single cygnet swam gracefully up and down, gaining independence from its parents who appeared to be posing for the coach load of Japanese tourists, but it was obviously still downy and young. Annecy is a perfect picture opportunity, but marred at present as the world famous Bastille is undergoing repairs and is shrouded in scaffolding and sheeting. As you wander through the town, photographs present themselves at every turn; street lamps modelled on old gas lamps, clocks high on buildings, floral displays lining the water perfectly framing your shot, and iron water pumps providing a bathing opportunity for pigeons. Slaw was as happy as a pig in the proverbial!

But it was the doors that caught my eye. Some tucked away in a dark corner, hidden from view. Some in full view, but unseen by the passing hoards. Beautiful wooden doors. Some polished, some dull and dusty but with intricate wrought iron work and some so leaned over it would be a miracle if they still open. The doors hold so much history. Who has been through the door? What was their purpose? What life celebrations and tragedies have unfolded through them? I am always compelled to touch wooden doors; to connect with them, and to trace the grooves worn from a lifetime of use.

Street cafes are in abundance and after a pleasant stroll, we joined the tourists in the Cafe des Ducs overlooking the water and across to the church square. We ordered deux bierre blonde et un bruschetta. Mrs Slaw sat back to enjoy a bit of people watching and Slaw started moaning. ‘Is your beer alright? Mine tastes funny’. Oh no! Scenes of Italy all over again when Slaw argued with an Italian over how Peroni should be served! I took his from him and he ordered a St. Stefanus instead. Admittedly, the blonde had an unusual sweet and floral taste, but it was only ‘unusual’; there was nothing wrong with it.

To aire or not to aire – part deux.

Well, we’ve only gone and done it! We’ve finally stayed in an aire. Le Crotoy is a small town just below Boulogne and boasts two aires – one in the dunes and one at the port. We decided if it was wet we’d stay in the town, but it was a nice day so we headed for the dunes.

On arrival there were a few other motorhomes already set up. First dilemma. Where should we park? Being British, we don’t want to park too close for fear of offending someone. We chose to go next to a French motorhome, the owner of which promptly came over and said ‘you can’t park there. We are saving that spot for our friends who haven’t arrived yet’. Well, I think that’s what her French and gesticulation meant! We budged over a bit and no-one else came over and asked us to move.

We chocked up and then went over to the payment machine. 7 euro for 24 hours and the machine only takes coins. Second dilemma. Slaw used his best French and managed to get a note changed at another motorhome. Walking back over to Dora with our ticket, we had a look round at everyone elses’s set-up, as you do. ‘All the Aires France’ book states the French law that winding out awnings and putting tables and chairs is not allowed in aires. However, most units had one or the other or both. The book says ‘French nationals break the rules. Do not follow their example’. Third dilemma. So, when in Rome (okay France) we put our table and chairs out and enjoyed the last of the evening sun. A moonlit stroll along the beach before bed and we slept like babies. The aire was very quiet.

Next morning at bang on 9am a little white van rolled up beeping his horn and selling bread and pastries. Before setting off on the road some motorhomes were using the service point and emptying their loo or grey waste (free) or taking on board water or a boost of electric (2 euro each). We did neither, but if we had that would have bumped the cost of the night up to 11 euro.

At a coffee stop further en route we called in an aire in Lamotte Beuvron. Space for six motorhomes and nothing else. No room to set up tables and chairs there. Free parking, water and waste disposal was available at the service point though. We serviced Dora and headed off again. When we left the aire was full, also two motorhomes had parked on the road to the aire and two had come too late and moved off to try elsewhere. Note to self – arrive early in free aires. They fill up quick.

Next night we stayed on a campsite that cost 17 euro. We had electric hook up and hot showers, but that was the only difference. Would we stay in an aire again? Yes, we probably would now we’ve broken our duck and we weren’t gassed by the ne’er do wells who are out to get Slaw……..