a long summer return via issoire

Firstly, Sablet via Aubenas and Brioude to Issoire…

Getting ourselves back to Blightey was straightforward enough this time (summer 2021) after we'd started off going in the opposite direction to Monteux to get the required PCR test from a lab (we are talking covid-19 here). But that was achieved in a reasonable timeframe… we left 1RueFB finally at about 08.40. 

So our way back to Angleterre (did we really want to go back?) was a re-run of our retreat of Summer 2019 (coming back, cooling down). At least up to and including our Amboise stop-over that is: we enjoyed that transfer and so we decided to use it again. I'm not going to detain you with another account of it… we stopped in different places and I didn't take many snaps, much. But as routes go, itsapeach!

Day one featured some pretty heavy rain on the climb up onto the central massif, but after that the weather largely behaved itself. There was much more traffic about at times (notably day one) and on some parts of our route, much less traffic. Strange that. Issoire hotel was full. But we'd booked so that was not an issue. No snaps taken.

In 2019 we went to Amboise after Issoire to take in the Chaumont Garden Festival [qv] but that wasn't on this time so we confined our aspirations to side-tracking to Oisly, to get some Touraine wine. But it was Sunday: our favoured domaine was not open for sales. 

How didn't we know what day of the week it was? 

Prior to the Oisly disappointment we had found things were slightly open in Sainte-Sévère-sur-Indre where we called when we twigged the place had 'significance' (see Jour de Fête post for more detail, go on go on, you know you've just got to, you can finish this post off some other time, life is passing you by and it is going on a bit……).

After the Amboise overnight we pottered up to Cherbourg this time – instead of Roscoff (the overnight sailings from there being fully booked). Breakfast was taken at Vibraye, all of 60 miles out from the hotel (and not 60kms as reported elsewhere): there was nowhere else open other than les 2 entêtès (see left: it was good coffee, we'd obtained the croissants and pastry miles back). 

We clocked up 301 miles in total on day three including a few potterings off the route here and there, notably to the western tip of the peninsula for stunning views, probably, west to the haze-obscured Channel islands and looking the other way, France's principle nuclear processing plant. 

Before coasting in the north we had a reasonable (C+) lunch in a brasserie in Carentan (quayside) after showing our NHS vaccination certificates. 

We arrived altogether too early for the boat but by doing so, and being 'on the ball,' we got ourselves on the Galicia rather more easily than we had expected… 

Y'see, one had to have so many bits of paper, or similar, Q codes and stuff, on your digital screen (smartie phone by default, laptop or other personal device – if not one of the smart phone majority) that, sure as eggs are oeufs, quite a few of our fellow travellers were somewhat 'at sea' with collecting all that together in one place to allow them to embark. 

Mme Melling had managed it perfectly, even if her language had been occasionally rather 'saxon' and 'choice' in Amboise Ibis as she wrestled with her smartphone and the robotic powers that be, to assemble all and every certificate of cleanliness needed by us both in a readily presentable format. It took a while, best part of deux heures in fact, but when we drew up at the embarkation kiosk at Cherbourg it proved to have been time well spent. We simply slipped across an iPad apiece to the reception operative, thumbs up from her, her countenance wreathed in gratitude for at least one set of travellers on top of things et up to speed, and through we went. OK so I overshot the French police post who wanted to see and stamp our passports, but we weren't fired upon… chased down by a Berlingo squad van, but all sorted, passports embossed, guns back in holsters, after which we proceeded to lane six to wait for a few more folk to successfully negotiate their way to the quayside… Galicia sailed at least half empty…… how many were left behind? Nobody knows…

It was even easier getting off the ship in Portsmouth. Within twenty or so minutes of coming alongside we were out and battling through the ever-present roadworks on the M27, finally arriving back at Bullsmead Towers well before ten in the morning. I think Mme Melling was almost disappointed that we weren't asked at Portsmouth Passport Control to trot out the complete works all over again… no, it was simple, '… thank you, next…it's all on the computer madame, no that's fine, carry on…'

The ferry was the rather imposing new BF ship (the aformentioned Galicia) and very comfortable with it (not sure that the ship alone would be enough to persuade us to come this way in preference to Roscoff: the drive from Portsmouth has got no better or shorter, but the vessel is a step up from our favoured but ageing Armorique). 

Still can't believe how we managed to get our ducks not just in a row but in the right order, the right ducks and suitably displayed on digital devices; you'll probably be aware I am not a smart phone user or fan despite the increasing pressure to join the masses in that respect. At time of writing I am still holding out……  but credit where credit is due: it was Mrs M what done it and she done it good. 

Hey, this was a good trip back! Let's do it again, but next time north to south! 

OK, you're on… How's about September? 

Don't just sit there woman, get on with the bookings, I've just honed the route…… 

Footnote: Jour de Fête is a sister post to this one, because my dears, one of those places (Sainte-Sévère-sur-Indre) was passed by previously but then recognised, visited and re-evaluated this time. Read it up to be really with it (or not, it's a free country, sort of).