14. Sep, 2022

14. Sep, 2022

WEDNESDAY 14-09-22

As we had a dump station so close to us this morning we again had the pleasure of a lovely hot shower. We didn't intend to dash away to reach the seaside because campsite receptions tend to close for a lie down between 12:00 and 14:00, and for us, there would be nowhere to park outside whilst we waited for them to reopen.

Having dumped our grey water we made our way downhill to the coast. We only had one clap of thunder and that was just before we set off. Other than that it was steady rain for about half the journey. To keep things as safe as possible I paid particular attention to my wing mirrors so that I could let following motorists get past me just as soon as I could once they'd caught up with us.

We were soon down the hill and on the outskirts of Nice. As our satnav loves to spend our money it did take us for a short ride on the toll road before we left it at Villeneuve-Loubet. We did take a little ride past the campsite. To make matters more confusing it is split in to two halves, one on each side of the road, but as we passed, both sides looked to be pretty full of vehicles. So we made our way up the road towards Antibes in order to find somewhere to park up. Fortunately we did come across somewhere on the other side of the road used by 'Free Spirits' parked just off the road and living there full time surrounded by their garbage, the presence of which seems to bring them comfort.

Having parked up and pulled my wing mirror in The Chef rang the campsite to see what time they wanted us there (we knew the answer really, we were just trying it on). They said we could come right away. This was at 11:50 and they close at 12:00. There was  no way we were going to get there in time given the stop-start traffic along that stretch of road. We got there at 12:15. Fortunately there were some marked car parking spaces in a lay-by just before the campsite entrance. I bagged the four I needed.

My Chief Scout, Hiawatha Chef, went ahead to survey the land. She returned and reported that the pitch we had been allocated, 31, was on the other side of the road from the main complex. The bonus being that although the barrier was down for their forty-winks there was a Dutch couple on the pitch we had been allocated and were, at the Receptions request, moving to another pitch and had loaned her the barrier key so that we could get in.

So by the time the Campsite Reception opened again at 14:00, we were all set up and sat out in the sunshine.

So here we are Camping Hippodrome www.camping-hippodrome.com (N43.641875° E7.137946°) For us the only place to be along this coastline, and we are so happy to be here. Today has just been a working day at the office to get us here. Our visit begins properly tomorrow when I shall start a new chapter on the blog. I shall also try and produce some short videos of where we go so that I can reduce down the number of photographs as I'm aware that the number I upload causes grief in click, click, clicking back to the text before then going 'Newer' to look at the photographs.

At the moment we are 'enjoying' a few hours of light rain showers, but it's not an issue today. The latest Meteorological guess is that the rest of our stay here is non-stop sunshine. I think tomorrow we'll start off with just a walk up to Cagnes-sur-Mer, where the last time we were here we had an interesting visit to the artist Renoir's house. Though we won't go there again - you can have too much of a good thing.

I hate to raise it but am I the only one getting a trifle fed up with the coverage being given on TV and the newspapers to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II's death? Don't get me wrong. I have the utmost love and respect for her. I'm sure most of us have only ever known her as our Monarch, and she's never put a foot wrong during seventy years of reigning over us. But she was 96, her death was expected, and she died in comfort, surrounded by people to wait on her hand and foot. She didn't die from hypothermia or malnutrition, which is a fate awaiting so many of her loyal subjects this coming winter.

And as for her son, King Charles III, I reserve my judgement, he certainly isn't his mother. Have you seen the couple of ill-tempered little spats he had over inkpots being in his way and a leaky pen when signing his death warrant some visitors book or other? Here's a tip Charlie - send a flunky down to the local newsagents to buy you a black Biro. That way you've always got a Plan B without embarrassing yourself or the rest of us.

I suppose really they're just a product of their ancestors. Take one of them, King Edward VII, who apparently had a potato named after him. More than that, with the help of his head chef he created potato crisps. Then having done so, this daring playboy wanted to come up with a catchy flavour. And so 'Cock' flavoured crisps came about. Now most sane, right minded people would know that he meant 'Chicken'. But embarrassingly when his new wife, Princess Alexandra of Denmark had her friends round for a chat and afternoon nibbles Cock-flavoured crisps were served. After nibbling a large one her best friend announced 'Alex, they're wonderful and they really do taste like your Eddie'.

13. Sep, 2022

13. Sep, 2022

13. Sep, 2022