Terrafirma Travels

We were waiting at the campsite bus stop by 10am, with a crowd of other campers. Our bus thundered through junctions, taking no prisoners despite the fact it was a huge bendy bus. After 20 mins we reached a station where we planned to take the metro into the old town. But our Santander credit card would not allow entry into the metro. Two kind local women tried everything to help. The ticket machines were broken. L tried loading the Lyon travel app into her phone but it refused to load. We were apparently stuck. Until L tried her debit card, et voila. We had not realised that only a debit card would do. Had a coffee in the centre, wandered around the old town. Found a traboule, one of the mysterious ancient passageways that are to be found around old Lyon. The door has a brass plaque requesting the curious to be quiet when they enter in. The stone interior winds around different high buildings and ends up in another street. Very Gormenghast, or Harry Potter.  By now it was time for...

A cool grey morning dissuaded us from a swim, and anyway it's a long drive today. We feel like we're headed 'downhill' to home now with only 6 days left ... but we still have the delights of France. Prompt departure at 9am all of 200m to El Gigante supermarket for more food & drink topups plus paracetamol. On the road (many roads ... have I said what a mess the road system is?) by 10 as planned. Cloudy sun, good driving day. We've decided on 4 short 'watches' of about an hour and twenty, with a long break at Chamonix, because these roads and traffic are quite tiring.  Good road and less traffic as we head north west towards Mont Blanc, much easier driving. Pee stop and swap drivers somewhere. As we get into the mountains the scenery is excellent and the series of tunnels quite stupendous. Only 5 cars and a few minutes queue, and no customs, to pay €56 (!) to transit the Mont Blanc tunnel - it's impressive but at 11.6km it's shorter than the other...

L went for a run inside the enormous campsite, as the security gates will not open until 0730, too late for our schedule. She tried to run on grass or concrete to avoid waking the sleeping hordes in vans and tents. Coughed endlessly as pollen blew in a fierce breeze.  By 0915 we were ready for the bus to the ferry port to take us to Isola Madre, one of the famous Borromean islands on Maggiore. Reception suggested that instead of the bus, we take the child-friendly road train that picks campers up to take them into town. We agreed. It was a rollicking ride, first of the day. Cost us twice as much as the bus! A number of jolly German couples got on board, laughing like drains, and soon we were dropped off at a street market somewhere near the port. No signposts to help, in Italy everyone assumes you know where to go. The tourist office told us where to find the ferry ticket office and we bought our round trip tickets. It was not where Reception had told us, with full confidence....

L forgot to mention yday the great porridge incident; she got up quickly because the kettle was boiling and tipped the table - which in fairness is very tippable. Two bowls of porridge half-emptied into the driver's seat, and N just managed to save his coffee from adding to the mix. Much cleaning up,  and today the seat looks fine, although the driver's trousers yday were damp. Took the 'pretty' route to Como i.e. no motorway, and it was pretty ... tortuous. The Italian road system is a jumbled mess.  Without Mrs Googlemaps we would still be out there. Another trillion roundabouts, and OMG the Italian driving is v close to being a contact sport. Don't get us started on the state of the roads. Also all the buildings in this part of Italy seem tired and grubby - the whole place looks run down. The people, of course, are all lovely.  Como is big and choked with traffic and the road system is a mystery. Still, we found the ideal parking spot facing the lake and just 5 m...

Lesley's run was very unlike the first one she did. The wind was wild, skies grey, and white waves flew across the lake surface. Once again, it was a challenge to get back into the secure campsite. Perhaps someone was late opening the gates. Anyway, she searched around the site until she found a bent-back section of fence, and crawled under it, dirtying her kit. So embarrassing, but no-one saw. We set off for Maggiore with a stop at Lake Iseo, a smaller lake surrounded by tall mountains.  It was lovely even in misty drizzle. We found a place to park by the water and a cafe for decaf coffee and cake. We retraced our steps around the lake on our way to Maggiore, to the village of Sarnico where we watched some yachts sailing and had our usual sandwiches in the van. How very British.  The journey to Maggiore took us around countless roundabouts and on to a very full and fast motorway which skirted Milan. The Italians drive like racing drivers, swooping across lanes with no signals...

Last night we discovered the source of a rhythmic high-pitched cry - a Scops owl. We could not see it because it is only the size of a starling and it was deep dusk. In other bird news, we heard another cuckoo this morning during our unintentionally leisurely up and breakfast. Had a SWIM in the lake at the foot of the campsite (yes, it slopes) which was very refreshing. Yes we were the only swimmers ... well, it was 0930. We found the ladder entry much better than the lethally slippery pebbles.  After some research we decided to take a drive up the west side towards the pointy bits. At the south end where we are the landscape is very flat. After a million roundabouts we were driving alongside the lake, first high up then at water level, and in company with a million Italians - it's a sunny Saturday. When we got to the pointy bits there were many tunnels, narrow and poorly lit. Does not compare well with the Swiss and Austrian ones. We spotted a cafe with stupendous views so dived i...