SPAIN, FRANCE - March 11, 2012

Spain, France - March 11, 2012

We lobed into a campground near Amarante on northeast coast of Spain. One of the unique things

to notice here are the breadbox-like (Dawn’s description), coffin-like (my description) elevated “things” which originally were used to store corn and grain to dry. Stunningly beautiful area along a rugged coast but…the campground was without electricity. So the next day we headed out over hills peppered with wind turbines and even more stunning scenery.

We arrived at a campground outside Luarco with a feisty kitten which was ready to come home with us. The campsite was about 100 meters straight up from the ocean with pounding seas. With such scenery and weather being so magical we stayed two days. Each night the lighthouse about two kilometers away worked tirelessly to warn seafarers of the coastal dangers. It didn’t affect our wine drinking though. Swiss folks who camped next to us had stayed two weeks in Los Escullos (the campground in Southern Spain we had stayed in for two months). There is lots of farming in this region of Spain, mainly milk cows which offer a snootful of odours.

We headed around and past Santiago de Compostella, a world famous pilgrimage route to where St. James the Apostle is supposedly buried. Lots of signs on the roads marking the route for the cyclists and the walkers.

And here, when they set up a cemetery, they do not mess about. There are a few of these ornate jobees in a small area. Though over the top and extremely ornate, they are impressive.

The northwestern part of Spain is very hilly and green…meaning lots of rain. A beautiful rugged coastline which is basically the western continuation of the Pyrenees. There is a national park here called Los Picos de Europa or The Peaks of Europe. High mountains with snow this time of year and some of the most beautiful mountain scenery we’ve seen anywhere. We continued on around Santandar on the coast and through Bilbao, a crazy city.

This is Basque country, a region mostly in Spain but jutting also into France, long known for wanting to form its own country. The separatist group’s terrorist activists have stopped but the feelings have not. Most signs are in Spanish and Basque, a language which has never been traced to its source. With the terrain so rugged and valleys so narrow most towns have grown up rather than out. What may be a town of modest population has endless large and tall apartment blocks for housing and business. We camped in Zarautz on the coast. The campsites were above the sea and looking down on the town with its wide sandy beach making for an amazing view especially at night.

The next day…France…land of cheese, baguettes, and constant labour strikes. Through St. Jean de Luz and the Biaritz/Bayonne area with its crazy traffic even during the off season. In 2006 we spent a week here. Up through the southwest with the large tree farms of France before hitting what most consider to be the most famous wine region in the world…the Bordeaux region. Endless vineyards as far as the palate can taste.

One particular wine, Chateau Margaux, goes for 50 Euros to 1000 Euros ($75 to $1500) a bottle!!! A BOTTLE!! A few years ago a (very good) friend shared one of his with us. It really was amazing! Selfish S.O.B. didn’t want to crack another though! We bought many of you a few of these so carefully and patiently watch your mail-boxes for the arrivals. We camped here just to catch the aromas and sniff a few vines.
Under gorgeous sunshine we drove to Isle de Re, an island (though linked by a bridge), we had wanted to see for years. Long, pretty, narrow, it is home to lighthouses, a local wine, sandbars, high winds, twisted trees, and the funkiest long-haired donkeys you have ever seen! We had lunch in St. Martin de Re, the largest of the ports and known for “the place to be seen”…nobody saw us.

After two days we left the island toward Piriac, about three hours north on the coast of Brittany, and one of Dawn’s most favourite places on the planet.

The area is known for its tough characters, a difficult Celtic language, thatched roofed houses, and a preference for apple cider rather than wine (just to prove they really aren’t French). Over the last twenty years we’ve spent lots of time here as one of my uncles kept a base in Piriac for his boat and seafaring activities. Piriac is one of the prettiest old fishing villages you'll see anywhere.

We’ve been here during the wild storms of February when nothing was open and no tourists were to be seen outside Paris and during the crazy tourist-packed summer months of blue skies. My uncle doesn’t stay here anymore but we came through to check up on old friends. One, Mr. Garnier (everyone calls him Mr. out of respect) is VERY old…he turned 101 years old last month and we wanted to congratulate him and just say hi. The others, Rene and Jose, were fishing friends of my uncle’s whom we got to know well (over a drink) and whose company we always enjoyed (over a drink).

From Piriac it was off to the Loire Valley, famous for chateaus and, more importantly, delectable wines such as Saumur, Chinon and white Sancerre. We had seen Chinon and Sancerre, as well as the inside of their bottles before, so this time we decided on Saumur on the south side of the Loire valley just west of Tours. A beautiful town with endless 17th and 18th century houses and an overpowering chateau for those who were from the very rich and famous class, notably the French royalty otherwise based in Paris.

The next day, March 9, we arrived back in Areines and the little apartment we use as a “home” base. Unloaded the van, opened a fresh bottle of wine…and started talking of the next leg of this incredible journey…Scandinavia.

The weather turned cooler and a more humid but very tolerable…still better than being in the office.