So I’ve copped out a little tonight and have posted a few holiday snaps. These were all taken at our campsite, which was pure heaven. We hadn’t booked to stay anywhere, but set off intrepidly from Cherbourg and the ferry with our tent, our bikes and a lot of accumulated stress to offload. I was almost a French campsite virgin (last time was when I was fifteen which was an awful long time ago) and Mr B hadn’t been for a while. He’d explained to me about municipal campsites in France but to be honest I thought they sounded a bit dodgy. Maybe it’s the word “municipal” – it conjures up images of nasty swimming pools and lots of people order phentermine with a prescription doing things cheaply. But looking at our little guidebook of French campsites, we’d already decided the most important feature our chosen site must have was the little bird symbol. No, not Twitter! Tranquille! It just had to be tranquille.
I take back everything I ever thought about municipal campsites. Ours was absolutely perfect. With pitches for 30 tents or campervans, there were only about 5 taken. We were on the edge of a lake, surrounded by beautiful trees with hedges between each pitch. Not that there was anyone near us. There were massive hydrangeas, a spotlessly clean shower and toilet block, lots of hot water and no mosquitoes at all. Talk about tranquille – the only thing that disturbed me at night time was the hooting of owls.
We watched swallows swooping over the lake, the fish jumping, and I even had the fun of creating my own little natural arrangement around our silver birch tree. We could both feel our cares and worry lines melting away, soothed by the friendliness and politeness of the French people around us. And one of the best things of all was the cost – all in for about 9 Euros a night!