Four Wheels in France: Family, Fun and Frolics

Over the past few years, we’ve had a great time holidaying in Scotland and Wales in a fantastic Bailey motorhome. Given that the borders have (thankfully!) opened and travel options are more spacious, what better than to repeat the motorhome experience, but this time across the channel in France?

Our wonderful home from home was the Bailey Adamo 75-4I. A luxurious motorhome which comfortably sleeps four; and given we are a family of three, it was the perfect size for us and the other members of the family – aka the bikes and the BBQ (which had their very own room in the supremely useful rear garage).

We decided to pack the van the night before. I’d love to say that Esme helped, but, in reality, she spent most of the time trampolining on the double bed and finding a place for her sizeable collection of toys/games/books. After a slightly crazy day at work (why is it that the last day before you go on holiday is always a hundred times more bonkers than you predict it will be?!), we set off for Portsmouth in the late afternoon, arriving at Dibles Park campsite in time to see the sunset.

The Portsmouth to Caen ferry journey blew Esme’s mind: a boat with a cinema, a kids’ area and three decked-maze to get totally lost in! We disembarked 6.5 hours later and began the journey southeast, with the Alps as the destination and short stops planned in the Loire Valley and Burgundy. As we needed dinner, we fully adopted the French way of life with cheese, ham, a metre-long baguette, plus a pastry. Starting as we meant to go on! With a few “I need a wee”, “I need a poo”, “I need another wee” stops, we arrived at the Grand Tortue campsite at dusk. As we wanted to embrace continental time, Esme spent the next two hours exploring the children’s adventure playground, while Tom and I indulged in our first of many glasses of the local vino.

We breakfasted on croissants (plural), jam and coffee and spent the first full day of the holiday in the campsite swimming pool, interspersed with a run along the river path. The Adamo has a full kitchen, with a massive fridge (and I mean vacuous!), plus an oven, grill, gas and electric hob. With the addition of the BBQ and a bottle of gin, we had everything we could need to whip up a delicious feast.

The next day I cycled along the Loire, mainly taking the near-perfect cycle path that contours the wide river, past the gothic and renaissance buildings in Blois, with the Royal Chateau dominating the skyline. Tom and Esme scooped me up in the town of Mer, and we then headed east and south through Burgundy, characterised by rolling green fields, vineyards, and fields of drying sunflowers and towering sweetcorn.

In the late afternoon, we reached the wonderful Castel Camping Château de l’Epervière, nestled between Chalon-sur-Saône and Tournus. It was a lovely rural site, dominated by the beautiful chateau, with lakes, indoor and outdoor pools, a restaurant, shop and bar. We camped and BBQ’d by one of the lakes and were lucky enough to see one of the resident Coypus (also known as a Nutria) – a cross between a beaver, a large rat and a supersized, overweight guinea pig.

The morning was spent running along the Saone, watching buzzards soar and herons soak their legs near the water’s edge. While Tom ran, Esme and I went on a bike ride along the same stretch of river. Our friends Vic and Mike, and their two children were travelling home from the Alps, and we spent a fun couple of hours at the campsite before leaving to head south towards the adventure, alpine playground that is Chamonix.

We watched the landscape change from rolling hills to the forested mountains of the Jura to the majestic Alps, as we hugged Geneva and drive the final hour to Chamonix. I’m often asked how Esme occupies herself on long drives without a sibling to play/fight with. The answer is simple. She listens obsessively to 4-5 hour long audiobooks (the BFG, Matilda, the Worst Witch series), and generally makes the area around her seat look like an absolute bomb site by colouring, eating/spilling food and tearing up bits of paper to make confetti.

Taking the toll roads from north to south was much more expensive, and arguably less scenic and culturally immersive than taking the smaller roads, but was much quicker and, given we only had 22 days our priority was getting to the high mountains – our happy place. And happy we were when we arrived at the basic, but wonderful Camping Des Ecureuils, located at the foot of the Glacier des Bossons and the Mont Blanc Massif. The site is in Les Bossons, only 8 minutes by train or bus (which is, rather wonderfully, free to guests staying in the Chamonix Valley) to the centre of Chamonix – which was absolutely ideal for us, as it meant we could pitch up and head straight into town for dinner.

We had not realised that the week we were there coincided with, what is arguable, the largest race in the global trail running calendar, the UTMB– or the Ultra Trail du Mt Blanc. Neither had we realised the size and scale of the event, which isn’t just one race, but many spread over five days. Yes, it was busy with athletes, their families and friends, the media, sponsors and more. But it didn’t feel overwhelming, and for us created an energised, dynamic and uplifting atmosphere which was great to be part of, and for Esme to witness.

Inspired, the next day – under crystal clear blue skies – I headed for the hills to the west of the campsite, not quite taking in the distances or heights of the UTMB (which climbs 10,000m over 106 miles) but enough to make my lungs burst, my quads burn, and my heart soar. Armed with the ubiquitous cheese and ham baguette and a pain au chocolat we then headed to Chamonix, and took the gondola to Plan Praz at 2000m. From there we hiked 3 hours to Flegere, with mind-blowing views over the Mont Blanc Massif and Mont Blanc itself, with Chamonix like a little toy town far below.

We definitely don’t expect Esme to share all our loves and passions but, that said, it is so wonderful to see her embrace, appreciate and love the mountains as much as we do. Or at least she relished the thought of ice cream when we were back in Chamonix!

The following days were spent, running (me), cycling (Tom) and running and climbing (Esme). We had given the option of paragliding (who knew you could do that aged 6?!) or rock climbing, and she chose the latter, keeping paragliding in her pocket for another time. We squealed as we rocketed down the luge at the Domaine Des Planards park,  took the Aiguille Du Midi cable car up to 4000m and savoured the phenomenal 360degree views over the mountainous confluence of France, Italy and Switzerland and sipped cocktails and devoured burgers at the wonderful (not enough superlatives, this restaurant is fantastic!) Big Horn Bistro. We did a fab hike to the Argentiere glacier, which glowed blue under clear skies – a stunning yet sobering sight as, despite the majesty, the retreat of this natural wonder was clear for all to see. Every evening we collectively fell soundly asleep in the Adamo, parked in the shadows of the mountains, the stars bright.

Our penultimate day marked the start of the 106mile UTMB, a mind-blowing occasion with crowds 4-5 deep, and more in places. The music, the cheering, the cow bells. It was a cacophony, and so wonderful to be part of. It was the perfect send-off, although we were sad not to be staying to watch the first finishers cross the line (a mind-boggling) 20 hours later.

From Chamonix, we headed south to Annecy. Our campsite for the next three nights was the Camping La Nubliere – not exactly basic and low key, but for us, the draw was the 200m walk to the lake shore. Mountain-ringed Lake Annecy is France’s third largest lake and is said to be Europe’s cleanest – formed 18,000 years ago when the large alpine glaciers melted. Today the crystal-clear waters are a haven for birdlife, as well as watersports of all kinds – paddleboarding, sailing, windsurfing, swimming and kayaking. Like Chamonix, the sky was peppered with colour as paragliders took advantage of the wonderful weather and stunning backdrop to fling themselves off the mountain.

We met with Tom’s cousin Heather and her family, spending the afternoon in the water, on the paddle board and eating and drinking long after the sun had gone down.

The next few days were spent in a whirlwind of runs (me – up Col De Forclaz), bike rides and swims, croissants, pain au chocolates and a leisurely afternoon exploring Annecy or, as Esme called it, “Little Venice on account of the canals that dissect the town. Here she delighted in choosing – amongst the range of 20 non-neon options – a bright blue ice cream the size of her head.

From Annecy, we began our journey north, up past Geneva, the Jura mountains and into Burgundy. In the Core D’Or, we came off the toll roads, to snake through gloriously rural, small sleepy French villages with their shuttered, stone houses, grape-laden vineyards and the still waters of the Burgundy Canal arriving at theLac de Panthier campsite in Vandenesse-en-Auxois, on the shores of a small lake and in the shadows of the Chateau du Chateauneuf. It was fantastic to have the chance to meet up with yet more friends who were travelling south – Cat and Rich – who live in Scotland and who had a cameo appearance in my blog about our 2021 Bailey motorhome adventure.  After a morning run and an hour spent exploring the beautiful, quaint village surrounding the medieval Chateauneuf fortress, we parted ways and headed to the east of Paris to meet another close friend – Gabriel and her family. I first met Gabriel when I taught swimming in Boston, USA, in 1996 and 1997, and we have been firm friends ever since.

The last few days of the holiday were upon us, but we saved the best for last – at least in Esme’s eyes. No, not another croissant, but a surprise trip to Disneyland! With the French children have gone back to school the park was surprisingly (everything is relative of course!) quiet, and we spent an amazing 12 hours maxing out on everything that it had to offer – the rides, a Lion King show, the parades, the food. Yes, it’s an expensive day out, and yes, it’s contrived – but we absolutely loved it, and we made some magical memories that we will never forget.

Exhausted but happy, we drove 20 minutes to Camping International de Jablines campsite, set within 500 lake- and tree-filled acres. After a ‘go slow’ morning, we left for the final leg of the journey (or so we thought!) to Caen; pitching at a lovely, quiet basic campsite outside the beachside village of Luc Sur Mer. Had we had more time it would have been the perfect place to explore the D-Day beaches along the Normandy coast, where the Allied invasion of Normandy took place during World War II, which marked the start of the liberation of northwest Europe.

For us, the reason for staying was more practical: the ferry terminal was a short drive away. All perfectly planned, or so we thought. At 19.30, we received a surprise message from Brittany Ferries saying that our departure the next morning had been changed from Caen to Cherbourg. This meant a 5 am alarm and a 90-minute drive under starry skies to make sure we caught our boat home.

It was bittersweet to be back, but, isn’t that always the case with the best of holidays? We parked the Adamo in the drive – buoyed with amazing memories, full to the brim with croissants and with cheese and ham baguettes, and looking forward to the next road trip in, what we always see as, our home away from home.