Nos Vacances en France

Daddy-powered plastic swimming turtle extravaganza enjoyed by all

This is my first opportunity since re-entering the home/work orbit to update the world on our summer holidays. Tick, Livvy and I went for two eagerly anticipated weeks of relaxation in France during August, with a stop in Lutterworth at Mum's. We began the trip with a flight to Bordeaux, just three days after the security melt-down precipitated by the plot to blow all manner of things up between here and the US. Which all went surprisingly smoothly, with queues actually no worse than normal and delays conspicuous by their absence. Indeed, we were just taxiing up to the runway, just about to turn onto it or our accelleration to lift-off, when I remarked to Ticki how remarkable it had all been and how lucky we should consider ourselves.

Two hours later, when we finally took off for Bordeaux following an interlude in which we had had to stop the aircraft, get all the luggage out of the hold and individually ID each piece in the hunt for what, at the last moment, the control tower had told us was "unidentified, unscreened baggage" on our plane, the rashness of this presumption was all too clear. I particularly liked the way the captain subtly manouvered us to the remotest corner of Birmingham airport during this episode. Nonetheless, good spirits were maintained and we finally arrived at Bordeaux just some three hours late. From there, we picked up our hire car. As in Spain in May, electing to also hire a baby seat had seen us upgraded, unbidden, from "normal car" to "monster truck" category; car companies appear to believe, not unreasonably, that babies come with more luggage than Paris Hilton and Posh Spice on a serious shopping bender.


En famille

Our first week was to be spent in the company of the In-Laws - Hardie, Claudia, Isabella, Calumn and, a day later, Roger and Di. We had hired a Gite in the tiny village of Gaudonville, in the very charming Gers region of France, between Bordeaux and Toulouse. The area retains a slightly undiscovered feel and, due to its very rural composition, an empty and expansive quality. You can drive for miles down the winding country lanes and picturebook Elm-lined boulevards and encounter nothing more hectic, or alien to the region, than the odd farming type driving a battered Citroen van circa 1983 or bicycle of similar vintage.

The house in Gaudonville

The house is a converted stable, which has been done in the typically sympathetic style of many of these properties, with big kitchen, creaky upstairs bedrooms and brightly painted window shutters. For added delight, Muscat vines grew up and along the exterior walls, heavy with plump, sweet grapes, there for the picking of. These complemented the plums, figs, mulberries and apples growing in the adjacent orchard.


We spent a happy week in Gaudonville, exploring local market towns and vintneries, going to the bathing lake and enjoying langurous evening meals in the garden. It was a very relaxing week, which Livvy took to very well, enjoying the attention of the wider family.

France - bigger and wider than it looks

View from our balcony down the grounds and to the Med.

Following our week in Gaudonville, Tick, Livvy and I packed our belongings into the ÜberVan and headed off for the Cote d'Azur, to visit family friends Jean-Marie and Catherine at their lovely house on the coast between Marseilles and Toulon. Overlooking the Mediterranean and shrouded in Olive groves, Rosemary bushes and Peach trees, the house was completely different to that in my memories from our last visit there, some 15 years ago. Just goes to show - teenagers really don't pay attention to anything.

The highlight (apart from the amazing hospitality of our hosts) was the pool lower down the hillside from the house terrace, which was one of those horizon affairs that make you look like you're swimming off into the middle-distance and/or walking on water. Highly entertaining - to say nothing of refreshing on those hot, dusty Provencal evenings. Livvy, as you can see from the headline picture above, was very taken with it.

Getting to Bandol was quite an experience - turns out that France is quite a bit bigger than maps would have you believe. On and on we drove, endless miles of increasingly dry and sunny landscape rolling by - down through the lush vineyards of the Languedoc region, past the ancient battlements of Carcassonne, along the winding autoroute of the Provencal coast ... it went on for ever. Even Livvy, a heroically contented little traveller, got more than a little cheesed off with it by the time we finally passed Marseilles and could consider ourselves on the home stretch.

Still, all was well once we arrived, on the evening of my 33rd Birthday no less, and sat on the terrace having a lovely supper and a glass of the Domaine Rosé as the sun set on the purple sea.

Domaine Tempier

Did I say Domaine? Yes indeedy - Catherine and Jean-Marie own a vineyard, the Domaine Tempier, located on the slopes of the inland hills that rise to the ancient clifftop village of Les Castelet. Naturally, we needed to investigate - again, my last visit was so long ago that I had let the opportunity pass on that occasion.

Jean Marie was kind enough to give us the guided tour on this occasion, which Livvy enjoyed from the vantage point of her papouse, whilst Tick did some of the translating - Jean-Marie speaks no English and whilst I can understand a fair bit of French, the finer details of viniculture are not part of that bit. The tour, as all good tours of a vinyard should, ended in the Cave, with a drop of the product in a tasting glass. As you can see, the Clark fondness for all things grapey is developed from birth.


We spent an enjoyable hour amongst the vines of the vignoble, with Jean-Marie providing the expert and passionate commentary - the only problem is that Domain Tempier wines are not your average supermarket shelf plonk, so that taste I got in the picture above may be the last for a while!

All things winey, courtesy of our very own tour guide

Suitably refreshed, we were able to enjoy the rest of our holiday - including trips to St Tropez, up to Aix-en-Provence to see Suzannah and around the lovely countryside of the Provence. Each day was punctuated by Catherine's sublime meals, which quickly became a firm highlight - fresh fish, olive bread, tomato salad, peaches and ice cream ... it was Hell, I tell you!