Solo trip to France - Part 2.

Solo trip to France Part 2.

After a good night's sleep, I woke refreshed and made myself a coffee on my little stove. There’s something very magical about camping (even comfortable camping), especially in the early mornings when there are just the background sounds of folk starting to stir; you feel you have the sunrise to yourself and nothing to distract you from being in the moment - such a simple way to be.

I tidied up, unplugged my electric hook up, and roof down, and I was on my way for an 8 am ferry crossing. The weather took a decided turn for the worse with strong winds and quite heavy rain - you know, normal UK August weather! To the point where my ferry was delayed, but we eventually set off about 90 minutes later and arrived in Calais to the same weather I had just left.

I hadn’t booked an overnight stop but knew where I was heading for the night. The great thing about camper vans in France is there is always somewhere to stop for the night - even the service stations have quiet designated areas if all else fails.

After an uneventful day, I arrived at a lovely campsite in the picturesque town of Arcis-sur-Aube with lovely sunshine and an Aldi. I aimed to do 200 miles a day, so another 200 miles would take me to my first stop in Le Cheran at the foot of the French Alps.

Life was good, and I started to relax. I was up early the next morning and, within 30 minutes, on my way. Music blasting, and the sun was shining. I made my way back to the motorway exit and foot down looking forward to the drive.

At around 10 minutes into my journey something didn’t sound quite right with the van so I pulled into a service station had a good check around the van and nothing obvious to see so quickly got back on the road and everything went very wrong very quickly. Loss of engine power, juddering and too many flashing warning signs to count.

Quite scared, I pulled into a rest stop and decided to call the AA, who told me that because French motorways are private, I couldn’t be towed and had to call the police. Long story short, I risked driving to the next exit ( not a good idea) to get off the motorway and then spent most of the day on the phone getting it sorted.

The injectors had gone, and it was a Thursday, and they couldn’t get the parts until Monday, so finally, at 9 pm, I arrived at a hotel where I was holed up until Monday. Exhausted and nerves a bit tattered but still in one piece.

Thanks to Mum getting me some excellent breakdown cover; otherwise, it could have been a lot worse.

The weather was hot. I was about 2 miles away from the City of Troyes, and I spent a fabulous few days exploring and finding out stories about the area that I would have missed if I hadn’t broken down. I can strongly recommend a visit to Troyes - I declined a hire car and walked or used public transport, which was excellent.

I picked up my van at 5 pm the following Monday and, apart from being 2.500 euros lighter, set off again.