(For the most recent update, please see page 2)
On arrival at Equine Travel Agency, the company taking us from, Dover to Calais, Bertie was taken to a field and in the evening given a well deserved meal. We sailed to Calais on the 24th April, and with one last look at England we crossed the Channel and Bertie and I were dropped off just outside Calais at a yard where we could sort ourselves out. My thanks to ETA for all their hard work, they really are brilliant and experts in their field.
Me and Tim from ETA saying goodbye to England
Our first afternoon in France entailed me testing out a new system for the saddlebags, which in turn meant I was carrying one. We walked alongside Canals and found a field to stay in. The owner fenced off a bit for me and whisked me off to his friend’s barbeque. The following morning, I was awoken to fresh pastries and the offer of a hot shower, and upon emerging from the latt er was confronted with a journalist who took our photo and conducted an interview. My host, Damiyan, then leant me a bike and we went to his friend’s horse yard to look at the foals, followed by a long lunch and later on he cycled alongside Bertie and I by another canal. A farewell beer was had and Bertie and I continued our ramblings for another few hours, and ended up staying at a farm full of Shetland ponies! The farmer and his family spoke very little English, and much Google translation was required, but we got by with lots of laughter and I was made to feel very welcome. Currently, I am in a house with an English lady, and it is nice to be able to speak without mime! Bertie is in a field with a Shetland again, he will soon turn in to one I think…
Old Mill in Northern France
So far France has been lovely, we have had gorgeous weather and the people have been fabulous - even the check out girls, who were bemused when I tied Bertie up outside their supermarket!
The only problem we have encountered is map reading. I refuse to admit it is my navigation skills at fault, as I asked several local people where our path was and not one of them could tell me. I then asked some very serious hikers with all the latest gear, who, even with the use of GPS and some marvellous video map, could not pin point our location. My host for this evening has advised me that these routes are very poorly signed, so tomorrow I think we shall just be heading East and see where it leads…after all, we have no time limit!
To put it in to figures:
No. of nights in tent: 3
No. of English people: 3
No. of cowboys: 1
No. of people dressed for carnival: 2
No: of delicious meals: All of them
No. of VERY random encounters: Too many to mention!
No. of Euros spent: 12
All in all, so far it has been a magical experience! Bertie and I have stayed in a garden by a canal, and once Bertie was settled I was whisked off to a barbeque. The following day, I was leant a bicycle and my host took me to a stud farm to see the foals. Later that same day I rode a few miles alongside a canal whilst my host cycled, and that evening spent the night at a farm which bred Shetland ponies, the foals of which are tiny! There was even a miniature Bertie!
Our carnival hosts!
We have also gatecrashed a barbeque hosted by a cowboy, spent the night with a carnival King and Queen, stayed in a village with 27 bars(!) and are now resting with an English family for a couple of days.
Bertie discovers the local meals on wheels…
Not many people in Northern France speak English, but my French is improving daily, to the point where I can chat away to people about the ride and hold a basic conversation. Everyone is so helpful here - I asked a question about a route to someone, who led me to a farm, called up a friend and bought me a translator; a farmer drove his tractor for miles to show us the way; food has been thrown at us, beds offered and showers given; even a journalist was produced one morning to conduct an interview for the local press!
The supposedly flat French countryside
Le Chateau de Bomy
Every French home seems to have at least 1 vicious dog and a family of garden gnomes, very bizarre…
An example of interesting garden furniture…
Our aim for this week was Arras, but between elongated lunches and getting lost (due to poor signage - even the French have advised us to steer clear of the Grande Randonees), we have managed to get not-very-far, but hey, we have 4 years plus…
For now, its time for a glass of wine and sitting in the garden watching Bertie enjoy the grass…who needs a 9 to 5?!!!
3rd May ‘09
Bertie and I have stopped for a rest…well, Bertie has anyway. I have been spending my days hacking through a bamboo forest, helping Nikki and family, who are putting Bertie and I up, to rid their garden of a jungle. I think you’ll agree that so far a good job has been done; pulling out bamboo from it’s roots is a TOUGH job! At least I am earning our keep…
Before..
After! And there is still more to go…
16th May 09…
Oh what a week! Have been in Paris for a little cultural diversion, but it has been more than I bargained for! The start of the trip began with being held up at gun point and being terrified for the rest of the night; thankfully, the rest of the time the only dangerous event is being chased by geese and yet again stalked by hedgehogs! More news to follow soon…
25th May 2009
Bertie and I have started back on the road again, and were joined for a couple of days by a friend I met in China! The weather has been incredibly hot and sunny, and Bertie and I have had many adventures, most notably, I hitchhiked to Paris and was held up at gun point (in Paris - not whilst hitching!) Bertie didn’t accompany me there, but had a few days off whilst I had a cultural diversion. On my first evening, a car full of boys pulled up, held out a gun, and the the words ‘6 bullets’ was shouted at me. The car then drove alongside me for quite some time with the gun aimed, then drove off. As it reached the end of the road, I breathed a sigh of relief; then the car screeched around and they started driving back! Thankfully, they did not shoot, although it was a terrifying experience! The rest of my stay in Paris was lovely, however, and I viewed many of the sights and met some great people.
Bertie and I are now back on the road, and were joined for a couple of days by a friend I met in China. The past couple of days have been glorious weather, and yesterday it was almost too hot! Last night we arrived at a small village in the middle of a fete, and Bertie has been staying at a pig farm. Most horses hate pigs - it is an inbuilt instinct dating back to the time when pigs were predatory of horses - but dear old Bertie took one look at them and began to eat - sensible pony!
We are now on the hunt for a pilgrim route which I have heard goes through the area we are in, however it appears that it is not well sign posted and it is not marked on any of my maps, so it could be interesting. Currently, we are sticking mostly to small country lanes and villages, with the occassional farm track thrown in for good measure.
9th June 2009
Haven’t been able to access a computer to update the website in such a long time! So, a quick run down of the past few weeks…
After staying at the pig farm, Bertie and I set off in constant drizzle, which teased us throughout the day by fading and being replaced by excessive heat - I later heard rumour that the scale peaked 33 degrees! We baked, boiled and sweated; we took it easy and stopped at a small village for the night, Bertie at a livery yard where he got 5 star treatment and disappeared in to a field with grass so tall, he too disappeared! The yard was owned by a chap who is a trotting champion - in France, trotting races are the equivalent of the British flat race or steeplechasing. Trotting is a very popular sport, and comprises a French Trotter - the breed of horse specialised for this form of racing - a small, 2 wheeled cart - and a driver. The rules are simple - you have to drive your horse and win the race, but ONLY at a trot - as the name may suggest. Throughout our time in France Bertie and I have encountered many retired trotter horses having a new lease of life after racing, but never actual horses in training. It was great to see them set off for a practice ‘trot’.
While Bertie enjoyed his field, I was taken in to the owners apartment in a nearby town, and likewise received 5 star treatment - shower, washing, Tango, beer, dinner, shopping, bed - the latter being the most important, as that night, the heat exploded in to a violent storm - there were no lightening flashes, as there was no time between strikes for there to be flashes - the sky was constantly lit by a bright yellow glow, accompanied by shouts of thunder and hard hitting rain. I was so thankful I wasn’t in the tent. Trees came down and several villages were left without electricity.
Once the storm passed everything calmed down, and Bertie and I continued our ride. In the light drizzle of the day, a journalist stopped us to ask questions and take some pictures, which were publised a week later in the local paper. We entered the Somme - famous for the Battles of World War 1. The countryside here is littered with Military Cemetries, a sad reminder of the past. Bertie and I visited as many as we could en route, but there are so many more, they became as regular a sight as road signs. it was very depressing. Still, at least the soldiers are remembered; and not just French and British, but Canadian, Australian, and even German.
Bertie and I stayed at a farm where I was generously given the run of the farm house, as the farmer did not live on site. however, I ended up sleeping in the tent as Bertie had to be tethered. I went to make some food, and when I came back he had vanished - he had managed to snap his rope and I found him a little further on enjoying some poor farmers crop. The grass is always greener! I opted for camping to keep a vigil eye on my cheeky pony.
We didn’t get very far the next few days - 3km, to be precise. This was purely by accident, but very welcome. Once we crossed in to the Somme, a man had pulled up to ask where we were heading. I told him we were aiming for the next village, where we would stop. he nodded and drove on. The following day, as we set off, a woman pulled her car over and stopped to talk. Joan, from America, was interested in our ride, and as we were chatting the same man from the previous day appeared again. he wanted Bertie and I to stay at his - which is what he’d wanted to ask before, but hadn’t when he found out we were going to his neighbouring village and thought we had a place to sleep. I greatfully accepted his offer, and Bertie and I criss crossed our way through maize fields to get to his farm. Monsiuer Henne and his wife Beatrice couldn’t have welcomed me more if they had tried. Beatrice took me under her wing and took me around the local area. We went to Cambrai, saw the sights of Peronne, did a historical tour, dipped our toes in the source of the Somme and visited a canal built by Napoleon, with a 5km tunnel which was later used by the Germans as a hospital in the war. Beatrice also cooked me local delicacies - we had Marouel tart - Marouel being the cheese famed throughout the region. It absolutley stinks! But tastes delicious - you just have to get over the smell first. It is more well known for its distinct smell than anything else! I also had Moules Frites - mussels and home made chips; a fresh rhubarb tart courtesy of Joan and her garden; some delicious home grown salads, prawns and marmalade made from Mangos grown in the garden of the Hennes daughter in Africa. During my stay there, I discovered to my horror I have put on 5lbs since being in France. I am fed so well! On my first day in France I was advised to eat as much as I could, when offered, as I didn’t know where my next meal would be coming from - true words - however, I have been exceptionally lucky and had amazing meals most nights we have stopped, hence the weight gain. Whoops…
The day came for Bertie and I to leave the Henne’s, and they invited a journalist from the local paper to hold an interview with me. When she arrived, she spoke in English - she is from Ascot! It was interesting to see her write - when speaking (in English) to me, her ntoes were in English; however, when Beatrice told her something, the notes would flick in to French. The 2 languages, combined with shorthand, made for a confusing looking piece, however it must have unjumbled itself somewhere along the line as the article was printed the following Sunday.
Since leaving the Henne’s, we have had GLORIOUS weather - 20-25 degrees a day, and walking/riding 25-30km a day. We covered 130km in 5 days, and are now having a well deserved rest. Bertie is sharing a field with 4 other ponies and a huge Ardenne’s mare - a horse local to the region, used as a draught animal; and I am relaxing by an old mill watching the world go by. This is the life!
June 09
Bertie and I have been plodding away, continuing to enjoy the French countryside. We stopped at a place called Fagnon, which had the first open Tabac I have come across in all of rural France! To celebrate I had a beer with the owner - just look at that weird glass!
Bertie also did his best impression of “The Fresh Prince…”
The weather has mostly been glorious, but the other day we got caught out in a thunderstorm which absolutely drenched us! We stopped to shelter by a Church, shivering, as I wondered where I could dry off and get changed. We must have made a really pitiful sight, as a farmer drove by and offered us shelter, hot chocolate and a place to change! After drying off and warming up, the sun came out. I had lost one of Bertie’s hoofboots and he needed a replacement, but I have not been able to source one. As luck would have it, the farmer was a farrier, and now Bertie has a set of shoes to go along in until I can get the replacement. We continued on our way and that afternoon saw Wuinic, the artistic pig of the North - a 50 tonne, larger than life (the world’s largest, to be precise), giant revolving pig which dominates the A34 motorway. Interesting…
“Wuinic” from afar… …And up close and personal!
At the moment we are staying in a small village just outside Reims. I have explored Reims and arrived just in time for a music festival - on every street corner there were musicians, of all different genres, gathering dancing crowds - it was great!
Reims Cathedral
The inside of the Cathedral - old and new mingling together
I also found a very useful sign:
Followed by the new found knowledge that I had already arrived at my destination:
I also learned that:
Champagne + Fruits de la Mer = Hospital! 
I live and learn. Anyway, how could I NOT drink champagne? Reims is, after all, the heart of the chapagne land, boasting several factories.
After my Reims visit, I was whisked off to “la fete de cerries”, or fete of the cherries, where, ironically, there was not a cherry in sight! I did, however come across this man with his 8 tonne (?!) rabbit!
Now, Bertie and I are preparing to get back on the road and make our way South East, to the German border, where I am tossing a coin as to which way we should go - but as long as it’s East it doesn’t really matter. We have enjoyed getting lost in France, but I think now it is time for us to explore a new country!
Don’t forget to look at the gallery, where pictures of France and various other things are now available for viewing.
For the most recent update, please see page 2…
