When friends asked how we were planning to spend our summer holiday last year, I could tell them two details with confidence: the date of our ferry to France, and our return journey to the U.K. Other than that, we had nothing planned.
Some thought this was a crazy way to travel with two young children. But I wasn’t worried, as we were driving in our trusty campervan, so I knew we would always have a roof over our heads. Plus, I’d read enough about camping in France to feel confident that we’d be able to find places to stay along the way.
In fact, I was really looking forward to it, as travelling without an itinerary was something I’d been craving since the carefree days of my student gap year.
Immediately after university, I headed off on a five-month trip around South and Central America, followed by five months in Asia. On both trips, I’d set off with few plans, other than a well-thumbed Lonely Planet and the naiveté of youth, believing everything would work out. And it did, with my flexible schedule allowing me to change plans on a whim.
This total freedom is a feeling I’ve spent much of my adult life chasing. The temptation caused me to quit my job at age 29 to take a “grown-up gap year.” I spent 10 months on a round-the-world trip.
Since then, I’ve gotten married and had two children, now aged four and seven. While we still travelled, taking road trips through Albania, Spain and Germany, it all had to be planned in advance.
However, during the COVID-19 lockdown, we bought a campervan and everything changed. While I knew it would open up our world, allowing us to see family and friends we had been cut off from for months, I had no idea it would also give me the freedom I’d been craving.
So, with our home on wheels packed for 17 days of adventure, our holiday began with a ferry crossing from Dover, England, to Calais, France. We had loose plans to travel to Geneva to visit friends, so on our first day we began driving in the direction of the Swiss border, looking up campsites on our mobile phones as dinner time drew near.
France is well set up for campervan travellers; options range from low-cost, council-run aires, which offer basic facilities, to fancy resorts, complete with swimming pools and bars.
On the first night, we stayed in Laon, once the country’s medieval capital. Within half an hour of inquiring about availability, we were parked up and ensconced in the onsite restaurant. As we tucked into juicy steaks and piping hot frites, we congratulated ourselves on the easiest start to a trip.
The writer enjoying the view in Dienville, in north-central France.
Each evening, we would look at the map and plan the next day’s route. While driving through the Swiss Alps, looking down at the ribbons of roads wrapping themselves around the towering slopes, I caught myself beaming in the wing mirror. This trip’s spontaneity gave me what I felt other holidays had been lacking.
Even when things didn’t go according to plan — we almost came unstuck in the alpine town of Annecy, France, struggling to find a pitch at the busiest time of year — I didn’t panic. The beauty of a campervan is that you can keep driving to the next site.
Days later in Dienville, in the Champagne-Ardenne region, we hired bikes and spent the day cycling beneath the canopy of oaks in the Orient Forest. Later, watching the sunset over Lac Amance and paddling in the cool water, my daughter begged, “Can’t we stay here longer?” and the answer was yes, we could.
In total, we travelled 2,100 kilometres, staying at eight campsites in France and Switzerland. We’re currently planning a similar road trip. Well, “planning” — we just need to decide which country to travel, and we’ll figure the rest out along the way.
发表回复