Gerty's Getaway - London to Croatia in a VW Campervan

Lake Salagou, France

Our paths crossed last week thanks to the lift sharing website blablacar.com. His name was Trey and he came from Tennessee. The first evening we met he stayed on the sofa in my flat and the next day we drove 600 miles to Lyon. I was travelling to meet friends at Worldwide Festival in Sete and fancied some company and assistance with the fuel cost. Along came Trey, travelling to Le Puget near Sete to spend a month restoring a cathedral.

Thrown together
He was a likeable guy and a good map reader. He told stories of rock climbing and bow hunting back home. We passed the long hours on French toll roads chatting about this and that. I drank Red Bull, Trey drank 'road sodas', his phrase for beer. I learned he was a devout Christian -

"It's all in God's plan, man."

I have no problem with people's faith and Trey's had helped him turn his life around from a hedonistic existence in LA to self improvement, study and travel. In his words,

"My life gets better everyday."

He believed that the bible was the word of God and hinted at Intelligent Design as the origins of man. So as not rile the stocky rock climbing hunter, and make our 2 day journey an unpleasant one, I didn't push him on the facts of evolution.

The kindness of strangers
We left London at 6am on Thursday 4 July. After eleven hours of driving we were close to Lyon and needed a place to stay. We came off the motorway and headed into the hills. I had only 4 hours sleep the night before, and as we wound our way upwards, away from the lazy Rhone, looking for signs to campsites and asking locals for directions, I was reaching the point of exhaustion. I eyed farmers' fields greedily, imagining the sweet release of being horizontal. Things were tense in the cab as wrong turns took us down dirt tracks with no sign of a decent night stop. Driving down a dead end near a farm house we stopped an old couple strolling by the road. I asked, in my schoolboy French, if they knew a campsite nearby. They chatted together for a while. I heard the phrase 'chez nous' and my heart leapt.

We camped on Pierre and Annie's lawn garden, they cooked us eggs from their hens for dinner and shared a bottle of excellent red wine. The next morning we feasted on heart-stopping almond croissants freshly bought from the bakery, learnt about their lumberjack son, their trip to London in 1990 and took a cheesy photo by their tractor. They may have been a retired couple for who this encounter was a welcome diversion but I was truly humbled by their kindness. As Trey stood on the grass gazing at the hills with a look of awe on his face, I wondered what was next in God's plan.

Worldwide Festival
On Friday 5 July, 800 hundred miles after leaving London, I arrived in Sete. I met my friends and we spent the next 3 days dancing to eclectic beats under the hot Mediterranean sun and the slightly cooler stars. Curated by Giles Peterson, Worldwide brings together acts from the around the globe. From Brazilian baile funk, to drum and bass, hip hop and Mongolian yak yodeling, there is something for everyone.

My highlights include:
Music - Keny Dope, Ben UFO, Jets, Giles Peterson´s closing set.

Other stuff - eating octopus pie, hearing Giles announce Murray´s Wimbledon victory while dancing on the beach, drinking more rose than I have drunk in the rest of my life, mixing that rose with Relentless energy drink for a turbo pick me up, getting kicked off our campsite after two hours sleep and having a fight with the security guard.

I love festivals.

The kindness of strangers part 2
On Monday, after a weekend of unadulterated fun, Richard (my road trip co-driver) and I set off to meet his friends in the small medieval town of Lagrasse. We bathed in the delightful waters of the river Orb and slumbered under pine trees on its banks. Beneath the 13th century stone arches of Mark and Carlos' house, we ate mussels, quiche and the sweetest melon. Although poisoned from the previous days' intake, we drank more rose. It was much nicer than the plonk we had bought for 2 euros a litre in Sete. Despite extreme tiredness we managed to force out conversation with our kind hosts until past midnight. That night we slept in clean, soft beds, with the shutters closed, and woke the next afternoon at 1pm. We planned the next stage of our journey, booked tickets for Soundwave festival in Croatia and said our goodbyes. The aim is to make it a boat party on the Adriatic on 21 July before hot footing it back to Blighty.

The first misfortune
I am writing this from a hotel in Montpellier. We are meant to be several hundred kilometres further East. Gerty (the van) is in a garage up the road. Tomorrow the mechanics will look at her cracked rim and attempt to fix it. We are going nowhere for the time being.

On Tuesday night we camped at Lac du Salagou and dined like kings on our first barbecue of the trip. After our feast we swam in the lake under the stars, listening to the sound of frogs. In the campsite bar, a band played the hit parade, James Brown to Fleetwood Mac, fronted by a powerfully-voiced lady in a wheelchair.

Yesterday morning we discovered the crack. I have no idea how a rim could fail so completely with no big impact but I am mighty glad it didn't happen on the motorway.

Today I hope we will be on the road again, heading to Lac de Castillon in the Verdon national park. Right now it is time to leave the confines of our identikit box hotel room and go and harass some mechanics....