FRIDAY, 25th August 2006 – Vincelles to Epernay

Why I have no passion for France Passions

Today, the showers scored their worst ever score – only 2 from Annie, mainly because the showerhead wasn’t on its socket, and she had to stand on tippy-toe to put it back, and then it turned inwards to the wall. So 2 is probably quite generous, really. Only a 5 from me, because although mine was on the wall, there was no divider twixt shower (i.e. water) and clothes (i.e. should stay dry). Come on, guys, it’s not rocket science.

Away early, at around 8.30, heading for a France Passion at a vineyard close to Epernay. All went according to plan, except Catherine had a bit of a flip out at one point, taking us off a main road onto a roundabout, telling us to take the first turning, then telling us we’d gone wrong, then telling us to take the second turning, which brought us back to the main road again. Poor girl, she’s obviously suffering. Then, later on, she passed out completely, and fell off the windscreen. After that, Annie sat with her on her lap, which was a bit spooky, since Annie was speaking with Catherine’s voice. A nasty psychological thriller here, I think. And I couldn’t see the maps on the screen, which was a bit unnerving. Annie relented after a while, and stuck her back on the windscreen. Status quo was restored.

We got to the village where the Passion was. The directions in the book said something like – go to the village, and there you are. We went to the village, we passed through on one side, we passed through on a different side, no signs of the vineyard we were looking for. We stopped at the Mairie. It was shut. And it was only 11.30, too. Fortunately, a man stopped (why do people not like the French – they are a lovely people), and asked if he could help. We told him the vineyard we were looking for, he told us where it was, and we started off again. On to the main road, and there was our new mate, waiting for us, waving his arm in the air for us to follow him. We did, we turned right, and there the place was. I waved our thanks.

It didn’t look good. There were no vineyards, there was little sign of any camping place, and it all looked a bit quiet. We rang the bell of the door to the vineyard. Cruella De Ville came to the door. “France Passion?” asked I. “Oui,” said Cruella. And just stood there. Now this is a thing with the France Passion places – all three of them we’ve called into. You say the secret code word (France Passion), and they say: “Oui”, and then they just stand there. So you have to ask, in clumsy non-schoolboy French: “Where the hell do I stick three and a half ton of camping-car then?” Because they don’t tell you, unless you ask.

Anyway, Cruella indicated that we could put it on the postage-stamp sized piece of grass opposite, but we might have difficulty getting off again if it rains, so we should put it on the concrete. The concrete, which is outside their big barn, where their farming equipment was, with no sign of the water, toilet, rubbish facility, tree, nor any hint of the English-French-German-Dutch speaking that it said in the book. Now I have a theory. You’re a farmer / winemaker, and France Passion come and ask if you would like to be a member. “Do you have somewhere a camping-car can park?” they ask. If so, you get a questionnaire – a sort of tick box questionnaire, so you can list all the facilities you have available. So I reckon Cruella ticked all the boxes without even reading them, thinking she might get more money if she had more boxes ticked. She wasn’t welcoming, there were no signs, at all, anywhere, that it was a France Passion location. So we buggered off.

We thought we’d try again. A lot of narrow, bouncing, bumpety-bump-wobble roads later (and I mean a lot – I do worry about the bike rack hanging off the back with all this rocking and rolling going on), and we arrived at the village. That was it – “it’s in the village”, the book says. We asked at what equates to a burger van over in France, and they told us where the vineyard was. And we found it. 1) It was shut (it now being 12.30 and all) 2) there was nowhere to park, unless they meant the patch of ground behind the chemist’s shop and 3) it wasn’t really what we were looking for. By now, we were a bit tired, we were hot, thirsty, hungry, etc etc. We headed for a campsite.

We got to the Camp Municipale in Epernay at around 1.30. The reception was open, and we booked in without a hitch. By quarter to two, we had the kettle on, and the van settled.

After lunch, we asked at the reception about cycle routes. The receptionist was very kind, and gave us a map, and showed us a route through the town and towards some distant pretty village. We cycled to town, along the river for a bit, but it didn’t match the quality of path we used yesterday. This was a bit muddy, a bit close to the water, and a bit “you can’t go down here because … well, it’s closed”-ish. We looked at the map, and Annie saw the ‘Avenue de Champagne’, with boxes showing Moet et Chandon, Perrier Jouet, and Pol Roger, so we headed that way. First one we came to was Moet et Chandon, so we padlocked our bikes to their railings, and followed the signs to “Visite de Caves”.

A very posh-looking lady took our €8 (each) for the tour and one glass tasting. We did the tour, although the posh booklet told us more about champagne making than the tour guide did. But it was a good tour, and a nice glass of wine to finish (although I prefer Tesco own-label Cava), and we declined the offer of buying lots of Moet at the ‘boutique’, and we went to a nearby Carrefour to buy some Mercier champagne and some cheap local muck that was about a quarter of the price (with a free quarter-bottle thrown in), just so we could compare.

On the camp site sat Thierry, who provided the campsite with high-quality, local produce, beautifully prepared and cooked from his rusty van in the corner of the campsite. He did also provide champagne, so we had a bottle of some local stuff (at his price of €19), and a lovely three-cheese pizza. The champers was lovely and chilled, and so was the pizza until Annie discovered the three cheese and olive pizza also included, at no extra cost, some ham. In fact, lots of diced chunks of ham. Annie had to pick out the ham, and eat the rest, which was difficult, and somewhat spoilt the meal out.