Force / Resistance = Freedom

It has been 48 hours since anything was last posted on the blog, not because we have nothing to report, in fact quite the opposite, but mainly because our night time parking spot was devoid of any internet signal and also because last night we were tucked up in bed by 20:30 to escape the cold.

We have moved into the Ain region, specifically the Haut-Bugey area, a mountainous area in the East of France that is so close to the Switzerland border I am sure there is a hint of chocolate in the air.   We know very little about the area and are having to pretty much learn on the hoof, the one thing that is immediately evident is the lack of recognised motorhome aires.  Tonight for example we are sitting in a stunning location, but it is on the car park of an Auberge who charge €6:00 for the privilege.  We are parked right next to Lake Genin at a height of 836 metres, dizzy heights for someone from Norfolk!  To arrive at this actual location we have had a marvellous couple of days so let me explain.

Yesterday morning we packed away and departed from Pont de Veyle, stopping for fuel in Bourg-en-Bresse and then continued onwards towards our night stop at Grottes Du Cerdon.  We reached the town of Pont d’Ain and decided to stop for lunch, after a couple of attempts I eventually found a suitable parking spot at a picnic area right next to the river Ain.  Within minutes table and chairs were sited on the river bank and a light lunch was taken in the sunshine.  Eventually we dragged ourselves away from the idyllic scene and headed onwards.  Just outside the town we had the misfortune of striking a black cat, who made the mistake of changing directions at the last minute, our speed was slow but the thud sounded sickening, the cat appeared to shake off its knock and scurried back across the road, Guess it only has 8 left now!!!

Cerdon it would seem is famous for two things, it is the only place in France that produces a Sparkling Rose wine and in the gorge above the town there is a dramatic prehistoric cave system that can be explored.  Our night stop was in the car park for the caves, a fairly uneven grass field pretty much in the middle of nowhere.  Interestingly a footpath that ran to the side of the car park was signposted to St Albans, a local church not the Hertfordshire Town.  Once the sun set, and it was impressive, the temperature rapidly dropped so to keep warm we retired beneath a double layer of quilt and sleeping bag, nice and toasty.

This morning, like most mornings, was bright and clear although quite fresh.  We moved from Cerdon Caves to the Town of Nantua.  It was less than a 30 minute drive, parking was easy in a large car park next to the lake.  Nantua sits at the Eastern end of a glacial lake with steep cliffs towering above the town, our first priority was to find the tourist office and try and learn a bit more about the town.  As usual the tourist office happily ladened us with brochures and maps which covered every aspect of the town and surrounding area.  The second priority was coffee and cake, we found a very modern cafe which served us with some really good coffee and excellent cake.

After Coffee and Cake we ventured onto the church of St Michael.  The portal has had severe damage to all of its statues and sculptures to the extent that only the last supper is recognisable.  Inside, the Church walls look like they are about to collapse outwards which will explain why such large flying buttresses can be seen externally and which clearly do not match the rest of the building.  It is a very sad looking church and in places looks almost beyond repair.  A Plaque within the Sacred Heart Chapel is dedicated to the priest Gabriel Gay who died during deportation in April 1945.

Nantua and the Ain region was an influential battleground for the French resistance during the second world war and as such many memorials can be found in the region.  The Ain region was originally split in two by a demarcation line, but in 1942 Germany invaded the whole region, this led to a resistance movement uprising and by the spring of 1943 the “Maquis de L’Ain” had been formed.  These men audaciously paraded through the town of Oyonnax in November 1943.  Unfortunately this led to severe reprisals and on the 14th December 1943 in Nantua every male aged between 18 and 40 was arrested and deported to concentration camps, this action was repeated across the area and left permanent scars throughout the communities.  This piece of history is eloquently displayed and told within the Museum of the Resistance and the Deportation of the Ain.  The museum is housed in the town’s old prison, entrance fee is €7 and concessions are €4, even better military veterans are free, they even gave Lina an early birthday present and let her have a concession ticket. The museum houses some very interesting display pieces from a Short Stirling cockpit simulator to one of the 138 cars that were powered by “Gas” because of the shortage of petrol.  With over 14,000 objects and documents it is one of the largest WWII collections in France, the archive film footage is a fascinating watch. 

I can highly recommend a visit to this small but marvellous museum, the significance of its storyline cannot be underestimated, a sobering reminder of the atrocities that were suffered in particular by the people of this region.  Apart from the museum the memorial that sits out on the lake is a stark reminder to the loss of life, with the names of 595 deportees who actually died whilst in the concentration camps, within the stone plinth is an urn containing ashes that were repatriated from the Buchenwald concentration camp.  Nantua is a lovely town, with such a sad and dark history.

One of the recommendations from the tourist office was to visit Lake Genin, which is why we drove here this afternoon and can understand why.  It is a beautiful location, we walked around the lake and then retired to the bar where we watched the sun set behind the hills from the terrace whilst enjoying a drink.  Tomorrow’s location will do well to better this, but as yet we do not yet know where that will be.

Paray – A Sleepy Town.

There are some days when motorhoming becomes quite mundane, the search for excitement leads you down a path to nowhere.  We have not yet reached nowhere yet, but it feels pretty close.  From our night stop in the sleepy village of Thiel-sur-Acolin we have moved into the much more cosmopolitan town of Paray-le-Monial.  However, we seem to have left behind any phone signal connections, because here in Paray the town seems devoid of any internet connections.  This puts you out on a limb really, unable to research the town, the next aire or connect with home.  Strange isn’t it that as soon as the magical phone signal is lost you feel all alone, lost in this big wide world.

Monday night as I sat in Thiel researching our next port of call, I came across an aire that we had stopped at only last year.  Looking back over our blog pages I discovered that we were once again within an area that we had traversed enroute to Italy some 18 months ago.  I have to admit I could not for the life of me work out the route we had taken to arrive at the same point.  Thankfully by reading back through the blog we could link the dots.  It might not be the most informative blog, but it has helped settle my mind as to why I am seeing so many familiar names along this particular route.

Monday was very much a day of leisure, having arrived in Thiel we enjoyed the benefit of free electricity. Lina did some hand washing before the both of us spent the afternoon lazing in the shade.  At the time it feels good to just sit back and relax, but then you feel that a day has been wasted, a routine that you can ill afford to get into.  This morning dark clouds could be seen gathering on the horizon, the good old trustworthy weather apps forecast rain for about 15:30.  We made good use of the service point, emptying and filling, I washed the windscreen and tried to remove as much dirt from the front of Maurice.  Prior to departing we were accosted by a German woman and her French partner.  Their initial interest was in our motorhome, they loved the look of Maurice with the large panoramic side windows along with the large amount of glass in the front which allows the interior to be flooded with light.  However, as always conversation soon moved onto some of the political aspects of each Country and the problems that we are all facing.  It is very clear that the UK is not unique with its immigration problems, it is also clear there doesn’t appear to be a government in the world willing to do a thing about it.  We laughingly suggested that perhaps we need to move in the opposite direction, to the countries that now stand almost empty because everyone has moved to Europe!

We bid them farewell and headed out towards the town of Digoin in search of a supermarket.  We found an Intermarche but after scouring the shelves and looking at the prices we declined to purchase anything.  I may well have made this observation before but it seems that within the large towns consumer prices are much higher, higher wages means the people can afford higher prices.  With nothing to pack away we were soon on the road to Paray, the drive through the town whetted our appetite as the streets were lined with shops and bars.  The aire is no more than a large car park and you have to pay to use any of the facilities, but as we are full we can survive for a few days yet.

We strolled out across the Bourbince River and headed towards the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, an imposing Romanesque Church that stands on the North bank of the river, there is a Chaplains park to the rear of the Basilica, a sanctuary for pilgrims with an accommodation block, there is also a diorama which seems to explains the story of Saint Margaret Mary who was born on the outskirts of Paray and had a vision of Christ, who showed her his heart, the Sacred Heart that she became devoted to, and the subsequent formation of a religious following.   We left the park and entered the Basilica but did not stay long because somebody had been sick all over the floor in one of the chapels and the place smelt rancid.  I walked back to the sanctuary information centre and informed them of the problem.  From there we headed into the historical centre of the town, very quaint, clean and well designed with modern building materials used well against the old.  The narrow streets were lined with just about every shop you could think of.  We returned to the town after dark but were surprised to find it empty.  At 19:15 we were the only people walking the well-lit streets.  Everywhere was closed, just a couple of hotels and restaurants had lights on but the tables were mainly empty, France really do appear to close up shop early.

First thing this morning we crossed the bridge back into the town centre of Paray.  A light fog was floating through the trees, just enough to keep the sun from warming our faces, we were in search of a cafe bar for coffee and cake, but unbelievably they all appeared to be closed.  We returned to Maurice, collected all our things together and headed out to the L’eclerc supermarket on the outskirts of town.  This proved to be our first real big shop, and we should have enough vitals to see us easily through the next week.  I even indulged myself and purchased some wine for taking home, it was on offer with a 20% discount, I couldn’t resist.

We have lazily moved quite loosely along the banks of the loire, but today after some discussions we have thrown caution to the wind and are making a beeline towards the Haut-Jura national park, right on the border with Switzerland.  When I say beeline, you have to remember we are in Maurice, so it is more of a sedate crawl.  Having restocked Maurice we drove out to an aire in Beaubery, just to gather our thoughts and plan the next couple of days.  The aire sits at an altitude of nearly 500 mtrs and afforded us wonderful views across the countryside.  After lunch we climbed on foot even higher to the memorial dedicated to the resistance.

We are now sat on an aire in Pont de Veyle, accompanied by two other motorhomes.  This particular aire was about one hour drive from Beaubery which means tomorrow we should be able to reach the edge of the national park in good time.  The drive here took us through the outskirts of Macon, a very busy City.  We crossed the Francois Mitterand bridge which spans the very impressive Saone river which gave us great views back towards the City, where massive barges appeared to be lining up to moor alongside the esplanade.

Moulins – a City with a Beating Art!!!

I am sitting on a bench enjoying some welcome shade from the blistering sunshine whilst sitting and reflecting on our last couple of days.  We have reached an aire in the village of Thiel-sur-Acolin, it is well laid out with small hedgerows separating each pitch, there is free water, waste and electricity,  although the electric does trip off after two hours and then has to be reset but it certainly helps.  We can stay here for a maximum of 6 days, but I would expect that tomorrow we shall move on.

We arrived at Thiel-sur-Acolin after first visiting Chevanges, another aire that provided you with all your needs including free electricity.  Unfortunately though, the aire has not been maintained very well, it sits in the corner of a large lorry park, the hedgerows are overgrown, the drain for the waste is blocked and overflowing and extensive building work is being carried out on the Mairie next door, so we opted to move just a few miles to our present location.  Prior to leaving Moulins we filled with fuel, the rumours of discounted fuel were in evidence as we managed to find a garage selling diesel at €1.86.

Moulins is a place we have visited before, back in January 2019.  The weather then was much colder and the aire and park area much less inviting.  The city has obviously invested time and money in the park area, it now has a lovely beach area with sunbeds and a boardwalk, a really good children’s play area, the obligatory petanque courts, there is also table tennis, table football, bar-b-q’s, volleyball and a cafe area.  The downside to having such great facilities is that the late evenings sees an influx of youths who think it is necessary for the whole south bank of the river to listen to their music.

We arrived in Moulins on Saturday and parked next to a Swedish van.  The occupants returning back to their vehicle just as we were levelling Maurice onto the ramps.  A lovely couple, he in fact was Icelandic whilst she was Swedish.  It is quite strange that at some point in your travels you will always come across somebody who wants to discuss the politics of the UK, Europe and US of A, and that was this particular day.  A very interesting 30 minutes was spent covering Brexit, Boris, Trump, Trade Deals and Switzerland.  We even deviated away from politics and talked about vehicle weight limits and the gearing ratio of the Fiat 2.8JTD.  The one subject we did avoid was the “Cod War”!!, thought it best to stay away from that one.  Interestingly, they have a daughter who lives in Zurich, they are now making their way to visit, but they do not take the motorhome into Switzerland.  Either they park up near the border somewhere and their daughter drives to see them or as they will do this time, they will park the motorhome in Germany and get the train to Zurich, so much cheaper.  Might keep that little nugget for any future plans to visit Switzerland.

Yesterday morning we threw back the curtains only to witness a sea of pink parading past the windows, clearly some fun run was in full swing as wave upon wave of pink clad ladies, children and the very occasional man either ran, jogged, skipped, walked or was pushed along the footpath.  Just watching was enough exercise for me.

Although we had visited Moulins before, we felt we should at least walk into the city and re-acquaint ourselves with its streets.  The first thing you notice about the skyline of Moulins is that it appears to have two identical churches, and even on closer inspection there are a lot of similarities.  The biggest difference is that the Cathedral has had extensive cleaning and conservation work carried out and looks pristine.  Both churches were open for viewing, the Cathedral had a choir practising so we sat for a while listening to their voices and the organ filling the massive Nave with some wonderful music.  Moulins eventually became the Capital of the Bourbon dynasty and through the narrow streets of its historical quarter there is much reference to the Bourbons.  Another famous, more modern person who has an affiliation to Moulins is Gabrielle “CoCo” Chanel, who left an orphanage at the age of 14 and spent her early formative years in a convent in Moulins learning a “trade” in sewing.  She then went on to work in Moulins as a seamstress.  She would often sing in the Grand Cafe in the square for extra money, but clearly her sewing skills were better than her singing voice.

It was quite difficult to assess Moulins, being Sunday of course all the shops were closed.  The outskirts are very run down. Not only are the shops closed but they are empty.  Although we never actually felt threatened there were plenty of unsavoury characters on the outskirts and in the park area.  Before leaving the City centre we did sit and have a drink at an Ice cream parlour where two waiters and a “chef” seemed to provide an endless supply of drinks, ice creams, waffles and crepes to an ever changing crowd of customers.  The frightening thing was that all the equipment seemed to be run from one extension lead!  Even so it proved a nice end to the day, we walked back over the river to the aire via a field full of sculptured cows, don’t ask we don’t know! we then tried to settle down for the evening, with the heavy bass beat echoing across the field from the bar-b-q area.  Time to move on!

Lina wanted me to put a small article in the blog about cooking in a motorhome.  I have already mentioned that the quality of meals that are produced from the “broom cupboard” are fantastic.  However, in a first for us Lina baked a cake the other day and pretty good it was too.  It is fair to say that in quite cramped conditions and with the bare minimum of products and equipment we eat very well.  It certainly is not A La carte more good wholesome cooking, ranging from beans on toast to chicken stir fry, jelly, fruit and cake or maybe pancakes for dessert, we do not go hungry.  

Bourbon Takes The Biscuit.

Today we have returned to a spot that was last visited some years ago, we are now parked on the motorhome aire in Moulins alongside the banks of the La Allier river.  This is one of those rare occasions when we are actually dipping our hands into our very deep pockets and paying to park.  One has to say though the cost is very reasonable, €4 to enter and then just €0:10 per hour.  The main reason for choosing this particular site is, like the UK we are forecast for a couple of really hot days, so if it does materialise we can seek shade from the trees, or sit out relaxed in the knowledge that we are not contravening any rules.

Over the past few days we have drifted away from both the Loire and its canal, but now our goal is to return to their banks and to follow their course South.  We have spent the last few days in relative isolation, surrounded by motorhomes but in areas so peaceful you felt almost all alone.  My last post had us parked by the lake in Lurcy-Levis, a town with very little to talk about save its fabulous lake and motor circuit testing facility.  We did venture into the town one evening but the most exciting thing was to see the last supermoon of 2023 rising over the lake.

It still amazes me how desperate some folk are for television. The parking by the lake had excellent demarcation areas, a hardstanding with grass areas separating each vehicle, giving you plenty of space to sit out between vehicles.  Now, a Belgium couple arrived and spent most of the afternoon watching their satellite dish spinning unsuccessfully in search of a signal, they moved spots, they parked forwards, they parked backwards, he paced up and down the line looking for some sort of inspiration.  Eventually, he noticed two motorhomes parked side by side who had their satellite dishes deployed and locked on.  Whether they took sympathy on him or he had the bottle to muscle in, but after some conversation he parked on the grass area between the motorhomes and stood joyous with a big thumbs up when his own dish locked on to a signal.  After that little bit of entertainment we returned to our books!!!!

We departed from Lurcy-Levis yesterday morning and made our way the 14kms to Bourbon-L’Archambault, less than a 20 minute drive it was noticeable how dramatic the countryside changed.  We were now on roads that went up and down, the undulations of the surrounding land now hiding from view what lay just around the corner, which is why, when we turned the corner and started our descent into Bourbon, we were startled to see such an impressive Castle ruin laid out before us.  The drive through the town centre is quite tricky, the roads very narrow and lined with both cars and bar seating areas, but the area does look very interesting.  We were heading to the town aire, were free water was available and urgently needed as last filled up in Lere some 4 days ago.  The Service point was really good, but the associated parking area looked quite ropey!  An ALDI and Carrefour supermarket are on the doorstep, just across the road, I headed off for some bread whilst Lina tidied the bathroom and kitchen areas.  On my return I investigated alternative parking and found that the Chateau (Castle) ruins had parking.  We ate lunch at the aire and then relocated to the Castle car park and so pleased that we did.  A huge car park with grass and trees overlooking the fields and the Castle, a really good spot for the night.

Bourbon-L’Archambault is the birthplace of the great “House of Bourbon” dynasty that ruled most of Europe at some point in history.  It is not the home of a biscuit factory, or the centre of an American spirit manufacturer, although both products carry the name!!  Apart from being the fortress town of the Bourbon family it is also a Thermal Spa town, with many fancy hotels surrounding the Thermal Spa Centre.  The town layout is dominated by the Castle and the tiny streets that lead away from the it are lined with ancient houses.  It is a really quaint place, compact and busy.  After our walk we sat and enjoyed a beer at one of the bars, in fact it was one of the bars whose seating area caused the chicane that we had navigated yesterday morning.  

We returned to Maurice, had tea and settled down for the evening.  Just as Lina was closing the kitchen blinds she noticed that the Castle was illuminated with a big “countdown clock”, we grabbed our coffees and step outside to investigate, as the clock reached zero music blared out from nearby speakers and the Castle became the screen for an impressive light show that detailed the history of Bourbon.  It would appear these cinemagraphic light shows are a common “artistic” display throughout France.  The visions that we saw in Chartres are still by far the best but this was an excellent show which told a story.  The only downside was that it played on a loop, lasted about 15 minutes, quiet for 5 minutes then started all over again.  This went on from 20:30 until 23:30, by which time it was getting just a little annoying, but with silence came sleep until about 01:30 when we were awoken by a loud thump.  We immediately leapt out of bed and withdrew the blinds expecting to see some foolhardy folk scuttling off into the distance, but nothing.  All was very quiet outside, just us and two other motorhomes, I vowed to investigate the noise further in the morning, with that we returned to bed.

It was quite late when we eventually extracted ourselves from bed, following our disturbed night.  I carried out an inspection outside and could find no evidence of damage or anything thrown at the vehicle, a look under the bonnet, on the roof and underneath also proved negative.  It was only whilst Lina was packing away the kettle that we discovered the frying pan had fallen from its shelf in the cupboard.  Mystery solved.

We left Bourbon late morning calling into the ALDI, where we bumped into the Lincolnshire couple who we have parked near over the past few days.  The promise of fuel price cuts this weekend do not seem to have materialised yet, so we only put a few litres in enough to get us another hundred miles in the hope we do come across some cheap fuel soon.

As already mentioned we are now in Moulins, we have not ventured far from the motorhome just enjoying the ambiance of the area.  A large park area joins onto the aire and being Saturday afternoon it is full of family and friends enjoying their time together in the sunshine, almost idyllic.

A Dent to my Pride (and Joy)!

Yesterday was something of a disaster.  It was one of those days when everything seemed to go wrong, most of it self perpetuating but that does not detract from the fact that we did not have the best of days.  You should not be surprised to know that we started the morning on the aire in Nevers, right where we went to sleep.  Some of the boats and barges within the port had moved but we were still in the same location.  The sunlight filling the motorhome with warmth through Maurice’s massive front windscreen.

The plans for the day were to relocate to the aire in Sancoins, about a 30 minute drive away, so we had a leisurely start to the day.  Perhaps we should, or more accurately I should have started the day with a bit more gusto then the following events might not have materialised.  The first “accident” happened whilst putting away the cups and bowls from breakfast, it transpired that I had not finished my coffee which resulted in me pouring coffee all down myself and over the fridge.  I know its only coffee and it all wiped up easily but it still annoyed me.

Unfortunately, worst was to come. With the spillage all mopped up we planned to head out to the nearby Intermarche supermarket for some groceries and fuel.  Lina stepped out into the road to assist in me reversing on to what is quite a busy and fast thoroughfare.  As I backed out of the slot Lina banged on the side of the motorhome, I mistakenly took this as a signal to beware of an approaching car, the car slowed to let me proceed, which is what I did.  Lina banged again, but to late.  The next sound I heard was the rear end of Maurice reshaping a bollard on the pedestrian crossing.  That noise quickly brought me to my senses and I immediately stopped my rearward journey and gently eased forward and onto the roadside to allow the waiting traffic to pass.  A quick inspection of the rear seemed to show no major damage, so we proceeded on to the supermarket.  We purchased the groceries that we required, but declined the fuel which seems to be rising on a daily basis and now stands at €1.97.  There is a news report that from Friday all Carrefour supermarkets will be selling fuel at cost until the end of the year.  I guess we will find long queues at those particular garages come Friday morning.

The rest of the  journey to Sancoins was uneventful and the aire had plenty of spaces.  We parked up right next to the canal and headed straight into town.  It was Wednesday and Sanscoin hosts a huge market, and it was, covering the main square, market place and side roads, stalls selling everything from fruit and veg, meat and fish to solar panels and soft water systems.  As we returned to Maurice I noticed a sign post indicating the Route St Jaques (Camino way) and I wondered how the lady with the horse and dogs who we met in Nevers was doing, had she passed this way or had she yet to arrive?

Our return to Maurice allowed me to investigate my earlier misdemeanour a bit more closely, whereby I discovered the rear ladder bracket had taken the brunt of the impact and punched a hole through the skin.  I removed the bracket and put a temporary patch to cover the hole which should at least keep the damaged area dry.  It will be possible to repair the damage but I guess it will be much harder to match the gel coat, so the rear of Maurice might never look the same again.  The only plus side about the incident was that we both managed to remain calm and pragmatic about the incident.  We certainly did not find it amusing but no tears were shed and no voices were raised, old age must bring a calming influence.

With little else to do we took a stroll along the canal until we reached a bridge, which we crossed and returned back towards the aire.  Lina attempted to make a coffee, and that was when incident number three cropped up as a mug bounced onto the floor and down the steps spreading coffee granules everywhere, much less messy than liquid coffee but still needed cleaning up.  Lina, then got hijacked by a nice couple from Lincolnshire who just happened to be walking past. I eventually had to go and rescue her from their clutches, boy could they tell a tale or two.  As we sat enjoying an early evening drink, down the towpath of the opposite bank along came a woman leading a horse and two dogs.  It was the same woman we had seen in Nevers the day before.  She set up camp in the field, even staking out a corral for the horse.  I walked over and re-introduced myself, she hopes to get to Santiago by November, a great feat indeed if she manages it with her companions.  I offered her washing facilities at our motorhome, but she declined.  I left her to finish setting up camp and wished her well on her voyage.  Walking the Camino is not easy, but to have a horse and two dogs in tow takes patience and good organisation.  At present the weather is warm, in fact hot, which must cause its own issues but imagine if it is raining, having to get up in the mornings with wet clothes and trying to fit wet riding tack, that would test anyones resolve I am sure. The dogs are exceptionally obedient, but I am sure they must offer her a lot of security if required.  

I returned back across the canal and settled down for tea, when my final “accident” happened, in moving the table I knocked over a glass of wine.  So that just about put the icing on the cake, it might have given me plenty to write about but I would have preferred to talk about something else rather than mishaps.  Hopefully, we have seen them all in one day and for the rest of this trip we will remain accident free. Lina has suggested it may be better if she takes over the driving and drinking!!

The sun was missing this morning as we arose from bed, hidden behind a cloud filled sky.  It was not the best night’s sleep because a group of youngsters thought it would be entertaining to play loud music late into the night.  We had considered staying a further night, the location next to the canal was nice enough, but we could not cope with another night of loud music so decided to move on, just 14kms to a lakeside aire in Lurcy-Levis.  As we packed away, so our intrepid “pilgrim” collected up her belongs and prepared to set off, not before fitting each of her travelling companions with “shoes” to help them on the long walk.

Now we are parked at the lake, a very nice slot, right next to the English couple from yesterday!  

The aire is busy but not full, the sun has burnt off the cloud and we are sitting in the welcome shade of a tree, right by the waters edge.  The lake has a whole menagerie of birds floating on its still waters, occasionally a great flurry of activity will see them launch into the air only to flock back into the water.  It is not silent but very peaceful.  Fishermen are dotted all around the lake, some using multiple rods and modern technology which allows them to lay on their sun beds, just waiting for the “buzzer” to sound. Not sure that really counts as fishing, does it? A few miles from our location is a Formula 1 test track, apparently used by many manufacturers, now and again the air is filled with the throaty roar of a car or bike being put through its paces.  For me it doesn’t distract from the beauty that surrounds us, I just hope that they don’t test at night!!!!