Our first stop from Calais is less than an hour away. We pull onto the municipal campsite in Aire-sur-la-Lys in Pas-de-Calais department, not expecting much. Our view is of the River Lys, behind us is the canal, the whole watery world peaceful. Barges and houseboats line the banks; ducks quack from sunlit rippled waters and we’re off to explore the town.
The town was once wealthy and that’s clear from the grand old houses, and Collegiale St. Peter, now all looking a little faded. The town was on the pilgrim route to St. Jacques de Compostela, (where in western Europe wasn’t?) so it’s got ancient hospices for travellers, monasteries and convents a plenty. The inside of St. Peter’s is stained with age, but you can still see remnants of vibrant blue, red, gold and green that once adorned its walls with frescoes. Its grand size must have been even more impressive with that riot of colour.
Even more fun, we’ve arrived in time for the sausage festival. The Bolivian dancers are dressed in vivid turquoise, gold and silver. As they jump and whirl the bells on their feet ring out. The next group are a bit of a mystery though; they wear huge ostrich head-dresses on top of Medieval looking white caps. They strut to the beat of drums, while slinging oranges into the crowd.
The grand houses are explained by the rivulets which run through the town. In the days before the big canal, boatpeople would ferry silks, wools and wine through the town from the port at Calais and the town then was full of rich merchants.
We move on to Lac d’Orient, just outside of Troyes in the Aube Region, near famous Champagne vineyards. Les Rives du Lac at Geraudot beach is a recommendation from our friends, Mary and Martin, and we’re delighted with the peace of the place. The reservoir sits amid the Orient Forest, which had been worked by successive groups of monks since the 7th Century, including the powerful Knights Templar.
The oak beamed houses are rustic charm at its best. At night we fall asleep to tawny owls calling. The forest is criss-crossed with walking and cycling tracks, so we take full advantage of the blue lake, and the towering oak trees.
The Maison du Forêt has an exhibition of wood carved sculptures by a local peasant farmer, René Prestat who always wanted to follow his artistic path rather than farm, finally getting to spend thirty years of his life creating scenes inspired by local people in oak. I also indulge in a little forest bathing, following the oak-sculpture trail of snakes, and mythic creatures in the woods.
Our next stop is in the Jura Mountains, near Bourg-en-Bresse at Treffort-Cuisiat’s La Grange du Pin camping, sitting on the banks of a small lake of the same name. The oak beamed restaurant proves a treat with duck wing salad and chicken cooked in chanterelle sauce.
The cycling and walking tracks through honey-stone hamlets, forests fields of sunflowers and cattle grazing are rural France at its best. Peaceful and off the beaten track, our two days leave us rested and ready for the drive through the Mont Blanc into the Aosta Valley.
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