… You have ruined us for camping, forever.

A crossroads has been reached. The Wild Berry Mamas have decided: enough camping. The Mistral has been blowing; autumn is coming, our fleeces have been unpacked, and we want fridges in our lives again.

A route has been planned and we have mapped out the last leg of our European trip. But from this point on we’ll stay in apartments.

As Little WB said: “We will stay in a hotel so the mosquitoes can’t bite us anymore.”

 

 

“But how will his friends get here?” asked little WB when we broke the news that his elder brother would be celebrating his birthday on a campsite in the Languedoc. Gently we explained that Big WB’s friends would not be arriving by helicopter to attend a conventional birthday party with presents and party games, but that it would be a special day nonetheless.

“I feel taller” said Mr Five on the big day: “I think I grew in the night.”

Anyone who celebrates their fifth birthday with a visit to the Lego Museum, followed by a visit to the largest soft play centre in the South of France can’t be doing too badly.

 

  

  

  

  

  

 

Our Bonnie lives too far away over the ocean!

When Jacqui says she will make a plan it’s always a work of genius. Many thanks to Tony and Bernard, who most generously allowed us all to stay in their beautiful gite near Arles so that we could meet half way for a very special evening, fuelled by their hospitality and Tony’s wonderful cooking. The WBBs loved Bonnie in particular and, despite some concern regarding her propensity for shredding logs and rubber objects, have spent all their time since meeting her asking if we can get a dog just like her when we get to Australia.
 

  

 

So it took major back surgery combined with a wrong turning that led to a mini-family reunion and our introduction to the newest member of the extended Kretzschmar clan – Bonnie the beautiful border collie. While rolling (yes, the car rolled but we felt all Wild Berries did too thanks to the great food) down the hill from Fontjoncouse, we took a wrong turn into France into Spain. These kinds of wrong turns on our trip have been frequent and can usually be corrected in less than 20 minutes of navigating motorway on and off ramps. However on this occasion we saw it as a sign (see Lourdes entry later) that we were being divinely drawn towards Mama WB’s cousin who lives on the other side of France and is recovering (splendidly we must say) from back surgery. “Let’s visit” we said, before realising that based on our current rate of progress and WBB2’s propensity towards regurgitation, it would take almost a week to get there. So instead, we pulled over and made a phone call and a plan to meet each other near Arles.

Plans made, we hove to at the charming Domaine La Yole campsite in the Languedoc. The site had all the usual stuff: a playground, trampoline, pools etc – but our favourite feature was the fridge hire service. Yes, dear friends, in less than a day we were the proud renters of Gertrude, a handsome fridge/freezer, fully stocked with luxuries from the Carrefour – frozen peas! Ice cream! Three types of cheese! Vive la France!

 

  

  

 

What a great game – Uno! A must for all small children who need to be taught poker, I mean, how to count. Great entertainment and requires little skill, by which I mean little players can easily end up embarrassing the oldies and taking them to the cleaners and winning every game. Wild Berry Mums almost had to resort to cheating just to prevent losing all face and status😝. Thanks to the proprietors of the Aonghusa hotel for explaining the rules. Every time Wild Berry One sees a 6 or an 9 he yells at the top of his already loud voice: ‘these are the ones you cheat with so don’t cheat’ resulting in WB Mums feeling guilty at their cheating attempts.

When not playing Uno, it was rejuvenating to manage a little grown-up conversation, and generally relax after the hectic pace of the last few weeks. The children loved visiting the Domaine Aonghusa vineyards – little WB pretended to grow carrots for all the rabbits, while big WB drove Pat’s tractor all by himself, ploughing a circular furrow, the purpose of which remains mysterious. We looked for fossils and found some! We were lavished with amazing food and wine, then astonished Pat by managing to fit two cases of wine into our tardis-like boot; people who are prepared to take their toaster camping have no shame.

‘I don’t want to leave this lovely hotel’ said big WB plaintively, echoing all our thoughts as we waved goodbye to our hosts, peace and quiet descending in our wake.

 

  

  

    

 

It was time to leave Italy and hop on to the enormous Grimaldi Lines ferry from Civitavecchia to Barcelona along with thousands of other returning holiday makers. Our GB plates were absolutely the odd ones out in a crowd of Italian and Spanish cars. The embarkation process took hours but (eventually) we made it on board and were very grateful for our cabin; 22 hours is a long time on a boat, especially with two holy terrors, er, small boys to contend with.

The best thing about our ship was the pool on the upper deck, next to a bar turning out tasty cortados (coffee, not cocktails 😢) Our cabin was also fine. The refuse in the corridors and toilets was a bit grim though! Grim-aldi: aptly named, we decided.

Disembarkation can only be described as hell-raising. It was as if the driver of every car had placed a high stakes bet on who could get off the ferry first with the fastest spinning wheels. Somehow we made it off the boat alive and intact; surfing the adrenalin rush and giving thanks to random deities for our survival, while nudging a big white Audi out of our way on the gangplank, we set a course for our next stop: Fontjoncouse.
 

  

  

  

  

 

 

We wish we’d planned to spend more time in Rome. We didn’t expect it to be quite so calm, beautiful and… to be honest, so friendly. We had been prepared for sweltering August weather, chaotic traffic congestion, pickpockets and legendary tourist rip-off experiences like the family in the papers who paid €35 for two ice-creams. Instead, we spent most of our time strolling and playing in quiet pedestrianised streets where people in Vespas drove carefully around us (one man pretended to race Cormac on his Micro scooter and kindly let him win). Mornings and evening were pleasantly warm (as opposed to boiling); we retreated to our air-conditioned apartment for lovely long siestas during the hot afternoons. It may have been because all the Roman residents were away at the beach but it suited us perfectly. Our taxi drivers were mostly helpful and accommodating; the restaurants we ate in were fab; the waiters were charming; the gelato was to die for and our days out had something for everyone!

Our visit to the Vatican Museums/Sistine Chapel and St Peter’s Basilica was a particular highlight – we spent quite some time in the Raphael galleries with the mamas appreciating art, Little Wildberry looking for the rest of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Raphael, Leonardo etc) and Big Wildberry carefully studying each painting to find the spears, swords and arrows used to ‘kill the bad guys’!  In our usual style we had set off at 7am in order to avoid the legendary crowds, and amazingly we were allowed in to the Vatican museums before official opening hours. So we had the extraordinary privilege of being practically on our own, wandering through gallery after gallery surrounded by priceless works of art. We were able to stroll around peacefully at our own pace; the boys could lie on the cool marble floors and look at the sumptuous painted ceilings without fear of being trampled underfoot.

At the end of this extraordinary day we saw the Pietà. Even little Wildberry, totally sick of it all by then, was impressed. An awesome day.

  

 

 

     

 

Wow! Rome is an incredible place. There is a real sense of ancientness. Today, for example, while wandering about we found a foot. An enormous stone foot. A small sign nearby informed us that it was a fragment of a Roman statue. Now it’s part of today’s streetscape, along with the flower boxes and Vespas parked nearby; in fact there was a small bag of dog poo beside it. And all around there are hundreds upon hundreds of similarly mind-boggling sights. No wonder the people of Rome are so cool. And the coffee is pretty decent too.

 

  

  

  

  

 

We couldn’t leave Tuscany without mentioning our day at the stunning Baratti Beach. A beautiful, natural beach with forest coming right down to the sand. Surrounded by a crowd of mellow Italians, we played in clear water while a super yacht swung gently at anchor a short distance away.

  

   

 

We spent a wonderful day exploring some of the medieval villages in the region, falling in love with the Tuscan countryside in the process. All except one little WB who was less impressed and saw little point in climbing around cobbled streets and churches, no matter how beautiful they may be. After some negotiations and gelato bribes we successfully completed our tour and arrived in the coastal town of San Vincenzo for the evening.

We had the most incredible luck to find a parking space, dinner and a circus festival, in that order. The town was full of clowns and street performers. We can recommend dining by the sea while the sun sets, then watching a passionate tightrope tango.

Two sleepy boys could manage no more and we left around 11pm while all around us it felt as though the party had just begun. Children younger than ours were busker-watching and enjoying Gelato cones. How on earth do the Italians do it?