The Camping Car

We discovered the subculture of camping cars on our Tour de France. There were a lot of us on the road, and a lot of places in France accommodate camping cars. Those we met were helpful in helping us learn the ropes quickly. It was much more "camping" than we anticipated. I mentioned in my last post that when Geoff picked up the camping car from a kind and generous bishop and his family (from a neighboring ward) it was discovered that the water wasn't working. That meant no shower, no toilet, and no kitchen or bathroom sink. Instead of putting our trip off for a day or two to have it fixed we decided to live without it. We could use the toilet by pouring water in to flush our waste down which made it more like a latrine, really. We relied heavily on Purell for clean hands. We took three showers during the trip at camp grounds, and washed our clothes once. It is one thing to feel and look like you've been camping when in the woods, it is another to be walking around Paris! On the second day the fridge stopped working, and at one point we lost the gas for a few days. When we cooked we couldn't wash the dishes so we wiped them off and turned a blind eye to the germs that were most definitely there. Finding a place to sleep was always an adventure. We slept at rest stops next to big semi's, parking lots in the middle of towns, and occasionally at a really beautiful spot on a river. It was a challenge to find level ground so we usually parked so that the blood would run to our feet instead of our heads, or roll us to the window side of the bed instead of open side. Only once did we move the camping car after a poor choice of parking. It was late, the rest stop was full and the only place to park was close to the freeway. Finally at 3:00AM Geoff and I decided to find a quieter spot and drove on to a country rode and parked on the side of a road in a small town. And only once did we slam on the brakes before going under too low of a low bridge; we held up traffic as we reversed to an alternate route. And only once we backed up into a fence and marked up the camping car (nothing a little baking soda couldn't take off). By far the least favorite thing about the camping car was emptying the toilet. I pulled out my "I-changed-thousands-of-diapers-while-you-travelled" card and Geoff was responsible for this disgusting task. Every other day we found a "cess pit" (as Geoff called them) which was a hole in the ground and a hose meant for this very purpose. We heard from some Americans we met that in American camping cars one pulls up, hooks up a hose, empties the toilet and voila, you're done. God bless America. In France Geoff had to pull out a container filled with waste, pour it into the cess pit, try to dislodge stuck pieces with the hose, then rinse out the cavity in the car where waste had splashed out during driving. Geoff assures me we are even now.

Driving in a camping car is like riding in a room during an earthquake. Cupboards and contents rattling, things sliding around, any objects not secured fly out of their places, and constant shaking. When we got into a normal car after our trip was over we all felt like we all noticed the silence. We welcomed the silence!

Geoff kept up his daily yoga routine...not always in the most convenient places...

The girls loved it. They loved walking around while the car was going (although this was far from safe!) The flexibility to stay longer or alter our routes was really nice. And, we saved a ton of money by "camping" our way through France.