Europe road trip write up - its a long story so be seated
08-18-2008, 01:23 PM
#1
Instructor
Thread Starter
Europe road trip write up - its a long story so be seated
Although my C5 has proved reliable to date I was a little concerned about the length of this trip; over 2500 miles from the UK to just south of Alicante, Spain, via Andorra and France. So before we set off I changed the oils, coolant, filters and plugs, the air con was regassed and a few spare parts and tools were prepared. I need not have worried as the car did not miss a beat - amazing that such a high performance car can turn into a long distance cruiser with such ease and basic maintenance. You could not say that about a Ferrari or Aston. And boy did it prove it was a real GT; Allison and I, our luggage, fast motorways, slow back roads, torrential rain, blistering sun, high mountain passes and under the channel, all made in supreme comfort sometimes eight hours straight. Fabulous.
So the trip itself; we crossed via Eurotunnel early on a Sunday and made our way to Le Mans for the 24 hour test day.
On board the Eurotunnel train from the UK to France
The rain did not help as we had to park in a soggy grassed area and numerous spins, accidents and stops meant little track action.
A distinct lack of activity at Le Mans...
We left late afternoon and drove the 40 odd miles to our first nights stop, a delightful chateau near the town of La Fleche. “You will enjoy tonight” said the owner as she hitched up her skirt to get off her sit on lawnmower, “we have a car club staying” . Gosh we thought, maybe the Jaguar owners club or one of the race teams. How exciting, therefore, to see a row of six dilapidated light grey 1970s 2CVs parked that evening. We didn’t mingle.
A not very exciting car club...
The next day we enjoyed a real continental breakfast and set off on the back roads to Barbotan-les-thermes, passing through some of the beautiful vine filled Bordeaux countryside.
The Bordeaux area
Our stay that night was in a well placed ex-pat run hotel. We followed the streams of elderly French and German tourists to the centre of the village where a huge bath house had been built to cure all manner of ills and ailments via languishing in hot mineral rich waters. The clients still came out wheezing, limping and on Zimmer frames so quite what they had achieved we were not entirely sure.
Early start the next day to cross the Pyrenees. What a fantastic drive up twisty mountain roads and past off-season sleeping villages. One thing the French do very well is rest stops; every few miles were places to pull in with picnic benches, loos and BBQ areas. Just right for a lunch break and chance to gaze at the amazing views of snow capped mountains. Having large birds of prey swooping above and the sound of cow bells in the distance just added to the moment.
Great sights on the way
Though the 2 1/2 mile D’Aragnouet-Bielsa tunnel and into Spain. Crossing the border the mountain mist cleared and the sun broke through. The scenery changed from glistening green to dusty yellow as we made our way down the mountain towards our next evenings stop in a converted monastery near Zaragoza. Now containing a small 5* hotel it had been renovated with great sensitivity and was both atmospheric and relaxing.
Luckily better accomodation than the monks had
Our final stint the next day was one of the longest at 378 miles. Amazing empty roads through flat countryside allowed the Vette to stretch its legs until we reached each area of habitation; often made up of a ruined castle on a hill, a church or three and a few shuttered houses around a main square. At each village the locals stopped to grin and even wave as we drove through, obviously unused to seeing an American icon rumble past.
Great Spanish back roads
A week in Spain followed and by then news of the Spanish fuel strike was rife. Our confidence in making the French border on the way back was not helped by seeing a convoy of petrol tankers with a police escort. We considered delaying leaving but stuck to our original plans. A few petrol stations were closed, and some had no unleaded, but we filled up every time the tank got half full to ensure we were not stranded.
On the return journey our first stop was one of the smallest principalities, Andorra. More of a large high street than a town it had by far the cheapest fuel we encountered because of the low rate of duty. This benefit applies to most goods so we stocked up on alcohol too. While here the Vette caused a stir with cars driving alongside to take photos and shouts of “is it for sale?” - I had all the paperwork but didn’t think to ask how much would they offer.
Looking back at Andorra
Now laden down with cheap booze we crested the snow free mountain roads to gaze down at what must be one of the best twisty driving roads in Europe. Lots of bikers choose this route because of the fun it provides and we joined in by zipping down the passes with drops to one side and cliffs on the other.
What a road
Goats made way to cattle with the lessening of the gradient and we started to see signs for foie gras and local ‘vins’. We pulled into a beautiful village on the banks of the Dordogne called Meyronne for our penultimate night. Run by a Madame you would not want to cross, the accommodation and six course meal were superb. We had parked next to a GB plated Porsche and found ourselves seated near to the owners who were also enjoying a driving holiday. That was a bit of a coincidence but to find they lived in the UK only ten miles from us was more so. This was then topped by the only other diners in the restaurant hearing us and exclaiming they were from Banstead, again under ten miles from our home town.
Meyronne
Our final stay was Bourges - a cathedral city with lots of history. We had chosen a Best Western as it was right in the heart of the city and had a secure car park. Negotiating the narrow cobbled streets avoiding groups of tourists and gawping teenagers was interesting but the entrance to the car park was a real adventure. Situated up a tiny one way ‘rue’, I had to stop and go into the hotel so the desk clerk could get the garage key to open up for us. By then the staff from the nearby shops were out looking to see what was causing the low rumble and a queue of interested other cars was behind us. So different to the UK as they were delighted to see something different and smiled encouragement as I gingerly backed into the parking area. Now feeling a bit like film stars we put our shades on and strolled out to explore the city.
Bourges
We felt a bit squiffy after another marvellous dinner but this one stuck in our minds for another reason - Allison got locked in the bathroom. Having gone to investigate where she was and finding her dilemma I broke out my best pigeon French to explain to the Madame in charge. “Oh,” she said, “zis ‘appens all ze time”. Out of the kitchen came the head chef in whites brandishing a large pipe wrench. I initially thought this was to use on us for causing the problem but no; obviously practised at damsel in distress moments he released the door with a deft turn of the spanner. I decided not to ask why, if it happens ‘all ze time’, they didn’t just replace the lock.
The next day dawned with blue skies and we took the roof off for a gentle cruise back to Calais. All the journey so far had been accomplished by sat nav. For those addresses not listed I had found the grid references from google earth and saved them onto the machine. What a fantastic tool the sat nav is. The £150 it cost was well worth the arguments saved in trying to read a map and it had got us to every stop faultlessly so far. We had toggled between ‘quickest’ and ‘shortest’ routes along the way so we didn’t just do motorway miles which made it so much more interesting. Feeling confident enough by now not to check where it was taking us, however, we sailed straight into the heart of Paris - against all the advice fellow club members and family had given. Luckily we hit lunch time when I guess all the Parisians were enjoying their bread and cheese so it was not as painful as it could have been and only added about half an hour to our expected arrival time at the Eurotunnel. And we saw the Eiffel tower briefly!
So in summary we travelled 2673 miles, spent $1020 on fuel (at an average of 25mpg) and $198 on tolls. Flying direct to Spain would have been considerably cheaper, at about $140 each, but, as the well known advert says, the memories were priceless.
So the trip itself; we crossed via Eurotunnel early on a Sunday and made our way to Le Mans for the 24 hour test day.
On board the Eurotunnel train from the UK to France
The rain did not help as we had to park in a soggy grassed area and numerous spins, accidents and stops meant little track action.
A distinct lack of activity at Le Mans...
We left late afternoon and drove the 40 odd miles to our first nights stop, a delightful chateau near the town of La Fleche. “You will enjoy tonight” said the owner as she hitched up her skirt to get off her sit on lawnmower, “we have a car club staying” . Gosh we thought, maybe the Jaguar owners club or one of the race teams. How exciting, therefore, to see a row of six dilapidated light grey 1970s 2CVs parked that evening. We didn’t mingle.
A not very exciting car club...
The next day we enjoyed a real continental breakfast and set off on the back roads to Barbotan-les-thermes, passing through some of the beautiful vine filled Bordeaux countryside.
The Bordeaux area
Our stay that night was in a well placed ex-pat run hotel. We followed the streams of elderly French and German tourists to the centre of the village where a huge bath house had been built to cure all manner of ills and ailments via languishing in hot mineral rich waters. The clients still came out wheezing, limping and on Zimmer frames so quite what they had achieved we were not entirely sure.
Early start the next day to cross the Pyrenees. What a fantastic drive up twisty mountain roads and past off-season sleeping villages. One thing the French do very well is rest stops; every few miles were places to pull in with picnic benches, loos and BBQ areas. Just right for a lunch break and chance to gaze at the amazing views of snow capped mountains. Having large birds of prey swooping above and the sound of cow bells in the distance just added to the moment.
Great sights on the way
Though the 2 1/2 mile D’Aragnouet-Bielsa tunnel and into Spain. Crossing the border the mountain mist cleared and the sun broke through. The scenery changed from glistening green to dusty yellow as we made our way down the mountain towards our next evenings stop in a converted monastery near Zaragoza. Now containing a small 5* hotel it had been renovated with great sensitivity and was both atmospheric and relaxing.
Luckily better accomodation than the monks had
Our final stint the next day was one of the longest at 378 miles. Amazing empty roads through flat countryside allowed the Vette to stretch its legs until we reached each area of habitation; often made up of a ruined castle on a hill, a church or three and a few shuttered houses around a main square. At each village the locals stopped to grin and even wave as we drove through, obviously unused to seeing an American icon rumble past.
Great Spanish back roads
A week in Spain followed and by then news of the Spanish fuel strike was rife. Our confidence in making the French border on the way back was not helped by seeing a convoy of petrol tankers with a police escort. We considered delaying leaving but stuck to our original plans. A few petrol stations were closed, and some had no unleaded, but we filled up every time the tank got half full to ensure we were not stranded.
On the return journey our first stop was one of the smallest principalities, Andorra. More of a large high street than a town it had by far the cheapest fuel we encountered because of the low rate of duty. This benefit applies to most goods so we stocked up on alcohol too. While here the Vette caused a stir with cars driving alongside to take photos and shouts of “is it for sale?” - I had all the paperwork but didn’t think to ask how much would they offer.
Looking back at Andorra
Now laden down with cheap booze we crested the snow free mountain roads to gaze down at what must be one of the best twisty driving roads in Europe. Lots of bikers choose this route because of the fun it provides and we joined in by zipping down the passes with drops to one side and cliffs on the other.
What a road
Goats made way to cattle with the lessening of the gradient and we started to see signs for foie gras and local ‘vins’. We pulled into a beautiful village on the banks of the Dordogne called Meyronne for our penultimate night. Run by a Madame you would not want to cross, the accommodation and six course meal were superb. We had parked next to a GB plated Porsche and found ourselves seated near to the owners who were also enjoying a driving holiday. That was a bit of a coincidence but to find they lived in the UK only ten miles from us was more so. This was then topped by the only other diners in the restaurant hearing us and exclaiming they were from Banstead, again under ten miles from our home town.
Meyronne
Our final stay was Bourges - a cathedral city with lots of history. We had chosen a Best Western as it was right in the heart of the city and had a secure car park. Negotiating the narrow cobbled streets avoiding groups of tourists and gawping teenagers was interesting but the entrance to the car park was a real adventure. Situated up a tiny one way ‘rue’, I had to stop and go into the hotel so the desk clerk could get the garage key to open up for us. By then the staff from the nearby shops were out looking to see what was causing the low rumble and a queue of interested other cars was behind us. So different to the UK as they were delighted to see something different and smiled encouragement as I gingerly backed into the parking area. Now feeling a bit like film stars we put our shades on and strolled out to explore the city.
Bourges
We felt a bit squiffy after another marvellous dinner but this one stuck in our minds for another reason - Allison got locked in the bathroom. Having gone to investigate where she was and finding her dilemma I broke out my best pigeon French to explain to the Madame in charge. “Oh,” she said, “zis ‘appens all ze time”. Out of the kitchen came the head chef in whites brandishing a large pipe wrench. I initially thought this was to use on us for causing the problem but no; obviously practised at damsel in distress moments he released the door with a deft turn of the spanner. I decided not to ask why, if it happens ‘all ze time’, they didn’t just replace the lock.
The next day dawned with blue skies and we took the roof off for a gentle cruise back to Calais. All the journey so far had been accomplished by sat nav. For those addresses not listed I had found the grid references from google earth and saved them onto the machine. What a fantastic tool the sat nav is. The £150 it cost was well worth the arguments saved in trying to read a map and it had got us to every stop faultlessly so far. We had toggled between ‘quickest’ and ‘shortest’ routes along the way so we didn’t just do motorway miles which made it so much more interesting. Feeling confident enough by now not to check where it was taking us, however, we sailed straight into the heart of Paris - against all the advice fellow club members and family had given. Luckily we hit lunch time when I guess all the Parisians were enjoying their bread and cheese so it was not as painful as it could have been and only added about half an hour to our expected arrival time at the Eurotunnel. And we saw the Eiffel tower briefly!
So in summary we travelled 2673 miles, spent $1020 on fuel (at an average of 25mpg) and $198 on tolls. Flying direct to Spain would have been considerably cheaper, at about $140 each, but, as the well known advert says, the memories were priceless.
I'd love to make that trip. 
08-18-2008, 03:17 PM
#6
Tech Contributor
Member Since: Dec 2003
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My son was down at Le Mans this year Andrew. he said he'd seen a few Vettes
Sounds like a good time. I must try to join in next year.
Sounds like a good time. I must try to join in next year.
Thanks for sharing!
08-18-2008, 05:31 PM
#8
Race Director
Brings back memories. When I lived in Italy, the wife, kids and I would travel from Italy through the Alps to Austria, Switzerland and into Germany. We would try to take a different route each time, some of the most beautiful drives I've ever made. The scenery was simply amazing. Thanks for sharing the beautiful pics. 
08-18-2008, 07:45 PM
#10
Drifting
wow great write up well done my friend sounds like you to had one special time thanks for all the pics as the saying goes priceless
08-18-2008, 08:20 PM
#12
Burning Brakes
Very cool trip, nice pics,........you must feel like a stud on the roads of Europe in a 5.7 litre............everyone else is in the slow lane (unless they paid 100k or more).
08-19-2008, 03:43 PM
#13
Instructor
Thread Starter
Glad you all liked the story.
Ha! The French are quite up on it, what with Le Mans, etc. The Spanish were appreciative and I did see a couple of other Yanks (but not vettes) - we did the 'wave'. Not sure if that passed the protocol, waving to a non-Vette, but it worked. 
I cant believe hown many Brits, and especially Vette owners go over. It becomes a county of England for the weekend. I'm sure you've heard the local cops make a killing though. Everything by the book (speed, lights, etc) or you pay heavy fines.
It did feel rather good! 
