WEEK 10:
**Côte d'Azur** and Cinque Terre

Living our best lives on the Riviera.

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As we edge closer and closer to our white Christmas in the Dolomites, we found ourselves this week unable to believe that we are in Europe in winter and that in a week, we will be skiing. This week was very much us making things up as we go along. Shall we take this road or that? Lyon or Cinque Terre? Thanks to the magic of science, meteorology and the internet, we can plan ahead and choose the path of least discomfort. Lyon was due for a few days of highs of 5°C or 6°C and lows of 0°C whilst the coastal road, although an hour longer, was due for sunshine and 22°C. It was a tough choice but these are the perils of travelling in a van!

So off we went, passing Montpellier and Marseille to head for another winery sleepover somewhere in countryside between Marseille and Nice. Monday was a bit miserable as we drove, so we had a domestic day of cleaning the van, getting fresh drinking water, doing some laundry in an intermarche car park and restocking with tinned goods for the next week of free camping. We arrived at Chateau Paradis at dusk and after a free and very generous wine degustation we tucked ourselves in for a silent night of sleep in the middle of a vineyard.

We awoke to an incredible scene in the crisp morning sunshine. The property was true to its moniker, lush and extensive vineyards and rolling green hills. We are honestly still pinching ourselves that we got to stay for free and this wasn’t even the highlight. In the morning the owner introduced us to the winemaker and he took us on an impassioned tour of his facility with amazing explanations of each process and how it changes or enhances the wine. We left with 2 bottles for under 10 bucks and huge grins on our faces, before jumping back in the van and heading for the coast. A slow afternoon was spent swimming laps in a seaside pool in Fréjus before winding our way along the quiet coastal road towards Cannes. We found what surely must have been the most stunning vista to park up for the night, on a cliffside, with impressive views of Cannes and the snow covered alps behind. We have been told since that this particular route is so busy in the summer and shoulder months, locals will drive up through the winding mountain passes just to avoid the hordes. Read more about why you should visit in Winter over here and here. However, for us, it was tranquility itself - just our van and the blue Mediterranean below.

Our next day was more of the same, our route taking us to Menton, a less visited part of the Côte d'Azur and the last town before you cross the boarder into Italy. Known for its micro-climate and resulting flora, Menton was a delightfully unexpected find on our travels. All of the beauty and character of the Mediterranean coast of France with none of the pretense. I did make a bit of a rogue decision to drive up the hill to what looked like a nice spot to park for the night but found myself white knuckled and praying to Jesus as we traversed the hairpin turns and cobbled lanes in our beast of a van. I thought for sure we would recreate that scene in Master of None season 2 when Dev and Eric trap their car in a narrow alleyway, with Dev then abandoning Eric to his fate. However, we made it (after a lot of holding breath and swearing) and found ourselves in a delightful part of town overlooking the sea. Pat graciously said nothing about my arrogance a mere 15 minutes earlier and we explored the town and all it’s culinary delights.

Saying goodbye to France, we decided that we wanted to try and get to Cinque Terre and spend some time there while the weather was good. We camped east of Portifino on the Italian Riviera for our first night back in Italy. At this point we had been travelling for 75 days. We have parked in the middle of cities and edge of towns, slept in side streets, beside gardens and in council car parks and this night was the first night we had to move the van.

The car park we had chosen was well reviewed on multiple apps, right on the beach with views of the town and harbour and next to an indoor sports stadium with lots of families around. It was a Thursday night, we had been settling in for the evening with a glass of wine and a book and all seemed quiet. However, at 11pm we were both startled by a series of yells, screams, and the unmistakeable sound of a man kicking in his own car door. We cracked our black out blinds to watch this clearly unwell man perform a loop. Open car door, slam car door, boot to car door, pace around, open boot, remove object, slam boot, walk to the end of the car park, walk back, kick timber railing until it snaps, repeat from beginning. All the while yelling at the top of his lungs about 5m from us. After the fourth or fifth loop we waited until the ‘walk to the end of the carpark’ section of this strange choreography arrived and quickly moved the van to the other end of the car park amongst a lot of other cars in the hope that in this poor man’s state, he would not notice us. He didn’t. We both felt uneasy about out decision, but knew that we couldn’t do anything to help him. We tentatively slept and in the morning he was gone.

A little shaken I was happy to be going to a campsite for the next few nights as a base to explore Cinque Terre; a good chance to let my nerves calm before more free camping. Thankfully, exploring the national park made our worries a thing of the past and by train and on foot we combed our way through the 5 magnificent small villages of Cinque Terre. This place lived up to the hype and lucky for us, once again the sun turned up. We had these little towns mostly to ourselves along with a few other tourists brave enough to ‘do Europe in winter’ although as we were donning t-shirts and sitting in the sun drinking beer, bravery doesn’t seem to fit our behaviour somehow. Read more about our time on the Cinque Terre here.

The Swiss owner of our campsite was quite content in letting us decide day by day how long we wanted to be there and kindly discounted our visit and gave me a free t-shirt on checking out: I suspect he did so because he loves Australians. From here we sat with a map and tried to decide if we head straight up to Parma or Modena or take a little detour via Lucca, a beautiful walled tuscan city that Pat went to with his family as a teenager and was dying to go back to. The weather wasn’t looking promising in either direction so we flipped a coin and off to Lucca we went.

It was stunning, and despite the forecast, quite warm and mostly sunny. We walked, ate and drank, climbed all the towers we could, hired bikes and did laps atop the 12m high perimeter wall, taking in the gorgeous city. You can read more about how we spent our time here. Pat searched incessantly for this focaccia bread he ate there at age 16 and has been thinking about ever since, and writing about it too - read here. Our lovely week finishes here with us drinking a bottle of French wine and celebrating my Physics class back home getting their final school results and absolutely killing it, so proud. A bloody glorious 7 days.

Week 10

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