Bastille Day Celebrations in Gerardmer

Zagan the motorhome is in a French motorhome aire, but this is no ordinary French motorhome aire. It’s the motorhome aire in Gerardmer, the “Pearl of the Vosges” (N48.07297, E6.87431)! Why is it so special? Many years ago, when OurTour didn’t exist, a much younger Jay, Charlie and I came to Gerardmer in our first camper (Harvey the RV, our Autosleeper Harmony) as part of a two week holiday away from Corporatesville. Back then, we would go from campsite to campsite, picking them from a book – yes this was before apps like Park4Night appeared, or even ‘smart’ phones powerful enough to run them.

We were happily ensconced on a lakeside pitch at Camping Ramberchamp, taking a wander around the town, when we spotted motorhomes parked up behind the tourist office. We checked out the parking meter by the entrance and kaboom, discovered French motorhome aires. We didn’t know such a thing existed. Somewhere to park and sleep that isn’t a campsite? And for a fraction of the price? And anyone with a self-contained vehicle can stay in them (even us Brits)? It was a revelation. The next day we left the campsite and parked up here. It’s nothing special, just a parking area, but it pretty much changed our motorhoming lives. Finding aires, and later free camping, meant that our one year ‘career break’ back in 2011, became two years as our savings for the trip stretched much further than we ever thought they would. Of course we didn’t keep a blog back then, so only realised this was that place when arrived here! 

Our plans to watch the Bastille Day celebrations in Belfort were foiled by the numerous road blocks set up for the start of the stage of the Tour de France that we watched from the roadside. While I was out on a morning run around the mountain top at Ballon d’Alsace, Jay was busy finding somewhere else for us to head to. The aire in St-Die-des-Vosges had great reviews on Park4Night and was in a decent sized town, so our plan was to head there. While nearly every city, town and village puts something on for la Fête Nationale, France’s National day, or Bastille Day as we call it, the bigger the place, the more going on, right up to the huge military parade in Paris.

About an hour into our drive we entered Gerardmer. There were signs up all along the main road saying it would be shut from 5pm, a huge market outside the church, a carousel in another square and just lots of life about the place – which is unusual for a ski resort outside of winter, but I think this is mainly a summer resort with a few ski runs. A quick look on my phone and I spotted that there is an aire here, the reviews weren’t great, mainly people complaining that €7 a night was expensive for a car park with no services, but we decided to swing by and have a look. We took a wrong turn and ended up in a huge car park next to the aire with several motorhomes in it, so I jumped out to check out the entrance to the aire – that’s when things started to look a bit familiar. The main difference being from last time we were here when there were about 10 motorhomes in the aire, it was now heaving with over 50 squeezed in there. That explains why so many were in the car park next door, it had become an unofficial overflow.

Undeterred, we left Zagan in the car park and set off for a walk around the town. The tourist office had only one member of staff on and massive queues, so we figured we’d sort out the overnight parking later and headed towards the market. We never made it, distracted by a menu du jour in a roadside cafe. For €12.80 each (which seems like a massive bargain after being in Switzerland) we devoured three delicious courses, including one massive îles flottante (floating island) desert for Jay. 

By the time we’d done eating, the market had packed up and gone, but we didn’t care. With full tummies we returned to Zagan. Jay asked a couple of our fellow camping–carisites about the parking situation and we just loved their response, it can be summarised as ‘the aire is full, so we’re staying in this car park’. It wasn’t said in a nasty way, just matter of fact. It feels like when there is a special event happening like the Tour de France or a Bastille Day weekend, in some places parking rules become a bit less enforced, and a blind eye is turned to allow as many motorhomes to join in the celebrations as possible. To be fair the car park we were in was huge, empty and belonged to a linen factory and shop which would be closed over the weekend. With the OK from our neighbours, and the aire still brimming full, we stayed in the car park for the night, and what a night it was.

While doing a load of much-needed laundry at a nearby self-service laverie automatique, I found a booklet with details of all the events taking place in the town. First up was the 37th annual bike race around the town (that’s why the roads would be closed), followed by a parade down to the lake for a Feu de la Saint-Jacques (bonfire) and a concert.  We nipped down to the lake, to see the campsite we’d stayed at all those years ago, and to find out where everything was taking place later. Then, with clean clothes packed away in our cupboards, we wrapped up and headed out to watch the bike race. 

It was a bit confusing at first as to what was going on, but we worked it out eventually. The men’s race started first and went for 40 laps around the town (we only know this because we spotted a counter on the side of the start finish line), the women’s race started almost straight after the men’s, but we have no idea how many laps they had to do, and I’m not sure if they did either – some were stopping of their own accord, others pulled over after being waved at by the officials. The racers were men and women from local bike clubs, but after seeing the Tour de France a couple of days ago, they all looked like the real deal to me.

A couple of hours after it started there was a sprint finish for the men between four riders. Not knowing who any of them were, we slipped away before any award ceremony and headed to the lake. After a bit of language confusion, we grabbed hot dog and chips (it was a full on food blow out day) from the stall run by the local council and sat on the grass as the sun set. As it grew dark, the sounds from the pop concert (think cover versions of Uptown Funk etc) went quiet. Everyone stood up as a brass band led a procession of fire fighters with flaming lanterns, followed by children with paper lanterns (hopefully lit by LEDs!), from the town to the bonfire.

Then it was time for lots of flammable liquid to be sploshed around the bottom of the bonfire, which was a work of art, before finally the wait was over. The bonfire was lit and it went up a treat, and soon we were all stepping backwards as our eyeballs dried out and felt like they were staring to melt in the heat. Flames rose higher and higher, embers shot out into the night sky and the concert kicked in again. We lay on the grass with the locals and watched the bonfire until it finally started to fall in on itself, transfixed by the beauty and raw energy of nature – and it was lovely and warm.

This morning I went for a jog around the lake, ‘runishment’ for yesterday’s many foodie treats. As I followed the path I remembered that we’d walked around it when we were here last time with Charlie. Remembering the happy times with him when he was just a puppy brought a tear to my eye, until I was overtaken by a woman running with hiking sticks – don’t worry I overtook her on the flat. All signs of last night’s bonfire were gone and a small army was in place on the shore and on a pontoon in the lake preparing for tonight’s Spectacle Pyrotechnique with the theme of La Paix (peace). Now fireworks and peace aren’t two words I would normally put together, and judging by the amount of speakers going up around the lakeside, I’m not sure it will be an entirely peaceful night – but I can’t wait to see it.

Getting back from my run I noticed there were now several spaces in the aire, I guess some folks must have work tomorrow, so we moved Zagan into one of them and paid for a ticket for the night – it’s the least we can do after all the free entertainment the town has put on for us. The aire’s filled up again and I can now see coaches arriving. There’s a concert going on at the lakeside, but sadly the weather has had other ideas. It’s been raining for the last couple of hours, so we’re staying dry and warm inside for now and will wrap up for the big finale tonight. Tomorrow we’ll move on as this time next week we need to be near Calais for our ferry home.

Ju x