Catching up with Friends in Paris

Zagan the motorhome’s roof’s gradually piling up with fallen autumn leaves from the high trees of Camping de Paris on the outskirts of this iconic capital city (N48.86949, E2.23577). We’ve popped up a short review of the campsite, including costs, how to get into the site and the Crit’Air scheme here if you’re thinking of coming.

We came here to meet our Australian friends Rose and Paul, who we first met around five years ago at the end of our first two year motorhome tour (and the end of an epic three years touring Europe for them). They’re here in Europe as Rose has walked the Camino de Santiago, helping to raise over AUS$50,000 for a cancer charity back home. We took the opportunity to nip over and see ’em on their way back to Darwin, in the Australian Northern Territory.  They’ve no longer got a motorhome in Europe, so stayed in a cabin here on the site, a short walk from our pitch.

Yep, the last time we saw them in person wasn’t far from here, up on the French coast as we all mentally steeled ourselves for re-entry back into the rat race. Our funds had run out, and Ju and I had no jobs to return to (gulp). Rose had been offered a job setting up a new airline office in Darwin (a new city to them), and we were all on the crux of a big life change. Our last few days of ‘freedom’ were a turmoil for me – I really didn’t want to head back into the office – but they were made all the more enjoyable by these two.

One of the greatest gifts travel bestows is the opportunity to meet fascinating folks, people from outside your usual sphere. Paul and Rose were two great examples of this for me. At the time we met them, they’d completed three years of travel in an Autotrail motorhome (called
wher’dmadaygo), having also spent two winter seasons in rented chalets in France and Austria, and also taken two last-minute cruises, one to Norway and one back to the UK on the Queen Mary from New York. They’d opted to swap the moped they towed for the first year or two for a VW Golf which, instead of towing, one of them would drive while the other drove the van. To date they remain the only couple we’ve ever met who do this, and it gave them a lot of flexibility scouting out free camping (free-bagging) places, driving into cities, driving out to fishing spots and the like.

Inside the van they had a huge TV, which we enjoyed watching a movie or two on, bemused by just how huge the screen was compared to our laptop! Outside they had a charcoal BBQ (considered essential equipment) which was started off with gas, over which they cooked up oysters and fish which Paul had gathered from the coast with me that morning, demonstrating the fine art of spear fishing, using a rather large knife to dispatch his reluctant prey before my wide eyes.

After we left them in 2013, Rose flew home and started the frantic task of relocating them both to the other side of a huge country, and single-handedly starting up a new office for work (a job she did in weeks, which would have taken my old company many months). Paul remained in the UK to sell the motorhome and then the car, before flying back to join her. We’ve since kept in touch through Skype, which would typically see us with the fire on while they were sat in sweltering heat in among tropical plants and screeching wildlife, holding beers in cooling sleeves.

Since then they’ve built a great life in Australia’s far north, modestly regaling us with tales of trips to Bali, of ‘island sitting’ (looking after a private island), being chased by 4.5m crocodiles, catching sharks (Paul: “have you ever held a shark?” us: “err, no”), of clothes in the wardrobe going mouldy in the wet season and dealing with dinner-plate sized spiders roaming the house. On this latest catch up a few more fascinating facts came to light: for example, it’s illegal to let your pet cat roam about in Darwin. If it gets into a neighbour’s yard, they’re perfectly within their rights to trap it (cages provided by the council) and take it to the cat pound. In return we told them about the Darwin Awards, where particularly daft members of the human race are remembered for their inadvertent self-removal from the gene pool.

So when we heard they’d be in Paris for a few days, and we were able to get over here, we quickly costed up getting the Eurostar or flying and using a hotel, and compared it with using the motorhome. Result: no contest. The motorhome was going to be far cheaper and gave us the option of two or three weeks travelling France, which is what we’re doing.

Paul and Rose got here on Thursday night, or more accurately early Friday morning after being bumped from an over-booked flight in Spain. We’ve spent a great few days walking around Paris, ambling in the Bois de Boulonge and the residential district behind the campsite, watching folks water skiing on the Seine and musing about life on the Dutch barges moored up behind us. We’ve reminisced about the camper days, and their long months skiing and messing about in the Alps. It’s been a cool catch up, and we’ll make sure we see them again before another five years is up.

What’s next now for us? Versailles tomorrow. We’ve tickets for the chateau, and are going to use the train to get over there for the day. After that, we’ll head out of Paris and have a few days before the ferry home, so will probably head vaguely north-ish. We never forget how much of a huge privilege it is to have the level of freedom and flexibility we have, but that said I feel re-invigorated to take advantage of it all having again met this fun and frenetic two.

Cheers, Jay