{"id":19676,"date":"2016-02-11T18:49:05","date_gmt":"2016-02-11T18:49:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/?p=19676"},"modified":"2021-06-13T17:24:15","modified_gmt":"2021-06-13T16:24:15","slug":"zagan-on-ice-minus-ten-at-le-praz-de-lys","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/zagan-on-ice-minus-ten-at-le-praz-de-lys\/","title":{"rendered":"Zagan on Ice, Minus Ten at Le Praz de Lys"},"content":{"rendered":"

Zagan the motorhome’s defrosting after a cold night up in Le Praz de Lys. He’s a few meters from the southern shore of Lake Geneva, or more correctly as we’re still in France, it’s Lac L\u00e9man. Our kipping spot for tonight is at the village of Anthy-Sur-L\u00e9man, in a free aire (N46.35884 E6.42183).<\/p>\n

\"The

The free motorhome aire at Anthy-Sur-L\u00e9man, Lake Geneva in the background<\/p><\/div>\n

“How much gas do you reckon we have left?” “Not sure, the big bottle’s empty, but the small one’s iced up almost to the top so I think it’s full.” “What’s it say now?” “Minus 6.3 outside, 13.7 inside.” “How are the batteries doing?” “Looking good, 12.5 Volts”. “Is the heating still working?” “Yep, green light on, red light off”. “What time did the snow plough come again?” “About half one I think?” “Did that last van have chains on when he left?” “Yeah, all the vans who have left were on chains.” Such were our nervous conversations the past couple of days in the wonderland of Le Praz de Lys.<\/p>\n

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Thermometer watching in Le Praz de Lys<\/p><\/div>\n

Both of us have been snow boarders in the past. I did it for about 7 seasons, Ju for longer. The Alps were our main playground, although we always preferred the company of friends and beauty of the scenery to the slope-sliding antics. Neither of us were much good at it to be honest, and in the great shedding of stuff back home, the snowboards went on eBay early on. Hence on this trip we’ve not skied or boarded; we were in it just for the experience of being in our van in the cold.<\/p>\n

Le Praz de Lys didn’t disappoint, and we’d still be up there but for the fact I over-estimated how much gas we have left. The gauge on our main 11 Kg tank sometimes reads zero when the tank is full, or part-full, which threw me. Unbeknown to me, we’d burned through all of the big bottle since Luxembourg, leaving only the 6Kg bottle. The auto-changeover valve also seems to play up a bit in sub-zero temperatures, so the system had also used some of the smaller bottle too. End result: we’d no idea when the gas would run out.<\/p>\n

So what did we do? Used it as an excuse to eat out of course! The heating was set to 12 degrees, Charlie was wrapped up in his sleeping bag (although he always gets out of it!) and we set off on foot for the main resort, 20 minutes up the road. It was minus 4.7\u00b0C at this point. Into La Savoyarde we poured, the first non-snack restaurant we came to. Cosy, warm and empty with wonderful 1970’s decor and old skis hung from the wood-clad walls, we asked for a table for two. The smiling lady behind the bar indicated a compact little spot next to the door marked ‘Chef’. Half an hour later, the place was packed, heaving with French families, we’d seen off aperitifs (Ricard and a kir), and were focussed on attacking half a tonne of raclette cheese and un demi of house red. End result? Team Zagan 1, Cheese 0. Proud we are in this campervan, of our masterful cheese-snaffling abilities!<\/p>\n

\"Left:

Left: before. Right: after. Two thirds of Team Zagan are significantly fatter after this cracking meal.<\/p><\/div>\n

Tramping back through the powder, warmed by a freebie limoncello-like digestif, we were in for a cold one. As I lay in bed, thermals and thick-socks served to slowly cook me under a duvet and two unzipped sleeping bags. But one small movement to shift the bedding, and the cold seeped into my bones, passing through the silver screen and our windscreen like a ghost. We both kept an eye on the little green light on the heater all night, thankful the wee thing stayed green. This morning, we pulled back the curtains to another couple of inches of fresh snow, beyond it a magnificent landscape revealed by a crisp sun. Our little external thermometer told us the coldest point last night was -10.7\u00b0C.<\/p>\n

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Within an hour the aire was alive. Skis pulled from lockers, families heading for the slopes, sleds of water containers and Thetford cassettes dragged to the service point, old-hands using snow-shovels to clear around their vans, pulling out ladders to remove the fresh snow and ice from their roofs. An attempt to clear our roof via the skylight yesterday resulted in not much snow being removed, and us being unable to re-close the thing without a half hour fight with the frozen wasteland up there. Walking Charlie this morning we found ourselves stood alongside the lady staffing the aire as she took a photo. “Is it the law to remove the snow from the roof?” I asked in my best Frenchish. “No, no, they do it for themselves, you don’t have to do this.”<\/p>\n

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\"DSC00072<\/p>\n

Ju recalled we’d entered the aire at about 11am, and the \u20ac10 charge was per 24 hours, or part of. A small race developed as a result, to get us out before 11. About 3 inches of snow and ice covered the ground, and the exit was up a hill. Chains were going on. But not before we’d removed what ‘frosting’ we could from the van. In other words, the lockers, windows, and wipers were frozen solid in thick ice. Our French electricity saviour knocked on our door: “I have four hours of electricity for you.” What a hero, a complete stranger. We told him thanks, but we were leaving, he smiled and shook my hand, “bonne route”.<\/p>\n

\"DSC00054 \"DSC00057 \"DSC00071<\/p>\n

Modern motorhomes are incredible beasts, and my admiration for the machinery’s gone up a notch over these past two days. If we can find a place with hook-up, we could easily live in minus-whatever temperatures for a week, with hot and cold running water, a shower and loo, fridge, TV, double bed, you name it. Our main restriction in here is the fact we have fixed gas tanks, so can’t just swap them over on-site but have to drive to an LPG fill-up point. A couple of people have suggested a solution: to buy a local gas cylinder and regulator, and back-fill the gas system via the external gas BBQ point. Sounds dodgy, but I can’t think of a technical reason why it’s unsafe, as long as the external bottle is protected from being damaged?<\/p>\n

Anyway, 10:30am comes around. We’ve chipped off enough ice to enable us to move. The snow-chains are on and our French neighbour has nodded his approval I’ve done it right. The engine fired up first time, after the glow plugs spent an infinity warming up. This was it. The thing we’d (I’d) been nervous about for over 4 years: driving on snow, in front of seasoned locals. Off we went, Ju checking the chains had self-adjusted as I rolled along. The van just rolled along as though on black-top, up the slope to the barrier, Ju paid, and within a couple of hundred meters the road was gritted and off came the chains at the side of the road, taking care not to drive over the plastic bits as we took ’em off.<\/p>\n