Going out in August 2025

Going Out in August 2025

Although we are home for a while, I only now have the opportunity to work out my notes from our long trip after Dick picked me up in Fisterre where I finished my Camino . Working on the new garden fence is our first priority and all our free time is spent on it. Fortunately, Dick already manages to publish the first part of our adventures in Spain and Portugal. And I’ve put my experiences from my pilgrimage on the Camino Primitivo into words. It still needs to be read through a few times and photos must be added, so it’s not ready yet.

Looking at our calendars, I see that we don’t have any appointments for the first two weeks of August. After consultation with Dick it turns out he’s also happy to hit the road again. Going out gives us the opportunity to visit Bronn Technics in Temse, Belgium. After receiving a message from our RV dealer Raema, that the sale of their company was not successful and they therefore going to close, we contacted this Belgium Company. Raema is the only Frankia dealer in the Netherlands, so we have to go abroad. When we receive a message from Bronn Technics that we were welcome, I plan a route on the computer.

On July 29th, we celebrated Henk’s birthday in Noordwijk. We chat the whole evening and enjoy a delicious pizza. Henk can make this like no other. We leave late in the evening and drive home. We have less sleep than usual and wake up by the alarm clock at 7:30 am on Wednesday, July 30th. After a quick breakfast, Dick takes the bus to the storage facility while I carry all our stuff downstairs.
At 11 am Dick park our camper behind the house, and we load everything. Even though we have a good routine now, it still takes us 2 hours to give everything a place. But at 1 pm we were able to leave. It’s nice and warm now. The thermometer gives 73 degrees Fahrenheit and the sun is shining brightly.
At a quarter past three we pull into the parking lot in Temse. There’s still plenty of space. According to our app, an overnight stay costs 12.50, but at the machine, the basic price for an overnight stay, excluding electricity and water, is only €5. That’s a pleasant surprise. After noting the coordinates and drinking coffee, I walk into town to explore what it has to offer. The shops  Action, Lidl, and Delhaize are all within walking distance, and the town center seems charming.

There’s a nice tower and the church next door also look lovely, but it’s closed. I buy some ingredients for our evening meal and walk back. Since it’s already 6 pm I can start preparing our meal right away. The food is good and the magnum ice cream afterward is delicious, especially since it’s 79 degrees.

On the last day of July, we get up a little after seven. We dump our blackwater and then drive to Bronn Technics.

The company is located on a busy road, and it takes a while to find a parking spot for our camper. But then we spot a strip of land along the road where we can park the Frankia and we walk inside. After greeting the owner, we are received by Coenraad. Bronn Technics is a family business and it feels good. We discuss everything what needs to be checked and then we leave. We’ll bring our camper early September. Then all work can be done.

I planned an overnight stop only 34 miles away, but since it’s not even 10 am yet, we decide to drive on to Laon, France, 155 miles away. The town of Laon is situated on a hill, higher than the surrounding countryside and we zigzag up to the center.

Unfortunately, we’re on the wrong access road. We must squeeze through narrow streets and get stuck at a roadwork. We turn, which works well thanks to the help of the road workers moving fences, and then end up at a dead-end street. We turn again and enter another narrow lane, again after turning we are in a  dead end street (the tension is palpable in my stomach) but finally we manage to reach the correct access road to the parking  at the foot of the city walls. Fortunately, there’s still a spot available and we can park our Frankia.
To recover from the endless drive through the narrow streets of this fortified town, we enjoy a coffee and then we walk into town. It’s also good for Dick, as he can now try out his new orthopedic shoes.

It’s always fun to stroll through the streets of Laon. There’s always something to see, and of course, we visit the cathedral. It’s busy; you can tell it’s the middle of the holiday season.

After two hours wandering around, we’re back. The restaurant on the corner  doesn’t open until 7:30 pm and we decide to get Turkish food tonight. After watching the Tour de France Women on TV, I walk to the eatery, and a little later we enjoy a delicious kebab platter. We take another look at the beautiful old city gate, but soon after, we go to bed.

On Friday, August 1st, we don’t wake up until a quarter to nine. We both need our hours of sleep. After breakfast and a fair amount of washing up, we leave. Unlike the past few days, it’s now heavily overcast and there’s occasional rain. Fortunately, the rain stops quickly.
The road is relatively quiet. When we arrive in La Liviere there’s absolutely no one at the parking site behind the barrier. I understand that nobody is here because it feels utterly dull. We decide to drive on and half an hour later we arrive in Wassy.

There are a few spots next to a narrow canal. It’s packed with cars. Fortunately, no one is in the two longer spots and we can park our Frankia there. In the corner, a RV is emptying its grey and black water and filling up fresh water.
We want to have coffee because it’s already a quarter past one. The sun comes out in full force. The thermometer also rises to 74 degrees. While I go to the supermarket on the other side of the village (a good way to walk some miles again), Dick goes looking for a geocache in the nearby park. It’s strange that I keep the sun while Dick is being drenched in a downpour. Finally, we both make it back to the camper. Then I decide to walk to the center of Wassy. As in every town, I want to take a look around. Dick, still wet, stays in the camper.

I walk to the church where I fish a geocache out of a cistern. With some difficulty, I manage to write our names on the wet logbook. Then I take a look inside the church. Unlike in Spain, churches in France are almost always open. There are some beautiful paintings and there is also a chapel St. Jacques (Apostle James the Greater). However, the statue in this chapel doesn’t depict the Pilgrim James I’m used to. However, elsewhere in the church is a painting of all the apostles. On this one I recognize Apostol James as a pilgrim.
After wandering around the church for a while, I go back outside. Ominous clouds are gathering. Shortly after, a heavy downpour begins, and there’s also a thunderstorm. Luckily, I can find shelter next to the pharmacy. Since I’m at a pharmacy anyway, I walk in and ask for a bone pill. I don’t have enough with me. Despite the fact that these pills are only available with a doctor’s prescription, I’m given a strip anyway, so I have pills for this vacation.I need this medicin since I broke my wrist two years ago

The rain continues, and continues to pour, but I finally decide to walk back to the camper. Because of the heavy rain, a thick, yellow stream of mud is seen in the river, it obscures the view of the riverbed. Towards evening, all the parked cars disappear, and it becomes very quiet. One camper arrives late, but we don’t mind. We eat baked potatoes with cordon bleu and salad, and it tastes good.

On Saturday, August 2 we get up at 8 am. When I look out the window, I see two large animals sitting in the grass. They’re too big for cats, and I have no idea what they are. When a hiker approaches, they run towards the water. I don’t think they can be rats either, because they are enormous. A beaver, then? We have no idea, but they are unusual. A little later, we even spot a whole family, five of them swimming around. Unfortunately, we can’t get a really sharp photo. But the quality is good enough for my cousin Inge to tell us the correct name: a coypu. They’re common in France. A quick glance, and then they disappear under the bushes on the other side of the water, and we can have breakfast. Dick cooks (for me) and fries (for himself) an egg and it tastes good. After washing dishes, taking in water and dumping, we leave. Despite the fact that summer holidays have now started everywhere in Europe, the back roads aren’t busy. After a stop in Pontigny, where we take a look at the large abbey, we continue our journey.
We regularly see the sun, but there are also many clouds. We continue our way through a rolling landscape and suddenly a hill loom before us; it must be Vezelay.

The parking is introduced in our hakuna, but through the narrow, winding streets, we take the wrong turn and end up at the foot of the castle. Fortunately, we can turn around here, and a little later, we find the right spot. Except for two campers and a large bus, the parking lot is free, and we choose a spot. When the bus pulls away a little later, we move to the edge of the car park. The place is quite slanted though and when Dick turns out the adjustable feet, the front wheels come completely free.

Of course, we drink coffee, and after paying for this parking, we walk up a rather steep path to the medieval center of Vezelay. This is a place of pilgrimage since the 11th century. From here, pilgrims depart on the Via Lemovicencis to Santiago. It’s the reason we drove to this town. The center is quite busy, not with pilgrims, but with tourists, and of course we walk to the cathedral and go inside. Unlike most cathedrals, this one is very bright inside. The high tourist content is reflected in the price of the candles. They’re three times higher than you normally pay and I decide not to light a candle here.

Of course, we also walk to the church shop. I see a beautiful wooden statue of the Apostle Saint Jacques. It’s quite expensive, though. How wonderful it would be if my father was still alive! He would certainly have carved a replica for me.

 

 

After one last look at the statue and countless pictures (it’s allowed) we walk to the gardens around the church. We enjoy the beautiful view of the wide surroundings and stop at the “Rose Vezelay”, it smells really good. Of course, I also visit the pilgrimage office (Amis et Pelerins de Saint Jacques) where I get a stamp, and then we walk back to the camper. Unlike our visit to Le Puy-en-Velay, one of the other French pilgrimage sites, I don’t have a “wooow feeling” here.
In the evening, we enjoy the North Sea Jazz festival on TV.

On Sunday, August 3, I don’t get up until a quarter past eight. Dick has already showered and shaved. I’ve slept through everything. Despite the fact that at least 20 campers stayed overnight, it’s very quiet in this large parking lot.
Once again, we take back roads south. We regularly ride through vast forests that have clearly thinned out, as piles of young trees lie scattered along the road. Soon we leave Burgundy and cross the Loire. The sky becomes increasingly blue. We now regularly pass castles in the landscape.

After a 3.5 hour drive, we arrive in Renaison, a small village. It’s Sunday and everything is closed.
At the edge of the village is a parking where we can stay overnight and Dick quickly gets our bikes out. After attaching the GPS to the bike, we set off.

The path leads us through vineyards where the grapes are already growing quite large. There are many vineyards, which is not surprising, as more than 52830 gallons of wine are produced here annually.
The geocaches we search for along the way are not particularly noteworthy, and many are impossible to find, so when we have to descend a narrow, steep forest path, we simply stay on the road until we reach the reservoir we want to visit.

There are actually two reservoirs, but we can’t find the second one right away. The forest path we’ll probably have to follow to get there doesn’t look particularly appealing for cycling. So, after taking a few photos at the edge of the first reservoir, we turn back. Later, I read that the tallest Douglas firs in all of Europe are located near the dam. But where? They might have been at the other reservoir. The camper site is pleasant, so we’ll probably return here again and look for them later.

Back in town, we try to find an ice cream shop, but it’s either closed or out of order, and there’s no restaurant either. Tonight, we’ll just cook for ourselves.
Of course, we take a look inside the church and then return to the camper.
That evening, we raise a glass of Corsican wine to a fantastic day. This wine tastes surprisingly good.
Monday, August 4, we dump and fill up with clean water before leaving. We’re now driving east. We only have 78 miles to drive, but the road goes over a mountain pass and through many villages, so we’re not making much progress. We finally arrive in Bourg-en-Bresse at 12:45 p.m. It’s still quite early, so we have a spot in the parking lot next to the Monastere Royal de Brou. The parking spaces are very narrow, but because a camper just drives away, we can easily turn in.

After coffee, we walk to the Monastere. It’s not actually a traditional monastery, but more of a mausoleum. It was built in the early 16th century at the behest of Margaret of Austria. She was looking for a burial place for her husband, Philibert II of Savoy, who died at a very young age. The complex was intended to be a place that invited reflection on transience and eternity and consists of a church containing the tombs of Philibert II, Margaret of Austria herself, and her mother-in-law, Margaret of Bourbon. There are also several cloisters filled with art.

As we enter the empty church, we see a white interior, giving it an almost heavenly feeling. The mausoleums are impressive, and it’s special that we can also look down on them from above. Even though I’m not an art admirer, the art in the cloisters is impressive, and we wander around for a few hours. We don’t leave until late afternoon. Because we haven’t walked enough yet, we also stroll to the town center, where we find some geocaches and visit another church, this time one with beautiful stained-glass windows and a golden altar. When we are back outside, we realize we’ve arrived a bit too late. A few days ago, the Tour de France Femmes started here. Oh well, we probably wouldn’t have gotten a spot next to the Monastery.
Because it’s very hot when we are back at the camper, at least 82 degrees, we chat outside with some Germans who are on their way home. They proudly show us their daughter Mathilde. They are surprised when I tell them I have the same name. In the end, it turns out we’re a letter apart; little Mathilda has an A at the end.

At night, our windows stay wide open, but the heat is hard to dispel. Oh well, we’ll sleep with Arco. (All windows can open. In Dutch the name of window is ”Raam” so Arco fits)
As it gets darker, our view of the Monastery becomes even better. It’s beautifully lit, and I can’t resist walking around it and enjoying the splendor of this mausoleum.
We sleep well. The next day, Tuesday, August 5, we only wake up at 8 am because a street sweeper drives by our window with the sound of a jet taking off.
After breakfast, we leave, alternating between two-lane and four-lane highways we head northeast. The landscape is beautiful, and the road frequently passes through tunnels carved into the rocks.

At 12:15 pm. we arrive in Besançon. It’s the birthplace of Victor Hugo, the author of “Les Misérables.” The book shows how, despite misery and injustice, people can find a better life through love and compassion. It also indicts the poverty and social inequality of the time. It had a profound impact on French society.
The hakuna takes us to a parking lot with very narrow access. We soon realize we’re in the wrong parking, turn around and drive to the one across the road. There are 12 designated camper spaces, but they’re all full. We park our Frankia in the adjacent car park, the campers arriving after us do the same. By the end of the afternoon everything is full. Oh well, there’s plenty of parking nearby. I walk to the parking meter. It’s always an adventure in itself. No two parking meters are the same, and there are significant variations in operation. This one’s okay, and after only restarting it twice, I manage to pay. Fortunately, I’m not the only one struggling. Almost everyone spends a long time staring at the display and pressing buttons before it spit out a piece of paper confirming payment.

After enjoying a coffee, we grab our bikes for a ride and some geocaching. We soon follow a path along the river Doubs. It’s great fun, as my parents, Hannah, and I have been regular visitors to this river Doubs since I was little. My French family lived nearby.

 

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, at one point we can’t cycle any further because only steps lead up, so we turn around and cycle back. We watch the little boats pass through the lock and then climb up to the Citadelle de Besançon, the imposing fortress towering over the city and built by Vauban, the famous royal architect in France.

We have to climb up narrow, steep cobblestone streets. Finally, we arrive at the fort, where we can store our bikes in the shed on the wall. Then we walk along the steep paths to the highest point of the fort. Almost at the top, we see people pointing down into the moat. As we look more closely, we see large monkeys (Gelada) sitting and climbing around. They have thick, long fur.

There is also a species of climbing goat (Capra Nubiana) with enormous horns. It’s quite remarkable to see these animals, and we take lots of pictures.

Finally, we continue our walk. We grab our bikes again and take a look inside the large Cathedrale Saint Jean. The church has some beautiful stained-glass windows. Then we cycle back to the camper. I get some drinks at the supermarket, and in the evening, we relax and watch TV.

Wednesday, August 6, we get up at 8 am. We dump our gray and black water, and Dick fills our freshwater tank with a watering can. Then we leave this town.
We drive along narrow back roads, again through a rolling hilly landscape. We leave the Jura and enter the mountains of the Vosges. Unfortunately, the sun is blocked by cirrus clouds. We stop briefly at the Darney intermarche, and while I walk into the supermarket to buy some Corsican wine, Dick cleans our windows. It’s allowed to stay overnight in the parking lot here, which is good to know.

At 12:30 pm we arrive in Vittel. Next to a narrow stream, the Petit Vair, which divides the town into two, there are three spots for campers, and we park our Frankia there.
Actually, we only know Vittel as the name of the water in the supermarkets. But even in Roman times, people came here for the water’s healing properties. In the 19th century, this town developed into a “Thermal Station,” and around 1880, a railway line and large hotels and baths were built where people took treatment. The era of the “Belle Epoque” began.

Although there were baths in Vittel, the most important treatment was drinking thermal water. You started the day with a glass of Vittel water, followed by another in the afternoon and evening. In between, you had to rest, not overeat, and exercise. Hence the swimming pools and the large park surrounding these buildings. Naturally, this had a positive effect on health.

When we arrive at the park, we see that many buildings are empty. Only the Grande Galerie is still in use. You can feel some of the grandeur of yesteryear. Unfortunately, the Grande Source and the Palmarium, an indoor swimming pool, are no longer accessible. Looking through the windows, we see that everything inside had been demolished. No swimming here will ever be possible again. It truly feels like a bygone era.
We stroll leisurely through the vast park, searching for some geocaches along the way. The weather is wonderful, sunny, blue sky, and 79 degrees, and we enjoy it.  After 3,7 miles we’re back.  I have a feeling Dick’s new orthopedic shoes are working, as he hasn’t walked such a distance in recent months. Along the way, we discover an Asian caterer, Hao Wei. I will get dinner there tonight. It turns out to be a good choice, because even though the selection of dishes is somewhat limited, the quality of the food is exceptional. We’ll be back here just for this excellent food.
The heat stays for a long time, but with all the windows open, we sleep well.

On Thursday, August 7, the sun is shining and early morning it’s already 69 degrees. After breakfast, we leave and drive into the mountains. It turns out the road passes the “Fraispertuis” family amusement park, and we soon find ourselves stuck in a never-ending traffic jam. Finally, we arrive at the park entrance. Here it’s a mess of cars trying to find a parking spot. Fortunately, it calms down afterward, and we can continue on. After three hours and 62 miles, we arrive in Saint-Die-des-Vosges.

This town was founded by the hermit Saint Deodatus as early as the 7th century. The camper site is crowded; you have to pay before you can enter so I walk in first. After I see that there’s a spot for our Frankia Dick drive to the barrier and I begin my struggle with the payment terminal. After some complaining and restarting, I finally get a payment card with a code, and the barrier opens. Dick finds an even better spot and parks the Frankia there. We’re partly parked under trees, but by turning the camper we can watch TV tonight.
Of course, we first have a coffee, and then we walk along the river Meurthe into town. We take a look at the cathedral made of pink sandstone from the Vosges and walk through the atmospheric Gothic cloister, a remnant of the medieval abbey.

On the square in front of the cathedral, we see the outline of America.
In 1507, a group of professors in St. Die worked on a description of the world, which also included a world map: “de Cosmographiae Introductio.”
They read the travel accounts of the Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci, who had explored South America. He wrote that the new continent was not part of Asia (as Columbus thought) but a “New World.”

This led the professors to decide that they saw no reason not to name this new continent after the discoverer. Because both Europa and Asia are feminine names, this new world was called “America.”
For this reason, the city likes to call itself “Marraine de l’Amerique,” the godmother of America.

Once outside, a geocache leads us to the Tour de la Liberté (Freedom Tower) an (in my opinion) ugly structure of steel cables and glass built in 1989 to commemorate the bicentennial of the French Revolution. Now it’s a symbol of the modern city.

Near our camper site is a rapid in the river that we walk to. Teachers and students from the high school have built a pedestrian bridge, the “passerelle de la Vanne Pierre,” so we can look down on the rapids from above. There isn’t much water at this moment, so it’s not really spectacular. The bridge is nice though and there’s also a geocache, which we quickly find. Dick walks back to the camper while I continue to look for one last geocache. This makes me walk a few extra miles.

Back at the car park it turns out to be quite full. Not only with campers, but also a few caravans and tents have discovered the large grassy area where they can spend the night. It’s striking, but this place also invites many campers to place outdoor mats in front of their doors to enlarge their space and prevent other campers from parking too close to theirs. This is truly “camping” behavior. In most parking lots that behavior is not allowed

We don’t wake up until 8:30 am on Friday, August 8. It’s already 68 degrees and warm.
After a good breakfast with a freshly boiled egg, we get the camper ready to go. Before finally leaving, we dump. Dick already filled up with fresh water because we’re parked next to a water tap. We only drive 78 miles and arrive in Saverne around noon. Saverne was already known in Roman times as Tres Tabernae (three inns). It was a stop along the Roman road from Strasbourg to Metz.

At the parking lot where we’re supposed to spend the night, we encounter a barrier, blocking our access as well as an annoying pay machine, but we’re finally able to park our Frankia in this practically empty lot.

After coffee, we stroll into town. We see on the other side of the water Château des Rohan. This enormous castle is also known as the Versailles of the Alsace. We walk in the hottest part of the day, and it’s warm; the thermometer reaches 86 degrees. After admiring an old lock, we continue along the Grande Rue, a shopping street lined with beautiful old half-timbered houses.

A little later, we veer off and find a former monastery complex next to the church, the Couvent des Recollets. Founded in the 14th century and inhabited by the Franciscan Friars Minor (the Recollets). We’re allowed to walk through the cloisters, admire the old paintings on the walls, and enjoy the silence and serene atmosphere. From the cloister, we can enter the church; the interior is simple but beautiful.

Finally, we continue our walk and arrive at an optician store on the Grande Rue. The German sign on the facade reveals that this area used to be German territory. We slowly walk back to the parking lot. At an intersection, we go in different directions because I want to do some shopping at the supermarket. When I get back to the camper, the parking lot is quite full. Next to us is a (Dutch) camper that clearly needs space, as a large outside rug has been laid out to prevent anyone else from parking there. Fortunately, there are still spots available.
Despite the fact that it’s still very warm, at least 90 degrees, we start cleaning inside. Dick cleans the dashboard and windows, and I vacuum. It’s really necessary.
We eat Nems. The name comes from the French word for Nem Ran, which in Vietnam means fried spring roll. The filling usually consists of a mixture of glass noodles, ground meat or chicken, carrot, onion, mushroom, and herbs. It’s a delicious appetizer, followed by leftover chili and macaroni. We drink an Alsace beer with it because it’s warm.
However, we see on TV that it’s even hotter in northern Spain and Portugal. There, the temperature reaches 104 degrees. It’s quite remarkable that Dick walked 3.7 miles because he has a huge blister on his toe.

On Saturday, August 9, we get up at 8 am; it’s already 68 degrees. It hasn’t really cooled down overnight.

After breakfast and filling up with water, we leave and drive north through the rolling hills of this French countryside. The sky is blue, and we regularly see huge windmills. In Saarbrücken, we follow the river Saar and before we realize, we arrive in Mettlach, Germany. Despite the holiday season, there are only two campers parked. We have plenty of choices to park our Frankia. The sun is beating down on the windshield, so after the camper is on its feet, we immediately apply the winter insulation mat to the windshield. That makes a big difference in the heat inside.

And then I vacuum. This morning, I smashed our glass coffee pot, and small shards of glass are scattered everywhere. Afterward, we take all our empty cans to the Netto supermarket and then we walk to the center to pay for the parking at the tourist office.
Dick isn’t wearing his orthopedic shoes because the blister is too big and burns too much. The shoemaker needs to create some more space first.
Since it’s almost 3 pm we don’t take seats at a terrace to order ice cream. After all we have booked a table at the Abtei Brau for tonight. While Dick walks back to the camper after exploring the shops in this small village, I walk on and check some other shops at the end of the village. It means again some extra miles.

Around 6:30 pm, we walk across the parking lot to the Abtei Brau. We find an empty table on the terrace and, as always, have an excellent meal. With a full stomach we walk the 300 feet back to the camper and watch some more TV before going to bed.
On Sunday, August 10, we don’t get up until 8:45 am. It seems as if the heat inside the camper lets us sleep longer and more deeply. All the shops are closed, so we can’t have breakfast with fresh rolls, but luckily, we still have some French emergency bread. It’s full of seeds and tastes quite good. Then we leave and drive to the north of Luxembourg, to Weisswampach. When we used to have our caravan in the Ardennes, we regularly did our shopping here. Back then, there were considerably fewer shops than there are now.
We fill up our tanks, the fuel is still cheaper than in neighboring countries, and drive the last miles to St. Vith, Belgium. The app says campers longer than 23 feet can’t be parked here, but when we arrive, it turns out there’s plenty of space, even for longer campers and we park our Frankia. As we walk to the center, we quickly discover that this part of Belgium is German speaking. During the Battle of the Ardennes in December 1944, more than 90% of all buildings were destroyed, and only because photos are displayed in various places throughout the city, we can get an idea of ​​what it looked like before the bombing.
The church was also completely destroyed, but in the 1950s it is rebuilt as a fairly austere modern church. It serves as a symbol of the reconstruction of St. Vith. Despite the bare interior, there are still some beautiful images to be found.

Unfortunately, all the shops are closed, but an ice cream shop is open, and we can’t resist buying one.

We have to wait in line for a while, with temperatures of 84 degrees, everyone thinks an ice cream is deserved.

After walking past the Buechelturm, an old city tower from the Middle Ages, we descend over the Million mountain. After the war, all the war rubble, the destroyed buildings, and the enormous amounts of abandoned military equipment were collected and piled in one place. It became known as the “Millionenhuegel” because it contained literally millions of kilos of scrap metal. Now, the hill is a monument with information boards and beautifully landscaped.

Finally, we’re back at the camper. There are two more caches I’d like to find, so after drinking some water, I go out again. It takes a while before I find the first cache. Sitting under a crucifix, I notice a reflector on a light pole. It looks natural, but it’s also rather unusual. Upon closer inspection, the reflector turns out to contain a log roll. The other cache is supposed to be hidden somewhere in the hills on the outskirts of town. But no matter how hard I search, I can’t find anything. I do slide down a steep hill several times, while I look for the geocache. I finally arrive home late in the afternoon.
After all these escapades, we have a simple meal: sausages with rice, cucumber, and tomato. But it tastes good.
The parking lot is quite full now. Yet, many campers still arrive late in the afternoon looking for a place to sleep.

We’re ahead of our schedule, so the next day we have time to make a stop in Sittard, Netherlands, before driving home.
At 11:30 am, we arrive at the parking lot next to the swimming pool, and there’s plenty of room to park our Frankia.
We even manage to park in the first spot where the satellite  still has reception.
After registering with the municipality by phone (mandatory), we grab our bikes to explore the area.

There’s supposedly a lot of geocaches hidden along this route.
But unfortunately, despite searching everywhere, we don’t find many caches. It could be due to our search pattern, but they could also be gone. The surroundings are very pleasant, though, as we regularly cycle between trees, providing shade. This prevents us from overheating. The thermometer is already back up to 86 degrees. After a lovely bike ride and not so many geocaches, we return.
We still have food (cordon bleu, baked potatoes, and green beans), so we don’t have to search for a supermarket. We’re comfortable in the camper with all the windows open, and because there’s a slight breeze, it’s definitely not too hot inside.

Tuesday, August 12 starts with sunshine and blue skies but soon clouds appear and even a few raindrops fall. Most of the rain, however, remains high-altitude rain. The wisps of rain hung in the air, but before they can reach the ground, they evaporate and don’t make it to the earth. We are back home at 11:30 am. It clears up again, and we are able to unload everything dry. The mess in our living room is getting bigger and bigger.

The next time we pick up our Frankia is when we head to Bronn Technics in Temse, Belgium. Then the Frankia will get a major service and its annual waterproofing inspection. This meant emptying all the overhead cupboards; otherwise, the inspection is difficult to carry out. Once everything is empty, we clean the interior and exterior. By the end of the afternoon our camper is clean and parked behind our house.
The next morning, Wednesday, August 13, we leave together. Usually, Dick returns the camper alone. Now I drive behind the Frankia. When we are near the gas station, the camper slow down. I turn on the hazard lights and Dick crawls along like a snail, followed by a tremendous honking of cars in a hurry.

After filling up Dick drives again and we go on. We avoid the highway anyway.  I regularly see the brake lights come on, but Dick is clearly not braking. After a while the Frankia is slowing down again. Very strange. We continue and at the Maas boulevard, in the center of Rotterdam, the Frankia refuses to drive further on. Dick just manages to park his campervan in an open space aside the busy road.
The Frankia refuses to move anymore and there’s no other option but to call the roadside assistance, who arrives about an hour later. The problem turns out to be a faulty brake light component. The roadside assistance man blows the part clean, we can drive safely, on normal speed, to the storage facility in Spijkenisse.

First, we stop at our garage and we order the faulty part from our Fiat dealer.
A week later, it’s there and can be replaced in the camper. We can safely hit the road again.
It’s good that this didn’t happen on our trip, anyway.