RV Life: Final Stop at Lake Geneva

This will be the final post about our RV Around Europe trip. (I think.)
After we left the Italian town of Savona, we headed North through Torino and on to Lake Geneva.
We ended up in Excenevex, France and camped for the night, along the lake.

At the first sight of the Alps, we pulled into the next rest area to eat lunch and take in the view.

Lake Geneva is stunning.

The campground had an amazing pool, and we spent lots of time here and also swimming in the lake.

Next we drove to Geneva, Switzerland, which in my opinion is one of the cleanest and classiest cities I’ve ever visited.  This was my third time here, and yet again, it didn’t disappoint.  I would not, I repeat, WOULD NOT be upset if Shawn was asked to do an expat assignment in Geneva.

This is the Jet d’Eau, which is one of the largest fountains in the world.  We didn’t get to see it at night – all lit up – but I’ve heard it’s spectacular.

From Geneva, it was time to head back to La-La-Luxembourg.  We left Geneva late in the afternoon and arrived home at one o’clock in the morning.  This family likes to squeeze every single last minute out of a vacation.  We carried the kids in, put them in their beds and Shawn and I spent the next three hours unloading and cleaning the RV because it had to be back in Frankfurt (a two hour drive from Luxembourg) the next morning at 10.
At 4:00 in the morning, we finally got into bed.
Shawn woke up at 6:30 and took the RV back.  We were all sad to see it go.

When he returned home, we spent the rest of the day like this:

So.
Some final thoughts on THE BIG RV ADVENTURE AROUND EUROPE:
1. It’s a lota lota work.  The planning, the packing, the organizing, the grocery shopping.  I could go on, but it’s not the kind of trip that you can just set off on all willy-nilly. 
2.  It’s the perfect way to see a lot of places in one trip.  In fact, here’s a map of our route and all the places we stopped along the way. 

3.  You must have a sense of humor to travel this way.  When you’re operating and maneuvering a 29 foot vehicle in and through foreign countries, something’s bound to go wrong or slow you down or cause you to darn near lose your fool head.
4.  It’s the perfect way to travel with kids.  Ya know, a lot of people thought we were kinda crazy for taking a nearly 5 month old baby in an RV, but I’ll tell you what – it was no big deal, a pleasure even, to take a baby on this kind of trip.  There was no hauling stuff into hotels, everything was right there and we could put him down for a nap or to bed and the rest of us were free to sit outside, watch TV (because it wasn’t that kind of camping, you understand) and play games while he slept.
Now.  That’s not to say that I didn’t over pack and bring every single baby gadget that we own.  Because I did.  I even brought along his swing.  And when there wasn’t enough floor space for it to swing wide and free, Shawn did some re-engineering and whathaveyou to make it fit into the small confines of the RV.  I wish I had a picture to show you, but since I don’t I can only tell you that the modifications he made to the My Little Lamb Platinum Edition Cradle ‘N Swing were neither what Fisher Price nor the good Lord intended.
5.  This was truly the trip of a lifetime.  I will never, for as long as I live, forget the memories we made in these 15 days.  Finley, of course, won’t remember a thing, but Hannah certainly will.  I hope she takes these precious memories with her into adulthood. 

Okay, I think that’s it for the RV posts.
I can’t end this without saying how much I appreciate Shawn for everything he did for this trip.  He took care of all the details and made everything so convenient and easy for me.  He thought of everything. No detail was overlooked, down to the special GPS that he ordered in which we entered the dimensions of the RV and it made sure to take us on routes where we’d fit and not tear the top of the vehicle off going under a bridge or something. 
Despite all the crazy things like the Italian guy trying to scam us for the equivalent of THIRTEEN AMERICAN DOLLARS, a man answering the door in his underwear, and the RV getting stuck on a narrow, windy road in Corsica, we laughed.  Oh, did we laugh.  And we made it back in one piece, under budget and with no insurance claims. 

I’d say it was a pretty successful vacation.
(And we’re planning to do it again next summer.) 

RV Life: Another Ferry, The South of France and Italy

After a wonderful six days in Corsica, we drove the RV onto another ferry and headed to Nice, France.  This time, the queuing and boarding process was orderly and actually made sense, although running two hours behind schedule.

They really cram vehicles in there, don’t they?

We checked in and made it to our cabin, only to find that the bunk bed where Hannah was to sleep was folded into the wall and locked.  Shawn stepped into the hallway, flagged down one of the crew and asked if he’d unlock it for us.
He said that he would.
FOR TEN EUROS.
Now listen. Ten euros is equivalent to roughly thirteen American dollars and there was no way I was going to give him even ONE RED AMERICAN CENT to unlock and open a bunk bed in a cabin for which we’d already paid in full a month ago online and via credit card. 
When the young man held out his hand for the ten euros, Shawn gave me side eyes and it was all I could do to not laugh out loud because it was so obvious that what he was up to was just some old fashioned hoodwinking.  Since we weren’t falling for this bit, Shawn went to the reception desk, told them that we reserved a room that slept three (he left out the part about the ten euros because we were still in Corsica and remember, MAFIA) and we were told we could move to another room.  Because that would be easier than just unlocking and opening the bunk bed for us, right?
So Shawn went to the new room only to find that it was already occupied by another family.
And the dad opened the door in his underwear.  So that was like, you know, the jackpot.

In the meantime, another crew member came to the original room and when I asked, he unlocked and opened the bunk bed for me.  For free.  That’s zero Euros or American dollars.

We were finally in business.
After all the shenanigans and a good sleep, we woke as the ferry approached the South of France.

We disembarked, drove through Nice and headed up the coast.

We didn’t stop until we came to a costal town in Italy called Savona.
We arrived at the campground and found the entrance to be quite small and Shawn was worried that we wouldn’t make it through.  At one point, there was less than an inch of clearance on either side of the RV, but we made it in.  We set up, changed into our suits and headed to the beach.

It was a pebble beach – not at all what we expected – and in a little cove so there were no waves.  But it was packed with Italians of all ages, sneaking in the last bit of summer before school starts.  We swam, relaxed, ate pizza and then headed back to the RV.

The next morning we left for the final stop on our trip.

To be continued…

RV Life: Scenes from Corsica

We spent six of our fifteen days of vacation on the island of Corsica.
We visited three cities – Bastia, Porto and Calvi.
You can see pictures from Porto HERE.

Hannah and Finley: 5 years old and 5 months old.

The salt air and humidity did amazing things to Finley’s hair.

We ate all of our meals in the RV, except for one night when Hannah and I put on dresses and we went to dinner at a true Corsican restaurant.

We call her “Mother’s Helper.”

This is “Vacation Shawn.”
Totally relaxed and a few days worth of facial hair.

On this day in Calvi, we ventured into town and stopped for ice cream.  The shop owner came outside and sat down with us.  She didn’t speak much English, but she told me where in town to pick up groceries and the best place for fresh produce.  One thing I learned about Corsicans: they’re loyal to their island and don’t really feel much connection to France.  We told her we were Americans living in Luxembourg and a bit about where we’d been and where we were headed on our trip.  She said that she’d been to France and Italy, and with a wave of her hand, as if to dismiss both places, said, “But everything I need is in Corse.  There is no need to leave.”

On another day Hannah and I bought a red and white hair ribbon in one of the little shops.  We tied her hair back and after walking around for a while, we realized that it had slid out and was gone.  We retraced our steps, but had no luck so we went back to the shop to buy another one.  I explained to the shop owner that we lost the first one and wanted another.  She picked up the basket, took out a silky polka dot ribbon and handed it to Hannah.
”Un cadeau,” she said.  A gift.

Then I noticed this little sign and took out my camera to snap a picture.
“Eets ok, zee English?” she asked.
”It’s perfect,” I told her.

We wished we had a few more days to spend on this beautiful island, but we had reservations for the ferry to take us and our RV to the South of France.

To be continued…

RV Life: It Takes A Village

“As soon as I started to make that turn, I knew you’d be writing about it on your blog,” Shawn told me.

Oh, you mean this turn?  The one that was just a wee bit too tight and steep and caused the bottom of the back end of the RV to drag and scrape along the ground until it jammed and wouldn’t budge? 

We sure created a scene.  
Doesn’t it look like Shawn’s setting up to do some big presentation?  Or a magic trick?
Actually he was just getting his tools out, but apparently to the people of that small town in Corsica, it was fascinating.  Utterly fascinating.

And also - it makes it so much easier to get the skidplate of a 29 foot RV unjammed when you have an audience of people offering suggestions and shouting commands to you in French.
(Shawn told me it was called a skidplate, lest you think I am familiar with the undercarriage of an RV.)

I think the whole little town got involved. 
Do you see that car with the kayak on top?
The owner zipped it backwards down the street and told Shawn to get his tow rope because he was going to pull us out.
I probably don’t need to tell you that plan ended before it even started.

Oh, see that man kneeling on the right?  I like to call him Self Appointed Team Leader.  He pretty much named himself as the chief of this little project.  And the other man kneeling next to him?  Thank goodness for him – he was the only one in the bunch that spoke English.

There was a lot of noise, spinning of tires and general grinding of gears so I took the kids out of the RV and a woman who was watching the ruckus from her porch waved us over.  She and her husband invited us into their home until Shawn (and the rest of the town) could get the RV out.  At first I was hesitant because MAFIA but they soon put my mind at ease.  They spoke not a word of English, so we made do with my little French.  I learned that they’d been married 40 years, had adult children and grandchildren, had lived in Corsica their entire lives and rarely left the island.  Can you blame them?  I mean, look at the view from their porch.

Now, never mind my videography skills here, but pay attention to what Hannah asks.
If you can’t see the video, click HERE.

”What are they gonna do with that rock?”

This is where I started to get worried because if my engineer husband’s common sense approach and, you know, conventional tools had failed to dislodge the skidplate of a 5 ton vehicle and Self Appointed Team Leader was resorting to using A ROCK, well, this was probably more serious than I realized.

And by the way, the shouting you hear, that’s how Self Appointed Team Leader commanded the troops the entire time.  It was charming.

After about thirty minutes, they were able to push the RV backwards off of the skidplate and Shawn maneuvered it to a less steep part of the turn.   Once the RV was unstuck, the onlookers erupted in applause.  What I wanted to say was halleluiah and the Lord is worthy to be praised, but I didn’t know how to say that in French, so I said the only French expression of exclamation that I know:
Ooooh la vache! which literally translates to “Oh, the cow!” and is akin to “Holy Cow!” in English.

The sweet couple burst into laughter at my attempt at sounding like I know what I’m doing in French and I figured that it must’ve been the right thing to say for the situation.  They kissed us on each cheek, as you do in Europe and we were on our way.

To the people of that little town in Corsica: Merci mille fois.
Thank you a million times.
(And sorry for the burnt rubber.)

RV Life: Corsica and Also a European Version of The S’more.

Did you know that the island of Corsica has the highest number of murders per capita than anywhere in Europe?

I came across this bit of information while reading up on the island before our trip.
Upon further research, I found that it’s mostly mafia-related so we have nothing to worry about, right?
I mean, is the mafia really going to be concerned with some Americans driving around in an RV with German license plates?

After spending the night on the ferry, we docked in the morning and just like the embarkation, it was the most unorganized and chaotic thing ever.  Once we were off the boat, we regrouped and headed for Porta, which is on the other side of the island.  But we didn’t mind because this was our view from the road.

Once we got settled in at the campground we decided to go to the beach.  I wish I had a picture of the big, red umbrella, and more importantly, Shawn setting it up.  As he was putting the stake in the ground, an older man said to me, “Trop de vent. Trop de vent.”
To my American ears, the French words for “windy” and “wine” sound awfully similar and I thought he was asking if Shawn had had too much to drink.

And then the big, red umbrella blew inside out and lifted out of the ground.
I think he was trying to tell us it was too windy for le grand parapluie rouge.
So we walked a bit further down the beach to a little place with rocks along the side and set up the umbrella.  It was the perfect place to set up our spot for the day.

This guy loved it.

But soon he became powerless to the cool breeze and calming sounds of the ocean.

He napped for a few hours while Shawn and I took turns playing in the sand and waves with Hannah.

When we were worn flat out from the sun, sand and waves, we headed back to the RV.  Shawn grilled burgers while I bathed kids.  After dinner, we made s’mores and when Finley went to bed, Shawn, Hannah and I had a game night outside.  These are sweet, sweet memories.

And also, I had to get a little creative with the s’mores, because you just can’t get the right ingredients here.  I couldn’t find Hershey’s chocolate but I did find Reese’s peanut butter cups.  And the marshmallows here are far more sugary than in the US, so roasting them on an open fire was more like making bite sized crème brulee.  As for graham crackers, a woman at the little shop in Luxembourg that sells American and British items told me that these would be a fine substitute. 

And they were. 
So that’s what we had.  Crème brulee and Reese’s cups on a digestive biscuit.

Fancy.

Anyway, we’re packing up now and are off to our next stop in Corsica.

(If anyone from the Corsican mafia is reading this, we are NOT headed to the town of Calvi.)

RV Life: On the Road and On the Sea

Next we drove from Zurich through the Italian Lake area to Genova. 
I was totally keeping my eyes peeled for George Clooney.
I’m kidding. (Not kidding.)

The GPS said the trip was 5 hours, which is the perfect amount of time for our family to travel in one day.  We made a few stops for feeding Finley, eating lunch and just to get the kids out of their seats and stretch.

We made it to Genova, Italy earlier than expected, parked the RV and Hannah took a quick shower and Finley got a bath in the kitchen sink.  Because when else will they ever have the opportunity to bathe in an RV that’s parked on a ferry loading dock in Italy?  Never, probably.

This is probably going to embarrass him someday, but I couldn’t resist.  Because THOSE THIGHS.

From here on out, things just got harry.  Now, listen. I’m not picking on the Italian way of doing things, but getting on to that ferry was downright unorganized and chaotic.  It was basically a crowd of RV’s, cars, cars hauling campers and boats and also some straggling passengers that obviously missed the pedestrian boarding call, inching along in no line or order that made any sort of sense.  It also didn’t help that the man directing vehicles had the English words for “right” and “left” mixed up.  And then he just got fed up with his job and yelled out, “You go right.  You go left.  You go on vacation,” and threw his arms in the air.

We were asked to show our confirmation (I’m surprised they even asked) and Shawn showed him the email we had received with the confirmation of WP and then a bunch of numbers.  The YOU GO RIGHT YOU GO LEFT YOU GO ON VACATION MAN  shouted our confirmation into his walkie-talkie: Whiskey Papa 2013773004.

The Whiskey Papa family waiting to board the ferry
(Don’t worry – the kids are always buckled in when the RV is moving.)

We finally boarded and made it to our cabin, which, if I were being picky, I’d describe as a 1980’s broken down cruise ship stateroom.  But I’m not being picky, so it was certainly adequate for our needs.  We reclined the seat in Finley’s stroller, and put him to bed there.  The gentle rocking of the boat on the sea made the rest of us drowsy and we soon followed.

We woke to the sound of the captain announcing that the ferry was docking and to gather our belongings and report to our vehicles.

To be continued…