Not long back from a great ten days spent touring Brittany & Normandy in the camper. Our normal destination for a few days summer camping is Polzeath Beach (about 20 minutes away on the North coast) so this was quite a departure for us. Back in the winter when our good friends Bev & Jane (wonderful but foolhardy souls) offered to house/campsite/farm sit for the August bank holiday, we leapt onto the web a booked some ferry tickets before they had a chance to think it over. The kids were absolutely amazed when we announced that we were going to go “abroad” and the excitement was building all summer.

Now some of you might think that seven of us in a VW camper for ten days might not sound like much of a holiday and as the date approached I began to wonder if indeed it would be less a relaxing vacation and more a severe test of family unity. The kids said that was fine as long as it was hot and there was good surf. This I evaded with “Well it will certainly be hotter that here” - (not hard after possibly the worst summer on record).

And so we trundled off to Poole with every inch of the van crammed full of stuff and carrying a large tent and four surfboards on the roof. It was raining as we left and the crossing to Cherbourg (4 hours) was rough enough to give everyone a real sense of adventure (especially Cathy whose pallor by the time we landed matched the olive green paintwork of our van). But as we landed the sun came out and with minimal screaming as Cathy negotiated the first series of French roundabouts we were on the road and soon at the first campsite.

Having done all of the booking and planning I was going to be in for a hard time if the holiday didn’t live up the kids wild expectations and so I was a bit nervous as we approached. However, I needn’t have worried as it was a lovely clean campsite, with its own outdoor pool and footpath down to a secluded sandy beach where a handful of surfers were enjoying an evening in the waves.

I could go on and on about how wonderful the next ten days were but those of you who have already been to northern France already know it and for the rest of you I simply say – visit, it is a wonderful country. There seems to be so much space compared with our crowded Isle, you get a real sense of peacefulness. The roads are empty, the locals are friendly, the bread is always freshly baked and the butter is too die for…what more could you want.

By the time we had reached Carnac, my stock in the family had already risen appreciably. Here we had the inspired idea to hire some bikes to visit the various Neolithic megaliths in the area (always a high point in any Fairman Family holiday – just ask the kids!) and we finished the day on the largest sandy beach I have ever seen. It went on for miles and was only spoiled by the fact that we annoyingly had to share it with at least 5 other people, a dog and a horse.

How Newquay ever earned the reputation of the surfing capital of Europe I shall never know – if you like surfing then head for the west coast of France. Before we left I was worried that our latest eBay purchase (a nine foot longboard) would never get to see the water. As it was we had some of the longest cleanest surf we have ever experienced.

Back home and after two weeks of rain and wind and the holiday feel good factor is just beginning to wane a little. We have just reached the end of the stack of butter we brought back and I am suffering ‘moules’ withdrawal. Lets hope that Bev & Janes memories of the trials and tribulations of running South Penquite over a wet bank holiday begin to fade before next summer!