The Silk Route Motorcaravan Club.Bulletin 115.May 2004. |
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Tunisia: Our Highlights. |
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Like many members, we went to Morocco - to wear out our tyres! - slightly more than a year ago. Our 4x4 enables us to get away from tourist routes and we had a fantastic time, especially in the Sarho region. Since you don't find much mention of Tunisia in our bulletin, and since we had wonderful memories of Tunisia from 22 years ago (how time flies my Old Dutch!), we decided to go there for a 5 week trip in February 2004 to see what remained of the old place. Other than the fact that it was really cold (one morning, we even had ice on our bedroom ceiling), we are now returning home with lots of wonderful memories, of scenery, of places, of special people. So we can't resist sharing with you four or five of our highlights. NOTE: we travel in a 4x4, but here we have only described encounters which are accessible to all motorcaravans. Of course we had other great moments which are only accessible in a 4x4. Sometimes we got there on very very hard tracks, so if anyone is interested, they can contact us. We will gladly share our information, notably regarding Tatouine where there are certain troglodyte villages (now abandoned) that are really worth visiting. *Boat from Genoa to Tunis where we disembarked at 20.00. The nearest campsite is about 20kms away to the south at the commune of Hammam Lif (N36(42,754/E10(24,39). Considering the time, there was no point in being fussy, but luck was on our side! This campsite, in the shade of tall palm trees is very little used and we stayed there all alone, for 2 days on the outward journey and the same on the return. A couple of metres from a superb beach, and hour or so from Tunis, and especially because the warden, who does not speak a word of French (really... not one word!) is extraordinarily kind. We had only been there a quarter of an hour when he presented us with a little bowl - a few dates, a few olives, and a little bottle of olive oil (zit zituoun: it too three days for the meaning of 'zitoun' to dawn on us [it hasn't dawned on me yet. Ed]). This good man has nothing and he gives us what little he has with such warmth and without expecting anything in return. If you should go there, don't fail to say hello to him. *Dougga (N36(25,111 / E9(13,233) is probably one of the most extensive and best preserved Roman cities in the whole of north Africa (Tunis is very rich in Punic and Roman remains). More than anything lese, this country is still 'natural'. The Tunisians still harvest olives, ten their goats, gather medicinal herbs in the traditional way, and the Roman aqueducts still provide water for the site. As we arrived at 17.00, the wardens suggested we pay for the visit on the next day and allowed us to go in an spend the night close to the ruins, telling us that we would be very well protected since the guards walk round regularly during the night. Of course the first team on watch offered us the inevitable mint tea as a sign of welcome. Waking up at the foot of the 'theatre', and our visit in the early morning, at our own pace and on our own, are unforgettable moments. *The mountain oases north of Chott and Jerid are a 'must', but you have to come back (or set off) along the road linking Redeyef to Segdoud (N34(18,662 / E7(56,483). In our view, this is the most beautiful road in Tunisia with a descent down a sheer cliff worthy of the best tracks Morocco has to offer (the photo [in the printed bulletin] is bout a pale reflection of the real thing: we promise to do better next time!). Moreover, there are two routes, the old and the new. Take both of them; it's not a long way and it's really magnificent. *Ksar (Ksour in the plural)... there were examples of these throughout almost the whole of Tunisia. They are vast, public, fortified granaries, the best conserved being in the south. And that is very fortunate, since at Tatouine, there is no campsite, but 16kms away on the Gomrassen road, there is ksar El Fresh which is very well preserved (N33(00,395 / E10(20,511) with a very nice young crew who run a bar in a gorfa (granary cell). They le us stay within the enclosure with our van and provided us with security, water and WC for a very small fee. Naturally we took tea and coffee at the 'bar', but half of the time they gave us it for nothing. (Be sure to go there before they go bankrupt). There are so many lovely sights around Tatouine that we went back there nearly every night for a whole week. *Laasad is the name of a young Berber who is developing a line in 'sand roses' (N33.2300 E8.1050) on the Douz-Nefta road south of Chott El Jerid. Go to see him in the late afternoon. He will explain it to you, show you his work, and invite you to spend the evening with him. He is a real scholar. You are guaranteed a very lively discussion and in addition, the desert sky is truly wonderful. You'll be allowed to see 'Sahara bread' being made: he cooks it for you in the sand, and for a few dirhams, he will prepare a meal which you can share with him in his Berber tent. As a bonus, the morning brings coffee and pastries. No matter how early you rise, he'll be up before you. And of course we filled up our vehicle with pink sandstone most of which he gave us for free. (Choose carefully: some of the pieces weigh several tons! It's truly impressive!). *The Kerkennah Islands, opposite Sfax. 5 dirhams for the crossing, ourselves plus the van. It's a haven of peace par excellence. Hardly any tourists, a gentle very quiet people, just like their environment. All is serene. In answer to the question "Can we park here?", you always get the same answer: "You are welcome. Make yourself at home. Do what you like?". And of course nobody, not even a child, asks you for anything whatsoever. Their help is both spontaneous and disinterested. Bivouac opportunities are plentiful, and you can fill with water in the fishing ports. The feloucas are truly lovely and you are welcomed with the same kindness as everywhere else. We went there for one day, and stayed for four. Go to see Farat, the man in charge of the port of El Ataya. You will never get tired of conversing with him. He is a true philosopher. everybody knows him and he knows everyone so he is a mine of information. Elisabeth and Claude D'Amato |
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Don't Go To Mexico - Not |
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We're back in the USA after just over a month in Mexico, and the weather is cold and wet - why on earth did we leave the lovely hot Bahia Kino? We had a really good time and plan to go again this November and see some more of the country. For our first trip we drove 1000 miles down the Californa Baja to the bottom, then took a ferry to the mainland and drove back up the gulf coast, doing the Copper Canyon by train as a sidetrip. When we told people in America we were planning to go to Mexico a lot of people warned us not to, or at least not on our own. We were variously told that we'd be held up by bandits, that the roads were narrow and dangerous, with bumps the size of polo ponies and drainage ditches so deep we'd ground in them, to take spare wing mirrors because on-coming lorries would hit us, that the fuel had so much sulphur in it that we'd have to change our fuel filters several times, that the electricity supply was dangerous and voltage fluctuations would fry our refrigerator electronics, that we'd be cheated at the petrol stations, that the army searchers for guns and drugs would steal things, that we mustn't put Mexican water in our tanks so we'd not be able to use our own bathrooms, that fuel would be hard to get and very expensive etc etc. None of this turned out to be true. The worst that happened was that our fruit was confiscated when we crossed state boundaries within Mexico, but when we crossed back into the USA the US customs took almost everything! We didn't meet any banditos, though the Mexicans look very authentically villainous, like Charles Bronson in a sombrero, and we did see lots of real cowboys herding cattle on horseback. Everywhere we went the Mexicans were really friendly and helpful. We felt much more menaced in Miami than at any time south of the border. The roads on the Baja ARE narrow, with no hard shoulder and huge drops-offs without barriers to stop you going over. They were however no narrower than an English B road, so you just have to drive precisely. There were many thousands of crosses and small shrines put up by grieving relatives to note road deaths which tend to aid concentration. Peter started saluting each one, and then regretted it, there were so many. No lorry hit us, they were well-driven - but we clipped one in the queue for the border on the way back. He was stationary at the time, so we paid him $40 for a new mirror, as it was our fault. Our new mirror cost us $2, so he did quite well out of it. The roads do have damaged patches, but nothing like as bad as Nova Scotia. We found it easier to buy diesel than in America, where more than half of all garages do not have it, could find nothing wrong with the quality, and it was cheaper than in the US! The topes (bumps) do need to be watched out for, but are mostly well marked in advance, and we didn't have any problems with the vados (fords) though I imagine in the wet season it might be impossible to cross a lot of the rivers. The Mexicans do economise on bridges. Peter made up a special 2-prong plug with its own earth wire to rectify dangerous wiring, which we only had to use once, and we bought a voltmeter and left the fridge on gas if the voltage was too low/high/fluctuating. We put bleach in our fresh water tanks, and filtered it at the tap end to take out sediment, and at the drinking end to take out the taste of chlorine. This worked fine, except that our hair went green (joke)! The main complaint we had was about these huge caravans of RVs, 25 or more all travelling together, filling up the campgrounds, taking all the fuel, hogging the centre of the road. We were really pleased we didn't join one - they can cost $5000 more than you'd pay doing the trip by yourself, and you have to do as you are told all the time. No thanks. Mexico reminded us of Spain in much the same way as the US is like England. i.e. it shares a language and a religion, but not much else. The Mexicans are much more placid than the Spanish, you don't hear them shout or see them gesticulate. It must be the intermixing with the Indians, who tend to be not excitable at all. Mexico gets nicer as well as warmer the further south you go. Once we got half way down the weather was warm but never boiling hot. We did use our catalytic heater the first few nights in the north. The area near the border is not nice. We were shocked at the third world poverty in the shanty towns, like India or South Africa. However the agriculture looks very efficient and modern - huge neat farms, all irrigated, which doesn't fit with the squalor in which most people live, presumably the cultivatable land is owned by big companies. As well as some very scenic roads we drove through a lot of real desert, forests of giant cacti of hundreds of varieties, and an area of hills made of giant boulders. On our way down the Baja the road kept zig-zagging from one side of the peninsular to another. There is one notorious "petrol gap" of 400 miles in the Vizcaino desert (if you take a side trip to the beach at Bahia de los Angeles as we did) - most people take extra cans (we have an auxiliary tank which carries 20 gallons) and an entrepreneur was selling fuel out of the back of a pick-up truck at the half way point. All the petrol stations are owned by the government, and we can't think why they have left such a hole in the coverage. We also got good at eking out our water which is scarce in places - making 50 gallons last 4 days if we are on a beach, without going to the extremes of washing in salt water. When we got to Guerrero Negro we took Camilla out to Scammons Lagoon (the local name is Ojo de Lievre - rabbit's eye) called after a 19th century whaler who almost made the grey whale extinct there. Stocks have recovered, and we went out in a small boat for a couple of hours to see the whales, who gather there December to March to calve and mate. The lagoon was full of them, we must have seen hundreds, many mother and calves very close to us. The calves are born at 12-15ft in length, and do synchronised swimming with their mothers. A delinquent calf came up under our boat, causing it to lurch alarmingly. I could have touched it had I not been hanging on, and then drenched us all with whale breath. It was a wonderful experience. We had parked Camilla on the beach for the night, overlooking the lagoon, and could see and hear whales spouting for miles. In the morning (at 6am) there was a mist, and we could hear the whales but not see them, however they sounded awfully close. I went out and was alarmed to find the tide had come up to within 10 feet of Camilla's wheels, and was rising fast. We had to make a sharp exit, which required building a bridge of stones over a trench that some people had dug to stop us parking on the beach, Peter having taken Camilla over what appeared from our side to be a small hump the evening before. We did note that 4 out of the 5 campamientos we passed on the way out were flooded all the way to the road, so possibly it was an exceptionally high tide. The tides in the gulf and lagoons were very odd and we could never predict when high tide would be. I foolishly volunteered to drive the 17 miles of washboard [= corrugated road] back to the asphalt road. The washboard would be alright if you could go at 60mph, which the cars do, but we fear that Camilla would be shaken to pieces in getting up to that speed, so we took 2 hours to do it. The worst thing was the sand dunes which had built up across the road in places - no more fantasies of driving the Mitsubishi Service Truck in the Paris-Dakar rally, this was the real thing, with Camilla slewing [= sliding] sideways as her wheels were grabbed by the sand and then twitching the opposite way as she regained traction. After that we stopped overnight at some really interesting and pretty towns, or rather inched our way [= drove very slowly] through the narrow streets. The Baja was settled early by Jesuit missionaries, and they built some wonderfully large churches, which are still in use. San Ignacio is the first one we came to, a shady square with this huge 17th century mission on one side, such a change from the shanty towns of the north. If we'd had a 4WD vehicle we'd have driven up into the hills there to see some 11th Century cave paintings (pre-hispanic, therefore prehistoric). The next town was Santa Rosalia, which we took Camilla into by mistake. I then had to walk round to find a feasible way out for her, and it wasn't easy. It's a former copper-mining town, with mostly wooden buildings with wooden sidewalks and verandas, so a shady feel to the streets. the post office is very wild west [= like in the cowboy films]. It is famous for its prefabricated iron church designed by M. Eiffel of the tower fame for the 1889 Paris World Fair and shipped around Cape Horn in a sailing boat in 1896 and reassembled on the spot it now stands on. We went into it and it has beautiful stained glass windows. The French also bequeathed the town the best bakery on the Baja. After that there is Mulege, famous for its diving, and an old fort which served as a prison for particularly dangerous criminals from all across Mexico and was in use up to 1975. It is now a museum, and what a terrible place. The cells were tiny, and prisoners slept on the concrete floor until they had earned the right to a bamboo mat as a bed. After that we found an idyllic spot on a beach on Bahia Concepcion for 50 pesos a night (about £2.50 [= €4]) where we stayed until driven out by the need for water. It was warm enough to swim and no wind or waves to spoil it. Then the town of Loreto, once the capital of the Baja, with yet another huge ancient mission church and a museum with lots of things owned by the Jesuits. That's the end of the nice towns on the Baja, until we rounded the tip and came up to Todos Santos, an artists' colony on the Pacific coast. La Paz is the capital, and not a place you'd want to walk around at night, and the Cabos on the southern tip are 'Gringolandia' [= the land of the Gringos, ie Americans] at its worst. This is where many Norteamericanos have chosen to buy holiday homes, and is a strip development along the coast of time-shares and big hotels. Apparently 25 years ago it was unspoiled. We didn't stop. The Pacific coast is being built up, but slowly and with low-rise villas with large plots of land, so is much nicer. We took a night-time car ferry from north of La Paz to Topolobampo, near Los Mochis, in Sinaloa province. The ferry is mostly to carry freight. Loading was a laugh. The articulated lorrries had to go in backwards, which made us a bit anxious. Camilla tends to tread on her own mud flaps if she has to go backwards over ramps and things. In the event we and the only other RV were allowed up forwards, taking a snake-like path to avoid grounding too hard, and then backed to the stern of the top deck. We had paid for a cabin, but nobody came to turn us out, so we turned off the lights, locked the door and pretended that no-one was at home. So much more comfortable, and with our own loo and fridge. When we heard truck engines the next morning we got up, showered and breakfasted, and pretended we'd just come back from a night in our cabin. The people in the other RV had obviously sat up all night in lounge seats and looked terrible. Driving out of the port the next morning, Peter could hear a clunking sound that was not explained by the state of the road. On stopping we found a large wedge shaped rock stuck between our rear dual wheels. Fortunately we hadn't gone very far or very fast, and Peter removed it without having damaged the tyres. We had heard of someone who picked up a stone in similar circumstances and burst BOTH tyres. We then drove inland to El Fuerte, an old colonial town of much charm and narrow streets. Unfortunately the dual carriageway shown on our map did not seem to exist, and the ordinary asphalt road which we should have been on was being repaired. So we did 77 miles on dirt road detours, some very marginal [= very difficult to drive], through peoples' back yards, scattering chickens etc. Camilla felt very large and intrusive on these tiny tracks. Obviously we couldn't turn round, and when the detour routed us under a low bridge had to go on. We would have stopped even if we couldn't turn if I'd remembered in time that Camilla is 3.25 metres high, and the bridge was marked 3.2 metres, fortunately inaccurately. There was a terrible graunching [= scraping or scratching] sound and we feared we had torn off the air conditioning unit. In fact we were lucky and had only scratched it, but another RV which stopped in the same campground as us that night had done the same thing and torn a huge hole in his roof. From El Fuerte we took the famous Copper Canyon railway 280 km (and 8000ft up) to Creel in Chihuahua province, leaving Camilla behind. This is one of the great railway journeys of the world, as the Copper Canyon is 4 times longer than the Grand Canyon in Arizona, and 2000ft deeper in nine canyons (out of 20 in total). The railway was started in 1877 and finished in 1961, due to construction difficulties, revolutions, civil wars and manana. It is built alongside a river all the way, but is often 300 ft above the river bed, strung on the side of the cliff. Rather disconcertingly we saw several freight cars at the bottom of ravines which had obviously fallen off the track at some time in the past, and on the way back we saw 2 more which had definitely not been there when we went up 2 days before!. The scenery is spectacular, with 86 tunnels and 39 bridges, and places where the track does a circle or even a figure of eight to gain height. It took 8 hours, an average speed of 35 kph. It wasn't any quicker on the way back downhill, and probably much more dangerous. At Creel, which is as high as you can go, we broke our journey and stayed 2 nights in a grotty [= very bad] hotel. With Camilla we have become very soft [= do not like difficult conditions] and luxury-loving. I would be reluctant to go back-packing again if it meant suffering the deprivations we put up with on our first round-the-world trip. Creel itself is a dusty cold and windy railway town, but in our 1.5 days there we managed to fit in a couple of half day trips in the surrounding countryside. We found a guide/driver called Oscar, who turned out to be (at least partly) a Tarahumara Indian, even though he was over 6ft tall and broad. He had lived in a Tarahumara village until he was 5 and spoke their language. He took us to see some Tarahumara still living in caves. The women dress in very bright patterned clothing, mixing up patterns in a way that would look bizarre if we did it, but with their stocky build and dark complexions looks just very colourful and charming. The men wear head bands and loin cloths, and are famous as runners, playing a relay game with a wooden ball which they kick, running for 40 hours non-stop and covering up to 200 km. One thing we found out is that there is no such thing as a typical Mexican, though there are "archetypal" Mexicans. Some are tall and blond, and must be of pure Spanish blood. Then there are pure blood Indians of many different tribes, all looking very different. The Tarahumara is only one of the many we came across, all still speaking their own languages and with different traditions. The government provides free primary education, but not many Indians take up the offer for their children, and it is apparently unenforced, so the Indians do not change much. Most people are a mixture of Spanish and one or more Indian tribes. We also ought to mention that we were impressed with Oscar's driving. We drove up flowing rivers and across hugely bumpy terrain in his car, grounding occasionally, without coming to grief. The next day Oscar took us to several canyon viewpoints which were truly spectacular, with drops of up to 7000ft to the valley floor. The climate on the bottom is sub-tropical: where we were standing there was still some snow on the ground, and at Divisadero where we got back on the train, it was snowing! Rejoining Camilla we returned to the coast and then drove along it for a bit going north until we turned inland again to visit a silver mining town called Alamos. This was once the capital city of a state called Occidente, a combination of 2 current states (Sinaloa and Sonora), and the richest town in Mexico due to the silver. As a result there are some very grand old buildings, palaces built by the silver kings, and a huge governor's residence. The town was deserted in the 1920s but since 1948 has been restored by rich Americans buying up the houses. We went on a house tour run by volunteer home-owners for the benefit of secondary school children. Our $20 sent a child to school for 2 years. One of the houses we saw was quite wonderful, owned by an American artist, with the original room proportions (large rooms with very high ceilings) and decoration, a carp pond, fountain, swimming pool, guest accommodation, built round a courtyard. We were surprised to hear that it would be worth less that $400,000 After Alamos we travelled up the coast again, stopping wherever there were campsites - further apart than we would have wanted - at San Carlos and then at Bahia Kino. To get to the latter, we had 77 miles of perfectly straight and perfectly flat road off the motorway, mesmeric and sleep-inducing as the presence of more little crosses proved. At Bahia Kino we stayed on the beach again, just yards from the water's edge. This was the best beach place we had been to, and it would have cost us £200 a month to stay there forever. Peter was tempted. We had power, sewage, water and a supermarket with wine within walking distance. What more could a man want? I note I haven't said much about wildlife. There are not many large mammals in Mexico, or none that we saw anyway, apart from the grey whales. We did see ground squirrels and scorpions and quite large monitor lizards, but there are lots of birds. The national bird is the crested caracara, a falcon type bird which catches snakes. We saw many of these and osprey, as well as the omnipresent brown pelicans and huge flocks of cormorants. The pelicans are very well-mannered. We saw a fisherman feeding 5 or 6 of them with fish guts, and they all stood on the gunwale of his boat waiting their turn, without snatching or grabbing. How unlike gulls - "Mine, mine!". At El Fuerte I was disconnecting our electricity cable when I felt a sharp buffet on my shoulder, like being hit by a large pebble. I turned round and there was a tiny green bird hovering about a foot from my head and humming with rage. They are brave and very territorial, and I'd obviously got too close to its nest. We think it was a black-chinned humming bird, though it might have been a costa's humming bird. At Bahia de los Angeles we saw a belted kingfisher and on a beach south of Todos santos gila woodpeckers. While we were waiting for the ferry at Pichilingue we saw a fishing boat literally festooned with magnificent frigate birds, at least 100 of them. The only mammal we had a close encounter with was a stowaway, a grey mouse that got on board at Todos Santos. He (we did so hope it wasn't a she) was terribly noisy and kept me awake half the night rattling round in the cupboards. Camilla must have seemed like a huge adventure playground, there are so many holes for cabling that a mouse can get through to get from one place to another without coming out into the open. One morning he ran over my hand, the cheeky thing. Although he was rather sweet we didn't want him to stay with us permanently, so at Creel we bought him some "presents", some peanuts and two ratoneras, one of the snap variety, the other the sticky sort which Peter said was too cruel. However when we got back we were relieved to find Senor Raton was no longer on board - possibly because we'd left all the food in the fridge or the microwave oven. We then did a long day (300 miles) to the border at Nogales. There we were inspected by the customs, but couldn't find anyone in the least bit interested in stamping our passports. We had to drive into the USA to park, and then walk back across the border to find the immigration service. No wonder there are millions of illegal immigrants. We could have got in easily without a permiso (though we would probably have had some grief when leaving the US by air without it). However the immigration officer was polite, friendly and gave us 6 months though we'd only asked for 2. Weird, after all the grief we had getting in to Florida and from Canada. Susie Markham. |
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South America. Continued. |
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Monday 1 March. The road south, the 14 which goes along the river Uruguay which, as its name suggests, is the border with Uruguay. Night at Cerro Azul. Tuesday 2 March. Near Santo Tome. We visit Las Marias, a huge estancia [estate] that grows tea and maté and exports it throughout the world. The mate is a shrub which looks like an orange tree. Its dark shiny leaves contain a substance with a bitter taste but a pleasant aroma. Its leaves, when roasted, produce the yerba mate which the Argentinians consume in vast quantities. Wednesday 3 March. On the road. Thursday 4 March. El Palmar park. Three days in this restful place by the side of the river Uruguay. We discovered animals such as the viscache, a huge brown rabbit found wandering round the tents and motorcaravans in the evening. It has a peculiar liking for the undersides of vehicles. The capybara is a type of huge otter living on the edge of pools. Some of these can grow to 65kgs. And lastly the foxes. who have a regular timetable and itinerary, eating the bread provided by tourists. Saturday 6 March. San Jose. Many Europeans - Italians, Germans, Swiss and French - came here about 1850 and built estancias with the help of the local council. the museum shows the start of this process, the contracts and the vehicles that were subsequently imported, one a 1910 Hotchkiss. Sunday 7 March. San Antonio de Areco. Another museum, where we met a French couple with their two little girls. They have come to set up an NGO [non-governmental organisation, voluntary group] for adolescents Accompanied by a French-speaking Argentinian couple who acted as our guides for the whole afternoon showing us the gauchos, their way of life, and all the traditional crafts - woodworking, leatherwork, silver- and copper-smithing. Tuesday 9 March. The Cina-Cina Estancia. Demonstration of dressage and of horsemanship. Parilla [big meat BBQ] with a group of 20 or so people, some being Canadians from Quebec and Montreal. Local music and dance followed. Wednesday 10 March. Tigre. 40kms north of Buenos Aires, a quiet little town on the edge of the Parana Delta. This town is made up of masses of large and small islands so you get about by boat. Each house has its own landing-stage. Luxurious vegetation surrounds all the houses, some of which, according to the guidebook), are worthy of Hollywood. Weeping willows line the shore. Sailing boats of all kinds... old mahogany launches, skiffs and kayaks belonging to clubs, huge ships like those on the Mississippi. Thursday 11 March. Trip on the canals, then Pierre and Lucette leave for BA to register [?] their motorcaravan and to catch the plane. They'll spend the weekend in BA. 14 and 15 March. With an all-inclusive ticket, we spend 48 hours in Uruguay. By boat from Tigre to Nueva Palmyre, then a bus as far as Colonia del Sacramento. On the River Plate dead opposite BA, there's a traditional smugglers' hideaway. Today, life is still cheaper than in Argentina. It's a place worth getting to know. Founded by the Portuguese in 1680, and handed over to the Spanish in 1777. Few traces of the past, only the harbour point with its lighthouse, a place where tourists are swindled. 17 March. We visit BA by train and get our tickets [home?] from Turner's shipping agency. We're told that the Grande Amburgo will arrive on the 25th and arrive on the 26th, a week later than the timetable. A meal in the Florida pedestrian precinct amongst buildings and busy Argentineans in suits and ties, and on their mobiles. Shopping, and a tango demonstration in the street by professional dancers. Sunday 21 March. We once again take the train to BA and join a City Tour. covering the main sights and different sections of the city. We liked the Boca, the old harbour district which has become the Pigalle of BA. On the quays of the river Tujan, we visit the Maritime Museum with many scale models of boats which played a key role in its history of conquest and re-conquest. This is the end of our land journey: the boat will represent a different 'special marine' way of life - but that's another story. Expected arrival home in France between 15-20 April, unless the sea prevents it. Françoise and Genevieve Petit |
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My One-Fuel Policy: Diesel Cookers |
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After reading the latest club bulletin regarding the problems some members have had with finding and filling up with gas (LPG), I began to think how lucky I was to have adopted a one-fuel policy, and I thought "How many members have heard of diesel cookers, ovens, and heaters?". All these excellent stainless steel appliances are made by a company called Wallas who supply the boat industry with heaters and cookers. They are based in Finland. Manufacturers: www.wallas.fi I have been using my cooker/hob for over two years which I think is long enough to have evaluated it. In that time, I have found it reliable. The fuel switch failed once, but it only took minutes to replace. I now carry a spare switch. With this cooker fitted in my new Land-Rover TD5, my strategy for the one-fuel policy is fully implemented. Heating and hot water is by 5kw Eberspacher. Cooking is done using a Wallas Safeflame 95DU diesel two ring ceramic hob which, with a hood and integral fan, doubles as a cab heater with six settings. Additional benefits for we campers: very low consumption of both electrical power and diesel fuel. I do not have an oven as such, because the last two vans I have owned did have gas ovens but were never used, and took up valuable space, so with my diesel hob I use a trivet which, with the lid on, functions as a mini-oven - and does the job well. Try cooking bread! One of the major benefits of using these hobs/cookers in campervans is that they only produce dry heat, so there is less condensation compared with that from LPG combustion which produces a lot of water vapour. These products are not cheap, but the best never is. Harry Foster. |
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