Now we have found a pitch in Veulettes-sur-Mer on the Normandy coast. The cliffs are dramatic and the wind is so strong that the motorhome door flies open when you open it. The sea is spraying fradga and a lone kite surfer is enjoying himself at high speed on the waves.
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We have now driven from Gothenburg to France. Night-black motorways through Denmark, windy sea between Rödby - Puttgarden and mile after mile together with all the trucks through Germany. Then some confusing roundabouts through Holland, driving on freshly lit motorways through Belgium and then into France, where we now drive among villages and cows in the countryside.
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