Campsites may have got smarter but they still release your inner child, writes JOE HUMPHREYS
SO, I’M LYING on my back staring at my feet in the air. There is a spotlight overhead and I’m told to start wriggling my arms and legs. Music is playing and people are laughing. Just then, I notice my trouser legs have slipped down towards my knees to expose a pair of stripey blue socks. What was I thinking of? It’s 20 degrees in the shade. The music stops and I jump to my feet. No, this isn’t a kooky dream worthy of some Freudian analysis. It’s the reality of a package holiday in a French campsite. I’m one of a few dads plucked from the audience at the opening night’s show to imitate a cockroach dancing upside down as part of a musical chairs-style talent contest.
Why hadn’t I been warned that the spirit of Butlins is still alive on the Continent? Had the Keycamp rep properly briefed me about the prospect of some Hi-di-Hi! audience participation I would have at least worn ankle socks to the show, if not fashionable flip-flops, like some of the other contestants. Alas, it’s just one of the many things they don’t tell you about the campsite experience.
They don’t tell you that no matter what you’ve packed you’ll have forgotten something obvious – like freshness clips to seal food packets, a bathroom mat, or shopping bags. And who would have thought you’d need blankets in the summer in Brittany? Anyone who has camped there before, obviously. The rest of us were surprised to discover temperatures plummeted overnight and thus were forced to literally embrace the set of musty, chocolate brown blankets provided by management.
Here’s another thing they don’t tell you: on arrival you can expect to find a complimentary bottle of wine in your mobile home but no toilet paper. On departure, you’ll have a litany of injuries from living outside of your comfort zone (admittedly, I’ve a low threshold here; an en-suite shower and toilet still seemed like hardship to me). My casualty list on check-out included: index finger burnt on barbecue hood; big toe bruised from “aqua disco” in the pool; shoulder grazed from zip-wire crash-landing into a tree; and, of course, street cred in tatters from stripey socks incident.
This was the first time in more than 30 years I’d been to a French campsite, and things have changed quite a bit. In 1981, I was a kid, with no responsibilities. Now I have a wife and children. When I told a single friend of my holiday plans earlier in the summer he replied: “How very middle class,” which seemed a bit harsh. Middle aged, sure. But middle class implies safe and conservative and if I wanted that I wouldn’t take the little monsters more than 10 minutes from home.
The preparations started weeks in advance: ordering and installing a roof-box, assembling a breakdown kit and breathalyser (obligatory in France since November), checking travel insurance, and so on. Memories flooded back of holidays with my parents as we set off on departure day. And rounding the corner into Ringaskiddy harbour I felt a familiar tingle of excitement at seeing the ferry – in this case the Brittany Ferries Pont-Aven – for the first time.
Then, it was off to join a long queue of SUVs, people carriers and estate cars waiting to board, and already I began to fret about what I’d left behind. Even avec roofbox, our car looked decidedly puny next to the vehicles around us, which had swelled in height and girth from strap-on camping equipment, luggage and bicycles. Boarding together, we looked like a strange troop of insects beetling into our nest. “How very middle class,” my wife muttered, confirming this was going to be the catchphrase of the fortnight.
It is hard to know what to compare the ferry with. The last time I so travelled I remember it being a lot rockier; seats being harder to find; and the threat of someone getting sick never far away. It’s not clear whether the quality of ferries or my sea legs have improved in the interim but I can safely say the 12-hour trip to Roscoff was extremely smooth, the communal areas were very roomy, and throughout the ship was clean.
I can’t emphasise how delightful it was to discover this as someone returning to ferries after many years. The cabins in particular were pleasantly bright and airy. Other facilities were impressive: a swimming pool, and a decent, albeit pricey restaurant included. The one gripe was the scrum at breakfast time, with too few checkouts.
As a parent of a two-year-old, however, what you really want is onboard distractions. The toddlers’ soft play area was worth its weight in gold, and for delivering 45 minutes of transfixed, toddler silence, “Mr Tiz”, the balloon artist, deserves high praise.
We booked Domaine des Ormes, a four star campsite which came with a recommendation from a friend. It was only after arriving I read the Rough Guide’s description of it as “phenomenally luxurious”. Not an understatement from first glance. It is set around a lake in the grounds of a chateau 6km south of Dol-de-Bretagne, and features an equestrian centre, a golf course, three swimming pools – including one that creates its own tides, as well as a full size cricket pitch. For the deluxe experience, you can book a tree-top cabin or lakeside hut.
Typical of family-oriented sites, it is designed so you never have to leave the front gate. Kids clubs, adventure activities and an ever-changing programme of evening entertainment, right up to a weekend firework show, are all laid on. It caters to a broader demographic too. There are cycling and walking trails, as well as a lively nightlife, although noise in sleeping areas is barred after 11pm – a rule policed in our allotment by a stickler of a Dutch neighbour.
Due to ease of access, British and Irish holidaymakers are plentiful in Brittany, the latter visible in their usual idiosyncratic ways. The men carry hurls and sliotars for impromptu afternoon knock-abouts (even though their children look like they’d much rather be inside playing table soccer with the exotic locals), while the women shamelessly leave copies of Fifty Shades of Grey lying about the sun-beds. “HVMC,” you might say (“how very middle class,” had, by the end of the trip, become an acronym).
Brittany itself has a lot within a relatively small geographical area, although the lack of guaranteed sun puts off some visitors. Within a 30km radius of our site were the elegant, walled towns of Dinan and St Malo, not to mention Mont Saint Michel, best visited early in the morning before the narrow streets become clogged with tourist traffic. There are tons of interesting local sights too, ranging from the romantic Chateau de Combourg to the Menhir du Champ-Dolent, which serves as a reminder that you are in the province that brought you Asterix and Obelix.
What really stays with you, however, are the more mundane experiences. Watching the children play in gangs outdoors. Making new best friends on the campsite with neighbours. Ordering a crepe from the famously grumpy restaurant proprietor in the next village.
For my own holiday reading, I brought Missing Out by psychoanalyst and literary critic Adam Phillips, and it inadvertently provided some good advice for aspiring campers. Exploring the nature of fulfilment – dare one say, a very middle-class concern – it suggests “the fantastic quest for certainty” is no route to satisfaction. Instead go with the flow, allow for what William James called the “leaking in” of “novelty and possibility”, and retain a bit of madness and you might just be surprised by happiness. All I’ll say is doing the cockroach dance certainly worked for me.
Joe Humphreys travelled from Cork to Roscoff courtesy of Brittany Ferries
How to... Brittany
A number of tour operators provide camping accommodation at Chateau des Ormes, northern Brittany, with prices varying dramatically depending on type of accommodation and the season you go in.
A two-bed mobile home with Keycamp ( keycamp.ie) costs around €900 in low-season (May/June) for 12 nights.
This rises to €1,800 in the busiest parts of July/August.
There are extra charges on site for activities, and bike hire for adults is a steep €16 a day.
KelAir Campotel ( campotel.com) also has a strong presence at the site, while other operators include Welcome France ( welcomefrance.ie) and Hello France ( hellofrance.ie).
Typically savings can be made for early bookings with both tour companies and ferries.