Wednesday 21st May: Depart Melbourne
Thursday 22nd May: Arrive Paris, Charles de Gaulle
Thursday 22nd May: Pick up hire car and drive to Amiens
Sunday 25th May: Drive to Puisserguier (Puècherguier), outside of Béziers in south of France
Saturday 7th June: Drive to Beaumont-du-Perigord in the Dordogne
Saturday 14th June: Drive to Orleans
Sunday 15th June: Drive to Paris
Thursday 19th June: Depart Paris
Friday 20th June: Arrive Melbourne
Friday, 25 April 2014
Six years later
Six years later Margot, having survived breast cancer and, most recently, open heart surgery, decided to resurrect our travel plans. So mother, 75, and daughter, 45, have passports in hand and are ready to travel again.
We depart on 21 May and are looking forward to immersing ourselves in French culture. However, the impetus for this trip harks back to September 1916 when Mother's father, Cyril Charles Clothier, enlisted in WWI (known then as The Great War) in 1916. As a result of his earlier working life in the family motor business (automobile, motorcycles and bicycles) in Warrnambool he was a prime candidate for a driver during the war. He drove a Ford ambulance and was responsible for evacuating the wounded from the battlefields - primarily in no-man's land.
Following in Cyril's footsteps on the Western Front has been a long held dream of ours. He was awarded a Military Medal for gallantry on the field at Amiens, north of Paris, for two incidents. The first occurred on the ninth of August 1918 from the eastern side of Harbonnieres outside of Amiens and the second occurred on the night of the eleventh and twelfth of August 1918 whilst he was evacuating wounded from the village of Vauvillers.
We will spend several days in Amiens and its surrounds and expect it to be a very emotional time for us. Cyril never talked about the war, which was common amongst his fellow servicemen. Not only did he have to live with the terrible memories of that time, he also had a permanent physical reminder in the form of shrapnel embedded in his leg.
The other driving forces behind this trip is Margot's love of painting and Catherine's obsession with photography.
We have had the pleasure of travelling together before in Europe, albeit 25 years ago. First, a 4 week road trip (Mother was the impressive sole driver of a VW campervan) around Europe and Scandinavia to revisit Norway where Catherine had lived for 12 months and attended school at Røyken videregående as a 16/17 year old. The highlight of that visit to Norway was attending wedding of close friends, Lene and Peyman on mid-summer eve on a boat on the Oslofjord. It was a truly magical experience as was the trip itself. Following this, we spent an additional 2 weeks travelling around Ireland (again, a road trip where Mother handled the narrow winding roads brilliantly!). It was an amazing experience to visit the land of our forebears.
We depart on 21 May and are looking forward to immersing ourselves in French culture. However, the impetus for this trip harks back to September 1916 when Mother's father, Cyril Charles Clothier, enlisted in WWI (known then as The Great War) in 1916. As a result of his earlier working life in the family motor business (automobile, motorcycles and bicycles) in Warrnambool he was a prime candidate for a driver during the war. He drove a Ford ambulance and was responsible for evacuating the wounded from the battlefields - primarily in no-man's land.
Following in Cyril's footsteps on the Western Front has been a long held dream of ours. He was awarded a Military Medal for gallantry on the field at Amiens, north of Paris, for two incidents. The first occurred on the ninth of August 1918 from the eastern side of Harbonnieres outside of Amiens and the second occurred on the night of the eleventh and twelfth of August 1918 whilst he was evacuating wounded from the village of Vauvillers.
We will spend several days in Amiens and its surrounds and expect it to be a very emotional time for us. Cyril never talked about the war, which was common amongst his fellow servicemen. Not only did he have to live with the terrible memories of that time, he also had a permanent physical reminder in the form of shrapnel embedded in his leg.
The other driving forces behind this trip is Margot's love of painting and Catherine's obsession with photography.
We have had the pleasure of travelling together before in Europe, albeit 25 years ago. First, a 4 week road trip (Mother was the impressive sole driver of a VW campervan) around Europe and Scandinavia to revisit Norway where Catherine had lived for 12 months and attended school at Røyken videregående as a 16/17 year old. The highlight of that visit to Norway was attending wedding of close friends, Lene and Peyman on mid-summer eve on a boat on the Oslofjord. It was a truly magical experience as was the trip itself. Following this, we spent an additional 2 weeks travelling around Ireland (again, a road trip where Mother handled the narrow winding roads brilliantly!). It was an amazing experience to visit the land of our forebears.
In the beginning...
...there were two francophiles: mother Margot and daughter Catherine.
On the first day France beckoned. They were filled with the urge to traverse the globe and embrace fromage bleu, vin rouge, haute couture and landscapes worthy of Margot's impressionist brush and Catherine's appareil photo. They imagined this and it was good.
On the second day passports were dusted and airline tickets purchased. They saw this and it was good.
On the third day suitcases were brought in from storage, clothes laid out and travel plans finalised. They saw this and it was good and their joy was palpable.
On the fourth day a tiny lump appeared upon the breast of the Mother. It was felt and it did not feel good and her terror engulfed her.
On the fifth day a breast cancer diagnosis was confirmed. They saw this and it was not good and their joy subsided into devastation.
On the sixth day all travel plans were cancelled. They saw this and said it was not meant to be.
On the seventh day they rested. Margot upon a hospital bed. Later to be called a cancer survivor.
On the first day France beckoned. They were filled with the urge to traverse the globe and embrace fromage bleu, vin rouge, haute couture and landscapes worthy of Margot's impressionist brush and Catherine's appareil photo. They imagined this and it was good.
On the second day passports were dusted and airline tickets purchased. They saw this and it was good.
On the third day suitcases were brought in from storage, clothes laid out and travel plans finalised. They saw this and it was good and their joy was palpable.
On the fourth day a tiny lump appeared upon the breast of the Mother. It was felt and it did not feel good and her terror engulfed her.
On the fifth day a breast cancer diagnosis was confirmed. They saw this and it was not good and their joy subsided into devastation.
On the sixth day all travel plans were cancelled. They saw this and said it was not meant to be.
On the seventh day they rested. Margot upon a hospital bed. Later to be called a cancer survivor.
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