During the sleet of midwinter, my husband Tom and I planned a holiday. So did everyone in the country that week, I expect, considering the festive memories of December were fading like condensation on a wet car window. I couldn’t think of anything more exciting than travelling around France in our van – a country I’ve only ever seen in passing, never stopping for more than a can of Monster at a service station.
Our camper van is self-converted. Tom works for a camper conversion company, which is handy for me, because I got a beautiful bespoke place to stay out of the white workers’ van I bought in 2023. If you’re not convinced that campervan living is for you, let me tell you two things: firstly, there is a fridge in the vehicle, meaning you have access to ice-cold Diet Coke whenever you want, and secondly, I have never had a better night’s sleep. There is something about the bed being the size of the room that makes me feel like a fuzzy little bird in a nest. So, we chose to travel for five weeks, longer than either of us had ever done before on the road, mainly to see if we could, but also to microdose freedom for a little while.
If you are planning something similar, I’d advise having a rough idea of the places you’d like to visit, and also where you want to go once you’re there. There’s nothing worse than getting somewhere you’ve dreamed and then wandering about, very hungry and tired, because you didn’t check if it was a national holiday. I’m not suggesting planning everything down to the hour, but it helps to have a few places in your back pocket for when things don’t turn out as you expected. Sometimes we headed to a town simply because I’d marked a wine bar as worth visiting – they turned out to be some of the best detours of the trip.
France’s Autoroutes are studded every 20km or so with aires: places to stop, eat your sandwiches, and rest. We paused every two hours or so out of sheer necessity, as it was 38C in the afternoon heat. The journey from Caen down to the south of France, though long, was beautiful. After stopping overnight somewhere in the Loire, the landscapes began to change from the flat, agricultural patchwork of the north into vineyards, volcanoes, limestone rock formations, and the vast Garrigue of Occitanie.
Excited in my passenger seat now that the initial drive was almost over, I jumbled facts about the local wildlife and soil, getting excited about changes in rock colour and vegetation, and making mental notes for when we would be passing back through. A huge benefit to travelling by road is that you can see the map open up in front of you, and amend your plans to suit what looks most enticing.
The other bonus of travelling by campervan is you have no transfer times to abide by, no taxis to book. You can sleep overnight if the law allows, so you can get carried away at an unexpected wine tasting or a live music night. One of the easiest ways to follow the law when you’re in a camper, and, perhaps more importantly, avoid annoying any locals, is to book a campsite. In Leucate, the beachy seaside haven running coastside just north of Perpignan, we found a cheap, cheerful place to stop for a couple of nights so I could catch up on work and eat as many oysters as humanly possible. After I cleaned them out, we moved inland.
Since beginning my wine qualifications – I’m a hospitality professional at heart – I've wanted to travel to the Languedoc. There was always something about its thrilling wildness and the herbaceous aromas in the wine, echoing the Mediterranean greenery that grows from the rocky soil there. I have a thing for places others might consider bleak or barren. It’s probably got something to do with growing up near the Yorkshire Dales. You see a scrubland, I see five different plants and a long-tailed tit.
The descriptions I had read of Languedoc and the Garrigue – the moorlands that cover the area – did not do it justice. The thousands of shades of ochre and green against the heatwave sky. The rock formations jutting out of pine woodlands and towering over the road. I stuck my head out of the window and breathed in the scents of rosemary, lavender, tree sap, pollen. I was immediately spellbound.
Read more: This Scottish road trip made me fall back in love with campervan holiday
The main benefit of driving through the south of France is the sense of delayed gratification. By the time we stopped in the beautiful village of Lagrasse and jumped into the river, I didn’t want anything else. This was my life complete.
It was hot, and wildfire warnings were becoming more frequent, so after driving through Carcassonne, we headed to the cool altitudes of the Alps. By this point, my main concern was finding somewhere with a washing machine and decent showers. As fantastic as living day to day is for the soul, it can get pretty grotty when the facilities at overnight stopovers are lacking (or non-existent). In between the free spots you find on Park4Night, I would highly recommend booking a few nights in a row at a well-appointed campsite to reset, wash your hair, clothes and sheets, cook something more than jambon-beurre and support a local business while you’re at it.
We arrived in Chamonix-Mont Blanc and stayed there for a week to round off our tour. Our campsite was at the foot of the Bossons Glaciers, and when I say the view was life-changing, you have to believe me. On arrival, I got out of the van, sat on the first cool, green grass I’d seen since we set off from England, looked up at the mountain and cried.
The plan was to stop for three nights and move on, but I couldn't leave the mountain. Mont Blanc is truly unbelievable; I had never seen anything like it. For the majority of my time in Chamonix, I was looking up at the white-capped glaciers, in absolute awe.
This is what travelling is for, I think. To be stunned into silence by something you didn’t expect at all.
Where to stay
Camping Les Cimes, Chamonix
Around £30 per night. Clean, modern facilities with electric pitches available, stunning views of Mont Blanc and the Boissons Glaciers. Book here.
Camping Municipal Cap Leucate, Leucate
Around £25 per night. Large pitches available, most with electricity. Pétanque pitches and a public barbecue are available, along with clean facilities. Book here.
Camping Le Verger, Létraz, Annecy
Basic (token showers and bring your own toilet roll) but friendly and family-run, with some electric pitches. Easy access to Annecy by bus and bike. Price on booking here.
Recommended kit
- Cadac Safari Chef: an all-in-one gas stove that can also be a plancha, a barbecue and a stove top. I used it more than the induction hob inside the van because it was so easy to set up.
- Antibacterial kitchen wipes: you will use these for everything. Staying hygienic is essential in such close quarters, and biodegradable kitchen wipes make it easy to clean up after making food, or tidying after a day out in the mud.
- Alpicool fridge: made in various sizes to fit any van or car configuration, and when I tell you ours saved our life, I mean it. Being in an isolated spot and being able to take cold water out of the fridge was essential.
- Nice cups and glasses: you shouldn’t rely on camping mugs when you’re away for a while, as you’ll want your favourite coffee cup and a nice wine glass. Trust me.
Exploring Renoir’s secret Paris through the artist’s steps
France’s ‘Green Venice’ is perfect for beating the heat – and the crowds
I discovered hidden views of the Eiffel Tower by exploring this lesser-known neighbourhood in Paris
The French booze cruise is a 1,000-year-old tradition – how does it hold up today?
I hiked through the French Alps to discover wildflower meadows and pretty villages
I took a train through an underrated part of France – and tickets were less than £1
