Camp Zizkov

That same evening, we invite Jozka (and Helena, but she had blister) Jana, Paul, and Jirka for a little BBQ at our campsite location, and surprised everyone with what a nice little oasis there was in the middle of the park. The bar was well stocked and we spent a most pleasant evening entertaining our guests to a snapshot of our holiday.

Olympia Lunch

Next day we meet with Jana, Paul and Kath for a nice lunch before they all rush off, Paul and Jana to go the Zlenice where Paul is roped in with some building work, and Katherine to go and copy more order’s of service (which later change anyway). We head to the play ground, fall out over nothing because everyone is tired before trying to get back to the campsite. Well, not so simple. We try for the tram, but I realise that I have misread the map, and the have to take the 22 up to the castle to have a short walk to get the no 1 back. We make it up the hill, walk down to the no 1 to find it has been re routed as the roads are all dug up. Eventually we walk back up the hill, and do find the no 1 on it’s new route and head home.

Hamrak

We take the 136 bus to Sporilov and with a short walk past the sledging hill and the empty Hamrak Lake we meet up with Jozka, Helena, Mum, Anna, the video man, the video woman (both for the wedding), kuba, jirka, and later Katherine, Chris and the band/entourage. A few pleasant drinks and as we approach 11ish , we head up in the pitch black to try and find the bus stop. It takes a bit (lot) longer than expected, but eventually we find it, the bus arrives and we head back to our camper home for sleeps.

Railway lunch

We break for lunch, and make the kids day by parking next to the main railway station (little things!). This is the great thing about the camper, you can stop anywhere, have lunch, somewhere to sit and watch the world go by. Toilet and fridge at the ready and a place to wash up before we move on. We drive into Prague with no incident, only one U turn and arrive a Camp Zizkov to settle in for 3 nights.
As we did not have a picture of lunch, I chose the coins thrown into the altar area in the kostnice.

Kostnice

We stopped at Kutna Hora Kostnice (Bone Church) a couple of years ago, but because it was on the way, and because Elena could not remember it, we took a small detour and visited again. It is always an eye-opener to see the sheer number of skulls and bones and how it is all put together. The centre piece, the chandelier, is made up using every bone in the human body. Strangely it does not feel at all eerie, but actually quite a friendly and cheerful place as all the skulls smile at you from their various positions, smug in the knowledge that they are celebrated and not slowly rotting under the ground.

Velké Dářko

As for campsites we thought we had turned up to a dodgy commune. The place was unkempt, toilets disgusting the forest littered with toilet paper (presumably because the forest was a better alternative to the toilets!) and the lake had a strange green slime skin. It was interesting to see that when people went swimming, they brushed/splashed the slime aside to make a clean path to the better water deeper out. Still, we were only there for the night.
Morning came and transformation!
A heron was feeding on the other bank, the boats on the lake glistened in the early sun, and as we went for a walk, the view opened up into a rather nice large lake (slime was still there, but not so bad). We went mushroom picking with some success and the kids enjoyed the off roading on the bikes. Our opinion altered, we packed up and headed north.

Telč

After Třebič we are treated to Telč. We park up on the outskirts of town, and a five minute walk took us past the fish lakes (completely squirming with fish) into the amazing central square. The whole town is a Unesco protected heritage place and is picture postcard perfect. A very pleasant lunch and walk around (after a quick look up the clock tower) make for a very nice visit before we jump back in the van and continue to head north as we track towards Prague.

Wasps

Why are there so many wasps in the Czech Republic? Since we crossed the border, we have been plagued with wasps. Someone needs to undertake a research paper, is it loss of predator habitat, or is it particularly good wasp conditions. Either way, it is a pain in the backside.

Třebič

We pop into Třebič for a look around, and there are a few nice things of interest, but the main thing to remember is the cool little guitar that we bought. It is usually bought by motorbikers because it fits into panniers, but it is also great for kids. The guitars are great and much cheaper than in England. (although according to Jozka, they are even cheaper in America!) Town is soon explored and we head off for Telc which is meant to be better.

Trebic campsite

On the way to Trebic we see a Velorex 3 wheeler. Brilliant. We park up at the campsite in the hook of the river (eaten alive by mosquitoes – this seems a common theme since Graz, but in combination with wasps a particular Czech speciality). The place is nearly empty when we arrive, and is filled with weeping willows and surrounded by the cute little huts to rent. We are joined by a few other travellers (for some strange reason a dutch couple decide to park right next to us) and with a bit of guitar serenading from a travelling builder, we have our loaded cheese (nakladanej hermelin – delicious) and pickled herring (disgusting). The morning is spent starting my speech – nightmare – and preparing to move on.

Bitov Castle

The local castle is a 10 min bike ride, followed by a 30 minute walk up through the woods, and we are treated to a castle complex with the palace, the chapel, and more interestingly the dungeons. The torture chair is an especial hit with everyone, as is the russian ice cream, which is delicious between two wafers. Place is strange and has a mixture of old and fake old, but is a nice end to a pleasant (if steep) walk through the woods.

Bitov campsite.

Another nice (and in common with other Czech campsites – loud) site, again on the banks of the reservoir with good swimming. This time we are treated to something unusual, a lone trumpeter starts playing high up on the rocks overlooking the valley, serenading everyone for about half an hour. The campsite becomes and impromptu audience, clapping and cheering for an encore. It is a great sound as the trumpet echoes around the valley. We also have a nice campfire late into the night before settling down to sleep.

Cornstejn Castle

On the way through to Bitov we stop for a quick look at Conrnstejn. As is becoming our habit (because we are everywhere 2 hours later than planned) the place has just shut, but it is a nice setting and we have a wander around and a collective comfort break on the ruins.

Znojmo

The next day in our ongoing search for money we head the 22km to Znojmo, the main local town, and after finding the cashpoint, we settle down to a hearty meal and beer. The town is really pretty with a massive open square (not littered with cars, kiosks, seating or anything else – a real lesson in quality urban space) and loads of nice historic areas and old town walls. I place definitely worth visiting again and exploring further.

Typical Czech countryside

Miles of fruit trees on the side of the road is so typical

Vranov Resevoir

The campsite is like a stage set out of the 1970’s. It is bizarre, but somehow very comfortable. The only modern thing about it is the suspension bridge that spans one of the inlets. For us it is a nice break because the reservoir is warm so the kids can swim, the place is quite large and open and there is Czech beer. ( next day we find out that this place is listed as one of the best 24 swim areas in the Czech Republic and Slovakia) We are still on a shoestring because the cashpoint in Vranov is out of order, but we still have an abundance of supplies from England so no problems there.
At 9pm we are treated to the open air theatre playing a sequel to terminator very loud. It is a strange atmosphere sitting in a clearing in a pine forest watching a large projection screen with terminator. I think this would be the idea setting for the Blairwitched Project.

Vranov Castle

We turn up to Vranov a bit late for the castle, and being completely without money except for the camp fee, we wander around the nice old village by the river before returning to the van to move on round the other side of Vranov to get to the camping area.

Klosterneuberg

This must be the most fancy opulent monastry anywhere. Some much for the simple monastic life! The place is dripping with gold and candles burn everywhere. We turn up part way through mass just as they are chanting the readings. Eventually the serious nature of the place is shattered by Kai and Elena arseing about in the trendy cycle racks. A few hours later, tourism complete, toilet emptied, (I hate chemical toilets), water replenished and van readied we head up to the Czech border and towards Vranow nad Dyje.

Paris to Moscow

In the campsite we are treated to a rare treat there are 28 vintage cars (Citroen traction avant from between 1934 and 1957) all doing the 6000km round trip from Paris to Moscow. Both the cars and the original Citroen campers in support were brilliant. I want one.

Vienna traffic

We head north aiming for a campsite just south of Vienna, and we are disappointed to find the place empty and derelict. It was one of those 1970’s places that has been shut a while and looks really eerie and sinister. So we have a quick look at the map and see a place just to the north of Vienna. As we approach Vienna at about 6.30, the motorway is blocked and I take the very unwise decision to head through the centre of Vienna. BAD IDEA. 2 hours later we are completely lost in the suburbs to the west of Vienna with the place gone dark and loads of roads closed. I decide to call it a day and try to find the motorway to head north towards the Czech border and camp wild. As is always the case, as we eventually find the north road, the road to Klosterneuberg is signposted and at 9pm we roll into the campsite and just park up in a random empty pitch. We treat ourselves to the best Vieneschnitzel and bed down for a good nights sleep after a stressful drive.

Graz

Early up and early, the city of Graz beckons. Following the storm it is thankfully cooler and we enjoy the compact little city, taking in the old and the new before heading to the top of the hill in a lift carved out of the rock. It is a place full of architectural interest (the campsite owner tells us he has more architects and engineers staying over than any other profession!). The big blobby art gallery is OK (costs a fortune to get in!) and the funny shell thing in the river is also OK, but they do both look better in photographs than real life. A place definitely worth a more in depth visit.

Lightening Storm

We plan out a trip into Graz, and head for te town campsite called Central. An odd name for a campsite that is in the suburbs, still the bus no 32 was just outside the campsite and it was an easy trip in. Two memorable things about the campsite, firstly the 11,000 sqm outdoor swimming pool with pebbles and rocks at the bottom (complete with ducklings) and the most incredible lightning storm.

Minimundus

On our way north, we stop at the outskirts of Klagenfurt to have a look at Minimundus, the minature world. For something so tacky it is quite good, (bit too hot, but ice-creams sort that out). The models are fantastic, and it is 80 minutes well spent looking at the sights around the world.

Slovenian check point

As we tried to cross the border into Austria, we were stopped by the Slovenian police. We found out that you need a sticker in your windscreen to show that you have paid for driving on the motorways. A kind of toll. We were blissfully unaware, but as he explained the 600 euro fine, we became very stupid and apologetic. Eventually he let us off and we were shown where to go and buy the ticket for Austria (same rules there for the motorways). The car next to us was not so lucky and the car was duly photographed and the occupants fined. With our lucky escape, we head through the 8km tunnel back up into Austria.

River Soca

Next morning we are up relatively early and go for a walk along the river, the weirdest sight of the relatively warm air condensing over the icy cold stream meant there was a strange mist over the river. We wandered up along the river to where the rocks and waterfalls splashed away and were greeted with a series of crystal clear deep pools full of large trout. We watched some kayaks heading off down the river, (the area is renouned for the canyoning and extreme river sports), before we finally packed up to head north out of the mountains and into Austria.

Soca (Triglavski National park)

After our road building incident, we do eventually find the right road and drive along the canjon that is the Soca riverbed in the national park. Camping wild is frowned upon in the park so we find a campsite in the bend of the river, park up and head for the river and enjoy the wire suspension bridge. The water is amazing, and the sand is like being in the caribean. The only shock is how cold the water is. We have a little competition to see who can stay in the longest. We managed about 15 seconds before the pain was un bearable. Still, it was a beautiful setting and that night with no streetlights the stars were really sparkling.

Landslide

There have been some landslides, and after about 5km up this single track winding road (in places tarmac, in others just gravel), the road is so steep the van is struggling. We are also at nearly 2000m above sea level, so the performance of the van in the thin air has dropped off. There are no passing or turning areas aswe come round the corner to face a blocked road. There has been a landslide, and they are trying to fix it. It is going to be a problem, the road is steep and gravely, where there has been the landslide there is about a metre change in level and it is all soft gravel and loose stone. The scraper is out and we park up and chat with them in broken Slovenian.
It is agreed that they will try and get the road levelled out as best as possible, and that we should take a run up and go for it. 20 minutes later we are off, wheels spinning as we try to get a grip and up onto the ramp, we are about half way, the van is slowing up and as the wheels start to spin we bog down and stop. Nightmare. So were reverse back down, perilously close to the edge whilst they re build the road we have trashed, this time they call in a roller to flatten it a bit more, they also move the trucks so we can reverse further down the mountain for a longer run up.
So, nervously we back down the track, rev up and wheels spinning we speed up the track towards the flattened gravel trap, we hit the ramp and keeping full speed, we scrabble to the top of the slope, everyone cheers and we carry on up the mountain.

For about 500m when we come to a dead end at the mountain refuge. We have gone the wrong way!!!!! We toy with the idea of staying there overnight to save the embarrassment, but in the end we turn round and go back to the workmen, apologise, wave the map at them, laugh nervously and drive over their engineering works for the third time in 10 minutes. NIGHTMARE!

Into Slovenia

We left Leinz and after a spot of lunch near Villach, we headed off the main road onto a small winding B road that rose up the mountains, the pass at the top signified Slovenia and we dropped down a very steep mountain into the most beautiful and dramatic scenery we have seen on the trip so far. The roads are reasonably unkept but the place is charming. We pass through a strange military fortification, (we later find it is Italian) and at a junction in the road we head towards Soca. (We thought!)

Leinz

In the morning we cycled into Leinz with thousands of other bike mad people. It is like Holland but in the Tirol. Town is OK, but apart from having a pleasant town centre, not really worth noting. The only way we remembered the place when writing this blog was that it was the campsite we stayed on the outside of, with the man in the little tent encircled by Italian motorhomes. We also saw a great little remote controlled glider rising on the thermals.

Into Austria

As we leave Tirol Castle we go east (jo has her worst map reading lapse to date, but I won’t keep going on about it…but it was really annoying, we had to track back and everyone was hungry and…). Still we made Austria, were pleasantly surprised how cheap everything was after the incredibly expensive Italy, and thought how Czech everything looked. We clock into the campsite on the edge of Leinz, the wild camping is a bit limited in the bottom if a steep side U shaped valley (for you geographers) because the edges are too steep and the bottom too cultivated.

Tirol Castle

We head through Merano and park up on Dorf Tirol so that we can go and explore Tirol Castle. This is the castle that gives the Tyrol region it’s name and it was really impressive. It was a really big walk in searing heat, but at the top we were treated to the most amazing freshly pressed cloudy apple juice. I know it sounds bizarre, but it tasted really strange because it actually tasted of apples. As well as the castle itself, and self respecting architects will really enjoy the brutal core ten (rusty steel) interventions. The detailing was magnificent.

Algudo

After our enormous drive, we roll into Menaro looking for the campsite, passing a strange standing stone sculpture we weave up some small back streets and arrive at the poshest campsite ever. It is brand new and really spick and span. We also learn as we check in that we are not in Merano at all, but in Algudo! It turns out to be a fortunate mistake, as Algudo is really nice, and as well as having its own vineyards, it also has its own brewery. Well, first job is obviously getting hold of some local wine and the “Forst Beer”. No problems. I find a specialist wine shop and manage to get some red AND some chilled white that was grown in the field next to our campsite. I also manage to find an off licence and get hold of the beer together with some great stuffed pimiento peppers. This trip really is all about the food and drink. Also bizarly, even though we are in Italy, they all speak Austrian. All the signs are dual lingo and asking for stuff in German seems fine. In the morning we cycle down to Merano which is OK, a bit of a spa town that is kind of grand, but more for old people than us youngsters. One thing that struck us about this whole region was the apple growing. Every square inch of space if covered in apples, not in an orchard, but in rows of short trimmed tall trees. It seemed to work well and the quantity of apples was increadible.

Stelvio pass

So we make the Stelvio pass. In a Porsche, possibly the greatest driving road ever, in a camper – sweaty palmed hard work. The pass itself is wonderful (if a bit touristy) as from the saddle you can climb up even higher to get an amazing view down. It was higher than we expected at 2845m above sea level, from memory over twice the height of Ben Nevis. It was also a chance for the kids to play in some snow at the side of the road.

The journey actually took hours and we are now experts at turning the bus within inches of the rock face to one side and vertical drops to the other. It is especially fun when the barriers have collapsed and the edge of the road is cracked and falling away. Still we made it down most of the van intact and the knowledge that we conquered the pass.

I don't think it was what motorhomes were designed for, fan running to cool the engine on the way up, and brakes stinking on the way down.

Zernez

The cold campsite next to the river was a great location to explore the lovely little village. The kids chose the camp-platz next to the children’s play area and we had peace for hours on end. In the morning we headed up the hill to the super tall and thin little church that commanded the best views across the valley. More playing in the mountain torrents and we were off to tackle the Selvio Pass.

St Moritz.

And after our little cold water pit stop we head for the ultra posh St Moritz. It really is incredibly posh. Fur coats and white jeans appears to be de-rigour when shopping in Prada these days! The hotels are full of Rolls and Bentleys, and because it is a sporty kind of alpine place, the stretch limos have bike and ski racks on the roof. Fantastic. We park up by the lake (making use of St Moritz sailing club car parking, the only bit that seems to be free.) as I head into the main town to search out some decent swiss and Austrian maps for the next leg of our journey. Kids do a bit of acrobatics, and before we know it we are off again.

Glacial torrent

So after lunch we make it into Switzerland and immediately notice a few things: the place is cleaner – a lot cleaner, the roads are smoother, all the lights work in the tunnels, there are no adverts littering the roadside, people drive more considerately, they do not honk at random, villages have a start and an end and numerous other details. One important one for us, is that there are layby’s, something distinctly missing in Italy. We make use of one and stumble upon an amazing glacial torrent, complete with sparkling rocks and deer prints in the soft glacial sands. (It was also cold enough to undertake cryogenics!) It also had some interesting advice on a sign in the layby, (You are near a hydro electric dam, if waters rise rapidly – run away.”

Great Escape

So we are off back up north, the heat and intimidation of Northern Italy too much for us softies, and we are soon back in more comfortable territory. We check out the weather across Europe, and given that we are struggling with the 34 deg C in Italy, the 36 deg C in Croatia is one step too far. Unfortunately in some ways we decide to abandon Croatia for a cooler time of the year, and decide that heading up through Switzerland and Austria is the better part of valour.
Before long we pass Como and head up the winding valleys, stopping for a really nice lunch a few hundred yards from the swiss border where amongst other things we see the biggest spider web I have seen. A rough estimate put it at 3m in diameter!

Night on Lake Como

So our brief spell in the minging Italian Lakes nearly over before it starts, one of the memorable views was the evening lights across Lake Como. Fortunately the picture does not capture the rancid smell coming off the lake.

The Italian Lakes

We were really looking forward to the Italian Lakes - oh how we were disappointed. After the ups of the previous days going through France, Italy is a grotty little hole. Cities are great if you can fly there, and I guess the Umbrian villas are wonderful too, but driving from Aosta to the North of Milan is just horrible. Not made any easier by the lack of road junction numbers. It was also not helped by 37 deg C high humidity and no air conditioning but still – rubbish. The Italians appear to have either very little money or very little pride (or both) because everywhere outside the cities is dirty, unkept, covered in tatty advertising and for the bulk of the day shut in the name of siesta. I cannot get over how horrible driving through the towns was, especially compared to the pleasure of the French counter parts.
We at least thought that Lake Como would be great, again, what a nightmare, a metropolis of villas extending up the hills as far the eye could see with little way of getting near any of the water, certainly not in a camper where there was no parking available, so we ended up driving on only catching a brief glimpse of the much over rated and over developed highly polluted lake.
One small highlight whilst we were desperately trying to find a campsite was winding our way at random through a small village Bosisio Parnini (actually very nice) and ending up in a park by the Lake Pusiano. Given the heat, it was kit off and in the water.( i will get a picture up when I get it off Jo's camera)
Problem was that we still had no where to stay, this area is simply not safe enough to stay at the side of the road (a general problem in Italy) and there were no campsites around. Eventually I managed to get an internet connection and find a couple of sites about 20km further up the road. And there we found Camping de Riviera – it is just ghastly. I know we have been spoilt over the last few days, but it is just murder. We are now looking at the map of Europe and going to head rapidly north to exit Italy which has been a massive disappointment. It is too much like hard work trying to find safe decent places to stay.

Lac Du Beauregard.

Our next target sleepover was another dam, this time high up on the Italian side, a place called Lac du Beauregard. We wound our way up past the Italian ski stations until we were just below the glacier line along the narrowest little roads, cantilevered in some areas off the edge of the cliffs. Being in Italy there were no barriers, and in some areas where the road was crumbling away, there was just a bit of Herras fencing to stop you going too close to the edge! We were struggling to get anywhere to turn the van around, never mind finding a camping spot, until we can to a small turning circle that then became our home for the night. Whilst it was unusual, the location with Torrent Bouc that created a massive waterfall, the glaciers and the rugged mountains formed a very impressive backdrop to our stay.

Mont Blanc

Next morning we are up to the top of St Bernards pass, we pass the refuge that is now the border crossing with Italy and back down the incredibly tight winding road, brakes smoking and smelling all the way down until we reach the Aosta Valley floor and head to Courmayeur. Here we take the opportunity to take 3 cable cars to reach the Italian side of Aguille du Midi, at 3600m above sea level, it is as close as you can get to Mont Blanc without crampons and an ice axe. The temperature drop from Courmayour is increadible, 34 deg C at the bottom, 6 deg C at the top. The view is breathtaking, (as is the lack of oxygen) and one to remember from a bright summers day.

Lac Du Roseland

We carry on up the ever tighter hairpins towards the Rosland pass, aiming for the Lac du Roseland as our next sleep over point. It is a modest sized hydroelectric dam high built in the 60’s high up in the alps. Does not sound very romantic, but the scenery is unbelieveable. We camp at the edge over night with a view of the sun setting on the opposite side of the lake. The snow capped mountains in the distance, the last to capture the orange glimmer of sunset, are those of Mont Blanc. Those in the foreground are the Pass de Roseland, our route tomorrow towards Courmayeur and the Italian border. After the traffic has long gone, we get the bikes out and cycle across the dam, the Barrage du Roseland, towards our van and our campsite for the night.

Beaufort

South to Albertville before we peel off into the territory of the mountain goat, The van is relatively nimble and the never ending hairpins are dispatched with little fuss. We head higher and higher until we reach the little town of Beaufort. It is a pretty mountain village famous for its cheese. So, we pop into a local butcher who points us in the direction of the local “laiterie co-operative” where we are treated to watching them make the cheese, (big rounds nearly 2 feet across and 6 inches wide (600mmx150mm for our European readers,)) before we go downstairs and buy half a kilogram (a pound for our American and older British readers) of the stuff. It is absolutely fresh and delicious, a bit like a firm creamy Gouda with a bit more texture, nothing like eating the cheese straight from the local dairy. Even this high in the Alps, it is still 32 degC!

Annency camping.

Well getting a camping spot was a bugger. The place is rammed, something we became a bit spoilt with previously. So without any further ado, we head down to the lake for a swim. It was picture postcard perfect. The water was a greenish crystal clear colour, and we managed a swim just as the sun was setting on the opposite side of the lake. In the morning we fit in another swim under the steep mountains before we pack up and head off into the mountains proper.

Off to the Alps

And so, after a nice lunch in the shade of an avenue of limes in the centre of Sauvigny de Beaume, we head south for our next stage to Annency. Before long, we suddenly arrive at a tunnel, and as we come out the change in the scenery is incredible. The water is azure, the mountains steep and dramatic and the viaducts sweep across the valleys. It is a great introduction to the Alps in the summer, and strange to see it without snow. We pass a sign that says 34 deg C. We know it is hot, but surely not that hot. The journey passes without incident, until we hit the traffic jams of Annency at rush hour. That was a shock to the system. An hour later and we get through to the lake to try and find a camping area.

Savigny de Beaume

Waking up, the baker arrives at 8am with fresh baguettes. Given that we are in the heart of the Savigny de Beaume Appelation and the area is renowned for its wine making, it would be wrong not to try and get into some “caves” (cellars) and see what was going on. We headed past the very eccentric Chateau de Savigny, (with gardens full of fighter jets amongst the neatly clipped hedges and flower beds) and up towards the illustrious Henri de Villamont vineyard. The place is deserted, so I enter to find a nice lady who is prepared to open up for us. We were in for a treat. First they showed us the fields of vines, laden with grapes due to be harvested next month, with the area where there is a particularly good terroir for their best Cru’s. Then we went inside to see the massive vats where they ferment the grapes for one month before they are put in barrels. Then we went down the winding little staircase into the historic cellars, where the casks are laid out, some cellars for white wines, some for red. She opens up the casks and we can hear the wine fizzing as it ferments in the oak barrel. (only French oak apparently) So after a tour we get to sample the wines and finally cannot resist buying some fantastic grand cru’s that were grown just next to our campsite for us to savour during the rest of our journey.

Beaume

As we keep heading south we move from Champagne to Burgundy. This time we head for a small village just outside Beaume. We check into the local campsite, purchase 2 bottles of wine, (the Pinot Noir from the village we are staying in is delicious) and settle down after dinner to the sound of the gurgling brook to lie back and watch the shooting stars.

Abbey Fontaney

It turns out this Cistercian Abbey from the 12^th century is a UNESCO national monument. All we know is that we have a lot of fun running around taking pictures. We took hundreds of pictures here, and when I next have a decent Wifi connection, I will try and sort them onto Flickr. We all loved the working waterwheel, the fountain full of rainbow trout and the gravel floored church. It is still lived and worked by the monks (who had a brief absence between the French Revolution and 1906) and whilst some areas are out of bounds, most of it is opened up to show what a crap life a monk in the 12^th century would have had.