Creepy Crawlies in the French Countryside

Travel | Workaway

We came back from Malta on June 10th, quite reluctantly, I might add, since we had a great time there, but it was the only realistic option — you can read about the how and why in a previous story. The more or less unplanned return to mainland Europe meant we hadn't had a lot of time to organize the next part of our slow-travel trip. We had a few stays lined up and would have to fill the gaps in between on the fly.

First, we had a brief stop in Sainte-Maxime to visit my parents who were vacationing there. It was a few days to relax before our workaway routine kicked in again. Even though the weather on Malta had been very similar to that in southern France, it had a totally different effect on nature. Here in France, fauna had gone into overdrive.

While having lunch or dinner outside, wasps would investigate the food on our plate and land if it seemed interesting. Meanwhile on the ground, several lines of ants were going back and forth between wherever they lived and places where something edible was to be found; a new line would form if you spilled something on the floor. Outside they were fascinating to observe, but keeping them from coming in was a challenge.

Next, we went to Marminiac for a workaway on a horse farm — the same where we did our first workaway ever, but back then it was in April, which was a totally different experience.

With horses came poo, and with poo came flies. The two main kinds were the big stingy buggers and the little annoying ones that would sit on you for no apparent reason. It made working on hot days quite uncomfortable, but at least there were the relatively calm nights… after killing whatever could bug us at night.

The end of June, we relocated to a house-sit/workaway in Les Arques, a town a mere 15 minutes from Marminiac. This was the property of Alicia, a family member of our Maltese hosts, who was new to the whole workaway experience and had more or less been talked into it by her family members on the Mediterranean island.

Even though we were in the same area, local wildlife was totally different. The evenings and nights were filled with endless cicada chirping, though that was the least of the nuisances. Wasps were pestering us through lunch if we dared eat outside. Flies would sit on anything that looked even remotely edible. Inside, we'd often see spiders, and not small ones. And while working in the front garden, I found several snake skins, suggesting at least one lived there somewhere, and judging by what I found, it wasn't a small one either. It probably wasn't poisonous, but I still did not want to encounter it. On the upside, it explained why there were very few rodents to see.

After Alicia, we were planning on going back to Susan's in Marminiac, but since she had other workaways until late July, we had to somehow bridge a week. My wife found an affordable stay at a holiday resort in Cazals, which is actually between Les Arques and Marminiac. We were going to have a week to relax. Oddly enough, while this was a place where many people were merely relaxing, eating and drinking — the perfect recipe for a bug invasion — there were few bugs to see or even hear. Or better: there were few compared to what we had experienced the weeks before.

And then we went back to Susan's… and it was worse than anything else we had endured since we got back from Malta. There had been a few storms, which was good for nature and for the rainwater reserves, but that meant everything that crawled and flew around was now back in full force.

Not only were there more of the same critters like the ones we had before, but they also seemed even more annoying than a few weeks earlier. On top of that, there were small mosquitoes you'd rarely actually see and could only hear when they were buzzing near your ears. And when you saw or heard one, the damage had already been done: you'd be stung several times, resulting in big, red bumps anywhere on your body.

I looked like I had some kind of disease: my bald head felt and looked like a miniature mountain range, and at some point my wife counted a few dozen bites on my back alone. One day, my wife had been bitten so many times that her immune system had gone into overdrive and she felt physically ill.

Before going to sleep, I'd take a fly swatter and kill whatever I caught sitting somewhere, often dozens. Meanwhile, the bug zapper was on, frying one of those suckers at least once every few minutes; the tray underneath filled up quickly. And still, once the light went out and we lay down, the buzzing started again.

Then, on August 10th, we left again. Not because of the creepy crawlies, but because my wife had to go back to Belgium for her job — she was a jury in a film festival and also had a few events to attend. But before actually going home, we were going to visit my aunt and uncle for a few days.

We no longer drove long stretches at once, and with more than 700 kilometers to cover, we had an overnight stay at a motel we'd used before. Last time it was great, and we were looking forward to having a quiet night.

We arrived at the motel and hardly saw or heard insects. In the room, it was quiet, and it seemed it was going to be a peaceful stay. Before going to bed, I was brushing my teeth, and I heard my wife yell: "I caught a big jumping spider!" I know my spiders and these jumpers rarely are big — she caught a brownish-black cricket under a glass. No biggie. I shoved a paper under the glass and threw him out. Then she went to sleep, and I took my tablet to watch something before turning in as well.

While I was watching Becker — a nineties sitcom starring Ted Danson — I felt something landing on me. I turned on the light, and there was a cricket on my bed. I took a glass, caught it and put it outside. Then I had a look around… There were dozens of them on the ground and walls — they came in through a crack underneath the door. I spent half an hour playing catch and release until they were — hopefully — all gone.

I hadn't noticed upon arrival, but the grass just outside the accommodation hadn't been cut in weeks, which obviously was quite inviting for these little fellas. I normally wouldn't mind, because I find these creatures fascinating, but I hadn't anticipated them wanting to come in, for whatever reason.

After what was still the best night in weeks, we headed further north. We arrived at my aunt and uncle's early in the afternoon. We were exhausted and looking forward to finally having a carefree sleep.

When having a drink outside, there were some wasps, and I feared that was an omen for the night. We went to our room around nine. All was quiet. We watched a movie on our tablet… without interruption. And then we went to sleep… and we slept until early morning light woke us — bug-free!

I guess the lesson I take away from this is to never spend summer in southern France again, especially the south-east.

List: Travel stories | Curated by Iban Van der Zeyp | Medium Travel stories · After our last cat had passed away, we decided to travel the south of Europe. Every place has a story…