What better way to spend a holiday in France than waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the trees shading your tent, followed by a stroll down to a village to buy freshly baked croissants. The picture is even more perfect if you don’t have the hassles of taking all your camping gear with you and can let somebody else labour over erecting the tents.

A number of English-based camping holiday companies will ensure just that — giving you the option of staying at affordable camps which are fully equipped with gas cookers, fridges and all the pots and plates you could want. Our camping facilities even ended up having a swimming pool, tennis court, bar, restaurant and shops.

And there was no backache from sleeping on a thin rubber mat on damp ground either. The tents came with a double bed and two singles with a partition between them forming separate sleeping areas. Those who want to rough it climbing mountains in gales or getting soaked while white-water rafting can have it.

I wanted some comfort on my hard earned holiday and I didn’t want to pay a fortune. The overriding attraction to us, apart from economy, was the flexibility we had in deciding where to go, when and for how long. In France there is an extensive network of campsites from Brittany beaches to Pyrenees mountains and you can stay for a day or six weeks at any number of sites. We decided to spend most of our fortnight in the wine growing area of southern Burgundy with an overnight stop in the Aisne valley on the way and a few days ambling back through Germany’s Black Forest and rural Luxembourg. By travelling outside the main holiday period the costs were kept low. The quiet rural location of Dompierre-les-Ormes was an inspired choice for exploring the surrounding unspoilt countryside and enjoying lunches in sleepy village squares after shopping in the local markets. When the need for a faster pace took over, we visited the historic town of Cluny and the lively city of Macon. In between, there were the Romanesque churches and ancient chateaux to visit as well as the chance to rub shoulders with the French at village fetes. It was in this beautiful area we visited the 17th Century chateau of Pierreclos, which was all that a grand Burgundy castle should be.

Standing proudly amongst ancient oak trees on a hillside covered in vines, its turreted towers were patterned in green and brown glazed tiles. Small pepperpot-shaped gate houses in the encircling wall were similarly decorated. They even conducted wine tastings in the vaulted cellars. From vineyards and protective pine forests, the countryside opened out to fields of corn and wheat.

Dotted among the walnut and cherry trees were wild mint, which gave off a lovely aroma. In the churchyard of the tiny hilltop village of Curtil sous Buffieres, a 400-year-old cross guarded the tombstones. Worn wooden gates led to the decaying towered farmhouse next door where a curious Spanish inscription carved in stone showed the date 1664. In the days before running water and washing machines, each village had its covered outdoor laundry area (lavoir) where ladies gathered to gossip while scrubbing clothes at stone troughs.

These days the lavoirs are a village feature often decorated with tubs and baskets of flowers with water still trickling from underground springs. During its heyday in the Middle Ages, Cluny was the most illustrious religious centre in Christendom. Its magnificent abbey was founded in the 10th Century, but little of it remains — a sad fate for what was once the largest abbey in the world. The medieval town retains some of its ancient atmosphere however, with numerous 900-year-old Romanesque houses tucked in amongst narrow streets and characterised by arched doorways and slender, delicately carved columns in the upper windows.

Back at camp we made use of the barbecue that came with the tent. Trout seasoned with herbs and baked in foil over coals was delicious with the cold white wines we had bought at the co-operative in the tiny village of Chardonnay, just north of Cluny. After the rather heavy oak-aged Aussie chardonnays, the French version was a revelation with its more subtle flavour. Our camping neighbours pitched in with samples from their vineyard visits to go with the cheese. On market day in Dompierre, mobile vans set up in the square displayed enticing rows of creamy cheeses and spicy salamis.

Old ladies wielding wicker shopping baskets launched forth to stock up on pig’s trotters and cabbages, cherry tarts and plaits of garlic. Not so appealing were the racks of dowdy cotton frocks and boxes of unfashionable shoes. It was fun browsing though, and saying a bonjour here and there. When it came time to move on to the next campsite our gear was a breeze to pack without the hassle of taking down a tent and tidying up. We happily left all that to the staff as we waved goodbye.