Going For Gold

Taking time out from stalking millionaires, credit crunch victim Heidi Fuller-love checks out a few (legal) schemes around the Ryanair network to get rich quick

COLDFINGERS
(OR PANNING FOR GOLD IN FRANCE)
When you’re strapped for cash the news that French rivers are full of gold comes as a bit of a shock, especially when you’re up to your knickers in the freezing waters of one near Limoges, in central France, and shovelling like a mole. To egg us on, our deadpan gold-panning instructor Philippe tells us that for centuries – from the bear-strewn Pyrenees, to the far-flung Cévennes – panhandlers have been plucking grains, and even nuggets, of that lovely yellow stuff from France’s waters. With the Château de Jumilhac standing behind us like an inspirational backdrop, we heft gobs of mud into a huge colander and slosh them around like mouthwash. What’s left is tipped into a cylindrical pan and shaken around underwater so the gold will work its way towards the bottom.

Two hours of this and my arms swing to the ground like a gorilla’s, my back is concertinaed like a Le Corbusier chair and I’ve found only two measly specks of yellow stuff. Humming Coldplay’s “There’s gold in them hills, so don’t lose heart”, I join the rest of my group for lunch on the sunny terrace of the Lou Boueiradour restaurant. As we wolf down melon doused in syrupy Pineau, tender strips of confit de canard and several carafes of fruity local wine, Philippe tells us that on an average day he finds 1g of gold. That’s worth roughly €12, which is the price of the three-course menu we’ve just devoured. Philippe confides that he makes his dosh by sinking his finds in resin and selling them as souvenirs to idiots like us who think they’re going to strike it rich panning for gold. Now there’s an idea.

UPSIDE: Great fun on a hot day, with only minor investment (wellies, spade and colander).

DOWNSIDE: Dirty work, and not enough gold to cap a tooth.

WAY TO GO: Book gold-panning days through the Gold Museum in Jumilhac le Grand (tel: +33 (0)5 5352 5543). Also try panning near Nîmes with Orpailleur (www.orpailleur.com).

MINE’S A PICASSO
(OR ANTIQUE HUNTING IN BELGIUM)
Head full of scenes from BBC’s Antiques Roadshow where someone screams and faints because that tatty old picture they used to block up a hole in the attic is actually an early Picasso, I set off to scour Brussels for some bargains.

My first stop is the enormous antiques market on Place du Grand Sablon. Stalls stacked with glittering silver candlesticks, brassy ormolu clocks and expensive-looking porcelain stretch in every direction. Deciding I’m not ready for the posh stuff yet, I make my way to Place du Jeu de Balle, where there’s a vast junk bazaar on weekends. Trawling the eclectic range of merchandise spread out in this sooty souk is like working your way through someone’s underwear drawer – grimy cooking pots, antique toilet seats and hip baths.

Then I spot it – the vase that will make my fortune. It weighs a tonne and has more cracks than the Mona Lisa (making it older apparently). Breathless, I turn it upside down looking for the maker’s stamp and read “Souvenir from Zadar”. I give up the idea of making a quick killing with antiques after that and invest instead in some cheap and cheerful kitchenware.

UPSIDE: Fun winding up the stallholders, and lots of gorgeous junk to browse.

DOWNSIDE: Unless you’ve studied art history for a couple of decades, don’t expect the “big one”.

WAY TO GO: The streets behind Place du Grand Sablon are packed with antique shops. Brussels is also renowned for its comic-book culture, and second-hand stores can be found along Chaussée de Wavre and Chaussée d’Ixelles.

THAT SINKING FEELING
(OR DIVING FOR TREASURE IN SPAIN)
After a wild night sipping Malaga’s finest finos straight from the barrel – served with sea urchin and spiced squid tapas at Bodega Antigua Casa de Guardia (www.casadeguardia.com) – I’m a bit of a wreck myself as I head out to the town of Fuengirola for my first course in “wreck-penetration diving”. Following the beach-lined coast from Malaga, I scan the glittering seascape for a glimpse of one of the galleons whose wrecks are said to “contain more gold and silver than the vaults of the Bank of Spain”.

Sitting in the classroom, it turns out wreck penetration is some of the most dangerous diving around. “There’s the risk of running low on air, getting tangled in fishing nets, or you might just get lost and never surface,” says our tutor Juan. Kitted out with 007-style wetsuits and divers’ knives, we prance around the pool launching feeble karate chops at one another. I ask Juan if there’s any chance we’ll find some pirate treasure. “Spanish wrecks are legally protected from unauthorised salvage and every item will be impounded by the state,” he says. “But if you’re lucky, you might find a fairly modern item, like a porthole, and if you do you can probably keep it.” Anyone know the Spanish for “taking the p***”?

UPSIDE: Excellent training and plenty of wrecks to explore.

DOWNSIDE: High risk factor, and you can’t even keep the booty!

WAY TO GO: Abysub diving school (www.abysub.com) runs training courses and trips out to wreck sites along the Costa del Sol.

3 ways to get some moolah

Find a mega-sized truffle on a hunting holiday near Perugia (www.tartufibianconi.it)
Turf up Roman artefacts on metal-detecting trips near London (www.metaldetectingtours.com)
Take on the kings of Texas hold 'em at Lyon Vert Casino (www.casino-lyonvert.com), France's biggest, which has 400 slot machines too.

THE RESULTS
If a get-rich-quick scheme is “high rates of return for a small investment”, my trip was a total failure. But if you believe that true wealth is found in life’s simple things, then I found untold riches by hiking across several countries, meeting some hunky fellas and having a lot of laughs. Travelling is all about the journey after all.