George Clemenceau's "shack" as he described it but it was here that he met all of the worlds heads of state.
garden designed by Clemenceau and Monet
View from the bedroom and the house
Angers, a Plantagenet church!
Sunday, 18 October 2009
photos
George Clemenceau's "shack" as he described it but it was here that he met all of the worlds heads of state.garden designed by Clemenceau and Monet
View from the bedroom and the houseAngers, a Plantagenet church!
St Hermine to L'Ile de Re
Friday 16th October.
St Hermine to L’Ile de Re.
Luckily the wind had dropped as we had to leave rather early to bike to Lucon to take at train to La Rochelle. – I know, cheating again, but we couldn’t do 80 miles in one day and wanted to spend the weekend on the Ile de Re. Also it was just taking us over more marshes and salt flats, and we know we have an awful lot more of those to look at.
La Rochelle is so pretty, but a bit of a nightmare getting to the bridge to the Ile by bike, 1½ hours later having been through every type of industrial dockland site we reached the bridge. Thankfully there was a tail wind so flew over it. It is a pretty impressive 2.5 miles long and the cars have to pay 10 euros to go over, but bikes are free. Probably because they don’t think anyone will manage to find it.
Ile de Re is a very charming island not unlike Ile Noimoutier where we were last week, but a bit longer, and full of rather trendy sophisticated French on holiday and 2 rather scruffy bikers wearing all their belongings at the same time! We tried to buy lunch at a restaurant on arrival on the island but food was off, Friday 2pm. I think it was Alec’s long johns that did it, but they did give us a drink. We met a very friendly couple from Donaghadee who have a house here and also have one of Mum’s paintings - what a small world.
Last night we were admiring a portrait of Annie and noticed it was painted by Mike Bowman , apparently his first ever portrait painted in the 70s. (Sally, please can you tell him!).
20 miles later we reached Ars-en-Re, or as Alec calls it ‘our son Ray’ where we are staying in Holly and David’s lovely flat over-looking the harbour.
St Hermine to L’Ile de Re.
Luckily the wind had dropped as we had to leave rather early to bike to Lucon to take at train to La Rochelle. – I know, cheating again, but we couldn’t do 80 miles in one day and wanted to spend the weekend on the Ile de Re. Also it was just taking us over more marshes and salt flats, and we know we have an awful lot more of those to look at.
La Rochelle is so pretty, but a bit of a nightmare getting to the bridge to the Ile by bike, 1½ hours later having been through every type of industrial dockland site we reached the bridge. Thankfully there was a tail wind so flew over it. It is a pretty impressive 2.5 miles long and the cars have to pay 10 euros to go over, but bikes are free. Probably because they don’t think anyone will manage to find it.
Ile de Re is a very charming island not unlike Ile Noimoutier where we were last week, but a bit longer, and full of rather trendy sophisticated French on holiday and 2 rather scruffy bikers wearing all their belongings at the same time! We tried to buy lunch at a restaurant on arrival on the island but food was off, Friday 2pm. I think it was Alec’s long johns that did it, but they did give us a drink. We met a very friendly couple from Donaghadee who have a house here and also have one of Mum’s paintings - what a small world.
Last night we were admiring a portrait of Annie and noticed it was painted by Mike Bowman , apparently his first ever portrait painted in the 70s. (Sally, please can you tell him!).
20 miles later we reached Ars-en-Re, or as Alec calls it ‘our son Ray’ where we are staying in Holly and David’s lovely flat over-looking the harbour.
St Cyr to St Hermine
St Cyr to St Hermine (La Landerie)
Thursday 15th October.
Today it is wall to wall blue sky, bright sunshine but with a perishingly cold east wind from Siberia. I set off in my usual shorts, sandals, polo shirt but today added a sleeveless fleece. My teeth were chattering so much I found it hard to concentrate and was worried I might wobble off. After buying a quiche for lunch I eventually had to admit to Vivi that I was going to put some socks on. These proved inadequate so the next stage was gloves, then a jersey then my cycling windcheater and finally my long johns normally worn UNDER plus fours but I didn’t care and at last I was warm.
We zigzagged our way through delightful undulating countryside along the river Lay towards St Hermine. At last we were back in rural France and saw coveys of partridge, some deer – the first we’ve seen in 5 weeks and a hare, again a first. Plus copious rabbits but this time free range as hitherto we have only seen beautiful black and white caged jobs being prepared for the pot.
We stopped in Mareuil-sur-Lay-Dissais and went to the local bar to warm ourselves up and there were at least 20 men and I was the only female, other than the bar maid. The men seem to take their lunch hours very seriously with lots of Pastis being drunk.
Annie lives at La Landerie a beautiful converted farmhouse where she runs an extremely comfortable chambre/table d’hote and we were spoiled rotten. It was bliss to speak English with someone else, have a proper hot bath, cup of tea, delicious 4 course dinner and a good catch up.
Thursday 15th October.
Today it is wall to wall blue sky, bright sunshine but with a perishingly cold east wind from Siberia. I set off in my usual shorts, sandals, polo shirt but today added a sleeveless fleece. My teeth were chattering so much I found it hard to concentrate and was worried I might wobble off. After buying a quiche for lunch I eventually had to admit to Vivi that I was going to put some socks on. These proved inadequate so the next stage was gloves, then a jersey then my cycling windcheater and finally my long johns normally worn UNDER plus fours but I didn’t care and at last I was warm.
We zigzagged our way through delightful undulating countryside along the river Lay towards St Hermine. At last we were back in rural France and saw coveys of partridge, some deer – the first we’ve seen in 5 weeks and a hare, again a first. Plus copious rabbits but this time free range as hitherto we have only seen beautiful black and white caged jobs being prepared for the pot.
We stopped in Mareuil-sur-Lay-Dissais and went to the local bar to warm ourselves up and there were at least 20 men and I was the only female, other than the bar maid. The men seem to take their lunch hours very seriously with lots of Pastis being drunk.
Annie lives at La Landerie a beautiful converted farmhouse where she runs an extremely comfortable chambre/table d’hote and we were spoiled rotten. It was bliss to speak English with someone else, have a proper hot bath, cup of tea, delicious 4 course dinner and a good catch up.
Sable d'Ollone to St Cyr en Talmondais
Sable d’Ollone to St Cyr en Talmondais.
Wednesday 14th October.
We left Sable D’O heading south as we wanted to look at George Clemenceau’s garden which was designed with the help of his friend Monet (of water lily fame). Clemenceau was President of France in 1919 and signed the Treaty ending France’s war with Germany which made him a very popular man. He was also known is the Tiger for his combative political style. Cinemas and all sorts around here are called ‘The Tiger’ which unless you know your history or have visited the house would probably have remained a complete mystery to us. The house is a small wooden shack (perfect holiday house) with a distinctly unkempt garden but colourful, which is how he and Monet wanted it to look. We skipped the guided tour in French and self tutored ourselves using the English version of the Guide and then had to hang about for 20 minutes for fear that bossy madame on the gate might send us back to do it properly.
As the house is right on the beach and as we were now heading 60k’s inland we dipped our toes into the Atlantic which to our surprise was perfectly acceptable and if there hadn’t been a strong north wind with a chill factor equivalent to the north pole we might even have had a swim.
By now we had spent 3 days cycling along the coast and what was around the next corner was becoming a bit predictable. So we decided to head in land to take in a bit if the Bocage and south Vendee and to call in on Annie Jory who Vivi had met on a walk to celebrate C N-J’s birthday a month ago. After we had passed two office de tourisms – both shut and fearing we may not find anywhere for the night Vivi called a chambre d’hote on the list we had from the day before and were lucky enough to find a farmhouse B and B which also did dinner.
Pedaling inland we passed through Angles where there was a particularly interesting Plantagenet church built in the 1200’s with huge curved arches and fascinating information about Eleanor d’Aquitaine who after 15 years of loveless marriage to the King of France was dumped when he set off on a crusade, picked up with our Prince Richard (later King Lion heart) and married within 2 months. Can’t say life was dull in those days, with thousands of acres changing hands overnight!!
Anyway we eventually made it to the B and B (Maison Neuve at St Cyr) which with the cold headwind was at about the extreme end of our endurance to be greeted by the most charming couple who said that they would be having dinner with us. This was fine for Vivi but struck fear into my heart and a stiff whiskey was called for before joining them. Madame cooked us a feast, all vegetables and all from her own garden. Conversation was no problem as they introduced us to a local aperitif known as Pineau which was sherry like and how it was made requires further research but it might have involved grape leaves – who knows! They managed to answer most of the questions which had been troubling us like – Q. why hadn’t the maize been cut – A. it is grown for popcorn and Q. what was the dead animal on the road – A. not a beaver but a Rat Gondin similar to a musk rat (horrid thing although I’m sure it’s mother loves it)
The next morning we had to do it all again because they joined us for breakfast!
Wednesday 14th October.
We left Sable D’O heading south as we wanted to look at George Clemenceau’s garden which was designed with the help of his friend Monet (of water lily fame). Clemenceau was President of France in 1919 and signed the Treaty ending France’s war with Germany which made him a very popular man. He was also known is the Tiger for his combative political style. Cinemas and all sorts around here are called ‘The Tiger’ which unless you know your history or have visited the house would probably have remained a complete mystery to us. The house is a small wooden shack (perfect holiday house) with a distinctly unkempt garden but colourful, which is how he and Monet wanted it to look. We skipped the guided tour in French and self tutored ourselves using the English version of the Guide and then had to hang about for 20 minutes for fear that bossy madame on the gate might send us back to do it properly.
As the house is right on the beach and as we were now heading 60k’s inland we dipped our toes into the Atlantic which to our surprise was perfectly acceptable and if there hadn’t been a strong north wind with a chill factor equivalent to the north pole we might even have had a swim.
By now we had spent 3 days cycling along the coast and what was around the next corner was becoming a bit predictable. So we decided to head in land to take in a bit if the Bocage and south Vendee and to call in on Annie Jory who Vivi had met on a walk to celebrate C N-J’s birthday a month ago. After we had passed two office de tourisms – both shut and fearing we may not find anywhere for the night Vivi called a chambre d’hote on the list we had from the day before and were lucky enough to find a farmhouse B and B which also did dinner.
Pedaling inland we passed through Angles where there was a particularly interesting Plantagenet church built in the 1200’s with huge curved arches and fascinating information about Eleanor d’Aquitaine who after 15 years of loveless marriage to the King of France was dumped when he set off on a crusade, picked up with our Prince Richard (later King Lion heart) and married within 2 months. Can’t say life was dull in those days, with thousands of acres changing hands overnight!!
Anyway we eventually made it to the B and B (Maison Neuve at St Cyr) which with the cold headwind was at about the extreme end of our endurance to be greeted by the most charming couple who said that they would be having dinner with us. This was fine for Vivi but struck fear into my heart and a stiff whiskey was called for before joining them. Madame cooked us a feast, all vegetables and all from her own garden. Conversation was no problem as they introduced us to a local aperitif known as Pineau which was sherry like and how it was made requires further research but it might have involved grape leaves – who knows! They managed to answer most of the questions which had been troubling us like – Q. why hadn’t the maize been cut – A. it is grown for popcorn and Q. what was the dead animal on the road – A. not a beaver but a Rat Gondin similar to a musk rat (horrid thing although I’m sure it’s mother loves it)
The next morning we had to do it all again because they joined us for breakfast!
St Gilles le Croix to Sable d'Ollone
St Giles le Croix to Sable d’Olonne
Tuesday 13th October.
On leaving town we had a very easy morning’s ride along the coast. Yet more sandy tracks and pine trees until we came to some open coast line at La Sauzaie. Here were proper Atlantic rollers with a lot of surfers having a great time riding the waves. They were all pretty professional and had obviously spent much time perfecting the art. Alec wondered why they weren’t all at work! Again not many girls so they obviously are all at work. We have found out where the females are. They are all postmen or work in the boulangerie.
After watching the antics of the surfers we had worked up quite a thirst so had to try some local wine. We are now in Sauvignon Blanc country, (having been in Muscadet). We went through more marshes and saw some Swallows going over - think they will be the last, and arrived at Les Sables D’Ollonne by about 6 and booked in to a little B and B in a clos on the edge of the marsh. We dumped our bags and biked off to the Port to see these famous sands in the sunset. I think the town must have been flattened in the War as it is almost entirely 1960’s high rise blocks on the front. However the beach is huge and the inner harbor was full of fairly impressive boats. For anyone who is not a sailor, this is where the last Vendee Globe Yacht race started from, which was subsequently won by a French man so much around the town refers to it. We found a very small restaurant on the inner harbor where the owner/chef/ barman cooked us up a feast of sardines, and the lightest warm chocolate gateau I have ever tasted. The restaurant was full of athletic looking sailing types (who demonstrated France’s complete disregard of the smoking ban but they did ask if we minded before lighting up!) so lots to look at. We had such a jolly evening we could not remember where we lived so took hours getting back.
We have now done 800 miles, but looking at the map have hardly made much of an impression on France, and there is still a long way to the Spanish border.
Tuesday 13th October.
On leaving town we had a very easy morning’s ride along the coast. Yet more sandy tracks and pine trees until we came to some open coast line at La Sauzaie. Here were proper Atlantic rollers with a lot of surfers having a great time riding the waves. They were all pretty professional and had obviously spent much time perfecting the art. Alec wondered why they weren’t all at work! Again not many girls so they obviously are all at work. We have found out where the females are. They are all postmen or work in the boulangerie.
After watching the antics of the surfers we had worked up quite a thirst so had to try some local wine. We are now in Sauvignon Blanc country, (having been in Muscadet). We went through more marshes and saw some Swallows going over - think they will be the last, and arrived at Les Sables D’Ollonne by about 6 and booked in to a little B and B in a clos on the edge of the marsh. We dumped our bags and biked off to the Port to see these famous sands in the sunset. I think the town must have been flattened in the War as it is almost entirely 1960’s high rise blocks on the front. However the beach is huge and the inner harbor was full of fairly impressive boats. For anyone who is not a sailor, this is where the last Vendee Globe Yacht race started from, which was subsequently won by a French man so much around the town refers to it. We found a very small restaurant on the inner harbor where the owner/chef/ barman cooked us up a feast of sardines, and the lightest warm chocolate gateau I have ever tasted. The restaurant was full of athletic looking sailing types (who demonstrated France’s complete disregard of the smoking ban but they did ask if we minded before lighting up!) so lots to look at. We had such a jolly evening we could not remember where we lived so took hours getting back.
We have now done 800 miles, but looking at the map have hardly made much of an impression on France, and there is still a long way to the Spanish border.
Ile Noirmoutier to St Gilles le Croix
Monday 12th October.
Noirmoutier to St Gilles le Croix
Was a completely different day, wall to wall blue sky so had a great time wandering around the old town and the Chateau. It had been a stronghold from Norman times with some great paintings and a fantastic view from the turrets. There was a painting of some poor General being executed by a firing squad during the Revolution, slumped in his chair in the parade ground. Rather gorily the chair was exhibited beside the picture with some very large holes through the back of it. We then had to bike back to the mainland and head on down the coast to St Gilles Croix-de-vie. The bike route took us through lots of pine forests and sandy tracks and I fell off and gave myself a fat lip on my handle bars. It looks a bit like botox and is probably as painful so have decided against ever getting that done.
Alec is much better at staying upright on tracks obviously having spent much of his mis-spent youth doing wheelies on his bike. The tracks are very similar to those around Moreton and Bovington, a mixture of gravel and sand. And just when you get a bit of speed up to go down a hill they throw in a wooden barrier to stop you. – and it works! With so much baggage on the back, when the bike goes over, you just have to let it drop. We feel at bit like Ewan and Charlie on the Long Way Round!
This part of the coast is just one mass of holiday villages in the pine forests and amongst the dunes. Pretty ugly and you wouldn’t believe enough people would ever come here. But there are literally thousands of caravan sites and high rise flats so it must be a hive of activity in the summer. It is mostly closed now so has a rather desolate air with only (other) oldies wandering around having their holidays.
St Gilles Croix de Vie is one of the biggest sardine ports, so smelt pretty fishy. Surprisingly there were no sardines on the menu .We have this romantic notion of finding wonderful small restaurants serving bits of the local produce for the plat du jour, but in practice, they all have much the same to offer: ie steak or moules frites, and very seldom anything out of the ordinary. We have seen some advertising ‘Head of Veal’ and ‘Calves tongues’ which I don’t think would pull in the customers at home. The church had yet another large boat suspended from the roof with a lot of fishing nets and lobster pots surrounding alter. We have yet to find anyone who actually knows anything about this tradition.
Noirmoutier to St Gilles le Croix
Was a completely different day, wall to wall blue sky so had a great time wandering around the old town and the Chateau. It had been a stronghold from Norman times with some great paintings and a fantastic view from the turrets. There was a painting of some poor General being executed by a firing squad during the Revolution, slumped in his chair in the parade ground. Rather gorily the chair was exhibited beside the picture with some very large holes through the back of it. We then had to bike back to the mainland and head on down the coast to St Gilles Croix-de-vie. The bike route took us through lots of pine forests and sandy tracks and I fell off and gave myself a fat lip on my handle bars. It looks a bit like botox and is probably as painful so have decided against ever getting that done.
Alec is much better at staying upright on tracks obviously having spent much of his mis-spent youth doing wheelies on his bike. The tracks are very similar to those around Moreton and Bovington, a mixture of gravel and sand. And just when you get a bit of speed up to go down a hill they throw in a wooden barrier to stop you. – and it works! With so much baggage on the back, when the bike goes over, you just have to let it drop. We feel at bit like Ewan and Charlie on the Long Way Round!
This part of the coast is just one mass of holiday villages in the pine forests and amongst the dunes. Pretty ugly and you wouldn’t believe enough people would ever come here. But there are literally thousands of caravan sites and high rise flats so it must be a hive of activity in the summer. It is mostly closed now so has a rather desolate air with only (other) oldies wandering around having their holidays.
St Gilles Croix de Vie is one of the biggest sardine ports, so smelt pretty fishy. Surprisingly there were no sardines on the menu .We have this romantic notion of finding wonderful small restaurants serving bits of the local produce for the plat du jour, but in practice, they all have much the same to offer: ie steak or moules frites, and very seldom anything out of the ordinary. We have seen some advertising ‘Head of Veal’ and ‘Calves tongues’ which I don’t think would pull in the customers at home. The church had yet another large boat suspended from the roof with a lot of fishing nets and lobster pots surrounding alter. We have yet to find anyone who actually knows anything about this tradition.
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