Out and About. Thursday 11th June 2009.

Our local Thursday market in Zola is out of this world, fantabulous, super dooper!!! It is so much bigger than expected. Bounties pulled from the sea are definitely the go in Nantes with its close proximity to the ocean. Stainless steel trays are alive with crabs, I would hate to be the ones on the bottom of the pile, and langoustines wiggle their tails in flapping motions. We buy cherries of the deepest red, blushing tomatoes, lettuces, spongy brioche bread, aged Comte cheese, and the local specialty, ‘Fromage du Cure Affine au Muscadet’ which Julie loves and John and I are not sure of.










We meet a lovely lady, Francoise, in the supermarket. She helps Julie choose a sparkling wine and does a fine job of it too we find out later. I think Francoise enjoys the exchange as much as we do and everyone in line at the checkout smiles. The people here are so friendly it warms our hearts.




Julie buys us all a patisserie treat to enjoy back at home, which we do after Julie catches up with loved ones on Skype (gotta love skype!) and cuts a vase of red roses from the garden before we head out to explore again.

We begin at the banks of L’Edre that runs into the city centre. We are amazed to see a hippy-type living on the river in a very permanent set up, consisting of two boats hosting various shelters, smoke was puffing into the blue from the kitchen chimney and pots of nasturtiums spilled water ward. We give him a wave as he went about his daily activity, he looked incredibly busy.

Ignoring him, the pace is pretty slow here and we slow to a more relaxed pace too, the day gently meanders along while we discover the daily marché at Talansac. Not a favourite market of mine, give me the charm of our neighbourhood market any day. To be fair, we arrived around midday when most of the action was over and the stalls looked a little depleted, so did their charges, maybe earlier would have been better. I did however make a new discovery, ‘asperge sauvage’ which I have never seen before so that was an unexpected treat.



The city streets took us via a model shop which AJ swooned over and then to the beautiful Cathedrale Saint Pierre. Elegant pillars of ribbed, light stone stretched way up to heaven and back. The cavernous inside filled with fingers of natural light washing the cathedral in a pure beauty. We all wandered quietly on our own, the odd glance between Julie and I the only communication of our pleasure.


The Chateau of the Dukes of Bretagne was lovely to wander around and it was a surprise to see a pack of wolves wandering in the area that once was the mote. We stood on the bridge suspended above them watching as they played together, the dark one looked menacing and was a tad scary I thought.

As was becoming the norm, we had left our lunch run a little late (3 pm) so were stuck for somewhere decent to eat. We ended in a little craperie (sorry crêperie) and all had a very average meal of crepes and salad, there was no happy vibe to be felt at all.

Onto le lieu unique tower which sported an oh so average view of the city. I could get higher standing on tippy-toes! It had a spinning platform operated by a wheel so Alex worked up a sweat for a while.


A relaxed game of Boules was in play at Place de la Duchesse Anne, a few of its competitors ditched the game for a chat with some sticky-beaking Aussies, who were momentarily more interesting than the game.

As we made our way back through the heart of Nantes, I stopped at Yves Thuries for some salted caramels. They were light and chewy. Salted caramels are prevalent here due to the close proximity to sea-salt production.


The streets led us to Place Royale, its centrepiece a fountain and its remainder a typical square of vast space. Young girls chatted around the fountain and an artist used the pavement as his canvas.




Just off the square is Georges Gautier, Confiseur whose window is decorated with towers of coloured macaroons so typical of France. Inside is elegant and feminine, softly lit with chandeliers, Berlingots (Bon-Bons) de Nantes are bundled up in clear cellophane, showing off their fruity colours.

Passage Pommeraye is next to see and last on today’s hit list. Alex is wilting and tells me he is only keeping going for Julie; bless his cotton socks and the tired feet inside them. The historic passage is ornate, between each stair tread are flower inlays made of metal, chinks of light separating the petals. Lights are held by cherub-like statues and the ceiling is angled glass panes separated by high archways intricately carved. Each floor is supported by Romanesque columns of aged, white stone. Passage Pommeraye is easy on the eye and I make a mental note to return when I am not so weary.



We enjoy only a fleeting stop at Theatre Graslin whose pillared entrance is dead opposite Cafe la Cigale which is not to be missed. It reminds me of an old Parisian Cafe inside with walls adorned with glittering mosaic works of art.