Fete de la Musique. Sunday 21st June 2009.

After the storms and rain from the first week we arrived in Nantes, to the blue sky, warmth and sunshine of this week, the grass had gone crazy, so JR set about running the mower over it. He soon decided that electric mowers are a joke after negotiations with the extension cord at every turn.

AJ felt like some alone time so stayed at home while JR and I took the ferry to the traditional fishing village of Trentemoult. It is strange to have such a sleepy little village, one that time forgot, just a few minutes ferry ride across the Loire from the city. It wasn’t so sleepy today though. Today is Fete de la Musique, the day when every street in France comes alive with celebrations and music. We witnessed Fete de la Musique the last time we were in Paris and it was electric. Celebrations in the usually quiet village of Trentemoult included stunt bikes riding down a ramp to land with spectacular style in the Loire, sometimes only just missing the concrete bank!

At about 8pm we took the tram into the city for Fete de la Musique and got into the thick of the action. Every street corner showcased a style of music different to the last, rock, Latin, African, live DJ’s, the list goes on. Nantes was alive with music, dance and good times and everyone was out on the streets soaking it up and taking part.

The Lovely Loire Valley, Take Two! Friday 19th June 2009.

Kate, our darling satellite navigation lady was in a foul mood today and tested us all to the limit. Our aim was to begin our adventures at Saumur, the town we finished in when we visited The Loire Valley with Julie. In the end our early start was eaten up with wrong turns and detours, the only bonus was finding fields of wild poppies, and by the time we got to the first village passed Saumur, Montsoreau, it was time for lunch.

We dined at Restaurant Diane de Meridor, I’ll let the pictures tell the story. At the table behind us, a small dog lay at her owners feet, quiet and content. I love that a dog is allowed in a dining room in France, it seems meant to be.

We visited the exterior of Chateau de la Dame de Montsoreau with a history dating back to 11th century. Some of its architecture took us back to the traboules in Lyon.

We had a quick snoop around the village, all was quiet until a bikie gang rolled through town. They rode pillion and otherwise atop 100+ gleaming machines whose bass like rumbles arrived long before them and left way after.

Along the Loire a little further was Candes-St-Martin, a small village decorated with roses in full bloom, they made the village look so pretty. The Eglise Collegiale dominated the small square and the cobbled streets made their way uphill behind it, to the panorama view of the confluence of La Loire and La Vienne Rivers. The surprise of the day was the discovery of Brocant Gourmande with its little courtyard dining room with mismatched chairs, tables and china. The inside diningroom was filled with walls of old books and memorablilia, the resident cat curled up on an empty chair beside a contented customer.

On our way back to the car we found a wild cherry tree laden with fruit, and also the open gates to Chateau Vieux which is closed to the public. The owner of the Chateaux was driving out of the high gates on his way back to Paris, he only spends weekends at his Chateaux. We got chatting and he invited us inside the gates for a quick look around ...I love France!


In the next village of Chinon, the streets were full of festivities and celebrations. Our first encounter was with a guy dressed as a cow, his mates had thrown him into the river and his hide was soaked! It was all in good fun, he was to be married in August and this was part of the celebrations. In the back streets, a wedding party ambled, followed by beaming guests, ‘bon chance’ we called to them. We pulled over in a nearby park for a throw of the ball by the river, a fisherman reeled in a small fish while others sat idle, their hooks dangling untouched a little further upstream.

The last town on the itinerary today was Rigny-Usse and the beautiful Chateau D’Usse. It was so beautiful on the outside with its peaked turrets reaching high up into the sky, but lacked the warmth of Chateaux de Brissac we had fallen in love with on our visit last week. This Chateaux was only for show, each of its rooms roped off with mannequins dressed as the people would have been in years gone by. Chateaux D’Usse certainly didn’t have the same warm and fuzzy feel as Chateaux de Brissac, it was not nearly as special.



We got lost on the way home too, in one town we passed the same red tractor four times as we were taken on a loop through the narrow streets, we laughed so much and John just kept shaking his head in silence.

Sleepy Heads. Thursday 18th June 2009.

The business of touring is certainly a tiring one and this morning it was 11am before any of us woke. Thursday is local market day and by the time we arrived it was almost over, it had lost its shine. I did bag a bargain though, fresh prawns for €1 per 100 grams and they were delicious. We did stop in at Cremerie Coudel to stock up on the weeks supply of Comte, that had been aged beautifully for 24 months.

The afternoon came, and we all ventured to Ille de Versailles to hire a boat to cruise up and down the L’Erdre. Alex drove most of the way and wore a smile plastered across his face the entire way, it was great fun. We had packed a picnic and ate it under the shade of a tree on Ille de Versailles. We fed the ducks before jumping back on the tram to the centre of town.

The boys headed home and I stayed in the thick of things for a while, I wanted to revisit the beautiful Passage Pommeraye. At its entrance I discovered the luscious Maison Larnicol, a gorgeous chocolatier, also specialising in brightly coloured macaroons. The had a Ferrari chocolate in the window for €29 too.

Mont-Saint-Michel. Wednesday 17th June 2009.

We had a long drive ahead of us this morning en route to Mont-Saint-Michel. We had a lovely encounter with a biker at the petrol station, unmaned as is the usual. He offered to put our fuel on his credit card as we only had cash. It is things like this that have me wondering why the French have the reputation of being so rude, the real French people certainly aren't, in fact, they are quite the opposite.

It was hot today, summer is coming and its arrival can be felt in every ray of sun. We arrived in Saint Malo and first wandered around the bay of Plage Solidor, then along Plage des bas Sablons and into the walled area of Saint Malo, this area is called the Intra-Muros. It left us all pretty cold actually. Maybe it was just our mood but it was terribly touristy and artificial. I guess we have been spoiled with pretty villages where only locals wander, going about their business. Saint-Malo was just the opposite, it bustled with bodies and the shops spilled onto the streets, brim full of touristy bits and bobs.


We drove around Baie du Mont-Saint-Michel to Cancale. Cancale fronted an opal-blue bay with a pier that stretched out into it. It was pretty and serene. We had a picnic lunch in the shade overlooking the bay, it was restful and the green carpet of grass was cool and I liked the way it was scattered with white daisies, it was just what we needed after feeling jilted by the bustling Saint Malo.

Around the bay a little more was a very small village called Saint-Benoit-des-Ondes. Right on the waterfront was a seafood producer selling oysters from Cancale, mussels large and small and some blacker than ink, cockles, clams and vivants that were just like the winkles I ate at the sea-front in Kilkee, Ireland. They sold every implement and condiment to pry from the sea creatures from their shells and to dress them ready for eating, so customers could eat their fresh purchases on the beautiful bay just outside the door.




The bay was lined with village after village, the last like the one before, all with unique houses built from salt and pepper coloured stone, most gardens sprouted colourful rose bushes in full bloom, softening the cold stone frontages and making them as pretty as a picture.

Just outside the village of Mont-Saint-Michel is Beauvoir. If you are ever in the region, call into Biscuiterie des Marais, they specialise in regional Bretagne products - what a treat. They sell salted caramels, an apple based drink called Pommeau de Normandie, alcoholic ciders, calvados, salicornes and an interesting concoction called confiture de lait - milk jam. It was sweet and caramely. I didn't buy a jar in fear that I would not be able to look past it for breakfast every day.

Before we knew it, Mont-Saint-Michel was before us, almost an island except for a narrow strip of land anchoring it to shore. The Abbey up top stretches into the clouds, high and mighty and a sight to behold. The township is at its feet and the Abbey is the towns crowning glory. We had an hour to complete our tour of Abbaye du Mont-Saint-Michel. It was peaceful and built with cold stone. We were lucky enough to be one of the last tourists for the day so had many rooms to ourselves allowing us to let the quiet and tranquility seep deep inside us.

We knew the Abbey closed at 7pm so we kept moving along. At 6.45 we reached a point where a staff member closed the door in the direction of our tour. I politely enquired could she open the door to allow us to finish our visit. This was not possible (ah, I had missed that famous French saying we had become so familiar with at the prefecture and the treasury earlier in our adventure!). Apparently the lady with the keys had gone home and it was not possible to reopen the many doors that had been locked. Well, this just wasn't cricket. We had paid our money and had until 7pm but the lady with the keys had closed up early, and we had driven 3 hours to get here! I asked to speak to whoever was in charge who told me it was unfortunate the Abbey had been closed early, "But this is France' he said. Now I'm really angry, as you can imagine. He tells me to write a complaint letter or come back tomorrow - what a cheek! I asked for him to write his name and the name of who I should write to as this was disgraceful, to take people's money and to not give them the service they were promised. He wrote down the name for me and disappeared without a care in the world. Two ladies who had prematurely ended their tour around the same time as us had no idea they had been cheated out of the remainder of their visit. I began to tell them, more allies on our side I thought. Mr. 'This Is France', reappeared and said "I will open up the Abbey again as an exception just for you, when you write your letter make sure you write that I opened up as an exception for you'. Not likely Mister, if I write any letter at all it will be to complain that this unfortunate incident happened in the first place. I should be so grateful for his so carefully considered exception - huh!

We completed our tour of the Abbey and lucky for us we did as we would have missed out on the Abbey gardens and the exterior wall that was covered in yellow lichen that Victor Hugo called 'The most beautiful wall in the world'. From the ramparts you could see far below, love letters that smitten hearts had carved into the sand surrounding the stone that rose out of the bay.

As the sun fell low in the sky, we three walked around the perimiter. The tide was way out so we were lucky to be able to do this. It was nice and the breeze turned colder as it came at us across the water. When the sun was gone, Mont-Saint-Michel burned with the hue of light and looked like a birthday cake alight with the warm glow of candles.

Bye, bye Sis. Tuesday 16th June 2009.

All good things must come to an end. AJ had said his goodbyes last night as Julie had to leave home at around 5am. John was up and about and took charge of the coffee pot, thanks JR. His goodbyes over, Julie and I headed for the tramway, only a few minutes walk from home.

The early sky hung over the cities houses, covering them with a navy-blue, velvet blanket, the street lights below shone golden and all was quiet.

We hugged for an eternity at the train station, sobbing at the thought of our precious week together being over. What fun we have had. The last I saw of Julie was of her beautiful face behind the train's window, she was wiping her tears away as they fell down her face, so was I.

Until next time Sis, I love you. XXX

Castles in the Air. Monday 15th June 2009.

If I had of known what today would hold, I don’t think I would have been able to sleep last night I would have been so full of excitement and anticipation.

We crossed the vast Loire River at Ingrandes sur Loire, much of the river bed was exposed but the river was still wide and from one bank to the next was a long, long way. The day had begun slowly and it had been hard to plot our course to visit the Loire Valley. We wanted to show Julie the France we love, the tiny villages every few miles or so, to get off the freeway and discover the out of the way charms we knew she would love.

By the time we reached the village of Mont Jean, I knew we were on the right road. We swung into the car park belonging to Eglise Saint-Symphorien, high on the hill overlooking the village with views of the villagers backyards filled with market gardens planted in neat little rows. Alex babbled a hilarious commentary about JR, Julie and I being competitive Olympic photographers, he was so funny. The church was built here on the sight of an old castle in 1860.

By lunch time we had reached Chalonnes sur Loire. We dropped into the tourist office and met two charming and helpful ladies. Unfortunately the restaurant they recommended was closed as is often the case on Mondays. Our only hope was Calo Delices right on the square opposite the Hotel de Ville. The four of us enjoyed the most simple, tasty and well cooked lunch, nothing fancy, just good, plain, flavoursome cooking. We ordered the entree du jour of fresh rockmelon and salami, followed by the plat du jour of baked chicken with frittes and vegetables. No tricks and turns, it was what it was, and it was great. Service was spot on too, our waitress did well to decipher our sometimes ordinary French as she spoke no English at all. An American soap opera (either Days of our Lives or Young and Restless) was on a TV mounted on the wall, we all laughed that every country seems afflicted with this terrible form of entertainment. How funny.

We travelled through Ardenay and Denee before literally stumbling upon Brissac-Quince which is home to the majestic Chateau de Brissac. We excitedly piled out of the car and stood awestruck by the sight before us. The owner agreed to have one of his staff host us on a private guided tour which concluded with a wine tasting of the wines made from the Brissac family vineyards.


We began in The Grand Salon, elegant and lovely, adorned with gold and rich tapestries. The room had a warm and welcoming feel helped along by framed family photos sitting on top of the piano.


The next room was my favourite, The Dining Room. The table was laid with Hungarian china, the Brissac family china decorated with small, red-brested birds. Overlooking the large, oval dining table is a purpose built orchestra balcony, with a sweeping staircase leading up to it. Every wall is hung with antlers, trophies of the 2000 deer a descendant of the family had hunted in days gone by. The Brissac family use this room today for celebrations like Christmas.



The Reception Hall was next, its floor undulated gently under foot, worn away over the years by footsteps of visitors past. The individual shutters on every window that catch the afternoon sun are particular to this castle.

Just off the Reception Hall is the chamber of Louis XIII. Red velvet and dark wood give the room a regal, plush feel. It is filled with unique pieces of furniture like the chair made to sit backwards on with a padded back rest to lean your arms while playing chess; just the thing for hours of long contemplation. Under the top of the padded back rest are small compartments to store chess pieces in. Lift the seat and you have a porcelain potty so you never have to excuse yourself from your game. The blue hues of the tapestry in the chamber are well preserved as it is protected from light most of the time, it depicts Alexander The Great’s entry through the gates of Babylon. The heavy red drapes add a certain luxury and opulence and match perfectly the bed linen.


We are shown the guest room which can be rented out at €380 a night, breakfast and a tour of the castle included. Inside the room are ornaments of 16th century weaponry. Alex got to hold a mace which was great fun for him.

The Portrait Gallery is an elegant room with walls hung with portrait upon portrait; the most famous is of Madame Cliquot from the famed champagne house.

It is unusual to find a private theatre in any castle but Brissac has one of these too and it is decked out just like an old fashioned theatre should be, with layers and layers of red velvet curtains used to close every act. It appears as if straight from a movie with the walls and curtains emblazoned with intertwining C’s, the Brissac family moniker.

We descend into the coolness of the wine cellar for a wine tasting, we enjoy a rose, and two dashing reds, we buy one to enjoy in our castle back home.

What a surprise to have spent this time in such a historic place, I feel very honoured and how lovely for us four to all share in this special experience together.

Our final destination today is the town of Saumur on the banks of the Loire, which is home to the beautiful Chateau de Saumur, beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as our Chateau de Brissac that will forever hold a special place in all of our hearts.

We fly home on the freeway and pay horrendous tolls for the privilege, €13 euro in total ($26 AUD!). Julie has to pack tonight ready for her 6am train departing from Nantes SNCF station. We will leave home around 5 in the morning to get the tram into the station. My heart feels as though it is breaking at just the thought of Julie leaving. We have forged such special memories together in France, all of us have.

A Day In Nantes. Sunday 14th June 2009.

Julie and I left the boys at home for a while and discovered the delightful hidden beauty in the back streets of Nantes this morning. Jardin de la Psalette is tucked away far from the main streets, it seems a well kept secret, a place where locals come to sit in solitude under the shady trees with a side view of the aging stonework on the Cathedrale Saint Pierre.

Julie’s mission was to enjoy an authentic French eclair before her return to Oz. We found two beauties in La Boulangerie d’ Antan, mine filled with a rich caramel pastry cream and hers filled with chocolat, both were decorated with swirls of piped icing on a smooth bed of the same. We ate them together in the shade of an anonymous little park lined with wooden benches seemingly just made for times like this.

The discovery of Eglise Saint Nicholas was an unexpected surprise. Candles offered their warm glow inside, flooding the cold stone walls with warmth. I like it here, I like the big rust coloured doors left ajar welcoming us inside.

Lunch was a mixed bag today at Les Pieds dans le Plat. Everything was lovely except the decomposing salad leaves that accompanied our entrees, it was disguisting. The lovely waiter agreed and apologised graciously. My smoked duck was lovely as was my pave of boeuf sprinkled with the much loved local sea-salt.

We met JR and AJ on the tram, JR was very careful not to get our meeting arrangements mixed up today after yesterday’s debacle. The tram let us off at Motte-Rouge which was a short amble along L’Erdre to Ile de Versailles. We picked wild cherries and ate them, their blood-red juice staining everything it touched. We had come to hire a boat to putt along the river, but they were booked out as it was a lovely sunny Sunday and all of Nantes had had the same brilliant idea. Never mind, we assured AJ we would do it again another day, after all it was his idea and he was a little disappointed, the down side is that Auntie Julie will not be there to share in the fun. The Ile de Versailles was a great people watching spot, that whiled away some time.

Back on the tram and off again soon after, as we spotted a band playing on the banks of the river. Wierd was an understatement as they experimented with an eclectic range of musical styles to a very mixed crowd... interesting!



Back on another tram to Ile de Nantes where we walked along La Loire for what seemed and eternity to have dinner in the area of Hangar 32 and Hangar a Bananes, taking its name from when the hangar was used to ripen masses of bananas ready for eating. It was about 8ish when we got there, and to our amazement, all of the places were closing for the night or were only bars with snacks. The precinct was great, very arty attracting a young and interesting crowd, but we wanted to eat and there were no options. Back to pounding the pavement and along the way we discovered the coolest playground. We all had turns on the flying-fox which I gotta say was pretty scary! AJ loved it, what fun we all had. We decided not to scour the city for a suitable restaurant tonight and headed home for a hearty plate of tagliatelle carbonara, it was delicious and well worth the wait by the time we ate at 11pm!

AJ disappeared from the dining table after dinner, he returned saying, “Madames, your foot soak awaits you in the bathroom”. He had run an ankle deep bath of cold water with a dash of sweet smelling bath soak. Julie and I sat on the edge of the bath and soaked our aching feet until we felt better again. Alex delivered to us our drink of choice, mine a Bailey’s and Julie’s a vin rouge. Love ya AJ! JR and AJ cleaned up the kitchen and there was not a thing left for us girls to do, thanks guys. X