Les Machines de Lile. Tuesday 23rd June 2009.

The sun shone brightly on the garden this morning. I wandered about checking the progress of the raspberries, strawberries, red-currants and zucchinis; they were all coming along just fine. The warmth had sprouted many new berries for us to enjoy over the coming week and the zucchinis had doubled in size from the day before.

We arrived at Nante’s premier tourist attraction at 1pm, in time to visit the Galleries of the machines before our ride on the giant, mechanical elephant at 2.45. We fronted up to the ticket desk to buy our tickets to both the gallery and the ride, this was not possible. We could only buy the ticket to the Gallery, then, at 2pm precisely, we had to come back to the same ticket desk to purchase the ticket to ride the giant elephant at 2.45. Strange we thought and shared a little chuckle. We bought our first ticket and had one hour to visit the gallery, when 2pm came, one of us would duck out, buy the tickets to the elephant ride and come back into the gallery to finish the tour. This was not possible. Once you were in you had to complete the tour. We were perplexed at why we could not buy both tickets at once allowing us until 2.45pm to explore the gallery and then go straight to the elephant. Oh well, it was not possible. We toured the gallery which was a little ho hum, after all, the staff had kicked the joy out of us at first sight. We returned to the ticket desk at two minutes before two and ordered 3 tickets to ride the elephant. No, this was not possible, we were two minutes early. Can you believe the administration of these places, it’s crazy! We all shared another little giggle, waited precisely two minutes and when the magic hour of 2pm arrived the lady behind the counter said, ‘Now, you can buy your tickets to the elephant’. Voila! We are still unable to work out what had changed to allow the ticket seller to process our request but were happy to have the tickets in hand. Now we had 45 minutes to twiddle our thumbs before the ride, after all, it was not possible to re-enter the Gallery.

They had the strangest toilet signs too!

The ride was wonderful and so much fun, you can see by the pictures we were so high up, it was well worth the palaver to get there.

We BBQ’d the French way tonight – without a Barbie Mate or gas. It was fun and JR showed AJ how to light the fire and keep it going and they both did a smashing job of the snags!

St. Nazaire Is Not My Cup Of Tea. Monday 22nd June 2009.

Up until today I thought that France only boasted charming villages and cities with cobbled streets and picture perfect views at every turn – St. Nazaire has proved me wrong. It’s big, boring, industrial, and of no interest to me at all. I can see it would hold some interest for blokes, and JR certainly saw its charm. It is home to a huge ship building industry, 2 cruise ships were under completion in the docks the day we visited. The drive over the St. Nazaire bridge to Saint Brevin sports a great view of the Loire flowing out to sea.

I’ll leave it at that.

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