Les Lavandes

In old Pouance

2011-12-16T15:48:00.003Z

This is the only picture I took on our recent flying visit.

Another dawn

2011-11-19T10:18:00.002Z

Because it is situated almost at the extreme western end of its time zone, La Prévière can be a good spot to see the dawn without having to get up early - especially in October.

Chartres

2011-11-14T10:58:00.003Z

On our journey both to and from the Auvergne we spent a night at Chartres. The cathedral is considered a Gothic masterpiece and I allowed time on our return trip for a visit. We had seen it before, many years ago, but my memory of that occasion was vague, as was Mrs S's.

Having booked into our hotel, we had time to spare before dinner so we set off (by car) towards the city centre. I eventually managed to get fairly near to what I thought to be the centre, although the cathedral was hidden by the high buildings by which we were surrounded. I was lucky enough to find a blue badge parking space and we got out of the car and crossed the square in which I had parked, only to find that we had arrived slap in the middle of the shopping centre and not within walking distance of the cathedral for Mrs S. We made our way back to the hotel for dinner.

The following morning we tried again, and this time managed to park just 100 yards from the cathedral. Walking round to admire the west front, one of the most spectacular in Europe, we were disappointed to find it clad in scaffolding and completely hidden from view. We got back in the car and headed for the Channel.

Two for the price of one?

2011-11-13T10:25:00.002Z

The French very nearly have two Rivers Loire. There is the Loire, feminine and spelled with an 'e' at the end, and then there is the Loir, masculine and without an 'e' to its name.

La Loire (feminine, with an 'e') is the longest river in France. It rises in the volcanic mountains of the Auvergne, flows north and then turns west before finally emerging into the Bay of Biscay by St Nazaire after some 629 miles. Le Loir (masculine, without an 'e') on the other hand, is a mere tributary of the larger Loire - although there are those who claim it a more beautiful river. I have no photo of le Loir and the picture above is of La Loire at Champtoceaux, just a few miles upstream from Nantes, near the Atlantic.

A la memoire

2011-11-11T01:01:00.000Z

At the side of the road from Blesle to Lautrec. The inscription reads:

To our cousin. In memory of Alphonse Florin of the French Forces of the Interior. Assassinated by the Boches 7 August 1944 aged 24.

Invasion

2011-11-08T10:35:00.001Z

The wisteria was nearly into the upstairs bedroom.

Passiflora

2011-11-07T10:45:00.002Z

The passion flower had sprawled right across the door to the shed where the gardening tools are kept.

The Last Rose of Summer

2011-11-06T16:08:00.002Z

I wanted to prune the roses and it seemed a shame just to consign this bloom to the tip with the cuttings so I brought it indoors and it filled the living room with a beautiful perfume. Until then we hadn't realised that this rose is fragrant! The buds never came to anythings.

This wasn't really the last rose. We have a couple of low, ground-cover rose bushes that were still in bloom when we left just over a week ago.

La Porte Angevine

2011-11-05T08:45:00.000Z

The medieval gateway affording entrance to the old town of Pouancé is no longer closed at night.

Near the town hall

2011-11-04T09:15:00.000Z

The buildings in this yard almost opposite the town hall are not nearly as impressive.

The crossroads of Europe

2011-11-03T08:56:00.001Z

The town hall in Pouancé is situated on a road junction. Also at this junction is the office of the notaire where I had to go to complete the purchase of our house. I have stopped here several times since to see what properties are advertised for sale but it was only on this last trip that I noticed the junction has been named as "the crossroads of Europe". Just shows how much we look but don't see - although given the multiplicity of signs at this junction that might not be surprising. On a pedantic note, my dictionary defines carrefour as "crossroads" and this is a T-junction. Interesting that somebody has translated carrefour as "meeting point". I checked my dictionary and found that the word is used in a different context as forum or symposium - which I suppose could, at a stretch, mean meeting point. Just why an obscure town in western France should think one of its road junctions is the crossroads of Europe is something I can't explain.

You might note that one of the roads is named after General de Gaulle, which seems to be almost obligatory in every French town!

Town Hall gardens

2011-11-02T08:45:00.000Z

There is a delightful little park behind the town hall in Pouancé.

The Town Hall

2011-11-01T09:16:00.000Z

Leaving the Auvergne - for a while, at least - we are back in Pouancé where the Town Hall looks very imposing, especially for a small town with less than 4,000 inhabitants! Actually, it's not as big as it looks as it is only one room deep. Extra offices have been built in the grounds.

Two coffees, please

2011-10-31T11:08:00.002Z

I do like French coffee. Ask for a coffee in a French bar or restaurant and what is automatically brought to you is an espresso; small, dark, strong and (one hopes) hot. There is one bar we used to stop at regularly where I became aware of a bit of a scam over coffee and Englishmen. I ordered a coffee in exactly the same way as every Frenchman does - "Un café, s'il vous plait" - expecting the usual espresso. What came was un double, a large (double-size) espresso at twice the price. This happened several times before I twigged and insisted on being served a normal café.

Mrs S likes her coffee white - which leads to several different complications. The first doesn't really matter, but we do find it amusing when her request for café au lait (coffee with milk) is repeated by the waiter or waitress as café crême (coffee with cream). She actually prefers milk to cream in her coffee but this doesn't matter as she is invariably served with milk. We have never fathomed why it is that in some bars, white coffee is café au lait while in others it is café crême.

The next question isn't always asked: does she want her milk hot or cold? It is always brought in a separate jug to be added as she wishes, but sometimes it is brought hot and sometimes cold - and sometimes, albeit rarely, she is given the choice. In our favourite restaurant the proprietor remembers that she prefers her milk cold, but he always makes a point of checking that is what she wants - especially in cold weather when she does sometimes ask for hot milk.

The really awkward complication arises in our village restaurant. What size cup does she want? In most places the answer is accepted readily: small. A standard espresso is served with its accompanying jug of milk. Except at Le Fourneau. Nicholas, bless him, complicates matters by asking is the size is normal, medium or large. The problem is that sometimes his 'normal' is the standard espresso but sometimes it is un double. A request for a 'small' rather throws him, even if the request is spoken in French.

Which reminds me of another complication that arose while we were in the Auvergne. It was while we were on our way to the source of the Loire and we decided to stop at a roadside bar for a coffee. There was a man behind the bar of about my age (ie getting on a bit) to whom I posed my request for two coffees, one white, one black. I spoke in French, as usual, in the expectation that my request would be understood despite my English accent.

[Going off at a tangent: I am told that the French consider French spoken with an English accent to be sexy, just as we think of English spoken with a French accent.]

So, I expected to be understood - but I wasn't. So I repeated the order. Still the Gallic shrug and a puzzled expression. I tried using slightly different words. 'Two drinks,' (waving two fingers), 'one black coffee,' (waving one finger), 'and one coffee with milk,' (waving one finger again). At this, the barman disappeared and returned with a lady (his daughter?). I repeated my request for two coffees, one white, one black, in my very best French with a sexy English accent. The lady turned to the man and said exactly the same as I had (but without the sexy English accent) and, wonder of wonders, he understood!

That is the only time I have had difficulty in making myself understood when ordering coffee.

Farm buildings

2011-10-30T10:54:00.001Z

The roof may not be exactly picturesque, but I liked the way the walls at the ends of this barn were stepped.

And I still don't know quiote what it is about this scene that appeals to me!

No use

2011-10-29T12:29:00.001+01:00

This is one thing that we didn't use. We don't send postcards when we are away on holiday, partly because we are usually back home before they arrive!

Le Val du Dordogne

2011-10-20T09:57:00.000+01:00

There is lush grass in the lower part of the valley but things look a little different up where the ski lift starts.

Le Mont Dore

2011-10-19T10:20:00.002+01:00

Le Mont Dore is a largish town sitting at the opening of a valley - le Val du Dordogne - which leads to the ski resort at the foot of the Puy de Sancy, the highest point on the horizon in this photo.

Locks and chains

2011-10-18T09:42:00.000+01:00

The church at Orcival. A notice explains the chains fastened to the wall:

The balls and chains which have hung on the wall of the south transept for centuries are a reminder that Our Lady of Orcival is invoked under the name of Our Lady of Irons. People prayed to her for the return of captives and prisoners. Those who returned from their captivity offered their chains to Our Lady in gratitude and as votive offerings. Note above the door, above the XII on the dial of the clock, a virgin with child from the sixteenth century: a chained man is on his knees praying to the virgin for his release.

I was more taken with the ancient locks on the door.

Orcival

2011-10-17T09:24:00.000+01:00

Having seen our fill of les roches, we drove on and very nearly missed the attractive little town of Orcival as the road bypasses it. Fortunately, I spotted the one road leading into the town (there are three leading out!).

Les Roches Tuilière & Sanadoire

2011-10-16T11:23:00.003+01:00

Returning from our abhortive trip to the Puy de Dôme, we took a different route and passed a view point overlooking these rocks, Tuilière on the left and Sanadoire on the right. As far as I have been able to make out (I'm ashamed to say I have still not translated completely the informative notice displayed in the car park) these are the plugs in two extinct volcanoes.

Murol

2011-10-15T10:49:00.002+01:00

Our route to the Puy de Dôme took us past the small town of Murol with its chateau high on a hill overlooking the town, as seems to be the practice in this part of France. It was here that we turned out of the valley along which we had been driving and headed for the hills.

Puy de Dôme

2011-10-14T08:49:00.000+01:00

One of the highest of the extinct volcanoes is the Puy de Dôme at 1464m (about 4500 feet) and this has a road to the top. It was a fair drive from our cottage but we went there one day - only to find the road closed because they are building a railway up the mountain! But we were delighted with some of the sights we would not have seen if we hadn't made the journey.

What the...?

2011-10-13T09:03:00.000+01:00

Look again at yesterday's photo and you will see something projecting from the wall at the top of the stairs.

It looks a bit like a stoop for holy water as seen just inside the doors of ancient churches. But what about those hieroglyphics carved into it?

And it doesn't help that the mouth is actually a hole so any water or other liquid would simply run out. Our usually loquacious host who was full of the history and legends of the nearby village of Blesle apparently hadn't even noticed this oddity just outside his own property and was unable to provide any explanation.

Up the stairs

2011-10-12T09:39:00.000+01:00

The door at the top of the stairs has certainly seen better days. I couldn't decide what the building had been originally but it is now used as storage by the farmer across the lane.

Back in Montmoirat

2011-10-11T11:02:00.002+01:00

This flight of steps was just round the corner from the entrance to "our" courtyard. They were obviously constructed before the age of health and safety!

Great views

2011-10-10T11:09:00.002+01:00

Seen while driving across the Plateau de l'Artense.

La Loire

2011-10-09T10:45:00.003+01:00

The source of the River Loire is only about a quarter of a mile from where we were parked but very few people bothered to make their way to the spring. I did.

"My journey to the ocean starts here." A few miles away, France's longest river has grown to this:

Some 600 miles later, this is what it looks like at Ancenis.

Gerbier de Jonc

2011-10-08T09:05:00.000+01:00

The Gerbier de Jonc is one of those pointy-topped mountains, just like those drawn by children, which are so common in the Auvergne. When we arrived it became obvious that there was no way to drive the car to the summit.

Plenty of people had parked and started the climb/scramble/stiff walk. We just parked and admired the view from the car park.

More to my liking

2011-10-07T09:00:00.000+01:00

Nowhere near the viaduct, not even on the route that day, but in a pretty valley not far from Blesle, this bridge over the tiny River Sianne is grass-covered and has no side-walls or barriers. It just leads into a field.

A bigger bridge

2011-10-06T08:53:00.000+01:00

It appeared from my map that one could drive to the summit of a volcano situated south-east of Le Puy en Velay and close to the source of the River Loire. Thinking it might be interesting to visit both, we set off. Our route took as past the Recoumene viaduct - beneath it, fortunately, rather than across it. Even driving under it I could feel the vertigo!

Polignac

2011-10-05T08:34:00.000+01:00

The bridge in yesterday's picture was owned by Viscount Polignac. By sheer coincidence, we had passed the village of Polignac earlier that morning.

There is more information about the Polignac family and the chateau here.

Brives-Charensac

2011-10-04T08:19:00.000+01:00

From Le Puy en Velay we moved on to Brives-Charensac, which is actually little more than a suburb of Le Puy. We ate a picnic lunch beside the River Loire (yes, the same River Loire that is only 30 minutes drive from our house!) within sight of the old toll bridge.

The powers-that-be (or that were once) had kindly erected a notice relating the history of the bridge and thoughtfully provided an English translation so I don't need to key all that in.

Le Puy en Velay

2011-10-03T09:24:00.000+01:00

I had seen a picture of Le Puy en Velay and had rather assumed it to be a small town whereas it is actually a fairly large city. I had read that all the approach roads have places for drivers to pull over to admire the view but I had not appreciated its situation in a valley. I did know the town (as I thought) was dominated by two or more tall rock formations (just the two, it turned out).

One of the rocks, the taller of the two, supports a stature of Notre Dame de France. It is possible to access the statue. We didn't bother to attempt the climb. From the Let's Go travel guide I learned:

The pinnacle of the vieille ville is the Rocher Corneille, a 757m tall core of a volcano. A 23m statue of the Virgin Mary cast from Russian cannons captured during the Crimean War crowns the summit. The structure earned fame in 1942 when 20,000 young people came here to pray for France’s liberation. The statue itself is more impressive from the bottom of the hill; a steep climb inside leads only to a small chamber marred by graffiti.

(I rather think the 757m is an overstatement.)

The local tourist office gives more detail:

On 8th September 1855, the feastday of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, General Pélissier won victory at the siege of Sebastopol in the Crimean War. In gratitude he advised Bishop Mgr de Morlhon to ask the Emperor Napoleon III for some of the cannons captured from the enemy, in order to make a statue that the diocese of Le Puy wished to dedicate to Notre-Dame de France. Sculpted by Jean-Marie Bonnassieux, the statue is made of cast iron from the 213 canons from Sebastopol. It was inaugurated on 12th September 1860 in the presence of 120,000 pilgrims. The statue is 16 metres high (22.7m with the pedestal) and weighs 835 metric tonnes (110 tonnes for the statue, 680 the stone pedestal and 45 the iron coating).

The Chapelle Saint-Michel D’Aiguille is on the second rock formation. Again from Let's Go:

This chapel sits atop an 80m spike of volcanic rock. Erected in the 10th century by Le Puy’s bishop after he returned from a pilgrimage to [Santiago de] Compostela, the church’s colorful front conceals an interior full of recently restored frescoes.

Even without climbing either of the rocks, it was well worth the drive to see this city.

Villages...

2011-10-02T09:20:00.000+01:00

...spilled down the hillsides...

... or perched on ridges.

Solitude

2011-10-01T08:47:00.000+01:00

Some of the farms on the higher ground in the Auvergne are pretty isolated.

Col de la Vazeze

2011-09-30T08:41:00.000+01:00

Checking in at 1295 metres, a bit over 4000 feet, the Col (mountain pass) de la Vazeze might not be considered particularly high. All the same, it is higher than any mountain top in England. The plateau stretches for several miles but some of the volcanoes of the Auvergne can be seen in the distance.

Morning mist

2011-09-29T10:25:00.002+01:00

It was a little strange how morning mist would sometimes linger in some valleys but not in others. Most days it cleared quickly to leave bright blue skies.

St Madeleine's Chapel

2011-09-28T08:31:00.000+01:00

As far to the south of Blesle as Léotoing is to the north lies the small town of Massiac. Just outside Massiac, high on a rocky promontory, is St Madeleine's Chapel.

Above, the chapel from the supermarket car park on the edge of town, and below, the chapel with Massiac in the valley.

Given my fear of heights, it took quite a bit of nerve to get that picture!

Léotoing chapel

2011-09-27T09:20:00.000+01:00

Located on a site overlooking the valley of the River Alagnon, Léotoing chapel, surmounted by a bell-wall with a unique arch, probably dates from the late 18th century. The building, built on a rock, is typical of small rural buildings using local building materials. According to tradition it is called "Chapel of the Lepers" and it would have been built outside the walls of the village to avoid contact with sick people.

The view from the chapel is superb. Château Torsiac stands on its own ridge above the River Alagnon and over looking the village of Lanau.

Léotoing

2011-09-26T08:57:00.001+01:00

A short distance along the road from the auberge is a turning into a narrow, twisting road that climbs steeply to the village of Léotoing.

The chateau lords it over the red rooves and narrow streets of the village where only residents' cars are permitted.

Auberge des Pecheurs

2011-09-25T07:45:00.001+01:00

Roughly translates as Fishermen's Inn.

The auberge stands close to a river and under the eyes of the Chateau de Leotoing. It is not the sort of place many tourists would stop at and we would have passed it without a second glance had it not been highly recommended by our hosts.

Perhaps not the most inspiring of bars, especially the living room for the proprietors tucked in a corner.

But we had a first-class meal: mixed salad, followed by fresh trout (presumably from the river) with fried potatoes and French beans, and with pear tart for desert. With half a litre of wine and coffee the price was 23 euros for the two of us.

We went back later in the week when the bouef bourguignon was superb - and the price still 23 euros!

A gruesome tale

2011-09-24T10:47:00.003+01:00

Mrs S would have found it too difficult to explore the village of Blesle of foot and much of it is inaccessible by car so one morning she sat on the hotel terrace (the blue tables and chairs in Wednesday's picture) with a coffee while I roamed with a camera. There are several very pleasant little squares in the village, like this one outside the church. The archway in the corner leads to another where there are several houses once occupied by the nuns of the abbey of which the church formed a part. The nuns were all from wealthy families so most of them lived in their own houses, presumably with servants, which seems a contravention of the basic precepts. The church is unusual in that the choir is situated behind the altar rather than between the altar and the nave. This is so that the nuns of the choir were out of the sight of the laity.

Our host, a retired Unitarian Church minister, took great delight in recounting the tale of what happened to the nuns at the time of the French revolution. Being aristos, they were raped and killed, some of them by being impaled on spikes in the choir stalls in the church. He, our host, maintained that the church always felt gloomy to him as a result. I didn't go in, not wanting to leave Mrs S on her own for too long, so am unable to confirm or deny the accuracy of this comment.

Still in Blesle

2011-09-23T09:22:00.000+01:00

This attractive corner will look even better once that house has been renovated.

Coffee time.

Blesle

2011-09-22T10:31:00.003+01:00

A couple of pictures taken while sitting in the sun at the tables on the right of yesterday's picture.

Montmoirat to Blesle

2011-09-21T08:29:00.000+01:00

The name of the hamlet where we stayed was Montmoirat and this was five miles from what was known as "the village", being Blesle where there were reputedly shops, bars and restaurants. The five mile journey was all on a steep, twisting mountain road, downhill all the way. I managed to average more than 200mpg over this journey on more than one occasion. the drive wasn't helped when the road works started. These involved a JCB blocking the road completely while scraping at the mountain-side in an attempt to widen the road. The spoil was being dumped over the side a short distance away and then being compacted to widen the road there as well!

Blesle is described officially as one of the most beautiful villages in France, and it is delightful. The first picture shows the view we had as we approached down the mountain.

And this is the main street shaded by plane trees.

The Auvergne

2011-09-20T10:56:00.005+01:00

So we had another week in France - a proper holiday this time, not just time in our second home. We stayed in a gite (a holiday cottage) that had been converted from a forge tacked onto an old farmhouse.

The courtyard.

This was in what the locals called a village but which we English would probably say was too small to merit that description. There can't have been more than a couple of dozen inhabitants. Well, maybe three dozen.

The village street.

Back in England

2011-08-13T12:39:00.002+01:00

After the emptiness of the roads in France, English motorways can come as a bit of a shock.

Eurotunnel again

2011-08-11T09:15:00.000+01:00

The carriages for cars are a little more sophisticated than those for lorries. They have proper walls and roofs (rooves?) as well as toilets. There are two decks (except for a few single-deck carriages for coaches and other high vehicles) but passengers are not encouraged to leave their vehicles. The dark car in the picture just entering the train will then drive up a steep ramp to the top deck while the silver car also entering the train will remain on the lower deck.

Eurotunnel

2011-08-10T09:23:00.000+01:00

The passenger trains running through the tunnel under the Channel from London to Paris and Brussels are operated by Eurostar wheres the car- and lorry-carrying trains running between Folkestone and Calais are operated by Eurotunnel. There are two types of Eurotunnel trains: freight and passenger. The freight trains, seen here, are the ones for lorries and the carriages are more or less open with a sort of metal grid around the vehicles. Lorries are driven on at the part where there is no side grid and then along the train in an orderly queue. I don't know if the drivers stay in the cabs or if there is a separate lounge for them. The crossing takes 35 minutes.

Bataille de Crécy

2011-08-09T08:56:00.000+01:00

Given the size of the "advertisement" on the motorway, the actual site of the battle proves a little disappointing, as we found out last year.

New houses

2011-08-08T10:33:00.003+01:00

This new housing estate is different from most. Granted, there are also similarities with all the other new housing developments - and there are plenty. Every village and town seems to be expanding at quite a rate, much faster than here in England. But I suppose there is less pressure on the land in France. But to get back to what new developments are like. For one thing, many of them feature houses which are individually designed. It seems the plot is bought by an individual who then has his house designed and built for him rather than a property developer buying a large plot and building identical houses which he then hopes to sell.

This development is a little different in that the houses have been painted in differing colours. Most new houses in French villages are painted a deep, buttery cream but here we see more subtle shades, including pale grey. Another difference is that some of the houses - the one on the right is an example - are timber clad instead of being plaster rendered as most new houses are.

The plots on this development are much the same as on most others - not very big - and that seems to go for the houses as well.

It always strikes us (Mrs S and me) as strange that the French prefer to live in rabbit hutches jammed close together than in some of the older houses one finds in the country which are falling down because no-one wants them.

Oh well, vive la difference.

Gate replacement

2011-08-07T11:11:00.003+01:00

One of the earliest jobs to be done after we had bought the house was to replace the gates to the courtyard. The old gates were both ugly and rotting. They consisted of... Well, you can see for yourself.

I think they were about 4 feet high and the vertical bars were about two inches wide. They just had to go. I was unable to buy ready-made gates in the style we wanted that would fit the gap so I was reduced to making the new ones myself. This is them.

I was very proud of those gates but unfortunately one of them started rotting badly a couple of years back and had to be replaced. As I had done when I first made the gates, I took the measurements and bought the timber in England. I even made up the gates in England, but I had learned one lesson and took the replacement to France before painting it.

Earlier this year I noticed that the second gate had started rotting so when we were over there last I decided to make a start on replacing it. I bought the timber, cut it to size, put it together, gave it two coats of primer/undercoat and a first top coat. Next time I will give it another top coat before fighting to get the hinges off the old gate. (That is likely to be a story in itself.)

What this reminded me is why I have, in the past, bought the timber in England. Timber in France costs almost half as much again as it does in England. This replacement gate wouldn't have cost much more if it were made of solid silver!

The salt store

2011-08-06T09:24:00.000+01:00

This rather sad looking building with boarded-up door and windows is to be found just outside the entrance to the castle in Pouancé. There is a sign on the side of the building:

which would seem to say that this is, or was, a 17th century salt store from which 20 parishes received their supplies but a high tax on salt levied by the king gave rise to smuggling between Brittany and Anjou.

Pouancé castle

2011-08-05T08:42:00.000+01:00

It is rather more impressive when viewed from the other side of the lake than from inside the walls.

The castle gate

2011-08-04T09:29:00.000+01:00

The entrance to the castle in Pouancé is remarkably similar in design to la Porte Angevine although this is on a smaller scale and is less elaborate.

La Porte Angevine

2011-08-03T10:58:00.002+01:00

I suppose what might be called the "classic" view of Pouancé's medieval gateway, la Porte Agevine, is more or less as in yesterday's smaller picture. That is, from the outside of what were the town walls. The narrow road on the inside - narrower than on the outside - is also lined with shops, although sadly many of these are empty, and leads to a not-particularly-attractive square with a fountain.

A medieval weekend

2011-08-02T08:31:00.000+01:00

I suppose that in Pouancé, the Grand Cafe du Commerce (closed in the evening) is about as close as one gets to the centre of town, the place where it all happens. Anyway, the weekend we arrived there was a medieval theme with a camp in the field opposite the castle, storming of the castle an so on and so forth. Banners were strung across the streets in as many as four places!! All joking aside, we heard it was very interesting. Unfortunately, we only heard about it after the event.

On the subject of signs

2011-08-01T10:47:00.004+01:00

Given that it was light until at least 10.00pm while we were in France the week before last, we were driving back from Châteaubriant after dinner in almost full daylight so I often took a scenic route. One evening I drove to a place where I thought we would be able to see the lake La Blisiere. Unfortunately, we couldn't, but I was delighted to find this sign. It had previously been in a different spot but had been replaced with a more permanent reminder. Somehow I had always found the old hand-painted sign moving and I hope that it will be retouched and cherished once more in its new home.

Le Fourneau

2011-07-31T09:18:00.001+01:00

We usually eat in the village restaurant once while we are over in La Prévière and our last visit was no exception. As always, I telephoned at lunch time to warn Nicolas that we wanted to eat chez lui and confirmed that we would arrive at 7.30, which just happens to be the advertised opening time of the restaurant.

We are now sufficiently Frenchified to know that if we book a table for, as in this case, 7.30, there is no way that the restaurant owner will expect us at that time. Nicolas has told us that if a French party book a table, they might turn up anything up to an hour after the appointed time. It is only the English who are punctual. So, we never turn up at the time we have booked, usually reckoning that 10 minutes late is a reasonable compromise. So it was that lest week we turned up at 7.40, only to find the restaurant door firmly locked - which is unusual in itself. We stood about for five or ten minutes before I set off to explore the garden, thinking that Nicolas might well have been distracted and not noticed the time. But no, he was nowhere to be found. Eventually he arrived just before 8.00, full of apologies. He and Florence had been shopping and had been held up behind a farmer on a tractor on the way home. He insisted we have aperitifs on the house, his own version of sangria. I don't see it as being a great success on the Costa del Sol, but the meal was its usual excellent quality. I started with escargots, drenched in olive oil and garlic, followed by hoki, a fish which I have seen nowhere else and to which I am very partial. Florence served it with a Provencal sauce, French beans, grilled tomato and a potato cake. Then there was the cheese course (just two small pieces with some dressed lettuce) and dessert was panna cotta, a new addition to the menu and I gathered we were among the first to try it. Two dishes, one with raspberry sauce and one with caramel. First class. All washed down with half a litre of red wine between the two of us and followed by good, strong, French coffee.

More signs

2011-07-30T09:03:00.000+01:00

Many, although by no means all the farms around us sport these rather smart signs which were, I rather assume, distributed by the local council. When I first saw them I wondered how I could acquire one like them for our house. Then I thought again. It's only the farms that have them. There are two things for which the French are particularly noted: looking after their farmers (who will down tools and block roads with their tractors at the drop of a hat), and bureaucracy. So, as I am not a farmer there is probably little chance of me getting one of these signs - and in any case the red tape involved would far outweigh the pleasure I might derive from owning a smart name sign like these. Anyway, our name sign (hand painted - but not by me - on a piece of slate we brought back from Wales) is actually most appropriate as we are close to the ancient slate mining region of France and a town not a million miles away boasts a slate museum.

Sign post

2011-07-29T10:04:00.002+01:00

In the countryside, many houses have neither name nor number but are just part of a small hamlet and are known by the name of the hamlet. Others, usually farms, do have names. Either way, signs like this are common.

Pouancé aerodrome

2011-07-28T06:19:00.000+01:00

I've known pretty much from the off that Pouancé boasted an aerodrome but until last week I had never got round to actually finding it. I always knew where it was but it seemed one had to drive over private land to reach it. The real approach road has now been made more obvious, though I can't think why! This is the "terminal" building - in more ways than one!

Not ready yet

2011-07-27T06:55:00.002+01:00

The barley may have been ready for harvesting, but these sunflowers weren't - although there were some that looked much nearer ready.

Time for reflection

2011-07-26T06:24:00.000+01:00

The farmers might have been working hard to get the harvest in but this chap had time on his hands in the shadow of the castle in Châteaubriant.

Harvest time

2011-07-25T10:26:00.002+01:00

The farmers were working hard to get in the harvest while we were there last week. It wasn't wet all the time!

What happened to the weather?

2011-07-24T11:53:00.003+01:00

There we were, planning a sunny, warm (maybe even very warm) week down in the Loire valley, and what happened? Well, for a start, it rained practically all the while we were driving down there. Not much this side of the Channel, but pretty well continuously after we reached Calais. I think the windscreen wipers were off for about 10 minutes in 6 hours. OK, it didn't rain as much as that during the week but the sky stayed grey all day every day - until about 9.00pm when it cleared up! But I was able to get the flame thrower out to clear the weeds from the courtyard.

Before...

...and after.

That was enough work for Sunday.

Bastille Day

2011-07-14T10:37:00.003+01:00

Today is Bastille Day. Last year we were in France on their national day and thoroughly enjoyed the magnificent fireworks display put on free of charge in the nearby town of Pouancé.

Sunflowers

2011-07-11T12:09:00.003+01:00

I hope we shall see scenes like this when we are in France next week.

Plastic flowers

2011-07-07T09:51:00.000+01:00

For some unfathomable reason - unfathomable to me at any rate - the French have a love affair with artificial flowers. Many restaurants use them on tables instead of fresh flowers and elaborate displays of silk or plastic flowers are commonly seen on window sills or shelves. Even this grotto or shrine has many bunches of plastic flowers!

Thanks

2011-07-05T10:52:00.003+01:00

Messages of thanks left at the shrine in the last picture.

The shrine

2011-07-03T11:08:00.003+01:00

It is common to see a wayside Calvary or cross in rural France. They usually mark a "mission" to Lourdes or some other place of pilgrimage. Occasionally one comes across a small shrine like this one a couple of miles down the road from us.

Armaille

2011-07-02T15:51:00.002+01:00

An pleasant picnic spot not a million miles away.

Foxgloves

2011-06-29T15:40:00.002+01:00

The French roadsides seem to have many more wild flowers than the English. Foxgloves were blooming when we were over there last month.

A couple of miles down the road

2011-06-25T11:36:00.002+01:00

La Primaudiere by moonlight.

On the way home

2011-06-24T10:16:00.001+01:00

Sées cathedral viewed from the A28 motorway as we passed at 70mph. Don't worry - I wasn't driving at the time.

One last look

2011-06-23T11:03:00.003+01:00

I have tried several times to take a picture of La Prévière from the north with a notable lack of success. This is probably the nearest I have got to what I want.

Heading north

2011-06-22T10:36:00.006+01:00

Heading north from the village we pass this small lake or large pond. Although my friend Chris had photographed it years ago (the small picture to the left), it was only on our recent visit that I did so.

Meanwhile, back in the village

2011-06-21T09:35:00.000+01:00

The roses in the Place de l'Eglise are in full bloom.

The field next door

2011-06-20T10:27:00.001+01:00

We've seen the farmer grow sweet corn and wheat in this field and this year he's growing cows.

Electricity

2011-06-19T11:18:00.002+01:00

The French, I have found, have a tendency to be blasé about electricity, especially electrical wiring. Both indoors and out, wires are strung between any convenient points and if a roadside pole breaks or is knocked down, the result will frequently be wires trailing for weeks in the ditch - which may be filled with water! On the other hand, if a suitable forked stick is available, why not use it?

Reach for the sky

2011-06-18T10:42:00.002+01:00

It seems as though the builders of the church in this small village were determined to do just that.

Carbay

2011-06-17T09:21:00.000+01:00

The church of St Martin.

Just down the road

2011-06-16T11:25:00.004+01:00

Strictly speaking, this street scene in Carbay is round the corner from yesterday's view, not down the road. I think the house with the sign hanging outside is or was a bar. Note also the village post box.

End of the road in Carbay

2011-06-15T10:50:00.003+01:00

Carbay is a village even smaller than ours. It lies at a crossroads of quiet, narrow lanes which we sometimes use when driving to Châteaubriant. We have been watching as this once large house has slowly disintegrated. It seems such a shame as it must once have been a very desirable property.

End of the road

2011-06-14T10:50:00.003+01:00

With a chain slung across the track, that bar won't get much trade, passing or otherwise.

The first time I came across this, my friend Chris was with me. It was a hot day and we had been doing some dusty work on the house. We fancied a quiet drink, remembered having seen the first of those signs, so decided to investigate. What a disappointment.

Another sign

2011-06-13T09:18:00.000+01:00

We have travelled the better part of a mile from the first sign and now we are being directed down an even more pot-holed and rutted track. I can't imagine they get an awful lot of passing trade at this bar.

Keep going

2011-06-12T09:03:00.001+01:00

Once under the trees, the tarmac surface disappears and the lane becomes a pot-holed, rutted track. But is that a spot of red just where the track disappears round a bend?

To the forest

2011-06-11T09:49:00.000+01:00

This lane leads between the fields to the rather dark and forbidding-looking Forêt de Juigné.

Turn left again

2011-06-10T09:16:00.000+01:00

After passing several fields and a farmhouse, we eventually come to the junction with an even narrower lane with another sign.

Bar de la Boulaie

2011-06-09T09:09:00.000+01:00

We pass this sign every time we drive to Châteaubriant but it points along a lane that would take us out of our way.

Make hay while the sun shines

2011-06-08T10:43:00.003+01:00

I don't recall having seen hay made into big bales before. Silage, yes, but not hay.

The beach

2011-06-07T10:10:00.000+01:00

Grass seems to have grown on the beach since I last came by here, but that was a few years back. The village in the background is St Aubin.

L'étang du St Aubin

2011-06-06T11:00:00.003+01:00

Just to the north of Pouancé and almost separated from it by the pond is the village of St Aubin. The pond is large enough to allow part of the bank to be reserved for fishermen (the part shown in the picture) and part to be used as a beach, while part of the pond is used for boating.

Château de Tressé

2011-06-05T09:05:00.000+01:00

Situated just to the south of Pouancé, this is now a hospital, a psychiatric hospital, I think.

More roadside flowers

2011-06-04T10:00:00.000+01:00

There is a part of Châteaubriant where the road is lined by garages, builders' merchants, large supermarkets, DIY stores, agricultural suppliers and so on, each with its own car park. Rather American in its way. One of the stores is a garden centre and that is the only part of the road where wild flowers were growing by the side. Coincidental but highly appropriate.

Beside the road

2011-06-03T09:01:00.000+01:00

I had to clamber down into the ditch to take this picture. Fortunately, the ditch was dry.

A difference

2011-06-02T09:41:00.000+01:00

In English villages, the cemetery is the graveyard surrounding the church, but in France the cemetery is always right on the edge of the village. And not for them overgrown lawns with beds of nettles in the corners. Their cemeteries are always covered in a fine grit.

Back in the square

2011-06-01T11:15:00.002+01:00

The roses in the Place de l'Eglise are now in full bloom.

The village bus stop

2011-05-31T15:17:00.002+01:00

Tucked behind the crucifix commemorating two "missions" is the village bus shelter. With just two buses a day - one from A to B via the village, the second returning later in the day - a shelter seems a bit de trop.