Loire Diary - June 2010

27/07/10

Saturday 26th June

I wake this morning with a sore throat that has been steadily worsening over the last day or two, but which I am not going to be able to ignore for much longer. Despite this, we have an easy drive down to the coast south-west of Nantes to the popular French holiday destination of Les Sables d’Olonne. On the Atlantic coast but warm and almost Mediterranean in atmosphere, this is yet largely unexplored by British holidaymakers and we are starting to rely more and more on my recent French lessons.

We almost miss the signs to our second chateau of the holiday, this one much more in the feel of a stately home in its decoration and with a very inviting-looking pool. I desperately try to keep up with the stream of sight-seeing recommendations from our hostess – easily the most enthusiastic tourist guide for the region we could ever meet. (I’m pretty sure ‘un peu’ means ‘a little’ and not ‘I’m completely fluent’). S sees me gazing longingly at the pool and I agree to a deal: if we can find me a swimming cozzy I’m happy with, I’ll allow him to teach me to swim. That’s one I feel I can comfortably leave to fate to decide.

As it turns out, the very first shop we venture into, despite the language barrier, comes up trumps. €105 later and I have a cozzy that doesn’t do the miraculous and hide what I consider to be the deficiencies in my figure – but manages at least not to accentuate them. And I’m actually looking forward to getting into the pool tomorrow…

My French lessons pay off when I am able to perfectly request directions to the nearest chemist, and understand the answer! Unfortunately, I am unable to properly appreciate the tuna steak I eat for dinner, or the morsel of perch that S transfers to my plate from his. I do manage to do rather more justice to the Lemon Mystic pression we are served while listening to the live band afterwards however. And this despite the fact that we are forced into an early night as I now have alternating hot flushes and shivering, accompanied by a now raging sore throat…


Sunday 27th June

I sleep like the dead for about 5 hours and then spend some time in restless agony. Breakfast is quite lavish but I can manage only one slice of the softest brioche. S takes pity on me and announces a quiet day. We had understood enough from our hostess yesterday to gather that Noirmoutier is accessible by two roads, except at high tide – so take the high road. I’m feeling much better than I did last night, though my throat is still very sore, and we keep our eyes open for chemists – predictably enough for a Sunday however, they remain steadfastly closed.

We return to the chateau in the early afternoon to find it, and the pool, gloriously deserted. I am pleasantly surprised to find that this swimming lark is not as difficult as I thought and we have a very enjoyable hour or so splashing around. Maybe it’s the heat that has affected my throat, as it feels much better when I get out.

We have a repeat of the mission of our first night in Tours, trying to find somewhere to eat, before we give in and return to Les Sables and a restaurant recommended by our hostess (who we have affectionately come to refer to as Madame). It does indeed live up to her recommendation; though pizza probably isn’t the wisest choice for me, it is delicious.


Monday 28th June

I manage to impress Madame so much at breakfast with my grasp of French, asking for an English-speaking doctor, that she finally relents and peppers her conversation with some English. This is every bit as bizarre as it sounds, but at least the conversation is a little more interactive now. She very kindly calls the doctor and manages to set up an appointment for 1.30pm that afternoon. (‘she doesn’t mean in an hour and a half, does she?’ asks S anxiously. ‘Nope, one hour thirty was a literal translation. Trust me’.)

Having several hours to fill before the appointed time, we raid Madame’s leaflet carousel and take ourselves over to a local botanic garden. So sure are we by now of where we are however that we miss a turn on the way back and turn up late for the doctor. He remains unruffled however, being a very nice man, and diagnoses me with a throat infection, also correctly surmising that I have had a slight fever at some point in the last few days. We leave clutching a prescription for some cough syrup, some hefty soluble paracetemol (I have to break these into four to get them to dissolve) and some Amoxycillin.

Mightily relieved at the thought of imminent recovery, we drive to Nantes. We spend some time exploring the town, admiring the shops (trying to keep away from the shoes), avoiding several random singing pedestrians. We fail miserably to find the tourist tram (though we do find the stop for it), or a guitar shop. We finally wend our way to La Cigale, an art deco restaurant in the corner of one of the main squares, which is constantly busy. We stop for one beer before the waiters start laying the tables for the evening dinner service. And by the time we’ve read the menu, the place is full once more. We gain yet more brownie points with Madame when we tell her next morning where we ate.


Tuesday 29th June

It’s time for one of the highlights of the trip for S - a visit to the tank museum at Saumur. He’s long wanted to see a Panzer ‘in the flesh’ and today’s the day! We wander into pretty Saumur afterwards for another beer, before heading off to Angers. They have a beautifully preserved tapestry based on the Book of Revelation, housed in the moated castle.






The entrance to the medieval town can be seen from the castle battlements and, intrigued, we head over there next. Unlike most of the other towns we’ve explored, the old streets of Angers have been left unchanged with no commerciality, though the buildings are lived in. Walking through the medieval streets feels like stepping across the threshold of a time machine: the buildings are sympathetically looked after, not in the least run down but also no overt modernisation to the facades and it’s very quiet with no traffic. On a Tuesday afternoon there was absolutely no-one else around and it felt quite atmospheric, in a refreshing sort of way. It was a pity to leave and return to the modern city.

We drive all the way back to Les Sables again for dinner and I try once more to fit my knowledge of French around a crustacean-based menu. No salmon on offer this time! – so it’s prawns and pork for me. If our assumptions are correct, there appear to be several terms for prawn. I’m beginning to think it’s an Eskimo/snow kinda thing going on…


Wednesday 30th June

For our last day in the Loire, we decide to take it easy again. We have been trying without success to find a shirt for S (to a specific design) and I have a hankering for a shorter dress. As luck would have it, all the shops are deep into sale season and we manage to grab a bargain on a lovely floaty number for me, and S spots the perfect necklace to go with it. We also take a field trip flying tour of the market and find that there are indeed, several terms for ‘prawn’. Quelle surprise….

The day is one of the hottest so far and we take advantage of another quiet afternoon in the chateau to head back to the pool. I’m feeling quite confident in my own abilities this time and even manage to swim a couple of lengths, as opposed to widths – though I hasten to add, not in one go.

The restaurants at Les Sables being arranged along both sides of the water, we decide to hit the opposite side tonight and this time, it’s my choice entirely. I decide to take a different tack with the menu tonight and choose something that I know isn’t shellfish-based but is otherwise untranslatable by me. When it arrives, I find it’s not meat either. Apart from knowing what it’s not however, I’m no closer to deciding what it is. Discussing it with Isabelle on my return, she is also none the wiser. From what I can remember of the spelling, she confirms that this is likely to mean something like ‘unspecified sea creature’ (no, before you oh-so-humourously suggest it, the word wasn’t ‘poisson’) and therefore could have been anything. I wonder if it could possibly have been squid, if exceptionally well-cooked given that it required almost no chewing.