travel headaches

And then, suddenly, Hilary was with us. I drove down to Nantes airport to pick her up Friday morning and we visited Redon on the way back. Nice place
Saturday we went to the peninsula.

Daniela's mum died on Sat night - have to get her back to Bucharest - and Hilary back to Leeds. But the ash cloud is drifting again and flights are being cancelled in France. BlueAir website also acting up and unable to take our booking of the Beauvais (Paris)-Bucharest flight (perhaps just as well). Having been a distant observer of the April chaos, I am now in the middle of it. We think of driving tomorrow to Nantes - put Daniela on the TGV for Paris - and, if flights are grounded, then drive to St Malo to let Hilary take ferry to Portsmouth.

Dinan and Becherel

Monday was overcast and cold – as we headed with Adrian and Susanna following – to Dinan on the minor roads north. Dinan is quite amazing – with the strongest fortifications I have ever seen commanding the heights over the river and riddled with tiny medieval lanes.
After the farewells, the real find was on our return journey. We had intended to visit Rennes but were diverted by a sign on the road for Becherel – ville du livre and duly encountered what is for me a dream place – one of what is now a European network of 2nd hand book towns and villages. I had encountered one quite by accident in Fontenoy la Joute (Lorraine) on a long drive I had made on my own in 1997 from Bucharest to Brussels to take up a dreadful job I survived for 6 months with TAIEX – which was then the body helping the accession countries access knowledge about the acquis commaunitaire. I quickly discovered that it was little more than a travel boutique run by a bustling dragon of an Englishwoman masquerading under a Polish name.
Being Monday, most of the 16 bookshops were closed – but a couple were open. The first a real antique book shop whose cafe area was just like a sitting room and where we were left to our own devices. The second was a cavernous area – where I tracked down my Michel Mohrt and almost got the Jean Michel Revy and Romain Gary books I’m looking for. Hopefully we’ll return another day. They have apparently a blog – www.becherel-autour-du-livre.com
At one level it is annoying not to have regular access to the internet to be able to follow that link. At another, it is an encouragement to read what I have already downloaded

Ploermel et al

The weekend was the English bank holiday – so we had the pleasure of a visit from Susanna and Adrian – arriving midnight. Vide greniers had promised – but proved disappointing at Ploermel at Augan. Ploermel itself, however, is the first place we visited which I could imagine living in. Lively and full of charm – it has two large churches in the centre – both with delightful stained-glass windows. An organ was playing in one on our first visit – but I could find no way in to enjoy the performance. When we revisited on Sunday morning a christening was underway in the second – wood ceilings and Breton stone are the impressive features of these churches. Proximity to such a spiritual haven is probably on my checklist for houses! The newsagent’s had a very impressive range of magazines – including a fairly recent literary venture modelled on New York Review of books – www.booksmag.fr

Josselin gave us 4 serindipidous moments – an exhibition of marqueterie by Jacques Moisan in a tiny ancient church adjoining its fairy-tale castle which looms over the river. A sculpteuse seemingly specialising in capturing the relationships between men and women – I photographed a small one in the window of a couple reading back to back with the woman’s hand trailing. Hands are so expressive – I remember one of Dobre Dobrev’s paintings of a quiet Bulgarian square with a languid hand in the air. You can get a sense of the sculptress at http://creatures.celestes.free.fr
The final delight was a second-hand English bookshop – from which I emerged with 3 gems - a Jonathan Raban book whose title I had come across when I was considering the Syrian job some years back (Arabia through the looking glass); a highly appropriate Colin Thubron book - Behind the Wall about his travels in China in the early and mid 1980s; and a Morris West thriller I had not yet read - Cassidy.

Sunday night we ate well – and I had the rare pleasure of a conversation a quatres – with Adrian’s questions proving skilful in eliciting from me some rare opinions about the goodies and baddies in politics and why the British system is in such a mess. Although I did opine that the recent expense scandals are perhaps not quite what they seem! Most of the so-called misdemeanours were in fact the result of the advice given by the House officials – and the felons were few and minor. I am never disposed to conspiracy theories – but on this occasion I have to ask about the timing and nature of the revelations. The financial melt-down and collapse of neo-liberalism has required string government action and a rethink of the role of the state. One would have expected a resurgence of socialist thinking. So perhaps the expenses scandal was a preemptive strike – to ensure that the legitimacy of government activity remained under question.

cost of living

Still no internet connection. I had hoped to do a deal with our landlord and split the cost of a stick with him – but the card apparently doesn’t buy much time online – part of a litany of cost and service issues he warned us arise from living in France. These (and decline in value of pound) has, he said, turned the flow of Brits to the area of the past decade into a reverse flow. Brits, however, account for only about 4% of the households (8% of the houses in Reminiac). I had a feeling before I came that the visit might actually tell me that buying here would not be a practical proposition – and so it is proving.
A charming old bibliotheque municipale in Malestroit (silent “t”) seemed to have internet facilities but had just closed for a 3 hour lunch break – giving us the opportunity to dawdle at the canal; see the inside of a 1,000 old house (invited by a couple who were treating their stonework); and try out some more supermarkets – including gone whose name seemed to suggest they were actually a Casino!)
Beef seems very expensive – but I got a pork “Promo” – 2 kilos for 7 euros!
We joined the small queue waiting for the “mediatheque” (as it calls itself) to open – were kindly received and ushered upstairs to a PC and I was able to retrieve the telephone numbers of the estate agents and re-establish contact. One agent phoned me immediately and passed me to their branch in Ruffiac. Before dropping in there, I gave my desiderata to an agent in Malestroit and arranged to visit him next Wednesday.
How, we watched the TV for the first time – mainly a constant replay of the gaffe made by Brown who was caught calling a 65 year old “a bigot” after apparently having an amicable conversation with her. Not only was it hypocritical but he was heard trying to identify who was responsible for suggesting he talk to her –confirming all the gossip about his being a control freak . At the moment the race is a remarkable three-way one – with the first of a first-ever series of Prime Ministerial debates having given the LibDem leader an opportunity which he had grasped with 4 hands.

settling in

In to Malestroit to try to get connected to mobile and net systems. The net system has been down in the village for a day or so – this apparently is a common occurrence. Manage the mobile – but the 69 euros charged by Orange for an internet stick (plus the normal access charges) seemed too much for one month’s use. The ocean is some 45 minutes away – so we paid our respects and also popped into Carrefour which was also very quiet. Have been looking for some of the titles of one of Brittany’s best modern authors – Michel Mohrt as I remember his name from my reading here some 30 years ago. But the combination of fashion and modernity has wiped such authors from these shelves. Let’s hope we can find a decent bookshop – even better livres d’occasion - somewhere (Rennes presumably)

We woke up on Monday morning to a delightful chorus of birdsong. For Daniela the immediate task was to clean the car – as it has never been cleaned before. Then off to Malestroit – which the Nantes- Brest canal crosses. It is a charming small medieval town/village but as quiet as a cemetery on a Monday as we had been warned it would be in rural France. But the Super U was open and we emerged with 140 euros worth of goodies. In even the smallest settlement 2-3 of these supermarket chains seem to be battling it out – little wonder that so many hamlets seem to be dead. Certainly it was the quietest supermarket I have ever seen.
In the evening I found amongst the books in the house a 1969 thriller by Alaister McLean. Based in Amsterdam and dealing with the drug trade, I was actually impressed with its language.

arrival in Reminiac

A lordly breakfast in a large dining room with matching grand fireplace. A last walk around the superb garden and then off to see Saumur on Loire. First to find petrol – a difficult task on a French Sunday! Saumur was very solid and bourgeois. We stocked up with goat cheese and Chinon wine – fruitshops are not only open but stock other goods. Tried to drive along the Loire – but it was elusive. Angers was the first real find – quite charming. But breathtaking was the castle of Chateaubrillant. After that it was an easy cruise to Reminiac - via Guer. 25 kilometres or so before that we passed by the Brest canal.
Having found the cottage at 16.00, we quickly unloaded and retraced our steps some 6 kms to visit a marche aux puces (vide le grenier) at Monteneuf. Despite the late arrival, there were still quite a few good things to snap up – including a “wine toolkit”. As I’ve never seen such a box of instruments before, I don’t know what else to call this collection of wine pourers, thermometer, stopper etc. Daniela’s find was a neat silver butter holder – suitably aristocratic looking after our Saumur experience. Thereafter a snack of Italian and French cheeses and pate on the patio – washed down with Soave and Slovenian white wine and merlot d’Oc.

day five - we hit the brick wall at saumur

Approaching the 3,000 kilometres and reaching the limits....The weather and scenery is pleasant enough but not the mood. Away from the autoroutes, the landscape and mansions are superb as I head for Nevers (wasn’t that the town which figured in Hiroshima Mon Amour?).
After Bourges, I pick up the signs for Nantes – but still 300 kilometres away so clearly it’s going to be a very long haul to make in one day.
At Saumur, we pull out of the last autoroute at 15.00 and find immediately a helpful tourist information. A chambre d’hotes with internet connection is our priority – and we find just what we need spiritually as well in the village of Allonnes at Le Grand Logis dthomann@wanadoo.fr
Words can’t do justice to the calm and civility we found with the Thomann family – in a house on the main street which seemed 2 centuries old but which was apparently built be an American lady 80 years earlier. Our room gave on to a patio behind which stretched a large garden full of trees. The sun was shining strongly as we made a fruitless search for a restaurant in the vicinity. Frustrating to go through so many degustations and be unable to imbibe! But a trip to the supermarket boosted the fare we then ate al fresco on the patio – on the table which had just been cleaned from winter ware. And the red Slovenian wine and Italian aqua de vita was shared with the Thomann’s who reciprocated with red Chinon wine and a powerful 1997 home-brewn l’eau de vie. The conversation was good! And the repast so much better than any we could have had in a restaurant.

Day four - the Frejus tunnel and the rhone valley

Despite the fatigue of the previous day, I was up early to catch the magic hill town before it stirred. And to capture some of the sights and angles on camera. Quite amazing that a church with such a long naive can grace the grounds of a hill town!
We were in no hurry to leave – had a leisurely coffee in a cafe which seemed to act more as a cultural centre and hive of village activity.

Then at 10.00 back on the autostrada which became increasingly gloomy and busy as we approached Milan. Thereafter the traffic lessened as we passed Turin and we were almost alone as we headed into the mist-shrouded mountains. Our target was the Frejus tunnel – reached with about 5 previous tunnels of 2-6 kilometre length. The Frejus tunnel is 13.8 km long – and cost a hefty 37 euros!
Then, suddenly, it was the French radio; the end of the banter and the return of serious conversation and music! But French road tolls seem even more expensive. We sailed round Chambery and on to Lyon and the rhone valley. I was aiming for Macon but we came off at Villefranche – where it was really difficult to find accommodation. Best Western offered 80 euros and no breakfast. A nasty room above a pub cost 43. We searched around the station area to no avail – and eventually found a motel-type place just next to the poll booth for 50 euros. What a contrast the room was from the Soave room! The hotel was, however, located in a park – with all the fragrances of the countryside. We dined on bread, tasty Italian salami, Romanian cheese and Soave wine. And then, with a sniff of grappa, to bed!