The next three days were spent in fairly leisurely fashion punctuated by a couple of doctors visits for me, firstly with Phillipe's (movie star looking) GP and then the next day with the island's visiting opthalmologist. I had been experiencing some minor visual disturbances since my fall and Russell was keen to make sure there wasn't anything precluding our flight home.

Our appointment with the specialist was in nearby Le Bois Plage and luckily it was market day so the others had plenty to keep them occupied whilst we waited to see the doctor. Everything checked out ok and we were told we didn't have to extend our time in France (damn it!) and to follow up with a check at home.

We rejoined the others for a wander through quite a good market which sold everything from oysters to clothing, handbags to hats and the gourmet salt that Ile de Ré is apparently known for amongst culinary types.

Ile de Ré's main economic activity from the 12th until the 19th century, salt harvesting has waned since the draining of the salt marshes with industrialisation but around 40 artisans salt makers or sauniers continue the traditional practice.

“The Fleur de Sel de l’Île de Ré is refined and subtle in taste with a faint rose tint and almost imperceptible scent of violets.”

It is harvested in a labor-intensive way in which seawater is passed through a network of dikes and ponds. Sauniers wait for warm, windy days to harvest the salt by raking the purest, whitest layer off the top to make what many consider to be the finest salt in the world. I popped some of that in the suitcase, a much more convenient reminder of the island than the many other varieties originating from the sea!

Over the next two days we included a visit to an oyster shack where we indulged in more shellfish grown literally within view…

….. and ventured out on two wheels to the nearby swimming beach. Rosey, Yvie and Zoe got the best of the tides, Russell and I turning up as the water rapidly receded and having to settle for a drink at the beachside bar instead.

Dinners were at different restaurants each night ( recommended by Phillipe and kindly booked for us) and ranged from good to excellent.

The weather remained hot and we set an appropriate pace – slow strolls through the many and varied shops for us women, reading in the armchair for Russell interspersed with croissants and ice cream. A common site in souvenir shops and on post cards was the famous Poitou donkey, a breed unique to the region and previously an integral part of the salt harvesting.

No longer used for this purpose they can still be seen at the height of the season giving rides to children and wearing their striped pantalons – originally designed to protect their legs from mosquito bites! We only saw them grazing amongst the ramparts but their replicas were everywhere…

The streets of St-Martin were postcard perfect themselves. Hollyhocks growing amongst the cobble stones, tiny shops and galleries around every narrow corner and tempting delicacies in artisan windows.

On our last night a final stroll around the harbour to soak up the ambience concluded our short stay. We loved this village and at this stage really wished our three days was a week.

All good things must come to an end though and Wednesday morning saw us loading Pablo once again, seemingly more efficiently this time?

We purchased tickets for the giant carousel. It is almost 25 m (82 ft.) high and 22 m (72 ft.) in diameter and consists of three carousels stacked in concrete lacework, crowned by a Big Top and guarded by 16 fishermen from all the world’s oceans. It is at the same time a work of art, an engineering marvel and great fun to ride. Most of the rides have levers and wheels that riders can operate to move heads or tails or fins as you go around, thereby enhancing the experience for the spectators on the sidelines.

It was a nice way to finish our French experience for 2017 and was followed by that most onerous of tasks, the final pack.

The next morning we boarded the TGV without incident. Clutching our Paul's bags full of breakfast supplies, we found our seats and settled back for the roughly three hour trip into CDG. We arrived at the airport in time to make great use of the Emirates lounge and then received an added bonus for Zoe with an upgrade on the first leg.

And of course you know what I was doing as the drinks were served…. yep, planning 2018!

Posted with Blogsy

If ever you are looking for a comfortable vehicle to transport five adults (at least three of whom don't travel lightly) and luggage, look no further than the Citroen Grand Picasso! We have leased a Grand Picasso ( Pablo, for obvious reasons) about five times now in France and they are truly a great vehicle for our needs.

With excellent pushing, shoving and manoeuvring of luggage from Russell and Zoe, we successfully closed the rear hatch and the five of us headed off from Arcachon Sunday morning, initially toward the ferry at Pointe de Grave which would transport us over the Gironde estuary to Royan.

According to Google, going by road inland was quicker but the allure of the coast and a more adventurous method of transportation appealed. Without too much incident ( except for a dearth of public toilets en route) and more by good luck than good management, we arrived in time to be almost the last vehicle loaded onto the ferry. We had roughly half an hour to stretch our legs and take in the sea air before disembarking with amazing efficiency at Royan where we continued north toward La Rochelle, our intended lunch spot.

La Rochelle was founded in the 10th century and is architecturally and historically stunning. It has variously been under English and French rule and was in fact the last French city to be liberated from the Germans after WWII.

On this Sunday in June it was a very warm 33C and after parking Pablo we quickly sought shade and lunch – more seafood for most of us!

After lunch and a wander around quiet Sunday streets and the harbour which was buzzing with some sort of jet ski exposition, we were back in the car for our final destination, the village of St.-Martin-de-Ré on the Ile de Ré.

The island (of Ré) lies just off the coast of La Rochelle and has been connected to the mainland by a 2.9km bridge since 1988. They are obviously still recovering the cost via the 8 euro toll to cross. I had discovered this island whilst reading a blog and it was variously described as a “French Hamptons” and a “cute island known for it's salt and oysters” – sounded like a place worth visiting I thought.

Our first view as we came off the bridge didn't disappoint as a sandy beach studded with colourful kites came into view and I had to stop for a quick pic.

A few kilometres further on we were meeting our host Phillipe to receive instruction on how to access the 'pedestrian only' area where our apartment in St-Martin-de-Ré was situated. With Phillipe's handy little remote the bollards disappeared and we followed him toward the spot where we could stop short term to unload our luggage. We had time to quickly take in the stunning harbour and some interesting looking shops before trotting after Phillipe to find our accommodation for the next three nights.

Rosey was staying at a nearby hotel and she left to check in whilst Zoe followed Phillipe to the slightly out of town car park. He assured us we wouldn't need it as he pointed out the four pushbikes that were supplied with the apartment and we did utilise them later!

St-Martin-de-Ré is the capital of the island and its star shaped ramparts (designed by Vauban) are steeped in history as the island was in the firing line for many assaults by the English navy. The citadel was later used as a prison, housing prisoners that were en route to New Caledonia and French Guyana, its most famous prisoner being Henri Charrière, who later wrote his life story as Papillon.

Thanks Le Phare

We reconvened for dinner at Phillipe's restaurant Le Tout du Cru (“all raw”) where there were five grades of oysters and three different varieties! Following that with ice cream from La Martinière, the island's famous artisan glacier which boasts 66 flavours, it took some time to choose…

Luckily we had several more opportunities to try alternatives during the remainder of our stay on the island!

This harbour was to be our focal point for the next three days – by day a maze of narrow shopping streets, by night a stunning harbour illuminated by the countless restaurants arranged around its periphery. Looking back on my photographs I think it is easy to see that this was one of my favourite spots, I have the feeling this won't be our last trip to Ile de Ré.

——————————————

Posted with Blogsy

After seeing the horses off to greener pastures, the rest of us made the short trip to the seaside town of Arcachon where we were to spend the next two nights.

Saturday morning saw the whole group including Patrick and our French friend, Yves, stretching our legs in preparation for the climb up Europe's largest sand dune, the Dune du Pilat.

The Dune du Pilat sits at the entrance to Arcachon Bay, is 500 m wide, almost three kilometres long and 107 m high. It is moving inland at up to 5 metres a year as the particles of sand – up to 60 million cubic metres – are blown by the wind.

Luckily there are stairs to climb to the top so we joined the queue on a perfect and not yet too busy morning.

By late morning the dune was becoming very busy and Patrick had to get Yves to Bordeaux train station so we headed back to Arcachon. We were staying at a different hotel tonight so after negotiating one way streets in this very busy tourist town we each spent the afternoon doing a spot of shopping and sight seeing.

Dinner was at a crowded seafood restaurant overlooking the beach serving everything from oysters to bulots (sea snails), langoustines ( a type of small lobster), prawns, crabs, mussels and more.

We finished the night with ice cream and coffee after a stroll around town, the Aussie's last night together as a group that had shared a wonderful week together and made memories that will last a lifetime.

Tomorrow, the group disperses. Charlie and Lyn to their family wedding in the UK, Sharon and Annette to spend time with Sharon's UK family and Fiona to explore the resort town of Biarritz.

Russell, Zoe, Yvie, Rosey and I will attempt to cram all of our luggage into Pablo and head north to Ile de Ré.

——————————————–

Posted with Blogsy

Wednesday brought the news that Russell's trusty steed, Roland, had developed a saddle sore the previous day and rather than risk further injury Patrick had called in a favour from a friend and borrowed Pipette, a chestnut mare.

Lunch was at the picturesque Sainte-Croix-du-Mont where we visited some amazing caves lined with oyster shells from when this area was covered by sea and Zoe and Rosey joined us for lunch in the shade of the church which dominated the village.

Remounting after lunch we eventually found ourselves following the Garonne again, albeit on the opposite side from previously.

We were following a path about 10 metres above the river when Patrick shouted “keep to the right” as the path narrowed somewhat and the undergrowth on our left opened up to afford us a view of the substantial river.

Unfortunately, as Salsa and I reached this spot the ground gave way.

Both Salsa and I tumbled toward the river and when I re established which way was up and opened my eyes, it was to see Salsa panicking to regain her feet as both of us had come to rest on a slightly flatter piece of ground about half way down the bank.

Struggling to get out of her way with a very painful left arm, it was not my finest moment and it was a relief to see her finally thrash her way up through the undergrowth to join her 'herd.'

Before I had time to fully ascertain what else hurt, Sharon's horse Booboo came crashing down to my ledge as well. Being separated from the pack ahead, he had become panicky and Sharon had sensibly dismounted before he then broke loose and subsequently also lost his footing.

At this stage – which must have been five minutes from my fall but felt much longer – Patrick arrived and took charge. He got Booboo up to the safe area and then came back to help me up the slope and administer first aid which unfortunately didn't include a stiff drink!

Whilst I was safely sitting on the ground and collecting my thoughts, Patrick turned his attention to clearing a new path for the remaining two horses to get through and once this was achieved Russell and I slowly headed off on foot to meet Salvador and the van.

At this stage we were concerned that I may have broken my arm and Russell called Zoe and Rosey (who had just settled into a nearby lake for a swim) and they met us in the Langon Hospital car park where Salvador translated the situation to the ED staff.

A few hours later, x-rays clear and morphine on board, a dirty and dishevelled me climbed into the car and headed for the hotel.

The next couple of days saw a kaleidoscope of colour emerge on various body parts and a generous consumption of pain killers on my behalf.

Fortunately, Salsa was ok after an anti inflammatory injection and after a few days off I was able to join the group for the last half day ride which finished at the picturesque Lac de Cazaux et de Sanguinet.

 

 

The weather was sublime and Salvador had prepared a fitting lunch for our last day together as we looked back on a week of (mostly) laughs and great times!

Patrick had organised for the horses to be collected from here and we watched as they loaded into two trucks with amazing efficiency and headed off for a well earned break.

 

Next, Europe's biggest sand dune and more oysters than we could shuck a stick at…..

Posted with Blogsy

And so, belatedly, (I apologise, excuse comes later) the story continues..

Sunday morning's clear blue sky promised a warm afternoon and saddle bags were stocked with water as we became acquainted with our equine companions for the week. Some of us were paired with old friends and the new riders introduced themselves to their mounts as Patrick made final tack checks and the “new Simon”, Salvador helped pack up the van.

Finally in the saddle, we headed off in the direction of Château de Roquetaillade which was our lunch destination for today. Following a cycling track for quite some time we were somehow adopted by a friendly but seemingly lost hound who followed us for miles seeking shade and water whenever he could find it en route. We were met at lunch by Zoe and Rosey ( the designated 'non-riders') and Patrick's intention was for us to tour the castle but a change in opening times and general lassitude due to the hot weather meant that we ended up viewing from the outside only. It was impressive and apparently has been in the same family since 1306.

The ride home was through varied scenery, notably the vineyards that the Sauternes region is famous for, but we were all grateful for the forest sections which offered some relief from an unrelenting sun.

Dinner Sunday night was at nearby Château Trillon which afforded us a tempting view of their pool and a lovely viewpoint to watch the sun sinking into the green landscape.

The hot weather continued the next day as we traversed more vineyards, quiet lanes and sleepy villages.

We also got our first glimpse of the mighty Garonne river – more about that tomorrow.

Salvador found us a shady spot for lunch and the guys became very interested in a spirited game of boules that was in progress across the way.

Late in the afternoon we reached Château Filhot where Patrick had organised another Sauternes tasting. Coincidentally Yves, our French group member was acquainted with the family so we were also able to drive up and appreciate the actual family residence albeit from the outside.

Dinner was a late but lively affair where duck featured prominently and it was late before we all found our pillows to recharge for day 3.

Posted with Blogsy