We seem to have spent a lot of the week dodging the weather, but have managed to get around quite a bit in spite of it. Our holiday flat was well supplied with publicity brochures of all the places within about three hour’s drive of Chevanceaux, so we thought a trip to the coast would be a good idea and would be about an hour away. Our initial destination was Royan, with a stop-off at Talmont on the way but in the end, it turned out to be the other way around.
The small town of Talmont is perched on top of limestone cliffs, on a tiny peninsula not much bigger than the town. It appears to be at the sea, but is really still within the Gironde estuary. Dominating the town and built on the very edge of the cliffs is the imposing Romanesque church of Sainte Radegonde, built of the local limestone. The town itself has quaint, cobbled streets which wander between the buildings seemingly without plan, while at the seaside are fishing huts built at the end of narrow jetties jutting out over the water. From each hut extends a weird contraption of poles from which is suspended a large square fishing net. The tide recedes by at least two kilometres at low tide, and when we visited, all the little boats were lying on their sides and the fishing nets were hanging out over mud, but when the tide comes in, the nets are lowered into the water and lifted out again several hours later with, hopefully, and satisfying catch of fish.
By lunch-time, the weather man had decided that our sight-seeing was over for the day and it started to drizzle. So we retired to a handy café for a coffee and a sandwich and were rewarded by a break in the rain which gave us time to walk back to the parking area just outside the town. By then it almost looked as if it was to clear completely so we took the coastal, and scenic, route up the coast to Royan which together with Pointe de Grave directly across the estuary formed an important part of the defences during World War 2. On this day, though, no-one was thinking about wars or defences but seemed to all be out demonstrating a number of different water sports, in spite of the freezing wind that howled across the shore. We saw kite-surfers performing impossible leaps out of the water being lifted by immense parachute-like kites; wind-surfers were screaming across the water at amazing speeds; another person appeared to be on a snow-board being pulled along the soft sand, by the strong wind, also using a parachute-like kite; there were tiny sailing dinghies being blown almost flat by the force of the wind; and finally there were sand-yachts – yachts on three wheels that were making use of the vast expanse of hard-packed wet sand – racing back and forth, sometimes careering along on only two wheels. We would have loved to stand and watch for longer but the cold and wind drove us back into the warmth of the car.
The following day seemed to be a bit brighter and we had found out that a market was due to take place in Barbezieres, about ten minutes away, so off we went to see what was going on. Not a good one though as it was mostly a clothes market, although we did find a fellow selling rotisserie chickens and ought one for supper. Not wanting to go straight home again, we searched out a circular route that would finally deliver us back home, and spent a pleasant time wandering the country lanes.
After two days of rather a lot of driving, we took the next day off and were glad we had as it rained on and off for most of the day with the odd bit of hail thrown in for good measure!
Sitting at home, reading our books was rather a waste of time though, so the next day we were off again in another direction, to Brossac this time. An uninspiring village surrounded by beautiful pastures and woodlands, with the occasional beautiful, often run-down, chateau to surprise us. To get there the road had led us through a woodland holiday resort area, where we had noticed a small restaurant. We retraced our steps to enjoy a delicious lunch there, sitting looking out over a rather chilly, but sometimes sunny, lake. After lunch we took a detour on the way home to have a look at two well restored windmills standing on a crest above the road. By now the sun was really out so when we got home, I suggested going for a walk around the block. Well…………for me to suggest a walk must have shocked the weatherman even more than it shocked Neels, as, three-quarters of the way around our rather large block, it suddenly started hailing again! Just tiny chunks, but quite painful when one hasn’t got a good cushion of hair to protect one’s head!
Friday was spent preparing for our return to Espas the following day. The flat had to be thoroughly cleaned and all our clothes and remaining food had to be packed into their respective containers.
We tried to leave early on Saturday, but early doesn’t really feature in our lives so it was about 10.30 when we finally got away. We had planned a cross-country route to return home by as the trip to Chevanceaux had been mainly via the motorway and we hadn’t enjoyed it very much. The route we had chosen was an almost straight line from Chevanceaux to Espas, and as we had asked ‘Jane’ to guide along the ‘shortest route’ we found ourselves wandering along the most delightful lanes. We realised too, that in the two weeks away, the seasonal change had been going on without us really noticing and we were struck by the lush greenness of the fields and the trees, the roadside flowers and the blossom-laden fruit trees. The colza (canola/rapeseed) had not only grown green but had flowered too and great swathes of acid-yellow could be seen.
Finally, I have included yet another rather graphic sign, this time found in Talmont and needs no explaining.
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