I’d made a few notes, but in the end we lazily made for the Arc de Germanicus, which we knew had been moved from its original site, where it had proved a blockage to traffic. It now occupies a large circular space close to the river.
Germanicus had been the nephew of the Emperor Tiberius, and the arch was erected to mark the monumental entrance to Gaul -Aquitaine – the ‘Mediolanum’, and the completion of the crossroads of Gaul, the ‘Via Agrippa’.
WE NEGLECT THE ROMAN STADIUM
Having in our travels in Europe (especially Italy) visited so many Roman stadia and amphitheatres, we decided it was just too hot to trail through the streets to find yet another one. So we just generally pottered around this attractive old town of white stone houses built mainly in the 17th century to the 19th, but left before it was time to eat dinner at any of the attractive restaurants.
Cross the bridge for cocktails
TAKE ANY ROAD…
We cruised around the area, keeping an eye open for a likely place, but what we eventually found were some umbrella-shaded tables overlooking the river –overspill from a large hotel just over the road.
MUSIC AND COCKTAILS:
There was music, and a band about to start up, and people were sipping cocktails. Now I have had very, very few cocktails in my long life, and I suddenly decided I’d like to try one. We spent a good hour relaxing while the sun went down; then made our way back to Taillebourg, meaning to try the better-class auberge. But we found it closed – also the restaurant in the hotel by the river.
River restaurant
FREE-RANGE CHILDREN CAN RUIN ANY MEAL
So we went back to the same place as the evening before. Only this time there was a large party of families with very noisy and unruly children, who were constantly running in and out, shouting and playing with the settings on the ready-laid tables. If that were not enough, the food that evening was abysmal.
We had the same nice waitress, who did her best to tame those children – but their parents were totally indifferent. I wondered – could this group be English? We’d always found in our Continental travels that French and Italian – and certainly German children, all knew how to behave in public. But no; a mother actually chided her child in rapid French. I felt a little better then, and mentally apologised to all the British parents who do keep their kids in order…
NO GOOD REVUE THIS TIME
As for the food that evening – I concluded there must have been a change of chef. I decided that instead of writing the five-star revue I had planned the night before, the kindest (and most honest) thing was to not put anything at all on Trip Advisor.
We took a last little walk along the riverbank while Graham experimented at using the dying light for ‘special effects’
Then it was back to Cynlyns. John and Valerie were not to be found – evidently enjoying each other’s company. We debated watching some television in the atrium lounge, but opted instead for a nice long read in bed. Clean clothes for the morning waited in our backpacks.
WE FOUND IT HARD TO LEAVE THIS GREAT B&B
We found it hard to leave this lovely haven, and indeed, John and Valerie seemed happy to chat over the breakfast table. Then there were photographs to take. Finally we made for our car and the next leg of our journey. Only a three-hour drive direct – but we were about to enter the Dordogne, regarded by many as the most scenically beautiful area in all France, so it was not about to be a quick drive-through…
Even so – we were setting out well rested and full of contentment, thanks to the seamless professionalism and genuine friendliness of Valerie and John in sharing their lovely home. We assured them that only illness would stop us from booking a week with them next year.
We happened upon Lusignan by accident. If I had not spotted the brown road sign, saying ‘Lusignan, medieval city, .25 klm’ we would have missed this treasure of French History.
ON THE WAY TO SAINT SAVINIEN
In the morning, saying our goodbyes to Brion Les Thouet, we were offered sandwiches to take on our journey to our next stop. We thanked Yvonne and explained that we were not going very far at all – in fact, only about two hours down the direct road. (Only of course, it would take us longer as we would instead be meandering on by-roads to have a quick look round interesting places like nearby Loudun. I’d first spotted it on Google images – a fairytale chateau sitting in a lake, still reached by its drawbridge.)
POTTERING IN POITIERS
From there it was a short ride into Poitiers, visited just for a morning once before, and remembered as ‘a place to go back to’.
We did so, but entering from a different direction we found it difficult to orientate ourselves. Also, to find suitable parking anywhere near the centre. There seemed little point in getting my scooter out. Instead, I used my stick and we took a short walk, but found little of interest in that area. It was too early for lunch, so we decided to continue our journey along the country road D611, which would pass la Fontaine de La Comte before rejoining the A10 highway to St Jean d’Angèly.
WE DEVIATE –DISCOVER MEDIEVAL LUSIGNAN
Luckily I spotted a brown sign indicating a short detour to the nearby ‘Mediaeval City of Lusignan’.
‘We have plenty of time,’ I said to Graham, ‘and it must be important for the sign to point down such a narrow road.’
He readily agreed, and we soon found ourselves in a small town full of interest. Not least the ruined castle, high on a nearby hill, and built in the 11th century. It was decided I shouldn’t attempt to reach it on my motor scooter; in any case, Graham argued that he doubted there was enough time. But I was able to read a bit about it. Its most famous resident was Guy de Lusignan, who on the second crusade became King of Jerusalem through marrying Sybilla, daughter of the leprous King Baldwyn.
Many were the adventures Guy had, and there is evidence of a film ‘Kingdom of Heaven’ about him. It is not Ridley Scott’s best – and it would appear to be not altogether historically accurate. In any case, it is worth looking Guy de Lusignan up – I suggest the very short (but accurate) account in Encyclopaedia Britannica (where it states he was born in 1129 – not 1150, as in some accounts).
This castle was the favourite of the Duc de Berry, and you can see it illustrated (as it was in his time) in his famous Book of Hours.
Chateau Lusignan from our copy of the Les Tes Riches Heures – du Duc de Berry
THE TALL TOWERS – SOLE SURVIVORS
Nowadays there is little to be seen of it in this modest small town. The most striking survivors are the considerable bases of what must have once been two very tall towers guarding the gated entrance to the once-proud and important city.
You will find them in the Duc de Berry’s illustrations. Even today they dominate the main square of the town, where we parked. See them in the Feature Photo at the beginning of this post.
ENTER THE OLD CITY OVER THE ‘DRAWBRIDGE’
They still bear two shields of the House of Lusignan, founded in the 9th century. To pass through this ‘gateway’ into the old city you have to walk ‘over the drawbridge’, although the moat is filled in.
There are considerable stretches of the old city wall still intact, and a lot of houses remain as they were in the 14th century – and people still live in them. There is a beautiful roofed Market Place in the centre of the old town, close to the church.
Exterior of MarketInterior of MarketChurch of Notre Dame & Saint Junien
THE ANCIENT CHURCH IN THE OLD CITY OF LUSIGNAN
The ancient church is quite small, and rather plain now, though the very tall pillars and the vaulted roof give it dignity. I found a few interesting plaques. Unable to read French, I struggled to find the names they referred to. Topping some lower pillars were some amusing, if rather primitive depictions of mythical animals. I particularly admired the semicircle of largely unadorned Romanesque arches and pillars that guarded the tiny stone altar. They contained tall, stained-glass windows to illuminate it.
COULD THIS BE THE TOMB OF GUY DE LUSIGNAN?
There was a crumbling effigy on a heavy stone sarcophagus lid; it intrigued me, as it stood in front of a side-chapel dominated by an arrangement of crossed swords – but there was no explanation.
Church of Notre Dame & Saint Junien Doorway – Detail
I AM ESCORTED ROUND
An organist had come in and was practising on a small instrument, so I tiptoed around. Presently he climbed down from his stool, and escorted me all over the church. This kind gentleman explained all items of interest, like the place reserved for the minister and his servants to sit – and that for the President.
FINE STATUES – AND THE ‘BESTIARY’
There were a few statues – one was of St Anthony of Padua. The finest was a wooden pieta; the expression on Mary’s face was haunting. My voluntary guide was also anxious to show me the ‘bestiary’; a collection of carvings facing the side door.
Church of Notre Dame & Saint Junien Doorway
MANIPULATING MELUSINE
Carving of Melusine at Lusignan Photo by Jacques Mossot
As well as these twisting, primitive, yet strangely sophisticated carvings of allegorical animals, he was keen for me to see their ‘Melusine’. She is traditionally a two-tailed mermaid, but in this case resembled an air sprite, sailing down from her pillar with her mouth wide open. She is said to still fly around the castle wailing whenever a lord or king is about to die – (remember the King of Jerusalem.)
MELUSINE GOT AROUND: FRANCE, ENGLANDCZECHOSLOVAKIA
This is because this well-known creature of legend – half woman, half fish – was said to have founded the two Angevin families. (The ancestors of our English Henry11 and his famously feisty queen -Eleanor of Aquitaine, and their turbulent sons. Were their daughters also turbulent?)
Melusine was also held responsible for this Lusignan dynasty – set in the lands of said Eleanor. Yes: – we were standing in Aquitaine.
LUSIGNAN’S GREAT TREASURE –WOOD TELLS IT’S STORY
My kind guide’s English was faultless. He left me just before I reached what rivetted me – a quite large panel of sculpted wood. It showed the town as it had been in mediaeval times; just before a battle. The castle in the background was intact, of course, and quite impressive. I readily recognised some of the houses that still stand just behind a section of the city wall.
The figure of a knight loomed large just above the centre of the picture – presumably Guy de Lusignan. A few smaller figures were dotted here and there. I cannot find out enough about it.
Carved wooden Plaque
STUDYING THE STORY OF LUSIGNAN IN CARVING
Now I was impatient for Graham to find me. An expert conservationist of all things wooden, I knew he would love this panel with its gleaming patina of centuries.
When he arrived he was full of excitement at having found the medieval covered market hall. The intricate roof timbers had particularly charmed him, and he had taken several photographs. Now he spent a long time admiring and studying the ancient carved wood panel; and of course, took some photographs of that.
I really hope that I can return to Lusignan when we are less hurried; it needs a little time to learn all of the rich history, and the meanings in the symbolism found all over the place there.
Leaving Saumur chateau we arrived at the bottom of the town, searching for a shady place by the water. It was just too hot to go up and down streets. We drove on for a couple of miles, and even crossed over a bridge, but there seemed to be no access to the water meadows. We just did not know what we were doing….
“Let’s go and look for one of those troglodyte villages,” I suggested.
“They’ll be just like Matera.”
“You don’t know that. They don’t look the same in that leaflet.”
I hurriedly searched the car for it – but in vain. Suddenly a road sign appeared with the required brown slots. We drove a couple of miles only to find two places closed.
– AND LUNCH
“If we don’t look for lunch now, we won’t get any,” said Graham. “You know what it’s like on a Sunday in France. They don’t ‘do’ Sunday Lunch.”
WE FIND A LOVELY GARDEN RESTAURANT
Fortunately, we shortly passed a large garden with gazebos sheltering dining tables. It seemed to be well patronised, so we turned round and Graham assembled my scooter, and while he looked to park our car I whizzed along and found a nice small table in the shade.
– BUT WE ARE TURNED AWAY
A formally dressed waiter approached. “We have no tables free,” he said.
“But this one – and those –“
“We are fully booked.” He was rather abrupt.
By now Graham had caught up with me. He asked if there were anywhere else nearby where we might get lunch.
“There is a place 2 kilometres that way”. His tone was dismissive. “They sell sandwiches,” he added witheringly.
By now some more people were drifting in, including a young girl elaborately dressed in white. As we turned away we guessed this must be a confirmation celebration. We appreciated that this large mass meal needed precision. But need that waiter have been so graceless? We decided that, reluctantly, we’d better find this ‘sandwich’ place.
Inside the restaurant
TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE:
We’re glad we did! As we descended a winding path and joined a small queue to enter a very narrow doorway we were met by a charming waitress who explained that this was a ‘restaurant in a troglodyte cave’ and that the food was historically accurate to the region, and sourced locally. Yes, it was served in sandwich form, because that was the tradition.
STONE AGE SANDWICHES – DELICIOUSLY DIFFERENT
WE were guided through candle-lit packed tables set into all the nooks and crannies of a winding cave complex – entirely natural. ‘Torches’, and stone-shielded lights were set into the walls seemingly randomly. It was all very cleverly contrived. We were seated close to a small coal fire; but there was an equally small window open nearby.
“It may be hot outside,” said Graham, “but I expect they need a bit of heating in here. The temperature will be constant.”
THE FOOD WAS CHARMINGLY RUSTIC
Waitresses came round with long, linen-covered baskets of hot flattish rolls. They showed us how to split them in order to make our ‘sandwiches’. The focaccia ‘cobs’ were of rough stone-ground flour. They were both light and deliciously tasty. Bowls appeared; smallish ones. There was a very smooth pork pate in one; creamed mushrooms in another. A third held ‘rillauds’, which turned out to be made from a puree of navy beans – surprisingly tasty. There was a large bowl of very fresh salad, and then, to our surprise – a small casserole each.
Breaking Bread
NO FRENCH TABLE COMPLETE WITHOUT WINE AND WATER
A bottle of local red wine was placed next to a carafe of iced water.
WE WOLFED DOWN A SURPRISING NUMBER OF ‘STONE-AGE SANDWICHES’
Washed down with the wine, and accompanied by the salad, we found we were enjoying our lunch of a surprising number of ‘sandwiches’; for the baskets of bread kept circulating.
FESTIVE CAVE – JOLLY FAMILY PARTIES
There was such a festive air in the cave; several family parties enjoying the novelty of it all. There was a dessert, but I cannot remember what it was. We thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and emerged into dazzling sunlight.
Parties dining
I MAKE A DISCOVERY
A Narrow passageway in Les Caves de la Genevraie
As usual, my first priority was to find a toilet. While Graham was eagerly photographing, I went through a small wicket gate, thinking it a likely move.
It did not lead to my Shangri La, but instead I found myself in a large, natural cave with offshoots and little stairways. It was evidently used for storage. This haven was entirely natural, and very beautiful and intriguing. I called Graham to look, but he said that first he must help me up the many steps to the facility I needed, right at the top of the grotto in which we found ourselves.
Duty done, we went down again and both more thoroughly poked around in the restaurant’s hidden storage facility – an utterly unspoilt cave that must have been in use for many centuries. I thought how I would have adored being there when I was a child. Most probably I would have driven my parents frantic, for I would surely have ‘got lost’ again in climbing that intriguing narrow stairway that disappeared round a bulging outcrop.
“I don’t think we need go searching for any more troglodyte dwellings, do you?” I asked, thinking we had stumbled upon a fair sample.
Somehow we were in ignorance that for about 9 euros we could have taken a tour of a complete Troglodyte village (about 4 houses, I have learned.) It finishes with a ‘train’ ride. This sounds as especially appealing and useful knowledge for kids.
We finally emerged from the Cathedral into warm sunshine. I had a grand time zooming along on my scooter, exploring all around the old streets, and enjoying the garden surrounding another great church. It stood on an elevated site, and to one side we looked down on a street of extremely elegant half-timbered houses, dating from a later period – we guessed 17th century.
CHARMING ROUEN – LOOKING FOR LUNCH:
We found a student quarter where we could have lunched cheaply, but every café, both indoors and outside was crammed with young people who probably had limited time. And of course, there was a lot of noise. I felt sure there must be a better option close by.
A CHARMING SPOT IN ROUEN for DELICIOUS FOOD
I took off ahead of Graham, and not far away, up a side street, I found a lovely quiet, and very French café in a charming little corner. Trees shaded the tables, and a few larger ones sat under their own canopies. It was just behind and above the cathedral and off the Rue de La Republique. We entered it from a picturesque ancient passage called the Rue de Chanoines.
(L’Espiguette, 25 Place St-Amand, Rouen.)
Even although it was not yet one o’clock we were lucky to find the only small table for two that was not reserved. We were the only foreign customers. We felt we had struck gold – as indeed we had. The young manager (perhaps owner?) was very persuasive in talking us into what proved to be one of their 3-course specials. This was not what we had planned, but we were very pleased in the event. The delicious, well-presented food was worth every penny – and surprisingly reasonably priced for the quality and ingredients.
L’Espiguette
CHARMING MEMORIAL GARDEN FOR ‘THE RESISTANCE’:
A Magnifcent Wisteria Arbour
We decided in the afternoon to visit a promising looking garden on our route back to the Ibis. To my initial chagrin, Graham chose the ‘wrong’ garden from the SatNav list – but my mood changed when it turned out to have been dedicated to the WW2 Martyrs of the French Resistance in Rouen. As a child in that war I am still very grateful to them, and in awe of all courageous Resistance Fighters.
This garden is truly a ‘Peoples’ Garden’; well attended, and with greenhouses and a water-rill garden-in-progress.
(Le Jardin les Plantes, Rouen)
WE EXPLORE – WATER GARDEN – CIDER BARN – ARBOURS
There was a picturesque old barn that proved to house a cider-press (intact) with various bits of ancient kit outside. This provided Graham with several photo-shots; but he is most proud of his studies of a lovely wisteria that overhung a little arbour where we sat in the shade. The weather had grown unexpectedly hot and humid.
Charming Rouen – Cider Barn and Press
The Conservatory
I ENJOY ‘CONVERSATION’ OF FEW WORDS:
Later, we made our way to the principal, grand conservatory. It was closed, but I got into a very satisfactory conversation with a French lady my own age. She had about as many English words as I had French (between three and ten at that stage, I’d say). We got along like a house on fire until she indicated that she’d like to get back to reading her book.
THE FRENCH ARE A COURTEOUS RACE
During this month’s tour through France we found every French person we met to be courteous. All were very helpful and friendly. We saw no indication of resentment regarding Brexit, although when we invited comment it was clear that there is a general unhappiness about Britain leaving. Probably anger, also; though only a very few allowed it to show.
CHARMING ROUEN – MY SEAFOOD WAS SWIMMING IN CREAM
We went back in the evening for a very light supper to that restaurant next to our hotel – the Ibis Budget/Zenith, Rouen. We chose crepes. I was disappointed to find my seafood crepe swimming in cream, which I found a bit overwhelming.
We did not go into the tourist office in Rouen, for some reason. (I think because there was so much ‘in our faces’.) Had we done so we might have learned where the only outdoor statue of Joan of Arc could be found – in a very modern church (and museum?) Presumably, Rouen feels too ashamed to put up a prominent statue of her in the city where she was burned to death.
I have since learned that there are several sites in the town that track her last months, and where you can read details of her lengthy trial. We are sure to return to Rouen (so easily accessible) and I shall make sure to find out more about this incredibly charismatic saint.
We made sure to stop and explore Ostuni, which was on our way to join the coast road. Another remembered favourite, it is called locally The White City because from a distance its hill is crowned with sparkling white buildings. Once inside, we were enchanted by the steep and narrow, winding cobbled streets in the old town. Unsurprisingly, every house was painted a fresh, glaring white, which set off the pots of geraniums on steps and balconies, and the festoons of bougainvillea of every hue.
Ostuni-alleyway
NARROW LANES – TEMPTING LITTLE SHOPS
Ostuni-visitors-climbing-the-steep-streets
In the upper town we found many small, whitewashed shops in the narrow lanes. We were all attracted by nice souvenirs, like clothes being sold off cheaply at end-of-season. I bought some elegant scarves and pashminas for Christmas gifts on our return, and wished we could have found room in our car for some of the colourful pottery. I fell in love with some intricately pierced white china lamps, and antique terra-cotta amphora, which I would have argued to find room for could we have afforded them.
We may find many more examples of the potter’s art in this area if we are ever able to return.
VIVIEN AND I BEHAVE LIKE TEENAGERS
Vivien and I had great fun trying on hats in one shop. Hats do not suit me, but I was disappointed when she did not buy an immense floppy-brimmed job in bright mustard yellow. She looked fabulously elegant in it, and the colour suited her. There was also a treasure-trove of costume jewellery. I bought some for small gifts for friends when we returned home.
Ostuni is very close to Cisternino, where many Trulli are dotted by the road and in further fields only a couple of miles out into the country.
WE SEARCH IN VAIN FOR A REMEMBERED RISTORANTE –
I was surprised and a bit miffed not to find a wonderful ‘wine cellar’ restaurant we’d visited five years before – but later, when we stayed those two nights with Francesca after taking Vivien to her plane in Brindisi, I think we found it in Ciobica, the next little town towards Cisternino, but on the other road. Sadly, at that time of day, it was closed.
Pompei was our next stop, where we were fearful of taking our germs. We were both thankful that the journey that day took only 2hrs 22 minutes, because by now the influenza symptoms were raging within me, also. We both dreamed of taking our aching limbs straight back into bed.
POMPEI – HOW WE FIRST MET OUR ITALIAN FAMILY
We had booked four nights with Martina and her brother Salvatore in their B&B La Casa di Plinio. For some years now it has been rated in Trip Advisor as the No.1 ‘Hotel’ in Pompei. This was our fourth stay with them. We had received such a warm welcome on our very first visit in 2009 to view the ruins, when Martina’s mother, Antonella, was in charge of La Casa de Plinio (Martina being on holiday).
Antonella had insisted on ushering us into the owner’s private kitchen, where she plied us with wine and cakes (we had been out for a pizza already). When her husband, Andrea, came in from work, we settled into a convivial evening, with the help of a tablet he owned (very new, then) which translated our conversations both ways.
POMPEI – GOING BACK IN ORDER TO SEE THE REST OF ANCIENT POMPEII
So in 2011 we arranged our route to stay a night or two at La Casa di Plinio with this welcoming family on our way down to the heel of Italy.
We also booked five nights in 2014, planning to view the ‘other end’ of the vast Roman site. (We like to take our time and explore in depth).
IN 2014 CONSERVATION OF ANCIENT POMPEII LED US TO HERCULANEUM
It was a bitter disappointment then to find that all the great villas at the station end of the Pompeii site were closed for conservation – including the famous brothel, with its naughty murals.
POMPEI – A ‘DROP-EVERYTHING’ WELCOME
Vincenzo
The minute we arrived at La Casa di Plinio in 2014 Martina must have telephoned the entire family, because within ten minutes all were there, kissing and hugging us. Martina’s partner Vincenzo, and Salvatore, her brother roared up on their motorbikes. They had taken time off work just in order to show us their pleasure at our arrival!
2014 – WE ARE TOLD ‘YOU ARE OUR FAMILY’
Martina and Salvatore’s mother, Antonella, closely followed them. She is an incredibly beautiful woman with a heart as fair as her face. She was leading HER mother…
That was when we were told ‘you are our family, Jackie; Graham. You eat with us tonight. Andrea will be home from Naples.’ Thus was formed a bond which will never break. Italians really treasure ‘famiglia’. More openly apparent than in some families back in England.
HERCULANEUM
WE ‘TRY’ HERCULANEUM – AND FIND IT REWARDING
We had already thoroughly explored the two colossea in Pompeii: Also the forum, the graveyard and the numerous streets that led to the site café. We reluctantly decided that perhaps a trip to nearby Herculaneum might be the better option on that holiday. It was a fortunate decision. In some ways the smaller site is more rewarding. In Herculaneum many houses, and even blocks of Roman flats, are still quite intact. This was due to the way the holiday resort was instantly buried under hot ash. This preserved even wooden furniture (now in Naples museum) and balcony rails and still-bright roof tiles. I would love to see one house furnished with replicas of the originals.
HERCULANEUM – FOSSILISED SKELETONS OF FLEEING FAMILIES
Instead of casts of the bodies found, as in Pompeii, in Herculaneum you can still view the fossilized skeletons of the families who had fled to the ‘last haven’ – the boathouses by the old seashore. We found it intensely moving, as did Lolly and other visitors on our later trips.
POMPEI – DRIVING AROUND VESUVIUS
We also drove the winding road around Vesuvius, discovering some intriguing towns. One was full of very good wall paintings. We bought excellent ‘volcanic’ wine, and fresh cherries and other fruits from farmers selling at the roadside.
POMPEI – A FEAST WITH OUR ITALIAN ‘FAMIGLIA’
There was a memorable feast that year (2014) with our ‘famiglia’. It was the night before we first explored Bari, and hopped on the overnight ferry to Croatia. It was supposed to be our treat to our lovely host family. However, we strongly suspected that Andrea, the father, had another arrangement with the owner of the restaurant they picked.
– AND AN ASSORTMENT OF RELATIVES AND FRIENDS
We sat outside at a large table placed beneath cunningly lit vines. It was all very romantic. Andrea insisted on taking over the ordering. Food kept coming – in the Italian way. As did various relatives and friends of the family. They would turn up and plonk themselves down on a spare chair, and often partake of a course or two. This is also a common Italian custom. The lovable Italian people open their big hearts so readily. They are the experts in extending celebration and welcome to all who seek them out: An example to us all.
Since then we have been embraced as part of the Casa di Plinio family – Antonella, Andrea, and their children Salvatore and Martina; and Martina’s partner, Vincenzo.
POMPEI – BACK IN 2016 AGAIN – HUGS, KISSES AND COOKING:
As usual, the moment we turned into the courtyard, Martina was on her mobile phone, rushing down from her flat and letting us in through the large gate. Within fifteen minutes the entire family surrounded us. We were hugging and kissing (couldn’t stop them, but averted our faces when they kissed – we didn’t wish to pass on our germs).
Salvatore and Vincenzo had left their work, and had to rush back – but they still came. As usual, roaring up on their motorbikes.
Andrea’s work took him much further afield, but that evening he cooked a special welcome meal for us in the house where he and Antonella live. Graham and I struggled to do justice to the delicious food, the ‘flu having robbed us of all appetite.
POMPEI – WE RECEIVE TLC.
Our Italian family (they long ago adopted us) were great. I don’t know what we would have done without their loving help. They were in the throes of redecorating all the rooms, which they do every year. They did not close while the refurbishing went on, as they had planned.
Despite this we both stayed in bed for three days, and because I was still very poorly they agreed that we could stay out the week, which gave me two more days in bed. So Martina accepted another couple, and also an Italian family, the mother of whom became a thorn in her side. ‘I’ll never accept Italians again. They are the worst,’ she declared. (I’m sure that’s not true, really.)
MARTINA NURSES ME – AND CANCELS OUR NEXT B&B’S
Graham got up on the fourth day but I stayed in bed. Martina had the work of cancelling two nights at Cinque Terre and one at Orange, which we had both looked forward to seeing. We’d also very regretfully cancelled our original booking to stay again at the charming house of Svetlana and Lucio Bigero in the eco-park of Selva Grande. They are very charming people, who welcome you into their home. The accommodation is spacious and colourful, and full of good art. The rest of the house is also a reflection of its lively minded and artistic owners, with lots of books and musical instruments.
B&B Villa Selva Grande, 00060 Sant’Oreste, Metropolitan City of Rome, Italy. Phone: +39 329 681 7194
Whilst there, we had planned to again eat at a small restaurant where the chef is ‘passionate about food’. It is situated at the foot of a nearby mountaintop town full of artists and craftsmen. Even the little shops were artistic and colourful.
Instead, we decided on a more direct route of one-night stops in order to reach the Channel tunnel on the 29th November.
POMPEI – HOT DRINKS AND A LIGHT, NUTRITIOUS LUNCH
Meanwhile, Martina kept popping in with hot drinks and offers to make food. We declined, until on our last day, when I knew I must get up (we’d be travelling next morning).
To our surprise Antonella arrived and cooked lunch for everyone, including Martina’s delightful, hardworking assistant, Anna. We met her wedged in, crowded around the small table. She was passing bowls of a very light spaghetti dish containing Calabrese (and celery? It was a long time ago). I know the sauce was light green and so delicious that I managed to eat half of my bowlful.
Farewell Lunch at La Casa di Plinio
POMPEI – CAR REPAIRS – FAMILY FAREWELLS.
We left Pompei on Sunday the 20th. November, 2016.
I felt pretty rough, but just well enough to travel. At least the delay had given Graham time in the last day or two to use our friends’ motor mechanic to check out the Golf. (After all our challenges our eleven-year-old steed was starting to show signs of wear.)
A Good job, too! The mechanic found two valves in the water system that were almost blocked. He replaced the cheapest and cleaned the dearest, and said we should now have no trouble and safely see the white cliffs of Dover. (How we were going to do that from the tunnel begs the question…) Graham, delighted by the low bill, said he was being cheerfully Italian.
LEMON & ORANGES FROM THE TREE
Before we left Graham went into our friends’ garden and picked a lemon and some oranges. The temperature in the sun was a pleasant 21C. So with the warmth and the sun shining, not a bad place to have ‘flu, we thought. Better than England in mid-November.
POMPEI – IF THEY STILL HAVE SPACE – DO NOT MISS THIS SPECIAL B&B:
B&B La Casa Di Plinio Via Stabiana 3, 80045 Pompei, Italy.
Home: 0818598960; Martina Mobile: 00393339453170; Salvatore Mobile: 00393934008187
e mail: info@lacasadiplinio.com
After F1’s ‘Healthy breakfast’ of cornflakes, undrinkable coffee and a tiny, limp croissant (€7 each) that day’s country route to Sorges was the most scenic so far. The A20/A9 took us through the spectacular ‘Dordogneshire’ countryside. Majestic trees, gorges, cliffs, rivers – ooh, I could go on…
EARLY ENOUGH TO SEE BREAD PULLED FROM OVEN –
This was our earliest start by far. (7.30am). We found a misty back road, and soon reached a small village. School buses drew up in the square as we parked outside a tiny, old-fashioned bake house. We could see inside to where a man had just opened a small door in the wall. He then went back to where very long-poled ‘paddles’ were hanging from hooks in the high rafters. He selected one (the four-foot paddle made the whole tool measure at least sixteen feet.) He pushed it into the oven and started drawing out aromatic loaves of bread.
AND PASTRIES GRABBED BY HUNGRY SCHOOLBOYS
We stood in the entrance to a miniscule ‘shop’, hoping to buy one, but were suddenly bypassed by a large posse of schoolboys, who suddenly appeared with jam tarts and similar goodies in their hands. These were unwrapped, because they were wolfing them down as they streamed back to their buses, which promptly drove off. We gladly accepted small, very strong coffees in paper cups.
ARGENTON-SUR-CREUSE
SPECTACULAR VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE
This was the start of the spectacular scenery and romantic chateaux on this country route to Sorge. But what stood out for us was when, right on the road, we came upon the small town of Argenton-Sur-Creuse (as per my planned itinerary). Parking in a side street with houses of mixed age, we walked round for a bit, looking for the river, and Graham suggested taking the next turning. I was reluctant, feeling tired – but how wrong I was! We found ourselves by a lovely old bridge, and there were truly ancient houses rising straight out of the water on one side.
A patch work of rooftops at Argenton-sur-Creuse – another medieval town on route
The opposite bank had grander buildings and trees, and a golden statue of the La Bonne Dame winked in the sun from its perch atop a high bell tower.
GRAHAM TAKES PHOTOS – I FIND A HANDY BAR
While Graham took photos from the bridge I turned into the narrow, cobbled street and found a tiny bar. I yet again badly needed of a toilet – a tedious priority of advancing years.
AN UNUSUAL LOCAL BAR
I was intrigued by the bar, which was run by an ageing lady who by her makeup and dress must have been called Fifi. Why do I say this? Because there was something racy about the scarlet interior. The walls were smothered with photographs of bygone glories, including lots of famous jazz players. I could smell strong perfume as she ushered me through a bead curtain to a tiny but very clean loo in the back.
CAFFE-CLACKING
When I returned I was greeted in English by three mature lady shoppers enjoying their coffee. The hostess joined in whilst washing and shredding large lettuces that looked as if pulled from the ground ten minutes before.
The old mill sitting in still waters at Argenton-Sur-Creuse
Graham later joined us and we had an enjoyable morning break, drinking coffee and chatting. Two elderly gentlemen came in and gave us much local information and history.
SHADY RIVERSIDE WALK
Before getting back on the road, because we had ample time, we took a good walk along the shady, tree-lined riverbank in the opposite direction, and Graham took several photos, both looking back and over the river, but principally of two mills – one on each bank. (One is on the slider on the Home page.)
The high church tower at Thiviers that overshadowed our route
We got talking to a local lady walking her dog.
A HIGH-CLASS BOULANGERIE
This must have been the day we stopped to lunch in the dining room of a high-class boulangerie further along on the road – and very good it was. Because of the extreme heat we bought baguettes for our evening meal, feeling that possibly we could not face a large, beautiful dinner that evening. Into the cool box they went, to be eaten later with tomatoes and grapes.
The country road A9 took us through Thiviers, which had an enormous church tower, and an impressive chateau- seen from our car.
Memory then aided us in finding our special hideaway discovered two years before: Le Grain D’Art, Sorges.
We took a lovely country route to St Emilion, less than an hour and a half away if using the main road.
Instead, we chose a country route through some ancient villages.
The land was flat. We felt we were travelling through a sea of vineyards. I cannot remember now in which villages we saw not a few recognisable ‘wine label’ chateaux. All are very famous – both for their history and the wines produced in their vineyards.
I noted Bergerac, St Antoine-de-Breuilly, St Magne-de-Castillon.
A very narrow road followed, over a small bridge and into a tiny hamlet, which announced a wine festival the very next day – Saturday, 26th November.
OUR CAR ISSPRAYED WITH CONCRETE
But that was after we had been deviated through the outskirts of a small town where extensive road works were underway; and in a suburban side street our car was sprayed with concrete from a mixing machine; it displays splashes on one side to this day…
Entering the town
ST EMILION – DRIVE UP THE HILL – AND YOU ARE IN the 14TH CENTURY
We were enchanted when we drove up the winding hill into the southern end of St Emilion. We quickly found the Logis De Jurats where we had booked a room for two nights.
Our host met us at the door. On the telephone that morning he had kindly agreed that we could book in early, owing to our hasty exit from Chateau de Horreur.
LIKE US – THEY HAVE LOVINGLY RESTORED THEIR OLD HOUSE THEMSELVES
He and his wife are Dutch. In faultless English he explained how they had bought the attractive old house as a long-empty commercial building…
In a very dilapidated state, it had taken two years to restore and convert to this B&B, doing all the labour themselves. Such effort we appreciated and admired.
A GREAT TRANSFORMATION
They had kept the stone walls, cleaned to a lovely cream shade, and had done the minimum to ‘prettify’ the building – indeed, if anything, it had a bare look. But a décor of white walls and navy-blue door in our small room was very clean and attractive. We felt that Ikea had helped in furnishing both bedroom and ‘cupboard’ en-suite, as maximum use was made of limited space.
GOOD VALUE B&B FOR ST EMILION
The rent was not cheap compared to most we had paid. Breakfast was an extra item that we did not take; but great thought had gone into seeing that every need was catered for – including a good tea and coffee maker in the breakfast room.
This was, after all, St Emilion. One does not expect to get cheap lodgings in such a famous, exceptionally beautiful and expensive town. And our hosts were very pleasant, and happy to chat (in excellent fluent English) on all sorts of subjects; so we were well satisfied.
We had all that afternoon and evening to explore the charming town of St Emilion. The next day, my requests to go back to the little wine festival were contested (we have an agreement regarding taking turns to make choices.)
We went instead to Bordeaux, which we felt was most impressive when seen from the other side of the wide River Dordogne. Such a pity it took ages of inching through traffic to get near the centre. We decided not to linger; the weather was still hot and a little sweaty. We instead returned to the large bar in Libourne where we had stopped that morning for coffee, this time buying refreshing citron pressè. The lady serving greeted us with a wide smile, as though we were old friends.
ST EMILION – DO NOT MISS THE TOURIST INFORMATION CENTRE
That evening we entered the upper end of St Emilion and discovered the impressive Tourist Information Centre behind a colonnade of stately 12th century arches (we think part of a cloister), fronting a very ancient building that was presumably once the abbey. We did not have time to tour the famous, stately old wine cellars; but they look marvellous in the brochure.
ST EMILION – ALWAYS EAT WITH THE LOCALS!
At last we got over our ‘flu – and were suddenly ravenously hungry. Picking our way down the winding, cobbled streets we passed many pretty little restaurants, but we guessed that they would charge equally pretty little prices. So we returned to our first port of call; the Restaurant Amelia Canta in the main square.
The Amelia Canta Resturant
ST EMILION – RESTAURANT AMELIA CANTA.
SO IT’S NOT IN THE TOP TEN – BUT IT’S VERY GOOD;
ALWAYS PACKED -AND IT’S AFFORDABLE
(We were watching our pennies; returning home from a long 10,000 MILE tour through Italy, Sicily and France).
This restaurant was always full in the three days (in late November) that we were in St Emilion. It was constantly lively; both indoors, and outside in the large courtyard. Best of all – it was used by a good proportion of locals. It had a wonderful, carefree atmosphere. Both the restaurant room and the courtyard outside were buzzing with happy chat and laughter – everyone clearly enjoying themselves.
Diners at the Amelia Canta Resturant
INSIDE AND OUT – THE AMELIA CANTA IS TYPICAL SOUTH OF FRANCE
Our Waitress
We found the food imaginative and of good quality – plus you could order glasses of quite good wines at reduced prices. We sampled several in this way before buying bottles from local traders.
I CALL THE YOUNGEST WAITRESS ‘BILLY WHIZZ’
Best of all – the waiting staff were all delightful; welcoming, always cheerful, despite being run off their feet giving good service to everyone. A Special Mention for the young waitress Alexandra (see pic.). She literally charged around as if rushing to a Rugby scrum. In one trip she was delivering food to one table, picking up dirties from another on her way back to pick up a bill, then seating people on her way to collect payment. She never muddled orders, was patient with boisterous children and always had a laugh and a joke. She merits an award!
Wandering the streets
ST EMILION – AN EXCEPTIONALLY BEAUTIFUL MEDIEVAL TOWN
St. Emilion is an exceptionally beautiful town in a country that excels in them. It is also one of the best-preserved mediaeval towns. In our opinion (determined by the extent of our travels) it is rivalled only by Sarlat-le-Canéda in this respect: (not so far away, in the Dordogne).
St Emilion boasts two grand old churches. One, in the main square, next to Amelia Canta, was built into the attractive golden rock. To our chagrin it seemed only parties of tourists could gain access. There are also the remains of a castle; the high tower commands sweeping views of the vast plain of vineyards all around.
ST EMILION – BUYING VERY GOOD AFFORDABLE WINE
Wandering the streets
We did not find time, and had not the money, to buy the very best vintages, so we did not get to explore the impressive and historic underground wine cellars beneath some shops – but the photographs showed them to be very beautiful.
ST EMILION – YOU CAN’T LEAVE WITHOUT WINE – FOLLOW THE LOCAL FRENCH RESIDENTS
We could not leave St Emilion without buying some of the local wine. There was not now any room in our car for much.
In the end we went down a side street to a small, private shop, which was selling bin-ends. We had noticed all the French bearing home baskets and bottles from it. Now, since we have sampled it, we are well pleased with our purchases. (We do not have the details; it does not appear, like the high-end wine shops, in the posh town guide. We suggest you treat yourself to a visit to the town and search for it yourselves – just follow the local residents! )
This is our very favourite B&B in the whole of France (as we so far know it!)
It is the exceptional hospitality from the hostesses that has sent us back repeatedly to this charmingly restored ancient farmhouse. It adjoins the famous Abbaye Villelongue – though not anymore belonging to it.
Abbaye Villelongue
WE COUNT ON A WARM WELCOME
Driving through that storm, we could not wait to get there. We eagerly anticipated the usual warm welcome. We little knew the shock we would cause.
A LONG TIME FROM MARCH TO NOVEMBER
In early March 2016 I definitely wrote an email to Claude asking her if it would be possible for us to stay for one night late in November. Would they still be open? I am pretty certain she wrote back to say arrangements could be made.
By November I was convinced in my own mind that I had followed this up at some point with the definite booking for November 23rd. But March is a long way away from November. Even if I did… And Claude is very efficient; I imagine any booking I made would almost certainly have been entered into a register.
THE WORST STORM IN AUDE HISTORY?
We could hardly see out of the Golf’s streaming windscreen. Graham had to inch through the last miles of country lanes taking us to St Martin-le-Vieil, and then on to the Abbeye de Villelongue. We arrived outside the farmhouse about 7pm, and were instantly soaked through as we jumped out of our car.
It was our fourth stay with them in their historic house, but this time for only one night. (I must confess here that due to the ‘flu we had both forgotten to remind them in advance of this November arrival.
The Front Door
CLAUDE’S HAMMER-HORROR MOMENT
Wet branches swung out to lash us in the face, whilst thunder rumbled from the billowing grey/black clouds just discernible against the night sky. A sudden ‘CRACK’ and forked lightning threw the house into sudden relief. We staggered forward against the tearing wind…
And so it was that two wet and bedraggled visitors hammered on the front door, hoping that the sisters in their flat above would hear us. As great luck would have it Claude appeared with an armful of wood from the store at the back of the house.
She gasped when she saw us through the small pane of glass in the door (and who could blame her?) She was soon joined by Renée, who frowned: but the door was opened and
“What are you doing here?”
A SLIGHT DISPUTATION
You can imagine our relief when they beckoned us inside; from the expressions on their faces we had both feared they would turn us away.
In the downstairs hall I reminded them of the booking made in March. Claude denied all knowledge of it. I think that because we had corresponded as friends she had forgotten she’d answered ‘Yes, come – welcome’, or words to that effect. After all, it had been eight months ago!
They were clearly put out, having ‘closed down’ for the winter. They appeared to ignore our profuse apologies. I felt about five years old; I expected to be told to stand in the corner…
THE SISTERS QUICKLY ADAPT – I SHRINK…
Nevertheless they quickly adapted. They even insisted on coming out to help us with our bags, ignoring our insistence that it was not necessary, as we were only bringing in small knapsacks. I felt awful; a guilty small girl again – and I expect Graham felt the same…
NOT EXPECTED…
“We have not prepared food for you,” said Renee, her voice clipped. She ushered us into their comfortable sitting room (TV in here – a large one, which was promptly turned off). Their pretty cat came over to greet us – she seemed to remember us from former stays.
“Please don’t worry about food,” I said, remembering the sumptuous four-course feasts they usually provided. “We have little appetite –we’re recovering from ‘flu – but well past passing it on,” I explained hastily. “If it is at all possible, just a small bowl of soup each would be welcome – but please don’t go to any trouble.”
I felt pretty certain that such accomplished cooks would have some stock and leftovers or something which they could quickly rustle up into a soup. As it was we warmed up in front of a blazing log fire, and in about an hour two welcome bowls of gruel appeared. I wistfully hoped some bread would accompany it, but I guess they had none to spare. BUT- we were given the bedroom on the ground floor, which was a new delight for us (it has an especially lovely bathroom).
One of 4 Bedrooms
A HOUSE WITH A LONG HISTORY
This exceptionally good B &B is in the beautiful home of Claude Antoine and her sister Renée who go out of their way to ensure every comfort for their guests.
The house has a long history. Many centuries ago it was the living quarters of the monks in the adjoining famous abbey. Then – I do not know how far back, it became the farmhouse for the Villelongue estate and the home of the sisters’ family.
In World War 2 it was taken over by the Maquis – the French Resistance.
HARD WORK – GOOD TASTE – PERFECTION ACHIEVED
All I know is that when the sisters moved back in, the house was in a sorry state, with little or no furniture. Now, thanks to very hard work and shrewd buying at auctions etc. it is sympathetically restored, and full of lovely antique furniture. In every spacious room the beds are large and very comfortable, and there are armchairs and coffee tables. (No TV’s though, which does not worry us, as we don’t speak French. We are delighted to enjoy the elegant country lifestyle here instead.)
WE SHARE THE SISTERS’ BREAKFAST
In the morning we were invited to share their breakfast. It was more modest than in ‘the Season’; but still we enjoyed the same delicious crunchy bread. There was a small selection of local cheeses and their usual range of homemade jams. There was even some excellent dark orange marmalade; “brought from England by a guest”.
They had quite recovered from their shock and annoyance at us, but Claude shook Graham gently. She laughed, and said “Next time you come for more than one night. Yes?” So we know that before too long we will have to plan a holiday that takes us to the Midi-Pyrenees again. (Not such a hardship, really…)
(NOTE: And we did – we stayed FIVE nights with them in 2018 at their special rate.)
When I was handed the bill I saw that they had charged us a bit less than shown on the 2016 Bill of Fare in the bedroom – and nothing for our food. When I pointed this out they shushed me.
CLAUDE HAS A GIFT OF RARE WOOD FOR GRAHAM
Claude had emailed in March to say she had some exotic wood for Graham, which was when I had replied to request this booking.
Turned Apple made of Osage Orange
CLAUDE AND GRAHAM FORAGE IN HER WOODSHED
While I dug out the Euros for Renee, Claude led Graham to her wood store and the log she had been saving for him. (There is generally a gift of interesting wood for my craftsman husband).
This time he had to somehow find room in our overcrowded car for a log of rare Osage Orange (Maclura Pomifera). She cut him a generous length.
ENOUGH RARE WOOD TO SHARE WITH COUSIN CLIVE
There was enough to pass some on to my cousin Clive to experiment with in his woodturning (he was thrilled when presented with it upon our return). Also, she insisted we take a small branch of boxwood. I was amazed that Graham managed to find room for it in the back of our car, already piled high with luggage, wine and presents).
They both came out to see us off. This time I ventured to hug them both closely.
THEY HAD NOT EXPECTED A HUG – BUT THEY GOT ONE JUST THE SAME
“You are true good friends,” I told them, when they at last laid down the backpacks they had carried for us. They both looked slightly startled. “You made Graham special soup last year when he was feeling poorly, and we stayed an extra day without notice. And now we descended on you without proper notice again, and you still made us welcome and went to some trouble for us. I call that true friendship.”
“Then as friends you will stay longer next time,” Renee said with mock-sternness.
Jackie with Renee & Claude
CLAUDE AND RENEE WAVED US OFF…
I joined Graham in our extremely mud spattered car. The sisters waited by their gate until Graham had turned our car – then waved us off all the way to the corner in the lane…
And with that, off we went to explore Auch, presented as ‘The birthplace of D’Artagnan’, just as though the Fourth Musketeer had existed outside the pages of Alexander Dumas’ book!
This is still our favourite B&B in France. It especially appeals if you have a creative streak. The breakfasts and dinners they offer are exceptionally generous and delicious.
Don’t just take our word for it –
ALL the many reviews (in divers languages) of this B&B are five-star*****
We had booked four nights with Martina and her brother Salvatore in their B&B, rated for some time now in Trip Advisor as No.1 Hotel in Pompei. This was our fourth stay with them. (2009,2011; and in 2014 we stayed five nights before taking the car ferry to Croatia).
We had received such a warm welcome on our very first visit in 2009 to view the ruins, when Martina’s mother, Antonella, was in charge of La Casa de Plinio (Martina being on holiday). She insisted on ushering us into her private kitchen. There she plied us with wine and cakes (we had been out for a pizza already). When her husband, Andrea, came in from work we settled into a convivial evening with the help of a tablet he owned (very new then) which translated our conversations for all of us.
Since then we have been embraced as part of their family – Antonella, Andrea, and their children Salvatore and Martina; and Martina’s partner, Vincenzo.
POMPEI: HUGS, KISSES AND COOKING
Vincenzo
As usual, the moment we turned into the courtyard Martina was on her mobile phone, rushing down from her flat and letting us in through the large gate. Within twenty minutes the entire family surrounded us, and we were hugging (but NOT kissing – I warned against it!) All had left their work. Salvatore and Vincenzo had soon to rush back to their places of employment – but they still came.)
Andrea’s work took him much further afield, but he cooked a special welcome meal for us that evening in the house where he and Antonella live. Graham and I struggled to do justice to the delicious food, the ‘flu having robbed us of all appetite.
POMPEI: WE RECEIVE TLC.
Our Italian family (they long ago adopted us) were great. I don’t know what we would have done without their loving help. They were in the throes of redecorating all the rooms, which they do every year. Despite this we both stayed in bed for three days, and because I was still very poorly they agreed that we could stay out the week. This meant they did not close as they had planned. So Martina accepted another couple, and an Italian family, the mother of whom became a thorn in her side. ‘I’ll never accept Italians again. They are the worst,’ she declared. (I’m sure that’s not true, really.)
Graham got up on the fourth day but I stayed in bed. Martina kept popping in with hot drinks and offers to make food, which we declined. On our last day I knew I must get up, as we’d be travelling the next morning.
To our surprise Antonella popped in and cooked lunch for everyone, including Anna, Martina’s delightful, hardworking assistant. She was in the crowd around the table, passing bowls of a very light spaghetti dish containing calabrese (and celery? It was a long time ago). I know the sauce was light green and so delicious that I managed to eat half of my bowlful.
Farewell Lunch at La Casa di Plinio
We’d asked Martina to cancel our original two-night bookings in both the Cinque Terre and Orange. Instead, we took a more direct route of one-night stops in order to reach the Channel tunnel on the 29th November (not wanting to pay extra).
FAMILY FAREWELLS
20TH November.
We left Pompei on Sunday the 20th. I felt pretty rough, but just well enough to travel. At least the delay had given Graham time in the last day or two to use our friends’ motor mechanic to check out the Golf, which was starting to show signs of wear. Good job too! He found two valves in the water system that were almost blocked. He replaced the cheapest and cleaned the dearest. He said we should now have no trouble, and safely see the white cliffs of Dover; though how we were going to do that from the tunnel begs the question. Graham, delighted by the low bill, said he was being cheerfully Italian.
Before we left Graham went into our friends’ garden and picked a lemon and some oranges. The temperature in the sun was a pleasant 21C. So with the warmth and the sun shining, not a bad place to have ‘flu, we thought; better than England in mid-November.
