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.
Miss SatNav sent us past Saint Savinien and onto a small hamlet – a maze of huddled houses bisected by small lanes that were little more than tracks. It kept stopping us outside a bungalow that was clearly not our destination. In the end Graham used his mobile phone to dial the number on our confirmation document – he would not listen when I tried to read the detailed instructions that Valerie had sent. (It is a truth universally acknowledged that – Men always know best!!!!)
Our Hosts – John & Valerie
WE MEET OUR HOST
We found without further trouble the white house with the navy blue door and window trims – very smart. As our car drew up the door opened and out stepped a large man with an even larger grin. He rubbed his right hand down his somewhat shabby tee shirt, and thrust it out to us.
“Welcome,” he said – “I’m John,” and it was clear that our new host was yet another Englishman. He offered to make tea, but I needed (you’ve guessed it) so he said “I’ll take you to your room.”
WE FIND LUXURY IN THIS B&B
There was a steep little staircase to climb, and I started to panic, but we crossed a short landing, and he threw open a door. We were in a very spacious, beautiful room, full of colour and containing a wide, long bed. There was a single bed, too, tucked into a sort of ingle on the opposite side of the room. Both had beautiful, expensive-looking covers. Good paintings adorned the walls and there was a very nice desk beside the door.
OH BOY – A BATH I CAN LIE IN:
The bathroom was next-door. It appeared almost as large. I was delighted to see a large corner bath with seating-steps. I had found difficulty in the last couple of years in getting out of our standard bath at home. Lying down in it, as I longed to do, had been out of the question. With Graham’s help – maybe even without, this pleasure could be mine again for the two nights we were booked in.
PLENTY OF LARGE, THIRSTY TOWELS
As I took in the rack of large, thirsty towels I found myself wishing fervently that I’d booked more nights – allowed us longer to enjoy this luxurious accommodation.
AN EYE FOR ART
More was to come. John showed us more of the house, which was filled with works of art collected over the years; paintings both ancient and modern, some very nice sculptures – and a good sprinkling of amusing mementoes, some of them appearing to come from the United States. These were explained when John led us through the kitchen to drink our tea in the large conservatory that shielded it from the bright, hot sun outside. Before us stretched a long, tree-shaded lawn.
The conservatory where we had Breakfast
– AND OTHER SIMILARITIES
“Val’s out there, planting vegetables”, said John. “She’s vegetarian. Oh – I might mention she’s American – ten years older than me.”
Was this said to put us at our ease because of our age difference? We’d ceased to think about it years ago, until forced to by my recent sudden onset of severe breathlessness and consequent loss of energy.
“Before we go and find her, follow me.”
LOUNGE WITH LONG, SOFT COUCHES – AND OPEN FIRE
We discovered that a large lounge was at our disposal (really, a lounge – long couches on three sides around an open fireplace; beside it a large, state-of-the-art TV.) Obviously, they were used to more guests; probably inviting in the tenants of their two gites.
A MEZZANINE GALLERY
From one corner a classy wooden staircase led up to a gallery where we spotted what might have been another seating area – or possibly an open mezzanine bedroom. I longed to go up and look. Perhaps I’ll get the chance, because we have made up our minds that if at all possible, we are returning next spring for a week in this lovely place. There is a ground-floor en-suite that will suit us perfectly.
NOTE; We have since been told by John and Valerie that they no longer offer B&B in their home; but are increasing their self-catering gites. I am confident they will offer the same high standard.
WE MEET VALERIE – WELL ORGANISED AMERICAN
We crossed the lawn to meet Valerie, busy planting her little patch of veg. She is tiny; smaller than me. (I’m 5 feet tall and considerably chunkier, though not obese.)
Valerie is a sylph – she looks almost frail, but it soon became clear that this lady is a dynamo of energy, and very, very organised. She is responsible for the bookings – and probably much else around the spacious house.
View from the Conservatory – Perfect B&B
JOHN – GARDENER AND PHILOSOPHER
John, we learned, is constantly caring for and developing the nearly three acres of grounds; and, we think, managing the gites. We recognised immediately that they are ‘our sort of people’. Shared values, such as ‘Life is for Living – not existing’; and that amassing a store of good friends is more rewarding than stacking up a bigger pile of shekels than the next guy, had found us new friends.
“If I’m not enjoying what I’m doing,” said John, “then I stop doing it. Life’s too short.”
We benefited hugely from the delightful fruits of their philosophy – their relaxed attitude that nevertheless embraced much hard work, and the generous sharing of their great good taste in the short time we stayed with them. This couple do not stand on ceremony, but they offer their particular take on perfection to be enjoyed by all their guests. www.leruisseaudanslemarais.fr/welcome/
Cafe by the River
THE CAFÉ BY THE RIVER
Valerie and John suggested some places where we could eat that first evening. The ‘café’ by the river had pleased a lot of their guests, and was inexpensive compared to the rest. We ended up there that evening and had a seat looking out over the water watching children splashing and fishermen doing what they do – which appears to be very little… That evening we had a very good meal – particularly my seafood starter, which really would have been sufficient in itself. Les Quais de Taillebourg: French, Brasserie, Creperie and Bar. Route de la Brossardiere, 17350 Taillebourg, France. +33 5 46 91 73 28 Website
9th May:
TIRED IN THE HEAT
We woke up still feeling a bit tired after our full day with stops for sightseeing the day before; and that very late night on the 7th. The weather had been consistently hot for the past week, reaching 93 degrees Fahrenheit – possibly throughout our drive down with no Aircon. That’s a bit hot for us particular Brits. We like to feel a cool breeze on a nice warm day…
I can remember only that we were constantly seeking shade and cold drinks in this period. We have consistently found hotter weather in the middle of France.
WE FIND KINDRED SPIRITS
So I think we just washed before going down to breakfast at nine am, though I was longing to get into that bath (as was Graham.) The plan was to go up after breakfast; but our hosts joined us in the conservatory, and we could not stop chatting; we all had so much in common.
JOHN – KING OF THE TRACTOR
Graham went off to accompany John on his mini-tractor, with which he cut the grass of the extensive lawns. (This sit-on-mower was his pride and joy. Valerie was ‘strictly forbidden’- and Graham, if he’d hoped for a ‘go’ was thwarted.)
WALLOWING IN THE BATH
Still, my husband was gone a couple of hours; but I didn’t mind. Valerie and I chewed the fat. Ex-hippies both; she in California, (though if memory serves I believe she grew up in the Mid-west. Forgive me, please, Valerie, if this is all entirely wrong.)
I worried that I was keeping her from her ‘duties’, but she assured me that they take life very much as it comes. This was an object lesson in avoiding stress and still achieving super-efficiency.
Graham returned and we both made full use of that lovely double bath, and it’s equally abundant shower. Clean and refreshed, we sallied forth to find a light lunch and explore a bit more of St Jean d’Angèly. (We had not gone into the centre the night before).
BACK TO ST JEAN D’ANGèLY
It took only eighteen minutes to go back and discover the centre of the old town. The buildings in the main ‘place’ were mostly of the stately Napoleonic era, mixed with tall houses of simpler aspect. Many had those typical lavender window shutters.
Echoing back to the Napoleonic eraThe Famous Well
A COOL DRINK – BUT NOT FROM THE FAMOUS WELL
In the middle of the ‘road’ a café had set many shaded tables. We enjoyed a cool drink there, before I ventured down to look at the curious and ornamental old water fountain (or well?). It is now empty, but contains a curious contraption – a sort of wheel is set into it. Perhaps it was once used to bring up water – in any case, Google searches reveal nothing.
ST JEAN D’ANGÈLY – PICTURESQUE ROOFTOPS
Graham left me under the awnings set down the middle of the street while he climbed long, steep steps to explore views from the top of the town.
He came back full of enthusiasm, and I spent at least ten minutes peering into his point-and-shoot camera at the tiny, sometimes indistinct pictures of rooftops, far-extending views and those special twin towers, which looked less hideous than they had at close quarters the day before.
Clock tower
– AND LANDMARK CLOCK TOWER
A further walk around took us down some medieval streets to the landmark clock tower, which revealed itself atop a high arch, which rose above the roofs of the old, very tall, three-storied, elaborately half-timbered houses.
When we had satisfied ourselves that we had not missed any more significant landmarks, we got back in our car and headed for Saintes, about one hour’s drive away.
Meanwhile, we three carried on down to Otranto, where we had booked two nights with Lucio the hunter. He who, you may remember, we had met when we took Lolly to eat at Peppino’s. (Also, from the information on Lucio’s business card, our new host was quite big in banking.)
We had a very quick look around the town, which was just as well, because we had difficulty in finding the right road for Lucio’s farmhouse. Eventually Graham ‘phoned him for directions, and we found him waiting for us on the ‘main road’ where he hopped into our car to ‘talk us’ to our destination.
The ‘farmhouse’ was quite small, but had a nice, covered area for outside living.
We were taken inside and shown to our small but attractive bedrooms, both en-suite, to refresh ourselves and change for dinner. Afterwards, we relaxed in the comfortable lounge with aperitifs. The art on the walls (all depicting a hunting interest,) and the large, solid furnishings, declared that this was clearly a man’s home.
A MEMORABLE MEAL
I must tell you of the memorable meal we all enjoyed.
Lucio’s girl friend was there when we arrived, and that evening cooked some very good pasta with lamb and porcini; but his friends brought the piece-de-la-resistance.
They arrived bearing an enormous dish of delicately cooked seafood, caught by them that very afternoon. We had brought wine; almost sufficient for that company – but enough wine is never a problem in Italy. Everyone spoke English, and that meal was very convivial, with lots of laughter. We have learned that Italian and English people have a similar sense of humour.
MORE SMALL TOWN APPEAL – A MOORISH PALACE BY THE SEA
The once hotel-Mosque
The next morning we found Vivien and Lucio busy weeding in his garden. After we had managed to extract her and have a quick breakfast, we took a trip down the coast. There was something special we wanted to show Vivien. At the small, smart resort of Santa Cesaria Termewe stopped to look at a fabulous hotel on the edge of a cliff, which had been built to resemble a beautiful mosque, or Moorish palace.
When Graham and I first spotted it in 2011 you could see it from further up the coast. On first sighting it was gobsmackingly strange and beautiful, painted in various exotic colours. To our dismay, this time we found that the restoration work had ceased and vandals had helped to wreck it. The lovely colours were all faded. We could have cried, and the surprising impact we’d planned for Vivien was diminished. However, we bought lovely fresh figs and other fruit from a street vendor.
SMALL TOWN APPEAL – IS CASTRO APULIA’S SMALLEST RESORT?
Castro restaurant
A bit further down the road we spotted an attractive bar, just outside the old city wall. The courtyard seating, set within shrubs, had a good view of the water gently lapping the rocks. The enclosure was almost full of happily chatting people, and there were good smells drifting into our car.
‘Time for lunch’, I think’, said Graham, and by mutual agreement we all tumbled out .
We found a table, and upon studying the menu, Vivien gave a cry of delight. ‘They have a great variety of tapas,’ she announced.
That sounded perfect. Three choices each, and we’d all share.
Well – I still remember that lunch as a mini-feast. We were all quite stuffed by the time all the little dishes were emptied.
It was agreed that we could all do with a walk. Of course, I was a bit slow, and tired first, so I took the car keys and left the others to quicken their pace to take them round a bit further. It did not take them long to circumnavigate the whole huddle of dwellings.
Meeting back at the car we discussed what to do next. Vivien said she’d welcome a really good look round Otranto. Graham and I had already previously driven down this coast, so we readily agreed.
Old-defensive-tower
‘Can we stop and look at one of those strange stone towers on the edge of the cliffs?’ I asked. I had been intrigued with them the first time we’d seen them in 2011, and again, that day, on the way down.
Returning up the coast, the sun shining hotly again, we turned off the road onto a rocky outcrop which jutted into the sea. While Graham and Vivien climbed up to look at one of the unique stone towers which line that part of the coast, I returned to the rough track. Looking over the shoulder-high wall I found a hidden cove huddled down amongst the base of the steep cliffs upon which we were perched. Little boats moved lazily in and out, and a small motor boat was circling round and round, while a girl standing on the highest rock tracked it with her camera.
When the others joined me we all became fascinated by a family of lizards. One was quite enormous. They regarded us with the same curiosity we extended to them.
SMALL TOWN APPEAL – BUYING CHRISTMAS GIFTS IN OTRANTO
Otranto-city-walls
It was mid-afternoon by the time we parked on the quayside. Otranto is a very lovely town, full of diamond-flagged grand boulevards, and piazzas of pretty pinky-white stone; also those steep little streets of whitewashed houses. There was a beautiful old castle, which I explored with Vivien while Graham went his own way to take photographs. (He has only just confessed to spending the whole time relaxing in the shade outside a nearby bar, swallowing cold beers.)
Time to wander in Otranto
In the upper town we found many small, whitewashed shops in the narrow lanes. We all saw nice souvenirs, like clothes being sold off cheaply at end-of-season. I bought some more Christmas gifts (mainly jewellery)and again wished we could have found room in our car for some of the colourful local pottery. We may find many more examples of the potter’s art in this area if we are ever able to return.
SMALL TOWN APPEAL – IMPORTANT TREASURE – DON’T MISS THIS – 11thC MOSAIC
But the abiding memory of this town is the vast 11th century mosaic covering the entire floor of the old Duomo, the Cattedrale di Santa Maria Annunciata:
This enormous work was executed by one 11th century monk.
The church is now emptied of pews and altar so that visitors can walk round the edges and marvel at the beauty and detail of this colourful and sometimes quirky depiction of ‘The Tree of Life’. It is a beautiful cathedral with arched alcoves down one side, where we descended to the crypt, where there was a good exhibition about the history – and that of the town, too.
Tree-of-life
BELIEVE ME – WEEDS TASTE LIKE WEEDS
Lucio’s girlfriend had left that morning, and Vivien and Lucio told us that they would prepare dinner. We heard earnest discussion emanating from the kitchen, and wondered what they had in store for us.
I won’t say whose idea it was to serve weeds up for our evening meal – just that Graham and I later agreed (with grimaces) that they still tasted like weeds – somewhat bitter, however ECO-FRIENDLY they may be. Unfortunately, Graham didn’t take a photo; but needless to say, his good description of the vegetables was ‘nappy-green sludge’.
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.
Within 40 minutes we were entering Italy, though we found no border and no guards to check our passports. You would hardly notice the tiny sign tacked onto the rock walls of the mountain tunnel: It read simply ‘Italy’ above the red, white and green flag. (That’s the EU for you! A world without borders would be a nice thing to aim for.)
One of the many colonnades in NovaraThis tower could be seen miles away – up close it was very impressive
We were taking a route to revisit Novara, though I now see that Rivoliwas right on our road. Since 2016 I have learned that Rivoliis a ‘Must – see’ place. We missed – but you need not. Novarais a mainly modern town, but beautiful, with spacious elegant streets and squares paved in cream marble and stone tiles – even the roadways. As we arrived a sudden cloudburst sent us scurrying from our car to the shelter of the gracefully colonnaded streets, which we followed towards our destination.
This gilded statue seemed to hover in the sunlight
We did not, sadly, this time find the square with the many fountains, but we did visit the beautiful Basilica di San Gaudenzio . It has an especially impressive four-tiered cupola by the famed architect Antonelli. (It is visible for miles).
A FINE BUILDING – GOOD INFO
It is a fine building with good info:
The interior, apart from its side chapels (most famous being those of The Guardian Angel, with beautiful frescoes – and another to The Good Death), is relatively empty compared to other Italian church interiors. But the pillars are attractive – painted in designs reminiscent of the contemporary Books of Hours. The inlaid marble floor is beautiful, too. Most striking is the almost hidden gold figure of a saint in flight. He is holding a banner. I believe him to be San Salvatore.
Other Special sights in Novara –I P Broletto’s arcaded building; the Cathedral of Santa Martia Asssienta (huge, impressive, amazing statues; Casa Bossi (a lovely Romanesque building – hidden gem with a great past).
NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THIS CHARMING CITY
As usual, we could not spend enough time in this charming city on this, our third visit. We had to find the E64 to Presezzo The total drive from Embrun takes 5 hrs; but mainly we suffered from the intense heat, since our car’s air-conditioning had been wrecked by a careless mechanic during the pre-holiday checkup– and not worth replacing in a 2005 vehicle.
Lap of Luxury.
DAY 10: 11th & 12th September:
PRESEZZO – FIRST OVERNIGHT STOP IN ITALY
This is where we really lucked in. I don’t think we could have afforded this hotel while booking a three-month tour – our one and only. Luckily it came up on Booking.com with a generous special offer, and so we were able to enjoy staying in the lap of luxury for two nights.
A most strikingly beautiful conversion from a former ancient farm, we enjoyed everything about our stay.
BATHROOM WORTHY OF A POEM
Our semicircular ivory and malachite-tiled bathroom was worthy of a poem. The truly spacious bedroom had a curtained sitting area with couch, full sized TV, large refrigerator, and ample cupboards. I threw myself down on the enormous bed, exhausted from journeying (why is sitting in a car passenger seat so exhausting, I wonder?).
We enjoyed having drinks brought to us on the terrace, and walking through the many varied rooms – each with a different decor. Modern sculptures and paintings were successfully blended with antique furniture in many of the dining rooms – all uniquely different. There was an elegant small indoor bar, where you could ‘dive’ down steps through a cave entrance to find the gym and indoor swimming pool (there were smaller versions of both outside in the grounds). This place was such heaven that we did not explore the area far.
Settecento Hotel Via Milano, 3, 24030 Presezzo, Italy. (Our photos did not come out well, so please look it up for yourselves if interested).
Because of the heat we did not go to Bergamo on our free day in Presezzo, as planned.
The route we took on our day drip to Lago Isleo
Lazing by a Lovely Lake.
Instead, we visited the very small LagoIseo – and took a boat to the island in the middle. It was beautiful, though we soon got tired of walking – it was so hot. So we went back to the gelato by the quay and had Italian ice creams, then caught the little boat back to make use of the great facilities in our hotel for a welcome rest. I would LOVE to go back to both the lake and hotel. Here are some photos:
We would love some Ice Cream
All the Italian Northern lakesare beautiful – with anisland and a castle on top
The cypress that grow in the lake are very special
After finding some breakfast we really started our tour, taking the scenic route from Nemours to Orleans – then Bourges. Some low hills appeared, and we took an ‘A’ road through a few pretty towns. One had a picturesque abbey by a river. Children were bathing in the shallows beneath the bridge. We went through some attractive villages before stopping for coffee at Orleans– a truly beautiful city.
A more ancient narrower street of Orleans
Apart from some romantic medieval lanes it was spacious, and paved almost entirely in white or cream stone tiles – even some of the roadways. The large central ‘place’ was dominated by an enormous statue of Joan of Arc in full armour; her warhorse pawing the ground. Magnificent!
Joan of Arc dominated a large central square – Orleans
BANNERS OF JOAN’S KNIGHTS LEAD YOU TO THE CATHEDRAL
The wide avenue leading to the cathedral had a large banner of one of Joan’s knights hanging from each upstairs window. So – a colourful display before we reached the large circle with the cathedral in it’s centre. Orleans boasts a very clean and pretty cathedral, with sort of open stone ‘lanterns’ flanking the central spire.
Orleans Cathedral – first stop before carrying on our routeJoan-of-Arc-Orleans-stainglass
In the Cathedral.
Orleans Cathedral contains some truly exquisite old window glass.
Inside were two new ‘Rose’ windows on each side aisle. One had wonderful, truly golden intricate designs. The other was a melange of old shards. Both cast their colours onto the flagged stone floor of the aisle.
All around the nave were large, probably late Victorian windows depicting Joan’s life. A progression from humble shepherdess to crowning the Dauphin. The last, rather shocking window depicts France’s heroine stoic amid the flames. All around her British soldiers grin like snarling dogs. This, to a Brit, is very unfair, since a French friend has told us that it was a French bishop who handed her over to the Brits, and he ordered the burning alive.
THE COFFEE SHOPS OF ORLEANS – TOO MANY CUPS?
Dame Nature sent me scurrying into various coffee shops – one extremely grand; the ‘Ladies’ was worth a trip all to itself. Graham was a bit miffed about the cost of the espresso coffee, though – his third that morning, because of my needs. We explored a bit more and admired the very old timbered houses, taller than in England, with steeper sloping roofs and their often criss-cross exposed beams painted in bright colours. Then we passed over the impressive medieval bridge on our way to Bourges.
Do visit Orleans if you can – it is very rewarding
LA FERTE ST-AUBIN
SCENIC ROUTE TO BOURGES: Charming Chateau – Blissful Bistro
As we left there was a noticeable rise in temperature. Enjoying the sight of several chateaux, some old farms, and rivers bordered by trees, we made our way leisurely along the country road towards our next night’s stop. Presently, we came to Le-Ferte-St Aubin, a very small village. Standing back from our road was its really charming chateau. It was bordered by two straight channels of water decorated with ducks and gliding swans.
This Chateau was literally yards from the main road – so we did not deviate from our RouteThe roadside Bistro where we had lunch -a mile along from the Chateau
Nearby was a small bistro with people eating and drinking on the veranda. We decided to scoot along there, as it was nearly two o’clock.
A mouth-watering aroma assailed our nostrils as we approached:
The board offered a choice of three starters, three mains and three desserts; also cheeses. One of the diners started chatting. His English was good, and after urging us to check out the chateau he insisted fervently ‘Order the chicken – it is VERY good’. And so it was – one of our ‘memorable’ meals. Au Bistro Gourmand in Le-Ferte-St-Aubin– both bistro and village were small but special.
The timber house on the bridge at Vierzon
Afterwards, Graham took numerous pictures of the grand house – also named Le-Ferte-St Aubin, before pressing on.
VIERZON – A REMARKABLE BRIDGE-TOLLHOUSE
Being on the scenic route we did, however, pause in Vierzon(very picturesque by the river, with an exceptionally tall, thin, half-timbered house at one end of the bridge.) We stopped for a drink of citron presse and a walk round the lovely old town, despite the heat (about 35C even at 5pm) Remarkably, the sun had finally shown itself.
My biggest mistake; Booking an ‘F1’ outside Bourges.
I GUESS ‘YOU GETS WHAT YOU PAYS FOR’
This ‘hotel’ was certainly cheap. €29 bought us a tiny cubicle. However, I declined to shower in a stall used by about 400 truckers (our genial fellow guests, it appeared.) There was one lav and one shower per floor of about fifty rabbit-hutches. (Sorry, Graham says there was another lav tucked around under the stairs). The plastic-covered bed was lumpy and there were comings and goings all night. It was so hot we had to prop our door open, like every other ‘guest’. Many passed, giggling, returning from their night out. In comparison, the Kyriad at Coquelles, near Calais (of which more later), was terrific value despite somewhat rude staff.
DELIGHTS IN BOURGES
Heaven & Hell.
However, a quick trip that evening into Bourges itself was rewarding, especially the main doorway to the Cathedral in the picturesque ‘townhistorique’. It had a bas-relief of heaven and hell above the ancient, heavy wooden doors. Hell looked much more fun than heaven, which had saintly figures in faintly-coloured robes just standing about, whereas the inhabitants of hell were all naked and writhing…
Heaven and Hell and many doorways – Bourges Cathedral
There was an absolutely gorgeous garden at the back (see feature image). Though small, it had many statues. It was full of very bright flowers in plantings that were definitely un-British. Instead, we appreciated a French sense of design and unusual colour combinations that worked.
I walked between the beds sniffing the roses, but my sense of smell is diminishing these days. Regrettable, but not so bad as hobbling around in pain.
BOURGES’ EXCELLENT MUNICIPAL CAFE.
We were able to admire this haven while slaking our thirsts in comfort at the outdoor Municipal café (which mercifully provided toilets). The weather was very, very hot even in the evening – about 35C as I recall (95Faranheit).
BOURGES – HUMBLE MEAL – EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD SERVICE
Not very hungry, but quite tired, we decided not to look for a nice restaurant, but instead hurry back and get a snack at one of the ‘Industrial Park’ chains close to F1. After dispiritedly studying the bills of fare we ended up in a pizza-cum-sandwich bar called Patapain. Despite winding down in order to close in 20 minutes the staff obligingly heated us a pizza and said we could eat it there. They did not hurry us. We ended up buying some very healthy-looking pastries to take out. They were stacking chairs by now but were unfailingly pleasant and polite. I gave them a good review on Trip Advisor. Good service should always be acknowledged.
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! )
As we resumed our journey the sky darkened and presently we were in the midst of a storm. It slowed the driving, but diminished when we reached Narbonne. The town was on my list of places to stop and explore. We were both a bit tired, and so we went into the town and parked up by an ancient church, which had been turned into an art gallery. The girl on the desk was most unhelpful about letting me use their toilet, and so Graham and I hurried along to where we could see a tall tower, which must mark the centre.
The central Canal
BUT FIRST – A PROPER CUPPA
Presently we found ourselves beside a broad canal, and we followed it to the first café that presented itself. Miraculously, they served properly made English tea (the cuppa, that is). What a treat! We sank down onto a pavement chair and watched the comings and goings.
NARBONNE – PAST GLORIES – THE BELLE EPOQUE
We were admiring the building opposite; a rather baroque, large square place of several storeys. Carved in relief all along the top was information that this was an Emporium for Ladies A La Mode (as far as we could make out the French). Not any more. It looked largely empty, with several shabby little shops created out of the grand ground floor entrances. (We later realised that we were facing one of the sides of this once-imposing building).
The Old Department Store Building
NARBONNE HAS MANY FANCY LITTLE SHOPS
When we left we turned into a sort of passage behind the main street. It was full of intriguing little shops, and led out into another, much larger square. It had a sort of oblong trough in the centre, full of water. Perhaps the base for another fountain?
In front of that was the still attractive main frontage of what is now known as the ‘Monoprix Building’. Easy to locate, but such a comedown from its past grandeur.
WE LOVE HOW THE FRENCH DECORATE THEIR STREETS
The Ancient Fountain
Before us was that previously glimpsed tall tower. It was already decorated for Christmas. Like a giant gift parcel, it was tied up in broad red ribbon, with a neat bow in the centre.
‘Typical French wit,’ chuckled Graham appreciatively. We love French wit, which shows everywhere; in window displays and much street art. Even, as here, on buildings themselves.
This tower is part of what remains of the old castle. Attached buildings are beautiful, even in Civic use. (English Councils, take note!)
A BEAUTIFUL FOUNTAIN – ON NARBONNE HOTEL DE VILLE (town hall)
Still part of the castle complex, the town hall façade had been cleaned to show the attractive pinkish stone. Next to this beautiful fountain was a medieval, carved doorway. We walked in, admiring the tessellated floor, and the statues and other features in the round (or octagonal?) hall or atrium. Various offices led off, so we walked on. Through another arched doorway we found ourselves in a small, enclosed courtyard, with yet another eye-catching floor.
Gargoyle
NARBONNE – PALAIS DE ARCHEVEQUES
Had we more time, and the ability to read French, we would have loved to spend time looking at the town’s archives. Various illustrated displays showed a bronze statue of Romulus and Remus. We managed to track the original down in
The Museum of Arts and History of Narbonne. This was hidden in yet another inner courtyard where fascinating gargoyles were being restored.
After walking around this interesting town, we made our way back through a sort of ‘tunnel’ of yet more interesting little shops.
WOULD THIS BE ‘THE MISTRAL’?
A sudden high wind followed by driving rain caused us to hurry back to our car, which was just as well, because soon all was darkness and Graham had to negotiate narrow country roads in a raging storm.
LA COTE D’AZUR – WHAT A RIP-OFF – WE DIDN’T EVEN SEE THE SEA
To reach Brignoles, our destination for that night, the quickest way was on the A8 ‘Coast Highway for the Cote D’Azure’. I have decided that I hate that route; especially as it rained all the way. This toll road was lined by 1930’s 2-up-2-downs. We were charged upwards of three Euros when we passed by each of the Riviera towns from San Remo and Monte Carlo to Frejus, above San Tropez. There were about four of them as I recall, but they were not visible – no sight, nor even a sniff – of the desirable sea. We thought it a very unfair rip-off.)
HOTEL HIDDEN IN A CAR PARK
We had chosen Brignoles for our first overnight stop. Just because it was the first small town in France past all those exhausting tunnels above Genoa. Back in La Casa di Plinio in Pompei, Martina had hastily booked for us a night at an Ibis hotel, having heard they were cheap and good.
After much circling around and around an industrial park we eventually found the Ibis Hotel. It was hidden away next to a small slip road running by the toll road we would take in the morning. We were pleased to see armchairs in the lobby. All were occupied by young women sipping coffee, clustered around tiny tables.
A very pleasant, handsome Frenchman was running the place. When I showed him our booking form he told us we were not staying there –we had booked the ‘Ibis Budget’ hotel next door. I felt cheated, as I thought the price I’d paid (around £45 – though I may be mistaken) would have covered a room in the modest building we were standing in.
WE GET LOST – THEN HAVE TO LEARN A CODE
We searched high and low for the ‘Budget next door’ and in the end had to go back for Mine Host to point the way – obvious when you knew where to look!
He showed us how to tap in numbers on a machine to give us a card with OUR room Number. This would effect us entry into the secured front door, and later, our room. Nobody was manning the front desk. They would be in from seven pm until 10pm he said. He added ‘You can buy breakfast in the main hotel in the morning’.
We thanked him and I opened the front door for Graham to bring in our nightly backpacks. There was a drinks machine in the lobby, and one selling crisps and chocolate.
OUR ROOM WAS A PLEASANT SURPRISE
Hmm, I thought; but when we found our room we were pleasantly surprised. All white, small but very clean. It was well appointed, down to a hairdryer attached to the wall in the bathroom. Also, an ironing board and iron were in the tiny wardrobe. There was a good shower, adequate fluffy towels, and even a range of free toiletries. The bedside reading lamps worked, too – so not such a bad deal, after all. www.ibis.com/Brignoles
BRIGNOLES – A VERY ATTRACTIVE SMALL FRENCH TOWN
When we had washed and changed we emerged to find a very friendly girl at the front desk. She gave us directions into the nearby town, which we found very pleasant. It was raining, so we drove round for a bit before parking, then walking to the very attractive main square. It looked really ‘French’.
Light failing on wet pavements, Brignoles
A PRIEST TRIES TO DIRECT US
Here Graham stopped a priest and asked for a nice local French restaurant. The patient priest, huddling under his umbrella, kept trying to direct us to the ‘best Chinese in town’. I expect he was trying to help out the owner.
BRIGNOLES – A LOVELY AUTHENTIC FRENCH RESTAURANT.
However, I had seen an attractive small place in a back street,and remembered the way. We walked there and discovered an empty, rather dignified square right opposite. I waited while Graham walked to fetch the car and park there.
(It appears under Graham’s name, because I use his web page):
“It was sad that we were just getting over ‘flu and travelling slowly back to England when we found this charming restaurant in a side street. If we ever go back we will book a bedroom there, too – because their prices are very reasonable for a high standard of country living – French style.”
DELICIOUS FOOD IN LA HOTEL/RESTAURANT DE PROVENCE, BRIGNOLES.
I cannot now remember what we ate, but only that it looked attractive and tempting, and what we could manage to eat was delicious. It was, after all, the first full meal we’d ordered since catching ‘flu over two weeks previously. We had to apologise for the food left on our plate, and explained that it was in no way a shortcoming in the cooking. The hostess/waitress was very understanding. We left full of gratitude. Do try this pretty dining place.
(ADDRESS: Place du Palais de Justice, 83170, Brignoles, France. (phone: +33 4 94 6901 18)
While in Carini we went to many places: The star for us was SEGESTA.
I discovered SEGESTA while still at home, on one of my trollings through the Internet. It is a lonely temple that appears complete – unlike most of the number that cluster in and around Valle di Templi, further down the West side of the island, where all the tourist groups go.
I did not tell Graham of my find but noted it in my little book of ‘Things To See’.
SEGESTA – MY LITTLE SECRET
Now we were staying a forty-five minute drive away. I told Graham I would like to start the day driving along the E90 towards Trapani, an attractive seaside town. (We had pretty well ignored coasts in Italy. We did once try the famous Amalfi Coast, but concluded that it is always so choked with traffic you would see more if you took a coach trip along it.)
My husband was a bit mystified that we were taking the lower road. When I told him to turn onto the E933, which took us away from Trapani, he was even more so. But I had a good idea of what would meet our eyes.
Closer up
Closer still
SEGESTA – A GLEAM OF COLOUR
Before long the narrow road climbed a fairly steep hill on our right-hand side. Clumps of trees adorned it. Suddenly there was a gleam of colour appearing from a small spinney near the top.
It almost hid the less visited, but most spectacular ancient Greek temple. (Actually, it isn’t Greek – as we learned when we visited the centre. It was built probably in the 420’s BC. The Doric style suggests it was the work of an Athenian architect living in the area, in order to impress the Athenians, when an earlier civilisation – the Alymians – sought their aid.
And maybe that explains why we never learned of a dedication – to Athena, or any other god or goddess. Even so – it was a breathtaking sight.
We saw it first from the road. Suddenly, there it was! Graham was so thunderstruck by the sight that just for a second, he stopped our car on that lonely road. (See the feature image)
How immense
SEGESTATEMPLE – GASPINGLY IMPRESSIVE STILL
It stood shining out at us in its entirety, all alone on a wooded hill. Its apricot-coloured stone gleamed in the sun. It is a totally untouched, complete survivor. It is majestic.
Later, as we walked up to it, we appreciated its vastness. What an impressive work of art from 2,500 years ago…
Time eaten Stone of Segesta
JUST ONE REGRET
Our only regret later was that we had not on the way taken in a famous 12th century cathedral or church near Palermo. A visit that could easily have been made that day:
Monreale.
This Duomo boasts of containing the heart of St Louis (patron saint of France, (King Louis 9th, born 1214). It also (we learned later) has in the apse a mosaic icon of an even earlier saint – St Thomas a Becket of England. It is said to be the earliest holy image of him.
Monreale had been on my list. The city itself is said to be very beautiful, and overlooking Palermo. Regrettably, there simply wasn’t time to go to all the ‘special’ places that Sicilia offers.
