WHERE WAS I? Approaching Les Sables d'Olonne that's where. The newly acquired JBH volume is hidden away and we concentrate on getting into the town along the sea front as far as we can. Ayup! –there are lots of folk around… good grief, some are actually in the water. It is Saturday after all so I don't tut-tut much about France's perpetual half term regime, for once. We park on a meter and beetle back onto the sea front to take the air. It is actually really rather bracing but in a slightly more refined manner than Skeggy. Here is what we see from the shore:
Further round we can see La Tour d'Arundel which is where the Vendée (round the world single handed yacht jolly) officially starts and ends. Guess what? There is a rendition of the La Tour in Des Course et des Phares! Not JBH's best (not an elevation, sadly) but it gives you the idea . . . not sure why it looks a bit like a boat from a different era, but artistic licence may have come into play here…
That is quite enough about the phares of fair Les Sables. However, you are invited to refresh on Les Sables d'Olonne (phares) by re-reading my seminal post on the subject in the legendary phares sighted blog… I just know you want to, so click on this link!
While we on the Sables d'Olonne side of the harbour I continue my stroll along Le Remblai, aka the seafront (Adam and his mother are off to spot another war memorial… I just can't understand where he gets these obsessions from, I really can't) away from the ubiquitous holiday flats that blight most popular resorts in France these days, and admire the more stimulating architecture surviving from when places like this seafront were the reserve of yer middle and upper classes, the only folk then who had the time and money to have seaside holidays and build villas to do so in. My montage herewith can only give a slight impression of what there is to find… Along this stretch of sea front are on display excellent pencil drawn elevations of these fine buildings including those that have been lost through mishap, and vandalism of both the entrepreneurial and municipal sort. That is one of them, above, envisioned by the architect called David Bizeul, but somewhat faded in the summer's sun I think. They may have been coloured originally.
We reconvene, then motor round to the Chaume side of the harbour (quieter this side of the river) so that Adam can get a quick look at the St Nicolas jetty, then ditto with Armandèche lighthouse (good lad!), before we get back on the road north, stopping only at St Brevin, by special request, to eat our crisps and odd bits and pieces we have, having failed to secure other victuals this time. Before crossing the Loire this is, where France sort of ends… well it doesn't but sometimes feels as though it does. I note that the view out to Phare de Charpentier is now compromised somewhat by the shadowy presences of France's recently installed floating turbines. You can just make them out… a sign of the times…
But from this point today, no further snaps I am afraid. Hotel at Vannes found relatively easily but the rain is back. After nightfall we drive down into town returning to eat at a crêperie we've frequented before, down by the harbour. First into the place and then first out, good. Very dark in Vannes and it's raining again. Some madness trying to get out of the underground car park après, groping our way back out in variably lit streets; I am glad to get back to our billet (the widest bed I may have ever slept in). Shower, book, bed. The rain is lashing…
