cordouan ticked off

If you are a fan of my Pharesighted blog you will have come across this post already, pretty much. I include it here for the uninitiated. You've been missing out though: pharesighed is top flight! Although I says so myself. 

IT IS APRIL 2026 and Mme Melling and self are relaxing in Royan at the southernmost point of our second spring jolly. No, not Ciboure, as projected elsewhere, we thought better of it in the light of rocketing fuel prices and possibly worse to come, but thought it wasn't too extreme to travel this far, albeit with five litres spare distillate in case fuel stations start running out.

To soften the blow of not going to the Spanish border, Mme Melling suggested booking a ferry out to Cordouan, it might be running. Sure enough, the weather is so good it looks like summer here in Royan and yes the boat is going and we secure seats on the 1230 sailing on Thursday 9 April (or at least Mme does, on our behalf). 

The boat indeed leaves at 1230, not quite full I think, and we ride on the top of it in glorious sunshine. We do the swop, after 40 minutes, to the shallow draught shuttle, a boat with wheels on the front to assist unloading, and which we've towed all the way from Royan. We are early enough tidewise to get taken right up to the steps of the edifice to disgorge, so no stroll across the exposed sands for us and no wet feet. The boat we left Royan on stands off in deeper water while the operative that works the shuttle takes a long kip (after the second load of punters have been fetched over) out of reach until such time as he is required to reverse the procedure, at the conclusion of our visit to the mighty Cordouan. 

Please find displayed, therefore, the results of this quest. Mme Melling is prompt upon arrival, as the other visitors assemble to receive the official intro and history in the ground floor chamber, she intimates that we'd best get climbing. She is right and furthermore no one else follows us as we rapidly proceed to the lantern, pausing (well I do) to marvel and record the interior spaces, and snatch some breath back, until all 301 steps have been achieved and we stand at last on the lantern balcony. Wow. Here is most of what we saw, and note the seeming absence of other visitors. That's how I like my phares……

So there you are, a brief guide to the principle spaces of France's oldest operational lighthouse.

The ground floor hall doesn't feature in this set as it was full of visitors, and the watch room, a panelled space under the lantern from which those final steps ascend into said lantern, well I failed to snap that as well, sorry. In fact those steps were recorded by Mme Melling (with kind permission) who also failed to capture a likeness of the watch room on level six. 

Just to give an idea of the view from up there on the tenth highest phare of France:

We leave, as we came, dryshod. The subsequent arrival, another flat bottomed shuttleboat from the Verdon-sur-Mer arrival, discharges its passengers a short distance from the crown entrance: they have to paddle. 

Cordouan: if you get the chance, don't delay, go right away. 

Thank you for your attention. Post number 63 In my sister blog 'pharesighted' describes Cordouan's history in some detail maybe you should have read that before perusing this post, that was the idea… oh well……