A night in the Alsace

During our 2007 and 2008 annual autumn break in the French Alsace, we stayed at ‘Le Clos de La Garenne’ on the outskirts of the town of Saverne. It’s a lovely hotel built in the typical ‘chalet’-like regional style. It has only 15 bedrooms and is run by a charming couple with three small children. The husband, who’s a nephew of the Michelin-star holding restaurant ‘Le Soldat de l’An 2’ in the nearby town of Phalsbourg, is a very talented chef too.

September 2007: Clos de la Garenne, Saverne

On both occasions we had booked a room called ‘Forêt Noire’ (Black forest) located in a small outer building that accommodated only two rooms. It was a beautiful and very comfortable room, with rough wooden panelling and a large flat screen TV. The bathroom had a bath tub as well as a gigantic walk-in shower with a powerful shower head.

On our first night at the hotel in 2007 the room next door was occupied by three young people who were attending an international fair in the nearby city of Strasbourg. We had gone to bed around 11 p.m. after a delicious dinner prepared by the young chef.

My friend, who’s very fond of roasted pigeon, had ordered a ‘Pigeon Voyageur’ (A Roaming or Travelling Pigeon). It was served in the most original way, as it was brought to the table in a large brown envelope with the name of our room written on it. It was even stamped. The chef himself cut open the envelope using a large pair of scissors. Inside was the roasted pigeon, steaming hot and vacuum packed, floating in a rich dark brown sauce. I had a generous slice of pan-fried goose liver which was served on a piece of slate. With it came delicately roasted potatoes and a crisp green salad with slices of black truffle. We topped of our meal with a varied choice of cheeses from the impressive cheese platter.

By two in the morning we were awoken by our neighbours who came in from an apparently wild ‘night on the town’. They were pretty drunk and laughed and babbled till four, when they finally quieted down and went to sleep. At breakfast we told the landlady about the nightly bacchanal and she promised she would urge our young neighbours to be less noisy the following night.

Which they did … but then we were awoken by another noise … something we couldn’t identify …

(to be continued)

_____

Long-time friends

During this year’s Loire Valley trip I will drop in on some long-time friends who live in a small village near Chenonceaux. I’ve known them since 1985 and have seen them on only five or six previous occasions. And although we often don’t see or even hear each other for two or three consecutive years, we easily bond again when we actually do meet up.

2009: More motorway art. Notice that the castle is called 'Chenonceau' ,
without an 'x' at the end, while the village is written 'Chenonceaux' (with an 'x').

The circumstances in which we initially met were rather unusual. It was in May 1985 on a plane to Tunis (Tunisia). Eighteen months earlier my husband had been killed in a car accident, and it was my very first vacation on my own. My cousin I. and her friend D. were spending a fortnight in Sidi-Bou-Said on the northern coast of Tunisia and we had agreed that I would join them for a short holiday of five days, leaving them enough time to be on their own as a couple.

On the plane I found myself in an aisle seat, next to an elegant fair-haired Frenchwoman and her husband. We somehow started chatting and pretty soon found out that – in spite of our ten year’s age difference – we had something in common. Like me, she had lost her first husband in a car crash. Unlike me, she had been in the car too, with her two small children. She had been very badly wounded but had survived and so had her kids. She had remarried and lived with her second husband and her and his children from an earlier marriage in Caen, Normandy.

Apparently it was cheaper to drive to Brussels and take a Sabena plane to Tunis, than to go Paris and catch an Air France flight. Although they weren’t staying in the same hotel as my cousin’s, we decided to meet up for drinks one night before I returned to Belgium. We spent a very pleasant evening together and exchanged addresses and telephone numbers.

The next year, they returned to Tunisia flying from Brussels. They made a stop-over and I took them on a short sightseeing tour of the city. In the evening I invited them to a nice restaurant in my village. Once again it was fun! Some years later, on one of our Normandy trips, my friend and I visited them at their home in Caen. And then we somehow lost contact.

In December 1999 heavy storms raged over France, leaving big parts of the country without power for days on end and causing many casualties. One of the areas that were badly touched by the storm was Normandy. When I tried to call my friends in Caen to find out if they were okay, I always got the message that the number I had dialled no longer existed. I feared the worst!

On New Year’s Eve 2000, shortly after midnight, my phone rang. I thought it was my former sister-in-law who called to wish me a Happy New Year. I couldn’t have been more wrong. To my surprise it was my French friend. She apologized for ‘neglecting’ me for so long and explained that they had moved from Caen in the summer of 1999. And that they were now living in the Loire Valley at a stone’s throw of the famous castle of Chenonceau. Having lost her address book in the move, she hadn’t been able to contact me. Only recently, she had accidentally found the book in a unpacked box.

We immediately agreed to go and see them during our annual June stay in the Touraine. They own a large 19th century house with a vast garden and a lovely outdoor terrace. We’ve been there twice. The last time was in 2005. This year, while my friends B. and J.L. will be visiting the castles of Chenonceau and Montpoupon, I’ll go and have lunch with my French friends at the ‘Au Bon Laboureur’ restaurant in Chenonceaux. It’ll be nice to see them again and to catch up on the news about their children and grandchildren.

______

The Sound of Music

One of the extra joys of travelling in France is the music. As soon as we’ve crossed the Belgian-French border we always tune in on Radio Nostalgie France.* They broadcast the best music ever. To us ‘mediors’, that means music from the sixties-seventies-eighties.

I like to call this 'motorway art'.
Could it be a radio arial in disguise?

You don’t know what a ‘medior’ is? It’s the new fancy, non-offensive word for a person between 45 and 70. Only recently 45+ were considered as ‘senior’ citizens, until most people of that age group objected that they could not be compared to 70+ citizens. Then some marketing gurus came up with another fashionable word: affluent people … until some 45+ protested saying that they still had children at university and mortgages weighing heavy on their monthly budget and that were anything but ‘affluent’ … and certainly no ‘milk cows’.

Marketing people being very resourceful came up with a new word: ‘medior’, a kind of ‘hybrid’ between junior and senior.

To get back to my initial subject: being ‘mediors’ we like to listen to http://www.nostalgie.fr/ when being in France. Click on the link and discover for yourself how great this station is! Apart from the great French classics, the station broadcasts a large number of international hits, ranging from the Beatles and ABBA, to the Beach Boys, the Monkeys, the Mamas and the Papas, Bruce Springsteen and many others …

There is an anecdote attached to this story … of course. Some years ago, during our annual June vacation in France, the station had planned a Sunday-special on Johnny Halliday to celebrate the artist's X-birthday. I say ‘X’, as not being a Halliday fan, I don’t have the faintest idea about the age the guy has! I like some of his earlier songs though and don’t mind listening to them when they occasionally turn up on the radio. My friend, however, just can’t stand the man.

So when I learned that Nostalgie had planned this special on the exact day that we would spend 5 hours in the car to get to Amboise, I suggested we'd both put a bet on how many of Johnny’s songs would be put on the air between the French border and the town of Amboise. He accepted the challenge and we wrote down our bet: I said 17, he said 22!

Can you guess who won?

(*) I'd love to give you the direct link to the listening page, but in respect of what I was thaught at my recent 'Digital Bootcamp', I'm legally not allowed to put 'deep links' to other sites without their approval. So if you want to enjoy Radio Nostalgie France, click on the above link, then click 'radio' > 'ma nostalgie' > 'écoutez' ... Good luck!

_____

Look-alike

The other day one of my blogfriends mentioned in her comment the restaurant ‘La Ridelloise’ in Azay-le-Rideau. And that reminded me of a funny event that took place in this restaurant during our 2002 Loire Valley trip.

June 2002 was definitely our worst holiday – weather-wise I mean. Lunch-time picnics were always a risky business because of the threatening rain clouds that had the nasty habit of moving in just when we were about to unpack our picnic hamper. We therefore mostly ate in little village restaurants like ‘La Lanterne’ in Huismes. I’ve already written a post about that lunch here.

June 2006: The pocket-size castle of Azay-le-Rideau

That same week we visited Azay-le-Rideau. We had been walking around for a while checking out the town’s restaurants. During our walk we had twice run into two local well-dressed businessmen. On the first occasion, one of them had politely said ‘bonjour’. Some ten minutes later we ran into them again. This time the man smiled broadly and said “There you are again.” We were slightly puzzled by his remark as it somehow indicated that the man, who was a complete stranger to us, thought he knew us.

After having examined the menu cards of the ‘Grand Monarch’, ‘L’Aigle d’Or’ and ‘La Ridelloise’, we decided to have lunch at ‘La Ridelloise’. The restaurant was already very busy when we arrived and there were only two empty tables left. We took off our wet coats and ordered an aperitif. While we were studying the menu card, the door opened and the two men we had met in the street came in. The waiter guided them to the last empty table which was situated right across from were we were sitting. When ‘Mr. Nice-guy’ -the man who had twice said hello in the street - saw us, he started to laugh and in a low voice said something to his friend. The latter stealthfuly glanced over his shoulder to look at us.

All through the meal I had the feeling we were being watched. And each time I looked up from my plate, ‘Mr. Nice-guy’ boldly stared back at me and next whispered something to his friend. At first we felt ill at ease, but in the end we decided to ignore the whole situation and just enjoy our meal. I can’t remember what we had, but I know it was very good.

The two businessmen finished their meal before us. They were obviously in a hurry to get back to the office. They paid their bill, put on their coats and were walking towards the door, when ‘Mr. Nice-guy’, suddenly turned round and walked towards our table. We both looked up, curious to know what he wanted. And then, to our complete surprise, the slapped my friend on the back and beamed: ‘Don’t worry old man, I won’t tell your wife!”. Then he turned towards me, gave me a wink and said: “Nice meeting you!” He dashed off, leaving us completely flabbergasted!

This was clearly a case of mistaken identity. My friend probably had a look-alike in Azay-le-Rideau who was married and who was an acquaintance of the man we had just met.

I wonder whether he ever confronted his friend with the fact that he had seen him ‘with another woman’. And hopefully he kept his promise and never told the poor man’s wife of her husband’s fake illicit ‘affaire’.

_____

Silent Wednesday

A picturesque and sunny photo to put you in a spring mood!

(2009: Habay-la-Neuve - Belgium)

_____

The rabbit and the salad

If you’re familiar with the town of Amboise, you’ll know that there is a large free carpark called the ‘Parking du Château’ when you drive up past the castle to the rue Victor Hugo. This ‘rue’ quickly becomes a on-way street and you have no other choice than to turn right into a one-way alley. At the end of this alley you can either drive straight on to the Place Richelieu or you can turn left, following a little stream. You’ll find the carpark at the end of this road. It’s a bit out of the way, but nevertheless always very full when we arrive on Sunday morning; Sunday being the weekly market day in Amboise.

Over the years we’ve parked our car there on many occasions. So we were quite familiar with the restaurant that’s on the other side of the little stream. It’s called ‘L’Ecluse’, probably because there is a tiny lock on the stream. I have no idea what it was used for as the stream will only allow the passage of miniature boats!

The restaurant looked a bit shabby and not really worth your while … until 2008. Once again the internet had provided me with some positive reviews, insisting on the fact that it was a fine place for a decent snack and even something more … Especially since it had changed hands and had been done up by the new owners.

On the last day of our 2008 stay and four consecutive days of delicious Touraine meals we thought that an honest snack would take us through the rest of the day. We ventured into ‘L’Ecluse’ and were pleasantly surprised by the simple and sunny interior. I admit that it was somewhat kitschy (with some fake palm trees – ouch!) and the room was rather large with very bad acoustics (especially as there was a noisy group of some twelve people already sipping aperitifs) … In spite of these obvious inconveniences we liked the place. Outside it was windy and you could feel that it would rain pretty soon. The yellow-orangey walls and bright green place mats therefore looked very inviting.

Our waitress was cute and friendly and it didn’t take a lot to make her laugh … something my friend is very good at. I ordered a plain omelette and my friend took the daily special: rabbit stew with peaches. While waiting for our meal, the landlord came to take the wine order. I suppose I no longer need to tell you what it was … (S.C. of course).

Rabbit with peaches

When the plates arrived we were surprised by the sheer size of them. And I do mean the amount of food that was on them and not just the size of the actual plate. My omelette was made with at least three eggs (if not four) and came with a green salad that must have been made using at least 2/3 of a lettuce plant, and my friend got a whole rabbit’s ‘râble’ (back) cut into several generous portions. The food was great. The omelette was perfectly cooked, slightly ‘baveuse’, the salad nice and crispy and the vinaigrette spicy and delicate at the same time. The rabbit and peaches, as well as the rich brown sauce were sublime.

My omelette

However … I’m not really a ‘salad person’. I should eat more veggies, I know, but the large quantities of greens seem to remain stuck in my throat. I therefore left more than half of my salad. When the landlord came to remove the (almost) empty plates, the looked slightly offended. “You didn’t eat your salad.” he said. I felt somewhat ill at ease, because I had really liked the meal. Not knowing what to say, I looked at my friends empty plate. “He ate the rabbit,” I said “So there was no one left to eat the salad!”. The landlord looked at me in surprise and then he burst out laughing: “You Belgians! You really have a very peculiar sense of humour”! (And he meant it as a compliment!)

_____

Looking back and ahead

Writing about our travels is a bit like looking in a rear-view mirror. You are so busy with what is behind you that you almost forget to look ahead!

2008: What I like to call my 'artistic creation'.

Just yesterday I became aware of the fact that in seven weeks time I will be travelling to the Loire Valley with two friends who’ve never been there and who expect me to be their guide! I’m honoured, of course, but a bit nervous too. Especially as my friend won't be there to give me the necessary moral and emotional support.

In order to prepare our trip, I’ve sent them a thematic list of things to see and do, asking them to indicate their preferences. And this is the result and the way I will try to fill them in:

Open air markets: Amboise, Bourgeuil, Chinon

Lesser known castles: Troussay, Villesavin, Fougères-sur-Bièvre

Homes of historic figures: Clos Lucé (Da Vinci) and Saché (Balzac)

Unusual museums: Maurice Dufresnes in Azay-le-Rideau

Walks in the country: Candes Saint Martin, Crissay-sur-Manse

Cities: Tours

Parks and gardens: Valmer, Villandry

Classic châteaux: Chenonceaux, Amboise, Valençay

Boat cruise on the Loire: Saint Martin de Tours at Rochecorbon

Wine tasting: Vouvray and Saumur-Champigny

I’ve visited most of these places over the last eleven years, but I don’t mind returning there. And of course I’m curious myself to visit Troussay, Villesavin and Valmer. If you’re a keen Loire Valley visitor you may have some more ideas for me.

I’ll try to build up the program in such a way that I also have some time to drop in on some local friends while my travelling companions visit a site that I’ve seen too many times or isn’t worth a second visit. To them everything will be new, so I don’t think they’ll have the time to get bored. We only have four full days ‘sur place’. Far too short to show them everything I’ve discovered in more than a decade!

_____

Sunday lunch with a Loire Valley touch

For more than a decade our village only had one bakery, although I remember there being five when I was a child. And then, three years ago, a young baker re-opened the oldest bakery of the village after transforming the store into a stylish modern-looking shop. The old wood-oven in the workshop was restored as well.

This young baker used to be an airline pilot until one day he knew that he wanted to do something else with his life. He went to France where he trained as a baker in various parts of the country. The result: a vast assortment of delicious bread ranging from your everyday household loaf to special baguettes and multi-cereals specialties with olive oil, slices of salami, olives, dried tomatoes, red wine, etc.

Imagine my surprise when yesterday I saw this on the counter, labelled as…

…. Loire Valley baguette!

I bought one, of course! I’ll serve it today with one our favourite Sunday lunches: juicy grilled entrecote steak, béarnaise sauce and French fries. I used to make the béarnaise myself, but nowadays I buy it ready-made. It comes in a metal bag and you just pour it in a sauce pan and heat it up slowly. It’s almost as good as the home-made thing and at least you’re sure of the result. Béarnaise is very tricky to make and very often you end up with a lumpy and greasy consistence … not very appetizing!

Time to get to the kitchen and get this meal together!

_____

Tale of two pigeons

During our Loire Valley trip in 2008 I shot these two similar photos.

Seen in Angles-sur-Anglin

Seen in Vouvray

There is one fundamental difference. Can you tell what it is?

_____

Always stick to your first idea …

… a wise lesson my mother told me in the early sixties when I was in first grade at our local primary school. I had just received my monthly school report and the marks for geography showed a disappointing 9 out of 10. Disappointing yes, because I usually got a straight 10 out of 10 (I just loved geography! I won’t tell you how I did on maths, as I hated those).When my mother asked me what had happened, I told her that I had hesitated on one question. After giving it some extra thought, I had erased my initial answer and had replaced it by something else … Afterwards it turned out that my first answer had been the correct one. Hence my mother’s wise advice: “Always stick to you first idea.”

And this is exactly what we should have done that day in March 2009 when we decided to forget about the ‘Quai 5-7’ restaurant in Dieppe and follow the barkeeper’s advice.

March 2009: The quay of Dieppe harbour lined with restaurants.
Notice the clear blue sky!

Following his recommendations, we walked into the nearby ‘Tout va Bien’. The place, although very large, was crowded and extremely busy. This was definitely a good sign, or so we thought. When we asked the waiter for a table for two, he desperately looked around. At that precise moment, a couple by the window got up and put on their coats. The waiter quickly guided us to the now empty table. He diligently removed the empty coffee cups and replaced them by new cutlery and glasses. Next he handed us each a menu card and bustled off to another table where people were calling for his attention.

Having seen some fresh Dover sole on the quay during our little exploratory walk earlier that day, my friend immediately decided to order his favourite dish ‘Sole Meunière’ (Miller’s wife style sole: sole lightly dusted with flour and fried in a lot of sizzling hot butter until golden brown).I had a tartar of beef (raw minced beef, flavoured with an egg yolk, capers, chopped onion and parsley, Worchester sauce, Tabasco, pepper and salt).

Whilst waiting for our order, we tried to catch glimpses of the content of the plates that were delivered to the other tables. All in all it looked very promising. And then came the sole! Instead of golden brown, it had a fade greyish-green colour. From the head – which is usually removed before frying the fish – a blank white eye stared into our faces. The side-fins had not been cut off and the dark top and white belly skin were still there, covered in a sticky and cloddy crust of hardly fried flour. When my friend removed the unappetizing skin and lifted the first fillet from the bone, he saw that the fish had not even been gutted! The only positive thing that could be said for it was that is was very fresh!

To make a long story short, my tartar was okay but not exceptional and we both left about 1/3 of our meal. We washed it down with a bottle of white Sauvignon wine and ordered a dessert, something we rarely do. We had a ‘trou Normand’, an apple sorbet drowned in a generous splash of Calvados. This somewhat made up for the lousy food.

Leaving the restaurant we walked back to our car which was parked near the ‘Quai 5-7’ restaurant. Just when we passed the door, three people came out and the delicious smell of freshly cooked mussels and French fries floated towards us. Inside we heard the happy clinging of glasses and cutlery.

The moral of this story? Always listen to your mother and stick to your first idea!

______

About to crumble

This time last year we set out for our first visit to la ‘Haute Normandie’. As you may recall, we returned to the same place in November 2009.

One of the main reasons why I wanted to go there, were the ‘Falaises d’Etretat’ (the cliffs of Etretat). Some years ago a colleague of mine had read somewhere that, because of the increasing pollution and the severe erosion caused by the constant beating of the sea wind and water, the future of the unusually shaped cliffs was in peril. Some scientists even predicted that in fifty years the cliffs would collapse, depriving the Normandy coast and the village of Etretat of its main tourist attraction. Although I don’t expect being around in fifty years, I really wanted to see these cliffs before they collapse into the sea.

March 2009: Etretat - 'L'éléphant' (the elephant), one of the two
famous cliffs. It looks like the head of the elephant sticking out
of the rock, putting his trunk into the sea ...

We left Brussels fairly early one Thursday morning with the intention to stop on the way in a village called Villers-Bretonneux, East of Amiens, to have breakfast. At the end of WWI, the village in the Somme department was liberated on April 25th, 1918 by Australian and Commonwealth troops. It was pure coincidence that this heroic event coincided with Anzac Day. Today Villers-Bretonneux has become a ‘piece of Australia in Picardie’

The village is located smack on the A29 motorway and is marked by a small rest stop and gas station selling pre-packed sandwiches. We had lost quite a bit of time in a gigantic traffic jam caused by a large lorry lying on its side, blocking one of the motorway lanes. So when we finally arrived at Villers-Bretonneux it was almost 10 o’clock. As we wanted to get to Dieppe before noon, we decided to skip the planned visit of the village and the Australian war memorial and grabbed a fast snack at the rest stop.

By the time we reached Dieppe the sun was shining. We would be staying in a self-catering cottage near Saint Valéry-en-Caux, and therefore needed to do some shopping for our evening picnic: a baguette, three kinds of cheeses, some rilettes and a bottle of red wine. On the internet I had read several positive reviews about a restaurant called ‘Quai 5-7’ facing the port of Dieppe and I really wanted to try it. When we went to check it out, we were slightly disappointed by the overall look of it. Moreover, although it was well past twelve o’clock, there were no patrons inside and the two waiters were idly standing around.

The weather being sunny and reasonable warm, we decided to have an aperitif on the terrace of a nearby bar. If you’ve ever been to Dieppe, you know that the quays are lined with restaurants. Contrarily to the ‘Quai 5-7’, they were all rather busy, which worried us even more … Sitting in the early spring sun sipping our aperitif, we asked the landlord of the little bar if he could recommend a restaurant. When I mentioned ‘Quai 5-7’ he just shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never been there myself”, he replied. He suggested the ‘Tout va Bien’ (All’s well) just two restaurants further up the quay.

When we had finished our drinks, we returned to my first choice, to see if in the meantime any patrons had shown up. As the place still looked rather empty we thought it wiser to follow the barkeeper’s advice and have lunch at the ‘Tout va Bien’.

(to be continued)

_____

Silent Wednesday

2008: A tantalizing plate of fried frog's legs with garlic butter
and pasta ... souvenir of a delicous meal at the
'Mange-Grenouille' (the Frog Eater) in Saint-Aignan.

Tempted anyone?

_____

Cycling ... or almost

The banks of the Loire and its tributaries offer great cycling possibilities. However, be prepared to tackle some steep climbs once you’re leaving the valleys to explore the surrounding countryside. In Flemish we call these steep climbs ‘kuitenbijter’. This is a contraction if the word ‘kuit’, meaning ‘calf’, like the lower hind part of you leg, and ‘bijter’, meaning ‘someone who bites’. I’m sure there must be a similar word in English other than the literal translation ‘calf-biter’.

Over the years we’ve seen many cyclist cruising the Loire Valley’s country roads. On flat terrain, they usually move in large groups at a steady pace. On hilly roads, the groups automatically split up in small ones, with the most ardent and trained cyclists leading the way. In the worst case scenario the weakest riders are stumbling along, on foot pushing their bikes uphill, some two or three kilometres behind the leaders. I always feel sorry for these poor souls, as you can tell that they are not really used to riding a bike and have been talked into this ordeal by their weathered friends.

I think it is very unwise to start out on such a journey if you’re not used to cycling or of if you’re lacking the necessary physical training. Over the years, we’ve only made one attempt to cycle along a river path. It was in 2006 after visiting the Château de Nitray, located in Saint Martin-Le-Beau halfway between Amboise and Chenonceau. I had read on the castle’s website that the owners provided free bikes to visitors who, at the end of the tour and wine tasting, felt like peddling along the banks of the nearby Cher River.

2006: 'Pigeonnier' at the Château de Nitray.
Three dummies ... or just two?

Arriving at the Château, we were greeted by a young student who had been hired to collect the entrance fee and to hand over a leaflet explaining the history and main features of the castle. We were informed that the tour didn’t include a visit of the interior, but that we were free to explore the chapel and the ‘pigeonnier’ (round building housing the dove tills). As the next wine tasting session, which was to be hosted by the lord of the castle himself, was scheduled at four o’clock, we had ample time to have a look around. We were also invited to use the bikes that were stalled in the courtyard … which we did or at least tried!

Not being an outdoor person, I hadn’t ridden a bike in 30 years or so and I immediately felt ill at ease. All the available bikes were of the mountainbike type, with the handlebars pointing downwards. The saddle was hard and uncomfortable. But you know what they say: “You never forget how to ride a bike.” I therefore mustered all courage and set out on my heroic journey. My friend rode ahead of me. With the handlebars pointing downwards, I had the funny feeling of sitting with my nose on the front wheel.

After ten minutes I had enough of it. I felt too uneasy to really enjoy the landscape. In fact, I hardly saw it as the dust road was rather bumpy and I kept looking downwards, trying to avoid the many potholes. I stopped and called my friend who was already well ahead of me, further down the road. He turned round, worried.

When I told him that I was too insecure to continue and that I was afraid I would fall, he agreed that we’d walk back to the castle. We were just in time for the wine tasting. This somewhat steadied my nerves and quickly made me forget about my wobbly cycling adventure.

Do you feel like taking a bike ride along the Cher River? Just drop in at the Château de Nitray as it has lots to offer: culture, wine and sports!

_____

Yet another affordable place to eat

Weather-wise our Loire Valley trips have always lived up to our expectations, except perhaps once, in June 2002. Usually the weather pattern goes like follows: we arrive on a blistering hot Sunday, overnight we get a gigantic thunderstorm and on Monday morning the air is chilly and the sky overcast. By 3 p.m. the sun breaks through. From then on, the weather gets hotter and sunnier by the hour, until Thursday afternoon, when the clouds move in again. By evening, it is too cold to sit outside after dinner and when we get up on Friday morning, a light drizzle is falling. This makes the parting a lot easier and our return journey is very often a race against the clouds with us speeding up north, trying to keep well ahead of them!

2002 was different though. Sunday was as usual. Monday was more or less okay, except that the weather never cleared up completely and the temperatures hardly climbed over 20°C. There were some sunny spells, but when I look at the photos I shot that year, we’re always wearing long-sleeved sweatshirt or even an extra jacket. I can’t remember us picnicking and in fact I only found one photo of me by a picnic table on the banks of the Loire River North of Chinon.

2002: The Ussé château on a cloudy June day.

On Thursday we visited the weekly Chinon market in the morning and, as it wasn’t raining, bought a baguette, some goat’s cheese and twelve large cooked prawns for our picnic. We found a picnic spot and started to unpack our hamper when gusts of cold River wind suddenly hit us in the face. Shivering with cold we decided to sit it out, the time to eat our lovely fresh prawns, after which we packed up our things again and started looking for a little restaurant to have a meal in order to get warm again. Halfway between Chinon and Ussé, in the village of Huismes, we came across a nice country ‘auberge’, called ‘Auberge de la Lanterne’. It looked cosy, inviting and, above all, nice and warm inside.

When we walked in a few patrons were drinking at the bar and there were two tables with people having the daily special. We got a small table close to the chimney where a gas burner was spreading a lovely warm glow into the room. We settled down and asked for the daily special. I can’t remember what it was, but am quite sure that it wasn’t to our liking as we both ordered a main course from the menu, having had out prawns as starters.

My friend had an extremely tender ‘Coq au vin de Chinon’ and I had a juicy leg of rabbit with mixed vegetables and a light mustard sauce. We drank a robust Chinon with it and topped of our meal with some goat’s cheese and a small coffee.

The best place to judge a restaurant is the state of the ‘sanitary facilities’. In this case they were extremely small and narrow. A big person would have had a lot of difficulties getting in and out of them, but they we unusually clean and fresh … which is a lot more than what can be said for a lot of places in France …

If I had to rate the ‘Lanterne’, I would give it a 7/10 for food and 8/10 for service and cleanness. It’s eight years ago and I don’t know if the light in the ‘Lanterne’ is still glowing, but at the time, it was certainly a very pleasant experience. If ever you go there, don’t expect ‘grande cuisine’, but a simple, honest and well prepared meal at a very affordable price.

_____

Relaxing

Compared to last week’s Friday, which was rather hectic, with an early morning angry phone call to the insurance company, the unexpected visit of and Italian pizza lunch with my former colleague B. and her husband J.L. and the evening chat and glass of wine with my upstairs neighbour concerning the humidity problem, this week’s Friday could be described as rather dull. However …

I spent the best part of the day on my own. I slept late and had a fruity breakfast. I spent the rest of the morning reading my favourite blogs, posting answers to yesterdays’ comments on my own blog (it’s always great to read you!). I wrote some ‘administrative’ e-mails (also about my insurance and humidity problems). At half past eleven I dropped in at my mother’s to have an aperitif with her and to pick up my laundry. It was almost one o’clock when I got home and I was beginning to feel a bit hungry. So I improvised another tortilla lunch.

Another improvised tortilla lunch.

These are the ingredients:

- a corn tortilla (I was lucky to get these as our Carrefour supermarket usually only carries the flour version)
- a small tin of yellow fin tuna in olive oil (dolphin friendly fished)
- two finely chopped spring onions
- a generous tablespoon of mayonnaise
- a generous coffee spoon of mild paprika powder
- a bag of mixed young salad leaves (green and red oak leaves, rocket and fresh young spinach)

These little bags of mixed leaves are rather expensive, but to get the same mixture for one person, I need to buy an awful lot of salad and I usually end up throwing a lot of it away as I just don’t have the occasion to eat it while it’s fresh. I therefore think that these small one portion bags are an excellent alternative for people who live on their own.

This is what I did:

The tuna tortilla, just before folding it.

I put the drained and shredded tuna and the chopped spring onions in a bowl. Next I added the paprika and the mayonnaise. Then I gave it a good stir until all the ingredients blended together. I the meanwhile I warmed up the tortilla in a stick-proof pan. I put the warm tortilla on a plate, added the mixed salad and topped it with the tuna mixture. I folded the tortilla in two, and enjoyed this slightly spicy and tasteful snack with a cooled glass of our favourite Loire wine: a red Saumur Champigny.

I spent the rest of the afternoon ironing the laundry that I had picked up that morning at my mother's.

Did I feel lonely? Not at all! It’s good and nice to have some peace and quiet when you’re living a busy professional life. Sometimes you just need some time on your own to let go of the daily office and social stress. You can listen to your favourite music - in my case that would be ABBA - and sing out loud if you feel like it. You can wear your oldest but ‘oh so’ comfortable jeans and slippers or sneakers. And if you don’t have to go out, you can even do without the daily make-up. That way, your skin gets a break too!

Do you recognize this feeling?

_____

River cruise

Last weekend we’ve fixed the dates for our annual trip to the Loire Valley. Exceptionally we’ll be travelling in the second half of May. This leaves me another two months or so to prepare our trip.

We will be staying at our usual chambres d’hôtes in Vouvray. The necessary bookings have already been made and confirmed by our hostess. We’ll be visiting some of our all-time favourite places: Candes St.Martin, of course, Crissay-sur-Manse, the markets of Amboise and Bourgeuil, a.o.
We’d also like to take a look at some lesser known Châteaux, such as Valmer, Troussay and Villesavin … considering that we’ve seen most of the great classics at least once!

For years we’ve been thinking about taking a short ‘Loire’ cruise. But we’ve never had the opportunity or the time to do so. This year, however, we will definitely try to realize this project. There are several possibilities. First of all there is the St. Martin de Tours which is moored at Rochecorbon, between Vouvray and Tours According to the information on the internet:

“The Saint-Martin-de-Tours is the only passenger boat in Touraine offering unique views of the limestone cliffs and troglodyte houses of Rochecorbon and the surrounding landscape declared World Heritage Beauty site by UNESCO (source: www.naviloire.com).

Photo: www.panoramio.com/photo/13373869

The cruise first takes you upstream for about half an hour. Near Vouvray and the Château de Montcontour the boat turns around and navigates downstream again to its mooring place in Rochecorbon. The whole trip takes about 50 minutes. Not long, I admit, but we Belgians are not a ‘sea faring nation’. So I don’t really feel the need for an extended all-afternoon cruise.

Moreover this ‘river cruise’ is one of the three sites in the Touraine region to have obtained the quality label ‘Qualité Tourisme TM’. The other sites are the Château of Villandry and the’ Vallée troglodytique des Goupillières (Azay-le-Rideau). To know the criteria which are required to obtain this label, check out the website of ‘Qualité Tourisme TM’ of the French government.

Another option is a cruise on the Cher River, from Chisseaux to the castle of Chenonceau. The boat makes his way through several locks and passes under the archways of Chenonceau castle. The view of the Château from the water is said to be breathtaking and unique.

There are other possibilities with boats leaving from Amboise and Candes St. Martin, but I haven’t had the time to look into them more closely. Maybe you have already taken one or several of these cruises? If so, I’m curious to know your impressions and recommendations.

______

A losing battle?

Last autumn I posted about a ‘rising damp’ problem in my living room. In fact it is ‘descending damp’ as it manifests itself by a large blubbery stain on the ceiling and two dark spots on the wall just beside it. The blubbery stain and dark spots have grown considerably since then … and I can’t do anything about it!

Sorry for posting such an ugly picture! And it's getting worse every day!

You may recall that I got in the janitor, the insurance people, a decorator, my upstairs and next door neighbours. Since then I’ve also had the visit of a leak expert, who up till now has failed to find the origin of the leak. One thing is sure; it’s not in my apartment, so I’m not responsible for the damage. However, I’m responsible for keeping the apartment in tiptop condition, an obligation I can’t fulfil as long as the leak isn’t found and repaired.

The experts that were to come and look for the leak on December 18th, finally turned up on February 12th. They fussed around for a while with a special humidity detecting device and an infrared camera. They did the same in the apartment upstairs and then took three weeks to send their report to the insurance company, simply saying that they had found nothing!

Last Friday I was so fed up with the whole thing, that I called the insurance company. I gave the man a piece of my mind, reminding him that I had reported the problem in September 2009. I told him that I was sick and tired of looking at that ugly stain and that something had to be done rapidly. In his best ‘macho’ voice he accused me of being ‘frustrated’ (I bet he would not have said that to a man) and that he was going to look into it ‘calmly’. This upset me even more and I told him that I wanted to see some action NOW and that I wouldn’t rest until the matter was solved.

Later that evening I decided to drop in on my upstairs neighbour, who has damage to his living room wall on ground level, to suggest him to bundle our efforts to try and speed up the procedure. He agreed and sent an angry e-mail to the insurance guy, threatening him that he was going to start a legal procedure if the company failed to take its responsibility. It worked to the extend that on Monday we both got an e-mail announcing the visit of another leak detection company. This morning I got a phone call from this firm saying that they would send an expert on Friday, March 26th (another two weeks lost!). And we have no guarantee that this new company will succeed where the first one failed!

I’m wondering when we are going to see the end of this thing. I have the feeling I’m fighting a losing battle and I’m getting quite desperate as my living room is starting to look like a derelict. I’m ashamed to invite people to my home as it looks as if I’m negligent and that I’m not taking good care of the place. Moreover, whilst looking at some wallpaper to redecorate my mother’s kitchen, I found a very nice paper that would look great in my living room. It comes in two shades of ‘beige taupe’. I can’t imagine how they came up with the name as a ‘mole’ (taupe) is rarely beige … unless it’s an albino perhaps, and even then …!

I also have a quote from the decorator to fix and repainted the stained ceiling and to put up the new wallpaper. I therefore am anxious and ready to start the redecorating work, which I would like to be finished before summer. Maybe you have lived a similar experience and have some tips for me how to tackle this issue efficiently?

_____

Silent Wednesday

After two days of complete silence, here's the traditional 'Silent Wednesday' post.

I've been feeling a bit 'under the weather' after another public transport expedition into Brussels in freezing cold weather conditions and another full seminar day in an extremely hot and crowded room ... The ideal conditions for germs to do their business ...

October 2009: A  boar's head 'guarding'  the door of a house in Crupet.

If you want to know where Crupet is located
and see a nice photo of the local château,
click here.

_____

Meeting people – part two

In order to fully understand the gist of today’s post, it is advisable to read yesterday’s entry first.

In September 2008, three months after our annual stay in the Loire Valley, our office department was thoroughly reorganized. People from other departments were attached to ours and we welcomed several new colleagues in our midst.

Being an early bird, I usually get to the office by 7 a.m. One morning I shared the lift with a lady who looked vaguely familiar. We both got out on the same floor and she even followed me into our wing of the building. We said hello and wished each other a pleasant day. The same thing happened the next day, and the next.

On Monday we shared the same lift again and we started chatting. She told me that over the weekend she had attended a large family gathering in the Château de Beloeil. And so, for several days, every morning we shared a little more information about our lives and interests.

2008: Terrace of our chambre d'hôtes.

When I told her that I like travelling in France and that my favourite region is the Loire Valley, she rummaged through her handbag and produced a black and white leaflet. “In that case you should go and stay with my cousin who owns a Chambre d’hôtes near Loches.” She said handing me the leaflet. Although this sounded familiar, it didn’t immediately ring a bell. But, in the evening, when showing the leaflet to my friend, it was beginning to dawn on me. Could this colleague be related to the elderly couple we had met in June? Is that why she had looked familiar when I first met her some weeks before? I shared my ‘suspicion’ with my friend, who thought it to be very unlikely.

The best thing was to ask. So the next day, when she came to my desk for our daily morning chat, I said: ”Do you happen to have some relatives who live in ‘town X’ on the outskirts of Brussels?” She looked puzzled and intrigued. “Yes, why?” she enquired. So I explained about our meeting in June. Not knowing what her relationship with the couple was, I didn’t mention the gentleman making unpleasant remarks. “That sounds like my parents!” she said. Her next question took me by surprise. “Did my father behave himself?” Outch! That was awkward. I therefore changed the subject and asked whether her cousin who had a Chambre d’hôtes near Loches was called Mrs. P. “That’s her name, indeed.” she answered.

Once I knew her well enough, I gave her a ‘light’ version of what had happened that morning in June 2008. It didn’t really surprise her, as apparently her father is quite a character who has a bit of a reputation when it comes to making unpleasant remarks. When she told her parents about us meeting in June 2008, her mother more or less remembered us. Her father didn’t!

But guess what? Last autumn the father suddenly asked his daughter whether she would ask me if I knew a nice chamber d’hôtes or hotel in the region of Verdun. I recommended the 'Château de Jaulny' (I wrote a post about it called 'The other Joan of Arc') and they stayed there for two nights. They just loved it. Since then, I have been ‘officially’ appointed as their personal trip advisor.

_____

Meeting people – part one

When you travel, you meet a lot of interesting people. Yesterday I already told you about our brief meeting with Major John Howard, a D-Day hero. In the Alsace we ran into a former Belgian Prime Minister and in Tours we shook hands with the French actor Claude Brasseur. And then of course there are the ‘ordinary’ people, who often are just as interesting as or sometimes even more fascinating than these celebrities. It becomes even more intriguing when you meet somebody new who happens to be related to or knows somebody you know too.

This happened to us in 2008, the first time we spent an entire week in a Chambre d’hôtes. On arrival we noticed two other cars with Belgian license plates. Our hostess, a Finnish lady, confirmed that one of the cars belonged to an elderly Belgian couple. The other car was a rental and the people who drove it were Finnish.

2008: Carpark and breakfast room of our Chambre d'hôtes in Vouvray

The next morning at breakfast we met the other Belgian couple. It was not a very pleasant encounter as the man immediately started talking politics, something we like to avoid. At the time Belgium was going through a political crisis which was enhanced by some extremist politicians who wanted to exploit the cultural diffrences between the Flemish speaking part in the North and the French speaking part in the South to split up the country in two independant republics (Belgium is a monarchy!). But I won't bore you with the details ...

The husband, who was oblivious of the fact that I’m Flemish speaking, started to make some rude remarks about the Flemish. I tried to ignore them by changing the subject. His wife, who must have sensed that there was something wrong, joined me in my efforts to talk about the weather and sites to visit in the area. My friend, who’s normally very talkative, was unusually quiet and simply nodded or mumbled something from time to time.

We were relieved when breakfast was over and the couple got up to fetch their luggage from their room. While we finished our coffee and orange juice, we heard them chatting with our hostess. They explained that they were driving to a village near Loches where their cousin, Mrs. P., had a Chambre d’hôtes. They were to stay there for a couple of nights before returning to their hometown on the outskirt of Brussels. They returned to the breakfast room to shake hands with us and we parted as ‘friends’. Nevertheless, we were relieved that they had gone because, although the lady was very friendly and courteous, the husband was not someone I wanted to share my breakfast with every morning whilst on vacation.

End of story? No not really. The most amazing part is yet to come!

(to be continued)

_____

Meeting a War legend

Over the years we spent several vacations in Normandy. In the early days we mainly visited the Basse Normandie and the beaches where the Allied troops landed on D-Day, June 6th 1944, to liberate Western Europe from Nazi rule. Our first stay goes way back to 1984, when we stayed at the Lion d’Or hotel in Bayeux.

We returned to the region in 1992. As usual, we travelled in June. Our hotel was located in Bénouville, the first French village to be liberated in the early hours of June 6th in 1944. A gliderborne unit of the British 6th Airborne Division, commanded by Major John Howard had landed in the nearby fields.

‘Their mission was to seize the bridges over the Caen Canal in Bénouville and the Orne River in Ranville, to prevent their destruction and to hold them until relieved. The successful taking of the bridges played an important role in limiting the effectiveness of an enemy counter-attack in the days and weeks following the invasion (source: Wikipedia)’.

1992: Pegasus Bridge in Bénouville, Normandy.
I still have the picture postcard, but am not allowed to scan it
as the editorial rights belong to the Gondrée family.

Later the bridge over the Caen canal became known as the Pegasus Bridge, referring to the shoulder patch of the 6th Airborne depicting the mythical figure of Pegasus. Almost as famous as the Bridge is the first French house that was liberated on D-Day: the Café Gondrée, the local bar. Even today the bar still exists and is visited by tourists and war veterans.

We stayed at a hotel called ‘Le Manoir d’Hastings’ at a stone’s throw from the Pegasus Bridge. And this is where we met one of the legendary men of D-Day: the above mentioned MajorJohn Howard. One morning, when we arrived at the reception desk to hand in our key the girl behind the desk was talking to an elderly white-haired gentleman who wore a military beret with the Pegasus emblem on it. When I heard her calling the man Mr. Howard, I got out the postcard that I had prepared to send to my parents. As my father was a war veteran too, I thought it would be nice to have the card signed by Major Howard.

Timidly I approached the gentleman and asked him whether he would mind signing the card. He looked surprised. For a while I thought he was going to refuse. But then he smiled with glistening eyes. “Of course, I will sign your card” he beamed. With a firm hand, in spite of his great age (he was 82 at the time), he put his signature on the back of the picture postcard. I thanked him and wished him a pleasant stay.

Major Howard died in May 1999, 5 years after we had met him and almost 55 years after the heroic assault on the bridges. After my father passed away in 1997, my mother gave me the postcard as a souvenir. I still keep it at page 96 of the nineth edition of the famous novel  'The Longest Day' by Cornelius Ryan, after which the classic film with the same title was made starring a.o. John Wayne and Van Johsson. Why page 96? Because that's were Major Howard's exploits and those of his troops are described!

____

Trespassing!

During one of our early travels to Normandy in the early 90-ties, we only had a general Michelin road map covering the whole of France. Compared to today’s standards it was very rudimentary. And yet, in spite of these limited means of navigation, we hardly ever got lost. Except this one time.

We were driving around through the countryside and I was doing the map reading. My friend, who has a solid military background, has taught me how to do it and over the years I have become quite good at it. It was a nice and sunny day and we were looking for Balleroy castle. Maybe you know it or have visited it yourself. We had been following a ‘route Nationale’ (N) for a while when a signpost with the name of the château instructed us to turn right. The large ‘route Nationale’ became a ‘Départementale’ (D), which very soon turned into an even narrower ‘route Communale’ (C). Pretty soon it became a dust road that let us straight into the woods and fields.

The neatly trimmed and manicured gardens of Balleroy castle in Normandy.

By then we had lost track of our position on the road map and only had two options: to continue or to turn around and try to find our way back. The sides of the road being very muddy and unstable, we quickly discarded the second option … We had no idea of where we were and where the road was leading to. Finally we reached a kind of clearing in the woods and at a distance saw a large white villa and a line of stables.

We ventured on … realizing that we were probably trespassing. From the stables came the noise of neighing horses and the stamping of hooves. In the house nothing stirred. We stopped by the end of the driveway leading to the main house. A high wall with a wooden gate surrounded the whole property. There was no way of getting out of there, except by the gate.

We were just starting to panic, when a van towing a horse trailer rounded the corner of the stables and drove in the direction of the gate. My friend put the car into gear and slowly followed the van at a distance. It stopped by the gate and the driver got out. He typed a code on the small keyboard by the side of the gate. When he turned around to get back into his van, he noticed our car. He signalled and mouthed “Vous voulez sortir?” (you want to get out?). When we nodded ‘yes’, the guy signaled us to follow him. The gate opened automatically and we quickly did as instructed, before further questions were asked.

Apparently we had missed the turn to the château’s main entrance and had involuntarily ventured into its ‘haras’ (horse stables). This, however, was private property and definitely not open to the public. After this little incident, we easily found the entrance to the castle and spent a lovely time exploring the neatly trimmed and manicured gardens.

________