21st of July celebrations

As I mentioned before, on July 21^st Belgium celebrates its Fête Nationale. It’s the annual commemoration of King Leopold I taking the royal oath as first King of Belgium 181 years ago. Last year’s celebrations were overshadowed by the political crisis that left our country without a government for over 500 consecutive days. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but it wasn’t after the rating agency Standard and Poor’s had degraded our country and the Belgian credit rates climbed towards an alarming 6%, that the traditional political parties decided that it was time to act and form a government. 

Since then, a 50-year old and extremely tricky political issue has been solved and our credit rate had gone down to a level that puts us in the same range as strong countries like Germany, Denmark, etc … I’m not sure whether the other financial and budgetary measures the new government has taken will have a long term effect and how much they will cost us, the little ‘shrimps’ who work their ‘b..’ off every day. But at least we are out of the danger zone and national bankruptcy is no longer lurking around the corner.

Princess Mathilde, their eldest daughter Elisabeth - our first ever Queen and first in line after her father Prince Philip. This is Elisabeth first official mission: opening an new children's wing named after her in a hospital in Gent. (photo:beeldarchief.ugent.be)

Compared to last year, when our King delivered a very angry speech on TV, even banging his fist on the table on several occasions, we saw a very happy and smiling King. The man is 76 (I think) and has had several health problems in the last years, so last year’s excitement was something he could do without. The speech was shown on TV on Friday night and repeated on Saturday at 1 p.m. On Saturday morning the King, Queen, Prince Philip and his lovely wife, the Princess Mathilde and the dowager Queen Fabiola, widow to our former King Boudouin, attended a religious celebration at Brussels’ main cathedral. This celebration is called the ‘Te Deum’. Afterwards the royals come out to shake hands and exchange some small-talk with the waiting crowd.

The King’s daughter, Astrid – named after her grandmother, the beautiful Astrid of Sweden, who was killed in a car accident in Switzerland when our present King was only a toddler – and her husband attended a similar ceremony in the northern, Flemish speaking part of the country; while Laurent, the King’s youngest son and a bit of a rebel, attended a ceremony in the French speaking south. Last year Laurent was banned from the official ceremonies – and completely ignored by his parents for more than a year because of a controversial and politically incorrect trip to our former colony, Congo. However, this year he has been re-instated and in the afternoon arrived at the military parade with his wife Claire and their twin sons of five. They also have a daughter, who is slightly older, but who wasn’t present. The two boys looked very handsome in their grey flannel Bermuda trousers and blue blazers.  

While the parade was going on, there was a large popular feast and free entertainment going on in the park across the street from the Royal Palace. Police gather that over 300,000 people attended the festivities; 25,000 of which stayed on till 11 p.m. to watch the fireworks. 

While the party in the park was going on, a huge outdoor restaurant was set up at the Vossenplein (Fox square) in the popular ‘Marollen’ district. This really is the heart of Brussels where you’ll still find the true and ‘orginal’ ‘Brusseleir’, who speaks the authentic Brussels’ dialect which is an amazing mixture of French and Flemish, with a lot of funny and colourful expressions! It’s a rather poor district, but the people have an extraordinary ‘joie de vivre’ that you won't find in the ‘posher’ parts of Brussels. 

On the menu: our national dish by excellence – mussels and chips (like fish and chips but with juicy, mussels, cooked fisherman’s style). 150 poor and homeless received a free meal and judging from the images I saw on TV people were having a super time. Most of them had also attended the popular ball on Friday night and that had lasted well into the early hours of Saturday.

Seeing all these happy people – Flemish and French speaking – having a good time together and enjoying eachother’s company, I wonder what our politicians are playing at. They create resentment and even hate between the two populations. Life in Belgium is really, really good (when you compare it to so many countries around us). Okay, we pay the heaviest taxes in the whole of Europe, but we get a lot in return … except maybe warm and sunny weather. Although …

P.S. I hope you enjoyed this short lesson in Belgian royal history and traditions!

No chocolates ...

Maybe you didn't believe me when I wrote it, but I was really ready to mail a 'ballotin' of 370 gr. of Belgian chocolates to whoever found the answer to - I admit - a very difficult quiz question in Wednesday's post ...  Except for Mats and Vera, of course (sorry, dear friends), because we were there together in June.

As nobody came up with the right answer, I will have to eat the chocolates myself. But I'm sure my mother won't mind helping me, because she's a real chocoholic!

Maybe I should have added the above photo as a tip to Wednesday's post. I'm sure it would have helped you to find the spot we were looking for.

The photo was taken at the 2012 edition of the International Garden Festival at the 'Domaine de Chaumont-sur-Loire'. If my memory serves me right the clever design made of jam lids was part of garden number 5: "Le jardin psyché-délice". (Please correct me if I'm wrong).

We visited the festival on Thursday afternoon during our June trip. I'll be returning to my chronological report, taking us back to Tuesday's lunch and Wednesday's big social event soon. But I thought the quiz was a nice intermezzo while I was resting my weary eyes and fingers for a while after a hectic week at the office.

Regular service will resume presently ...


P.S. Today, July 21st, is Belgium's 'Fête Nationale'. If it had been a week day, we would have had the day off. The only difference with a normal Saturday is that all the shops are closed and that there is a military parade and a big party in the Warande Park in Brussels this afternoon. Tonight there are fireworks over the 'Monts des Arts' (The art hill) in Brussels.

Time for a little quiz

Being very busy at the office, I find it hard to write a complete blog post these days. By the time I get home, my eyes are in very bad need of a rest from the computer screen.

But I'm not letting you down; no way! So here's a little something 'to keep your little grey cells working' as the Belgian detective Hercules Poirot (Agatha Christie's brainchild) used to say!

A second look is enough to know what this is made of, but what is it and where did we see this? It's somewhere in the Loire Valley of course, and if you have visited the place recently it shouldn't be too difficult ...

The answer ... on Friday! First prize? A box of Belgian chocolates.

 I mean it!

Ready, steady ... GO! Good luck.

Candes Saint Martin – 2

Being ‘Un des Plus Beau Villages the France’, Candes Saint Martin offers some very photogenic features. In fact; almost everything is worth pointing one’s camera at. The main point of interest is of course the church. It was built on the spot where Martin of Tours, a.k.a. Saint Martin died at the end of the 4^th century.

If you look closely at the clock, you'll notice that it was almost noon
and we were getting hungry ...

He isn’t buried here, but in the Saint Martin Basilica in Tours. However, a large slab stone marks the spot where the man died. I tried to shoot a photo of the stone, but the light in the side chapel of the church is too poor to get a good result with a pocket-size camera. If you want to see it, I can only advice you to go and see for yourself and take in some more of the views.

I wonder whether somebody is actually living on that boat.
When we were there, it looked quite deserted.

'On dirait le sud ...'

The flood marker from 1923 came has high as the second
level on the rack along the left wall. Can you imagine the damage

the water must have done in these narrow gravel streets and inside
the houses.

Each time I see this entrance, I want to go in and find out
what lies behind this lovely patio.

* * * * *

Next stop: Candes Saint Martin - 1

Visiting Candes Saint Martin, on the confluent of the Loire and the Vienne, is like returning to my roots. Don’t ask me why, because before ‘finding’ Candes almost by accident on our first or second Loire Valley tour, I had never even heard of the village. I know I have written about it many times before and that I’ve posted scores of photos of the place. But I just can’t help it; it’s a magic place that really has gotten under my skin. I’m not sure that it had the same effect on my friends Bea and jean-Luc when I took them there in 2010. But it certainly did something to Mats and Vera. After showing them the-to- me-most-beautiful-spot in the Loire Valley – the village seen from the bridge over the Vienne  …

... I guided them along a narrow alley to the banks of the river to enjoy the peace and quiet of the water’s edge and the view of the two rivers merging. A French writer called it the spot where ‘a King (the Loire) receives a Queen (the Vienne) in his bed’. Vera was much impressed and moved by this and we sat for a long time on the one and only bench overlooking the confluent. Soon we were joined by other tourists taking in the view. The stream seemed to have the same effect on them, because, although people were talking freely, pointing out elements of interest to each other, nobody raised his or her voice. In fact, I had the impression that they were almost whispering.

 

On two or three occasions they looked at us, secretly hoping that we would leave soon, so that could take over the bench! We were in no hurry though and lingered a little longer. This was the first time that I noticed a difference in colour between the Loire and the Vienne. Maybe it was the speed at which the water was travelling, but you could clearly see where the two currents touched and mingled.

But, but however peaceful the river looks, one shouldn’t underestimate its power. Carved into the white limestone walls of the houses along the river bank, you’ll find several carvings, indicating the level of the water when, due to a swell of the river, the water invaded the charming village. We saw some carvings from the 19^th century and this one, dating from March 3^rd, 1923. The line you see under the date was at a height of 80 cm or even more.

* * * * *

Another market

If Amboise has the best market in the Touraine, Bourgeuil’s Tuesday market is a close runner up. I can’t visit the region without stopping at Bourgeuil. Last month, we set out around nine in the morning, taking the Nationale that runs along the Loire River. It’s about 70 km and the drive takes about an hour. On the way you pass the city of Tours, the intriguing Pile de Cinq-Mars, the castles of Luynes and Langeais and the nuclear plant near Port Boulet. You can see the two large cooling towers of the plant from a long distance. They look like two gigantic chimneys puffing big white clouds of steam into the air.  

While I was pointing this out to my friends, we missed the ‘départementale’ that runs through the vineyards of Bourgeuil and Saint Nicolas de Bourgeuil and drove into town from the South instead of the North. I was slightly disorientated by this and hadn’t the faintest idea about the parking options, or the way into the market. But then I remembered that the best way to find a market is to follow a woman carrying a wicker basket. Soon you’ll see more people going in the same direction, all carrying baskets or large shopping bags. By the time you see people coming the opposite way, carrying baguettes, vegetables and fruit you can count on the market being just around the next corner.  

We found a convenient parking space in the car park of the local supermarket – not sure if we were allowed to park there not having the intention to visit the supermarket. But more people seemed to do the same thing, so we thought it was safe to leave the car there. It was just a short 3 minute stroll into the market. Once again we came in the ‘wrong’ way and I had trouble finding my bearings and the vendors that I wanted to visit. 

First stop was the honey lady. It’s still the same woman I shopped with n 1999 when I bought honey for my mother and honey vinegar for myself. I’ve been a yearly customer, except last year when I didn’t travel to the Loire. I think she vaguely recognizes me, but has never mentioned it. Although I know that none of us is getting any younger, I thought that she had aged a lot in two years time. Moreover, she was no longer manning the stall on her own but had the help of a young couple. Her daughter and son-in-law, perhaps – or maybe the other way round? I bought the usual and Vera also bought two jars of honey. 

Here are some images of our visit.

The old market hall of Bourgeuil, with the honey lady in her usual spot
(in the back on the left, dressed in a red jumper).

Queuing to buy some radishes and cherries.

We bought a beautiful and juicy melon from this vendor.

Mmmmmmm.

The Micky bar where we usually have a drink when we have finished
our shopping. Mats and Vera weren't thristy though and we moved on.

Returning to the carpark with our 'loot'.

The church of Bourgeuil around which the lively weekly market is set up.
Posting this photo just made me realize that I've never been inside
and that I haven't even seen the village without
it's Tuesday market in full swing.
I'm here and now making a mental note to do that the
next time I'm in 'La Touraine'.

Back in Vouvray

Before setting out on this year’s Loire Valley trip I had sent Mats and Vera a list of possible ‘things to do’ asking them to rate the topics from 1 to 5, 1 being what they liked best and 5 meaning ‘no way!’ It didn’t mention any actual places but just ‘interests’ such as: castles (interior/exterior), gardens, outdoor markets, meeting people, museums, churches, big cities, shopping, wine tasting, picnics, restaurants, etc. …. When I received Mats’ mail with their answer, I knew that we would get along very well … it was so like what I had been enjoying during my previous visits. The only score that disappointed me was ‘shopping’, which they gave a poor 4. 

A topic that got a solid 1 though, was wine tasting! I was delighted and worried at the same time. From the past I knew that Mats was into sturdy South American wines. Even the most ‘heavy’ Loire Valley wines, like Chinon and Saint Nicolas de Bourgeuil, don’t even come close to the SA wines. I therefore decided that I would first introduce my friends to the white wines, which are quite unique.  

Wine tasting at Guertin's.

The dry Vouvray wine, made from Chenin grapes, is my absolute favourite when it comes to white wine. Staying in a Bed and Breakfast in the heart of the village of Vouvray, there wasn’t a better place to introduce my friends to the local golden nectar! Although I prefer to avoid the too ‘commercial - tourist trap' shops along the main road, there is one place in the so-called ‘Virage gourmand’ that is really good. It belongs to the Guertin family. We have tasted and bought wine there in the past, and the owners are really friendly, helpful, patient and not pushy at all. They will open which ever wine you want to taste and will never try to influence you. You want to buy some wine – even if it is just one bottle; OK no problem. You don’t want to buy? That’s fine too. And - most important - their Vouvray wine is really excellent! 

So, on our way back from Loches, I suggested we’d stop at Guertin’s and do some tasting. Although it was five minutes to closing time, we were greeted warmly by a young man who turned out to be one of the ‘Guertin boys’. He asked us which wines we were interested in. I was mainly interested in the dry white Chenin and a white bubbly, while Mats and Vera preferred the demi-sec rosé bubbly, a sweet white and a red. Vouvray doesn’t do red wines, but the Guertin’s also carry the local Touraine (cabernet) and the Chinon wines. Unlike the guy next-door – where we stopped a few days later – Guertin also offers you the possibility to taste these wines from other AOC’s.  

The tasting went surprisingly well with my friends appreciating the wines our host had selected. Vera turned out to be a real ‘connoisseur’. It was only later that I learned she had been taking a wine tasting course recently. We spent a pleasant half an hour, trying five different wines. We walked out with six bottles of rosé bubbly, twelve bottles of Touraine red (for Mats and Vera) and six bottles of dry Vouvray white (for me). 

In good spirits we drove up the hill to our lodgings to find the little bar by the church open. During my previous stays in Vouvray in 2008, 2009 and 2010 ‘Le Bouchon’ has been our mandatory stop for a late afternoon drink before returning to the B&B, which is 50 metres up to road. I didn’t want to break the habit, and suggested washing down the wine with a cool beer. It was warm enough to sit outside and Vera and I went in to get our drinks. Valerie the young landlady immediately recognized me from my previous visits and greeted us with genuine pleasure. 

Beer tasting at 'Le Bouchon'.

We sat outside, enjoying our ‘Licorne’ beer talking about everything we had done that day and discussing our plans for the next day. While we were sitting there, the ‘Guertin boy’ from the shop walked by on his way to his brother’s house. He waved to us and gave us big smile. People in the Loire Valley are so kind and friendly and really welcoming to the tourists who ‘invade’ their region. We would get more proof of that a few days later. The rest of the evening was spent having a picnic supper at our B&B before going to bed around 10.30 p.m. Too early? Maybe, but we had another big day ahead.

A surprise visit

After finishing our lunch at La Gerbe d’Or we all returned to the bar where we had had our pre-luncheon drinks. We chatted a bit longer over coffee and beer, after which we split up in two groups. Mats and Vera set out on their own to go and visit the donjon. After all we would be spending the best part of the rest of the week together, while Jean and Nick would be returning the next day to the UK. Moreover, I have seen the donjon on two previous occasions.  

It was almost half past three when Mats and Vera left the bar. We agreed that we would meet there again between five and quarter past five at the latest. Just when I was about to ask Jean and Nick whether they wanted to stay there or take a stroll around town, Jean came up with a brilliant idea. She turned to Nick and with a twinkle in her eye and said: “I know what we can do! We have time enough to show Martine our house in Le Grand Pressigny, haven’t we?” Nick thought it was a good idea too, and I was really happy with the unexpected invitation.  

I had seen so many photos of their cute cottage and their dog Lulu on Jean’s blog, that I was thrilled to finally see the house and the dog for ‘real’. I had some doubts about the feasibility though, given the short time span of only 1.30 hours and considering the distance. Moreover, I didn’t want them to go through any extra trouble for me. But they both insisted – after all it was ‘only a 30 minutes’ drive (one way), which left us 30 minutes to visit the house, the garden and meet playful Lulu. 

Jean insisted that I’d sit in the front seat with Nick taking the wheel; a gesture I much appreciated because I had a much better view of the scenery then if I had been sitting in the backseat of the car. I really enjoyed the unexpected ride through the Touraine countryside sitting in a British car … which made me see the French roads from a new and unusual angle and perspective. Nick stayed away from the main roads and we made our way south along calm country lanes, with a lot of vegetation, flowers, small cottages and nice pastures.

During the ride we shared our blogging adventures. We all agreed that the posts that attract most readers and comments are those about personal subjects. Very often the best written and documented posts about historic buildings, cultural events, nature, etc. hardly get any attention. While an everyday personal mishap or success suddenly stirs people’s interests. We came to the conclusion that there is a peeping-tom lurking in each and everyone of us and that peeking into somebody else’s private life can be very stimulating indeed. I guess we bloggers all have an exhibitionistic streak; mind you not the kind of ‘suspicious-man-in-trenchcoat’ exhibitionist. More the kind that likes to share his or her experiences and thoughts with people who think alike and have the same interests in life. 

After a pleasant 30 minute drive, we arrived at Le Grand Pressigny where we were warmly greeted by Lulu. While Nick poured us some drinks, Jean showed me around the house. It’s lovely! Actually, the word I used was ‘sweet’, which made Jean laugh. But it is, believe me. Although it’s not very big, it has all the modern commodities, with a very nice and relatively large kitchen, an inviting fireplace, cosy armchairs, two comfortable and tastefully decorated bedrooms and a garden and terrace to die for. We sat outside for a while, sipping our drinks and playing with Lulu. She’s quite a character and ever so friendly. 

When the local bell tower chimed half past four, it was time to go. This time Lulu came with us. We were running a bit late, and I called Mats on his mobile phone to tell him not to worry and that we would be at our rendezvous point by half past five at the latest. We made good progress though and arrived at the café in Loches well before my friends did. We decided to have another drink together and although it had started to rain again, we huddled together under the parasols, with Lulu happily running around.  

Mats and Vera had enjoyed their visit of the donjon and the medieval town of Loches. They had done some food shopping, but unfortunately had forgotten to buy a baguette for our evening picnic. So I dashed off to the nearest bakery to get one. Next door to the bakery was a butcher where I bought a smelly garlic sausage. Back at the café, Lulu immediately picked up the smell, and looked at the package with anticipation (in vain though). 

It was well over six when we decided to say goodbye, with Nick and Jean returning to their cottage for a last night in Le Grand Pressigny before heading home to the UK the next morning. We headed north, back to Vouvray and our B&B. Thank you Jean and Nick for a lovely day. I hope to see you again, soon … in France, the UK or why not Belgium!

________

I wanted to post some legends with the photos, but blogger is playing up again.  But I guess you've figured out 'who's who' :)