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| Repairs to Cholet church in the centre of town |
Cholet is another hour from there. Julie met us at the station so that we could follow her in the car and not get lost - essential when we haven’t been there for a while! So lovely to see Nelly and Hubert again - and the well-mown lawn especially for our arrival (Julie - tu traduis pour eux, stp!). Romain was working until 8pm and we shared a fantastic meal when he arrived home. I must try making courgette crumble!!! I have known Romain since he was 14 (in the late 1990s) - now he and Julie have their own house 10km out of Cholet and for the first time we split our time - one night with the parents and one night with the son (and Julie, of course.)
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| Romain and Julie's place |
Julie speaks fabulous English, which she improves every year by watching new TV series in English when they come out, and by reading English books. (Makes the books last longer if you’re on holiday.) Hubert does a lot of cycling (road-cycling, not the wimpy touristy stuff we do) and has the gears for cleaning and fixing bikes in the garage, so we were able to clean up the bikes and let Hubert inflate our tyres with his compressor, made from an old fridge compressor.
After a quiet day poring over maps - beautiful day, manicured lawn, table in shade - we set off to bike to the little village of Toutlemonde (=everybody) for the evening. Slight error of missing the turning meant a cross-country hike as well, but nothing too serious. It just meant that Julie beat us home, even after fielding several phone calls as we got ourselves back on track. Hubert and Nelly came out to share the meal - on their 500cc motorbike. Another lovely meal- and still some left for ‘fuel' the next day.
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| Goodbye Toutlemonde! |
Leaving Cholet was another ‘adventure’. Reluctant to be up and ready in time to do the partly-hilly 10km ride into town to catch the 7.45am train to Nantes, we opted to go into town for the day and take the next train at 4.45pm (summer timetable - the 12.45 doesn’t run and buses are no good for us with the bikes) and go on to Redon. The day was fine and clear and passed enjoyably, including a well-priced meal in the centre of the town - you never know when or what the next meal will be when you’re travelling by bike, and our train wasn’t due in Redon until after 7pm.
Well, it wasn’t a strike but at 4.43pm the train was cancelled (supprimé). what to do? There was another train at 18.33 but arrival at Redon would be nearly 9pm - pretty late. Discussion with the lady in charge of arrangements: coach would be coming at 5pm. She would discuss bikes with the driver. Eventuality: some time after 5.30 pm the coach arrived; the bikes were allowed. But the bus was not going all the way to Nantes. Just to Clisson, 2 stops out of Nantes. It does. It arrives just in time for the 18.16. Small problem: The 18.16 wasn’t going to arrive on the platform near the road. We would have to get the bikes up and over what seemed to be an enormous overbridge. There was a lift - that’s good. They’re almost always too small for our bikes but by judicious twisting and lifting we usually manage. I managed, with Rodney following - as far as the ‘up’ went, then I managed to get down onto the platform just as the train rolled in. No sign of Rodney in either lift - this is because, seeing the train roll in, he lifted up his bike, including at least 20 kilograms of luggage, and carried it down the long set of steps! Once in the train, no problems. We didn’t even try to put them on the racks for such a short journey and just stood with them.
As trains roll into a station where there are connections, a loudspeaker in the train tells you what connections there are and at what time they leave. Our connection to Redon was for 19.05 (perfectly do-able)……with an hour’s delay!. Not looking so useful. We had an hour to decide the next move, both of us pretty tired after the last few hours’ uncertainty and with the prospect of more than an hour’s wait. Leaving Rodney with the bikes I took a stroll around the station area to see if there was any interesting hotels ‘(interesting' meaning not crappy but still affordable). Attracted by the name Astoria, the name of the cafe where we have been meeting friends for longer than I care to add up, I had a close look at the displayed prices. Today’s special price..da da…totally within the realms of reasonable for a good-looking hotel (€60). And furthermore it displayed the Loire à Vélo sign, which means no problem with the bikes. Lock-up garage. A quick chat with the people at the station about re-use of the ticket, stamps and signatures, and we were away from there.
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| Right opposite our balcony |
We were relieved to have somewhere for the night and not at all disappointed with our room, which even had a balcony. You could leave the door open for air and even walk in and out!! Unaccustomed luxury! Recently renovated and very comfortable. We had food with us, (we thought we would need something on hand when we arrived late in Redon), and we had eaten well at midday, so no need to go out looking for a restaurant. Instead we went out for a walk in the warm evening air, past Nantes’ treasured castle where ducks were feeding beside the moat, along the old streets past many restaurants and many diners at the outside tables, until bed seemed to be a better place to be and we returned to the
Astoria.
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| Nightfall in Nantes |
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| Nantes station next morning |
Next day, Redon, of which we had happy memories of our stay last year. At the municipal camping ground, the same friendly student doing 12-hour days for her holiday job greeted us and remembered us from last year - that was the night they got broken into! Having done the administrative tasks, we decided to wait until the shower passed before we put the tent up - little did we know how long we would wait! However, a pleasant afternoon was spent talking to two women from near Paris, part of a party of 3 couples who had just biked along the canal we did last year. We had gathered in the relative shelter of the Reception entrance, moving back further as the rain became heavier and the wind changed. Later on, when we went out hunting and gathering, we came across (that’s a lie. We went into O’Shannon’s Irish Pub for a beer and the barman told us) two older people [=older than us] who spend half the year in France and half in NZ. One from Katikati and the other from Devonport. O’Shannon’s is ‘their’ pub. Their wives were at home, that is, in Redon, not NZ.
Questembert is where we started our bike ride to Elven. It’s pretty, with a spectacular covered market place dating back to 1552, restored 1675. It’s also a place we went to last year with Alexandra, our host for the weekend. This is where we were introduced to La cave du Fromager (the cheese-maker’s cellar), where you can buy both beer and cheese - a remarkable selection of both. Alexandra’s brother-in-law, Laurent, is the fromager and set up the business a few years ago with a friend, Sébastien, who looks after the beer side of things. We thought passing through Questembert without calling in would be pretty rude, so a couple of glasses of La Duchesse Anne with a plate of cheese and charcuterie (some kind of special smoked ham chunks and a local sausage) was called for. No bread, so that the tastes could be savoured.
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