Sunday Ride

Fortunately, as hoped, the weatherman was wrong again today.  Actually, for accuracy's sake, he was right this morning, we had a morning of light drizzle, but this afternoon it started clearing up quickly and finding Betsy, as always, ready to ride, we pulled out just looking for some two-lane road and beautiful country. We headed back to Clisson, the small little city about twenty-one miles (34 Km) from my apartment.

Clisson is located in a hilly area with homes at about three different levels among the hills.  This morning at work, talking with Olivier, who lives there, he pointed out one of the reasons I find it so pleasing: the lack of large signs.  The city, as reflected in March  (See March 7th entry), has large 12th century ruins that are very popular with visitors.  Because of the hills (remember I pointed out the rich seemed to get the high ground all the time) the ruins are visible from many points.  Wisely, they don't wish those views cluttered up by road signs and other commercial clutter.  C'est marche (it works.)

 Riding into town I turn toward the modern city center and pass over this little river.

 Nice work, huh?

 I then go into the old city area and snap a shot of the main castle ruins by the same river.

 In March I took a picture from the area between the house and the ruin looking this way. 

 Behind me and down about two blocks was this great little cafe.  Availed myself of the opportunity to have a nice little local white wine in the cool of the early afternoon.








I then headed back for home routing myself through a small village in the heart of the local wine country.

Wine, early stage

And then home.  Another nice day in France.

Ho-Hum Yet Another Seaside Visit

The weather report yesterday threatened cloudy skies today with scattered showers on Sunday.  I've been wanting to visit Saint Malo, a walled city on the north Atlantic coast.  Given the forecast and, being the shrewd planner that I am, not to mention my reluctance to ride in the rain if avoidable, I determined to make the trip today and not on Sunday.  So...off I went.

110 Miles from Nantes to Saint Malo

Coming into Saint Malo you circle round the Cartier Basin (I saw no diamonds...but I saw people who have some.)

But first, we have to get there.

Probably comes as a surprise to you, but the weatherman was wrong.  And, so, as ordered by Clint Eastwood in 'Heartbreak Ridge (1986), I chose to "adapt, overcome, survive;" I took the car.  The rain was very light but drizzled almost all the way there.  It stopped for the time I was visiting then began again on my return.  Through all of this I was sad that I hadn't chosen to ride Betsy.  There were (still) a lot of bikes on the road and it just wasn't that bad.  Of course, with my luck, had I saddled up Betsy animals would have started pairing up along the side of the road.

All that notwithstanding, I managed to get there.

Private boats in Bassin Cartier.
I think our buddy, Tony H. (See entry for Jan. 27th), keeps a sailboat around here.  I wonder if I'm looking at it.

First entry into the walled city from my parking place.

However, being the contrary fellow I am, I chose to ignore that initial entrance and walk around the wall to check the place out.
This is a pretty entrance area at the far north of the city, adjacent to the water.

City guardian, Fort Royale

Back around to the city wall.

Inside the wall now, I come upon this handsome edifice. 
The Hotel Chateaubriand.

A little further "inside" a small square with flowers.  Boy, I'll tell you, spring is really something in Europe.

The place isn't flat.  Looking up the street.

Looking down the street.

This stuff is neat...but a little tough on my gimpy leg.  That stone is still in there moving little, but letting its presence known.

Stopped for a light lunch a this little restaurant.  As with most of these tourist cities, you can't swing a dead cat an not hit a restaurant, hotel, bar, or gift/souvenir shop.

But, the luncheon was good.  I've ceased being sensitive about asking for "cafe long avec du leu chaud."  That means extra hot water to "tone" it down some.  Sometimes I just want "American" coffee.  I think Europeans drink coffee for the kick,  while we wimps water it down and actually like it.  Surprisingly, I have developed a taste for the stronger stuff as well, usually drinking it "ala European."  So, when I hear the rebuttal from my French friends I can believe they like it too.

Upon the wall, looking into the city.

These next two will give you an idea of the thickness of the walls.  Short of a bunker-buster and nukes, I don't think we have any standard artillery that would breach them today.

They still have the doors so they can close it off if they want. 












A couple of hours drive and I'm back in Nantes hoping the weatherman is wrong again tomorrow.  A round of golf would be nice.

A Day at the Shore

Returned home from Spain and Portugal Friday afternoon.  Great trip with some set-backs, not the least of them a problem with the maps loaded into my GPS.  But, as the lady with the large derriere pointed out, it's all behind me now.  Looking forward to my next trip.

Today was a beautiful day in France.  Even though I'd had my butt in the seat for nine days, I needed some more road, so a little trip to the shore was in order.

Lazy start this morning.  Pulled out of town about 10:30am.  Visited the little coastal towns of Le Croissic, La Turballe, and Piriac-Sur-Mer on the Guérande Peninsula, west of Nantes.

The day was just post-card perfect.  Temperature at the start was about 78 degrees F., rising to about 86.  Not a cloud in the sky, just a slight breeze.  You can't ask for better weather.

Pulled in to Le Croissic about noon after just putting along enjoying the day.  Pretty little French fishing village...catching, it seems, more tourists than fish.  But that's okay...I'm part of the catch and I think there's no limit.

From the public parking lot in downtown Le Croissic.

To the right a small skiff beached on a sandbar and Mom watching the kids play.

Some folks seem to have figured this situation out.

Nice colorful lobster traps.

Ugly fellow looking back at you.

A statue honoring Pierre Bouguer, the "Father of Naval Architecture."

Found a nice little restaurant (among seemingly hundreds) out of the sun, but in view of the tourists and the sea.  As most here, the specialty is seafood.

A light lunch.  A beer (one) and Moules (mussels).

A little bread and butter and it's tasty, tasty.
Moules Marinières (steamed mussels with white wine, shallots, laurel leaf and thyme)

Some kids have figured this situation out as well.









A short ride north and pulled into Piriac-Sur-Mer just long enough to turn around and move back south to La Turballe.  Pirac s/Mer was mostly nice nice little houses fronting the beach...not much to see.
La Turballe seemed a very nice spot to spend some time.  I'm going to come back here when I have more time to explore around and enjoy the sights, people, and area.  Probably come over on a Friday evening and stay the night into the next day.  Beautiful little area.

Lots of public access to the water in this area...with lots of people taking advantage of it.  Just seems like a good place to stay.

Some more folks who have figured it out.  This was an impressively rigged little vessel.  If I had a boat, this is what I'd like to have.








Turned it around and headed back into Nantes.  Just a short little trip to the beach for a nice lunch.  Total time about six hours (non-deductible from your life time).

Heading Out

As promised (threatened?), I'm pulling out sometime Thursday on Betsy for Spain and Portugal.  Plans, as usual are pretty fluid with only a couple of "must see" sights.  As a history bug I want to visit several of the sites of Wellington's Peninsula Campaign (1808-14).  Ol' Arthur proved himself a master of supply and tactics in this learning ground leading up to Waterloo.  There are a couple of places one just has to visit, Santiago de Compostela and Basilica Sacred Family in Barcelona spring immediately to mind.  Sort of have my eye on turning east out of Lisbon to the area where most of the "spaghetti" westerns were shot back in the 60s.  (Yeah, I know, many of you don't remember them...some because they are too young, others because they were there.)

The url for this trip is: Spain-Portugal May 2010

London - Deux

Woke up early, as usual when I'm on a trip.  I just can't wait to get out "in it."  I'm really looking forward to my motorcycle trip through Spain and Portugal scheduled to start next week.  (A note of caution: the boss has been trying to get in touch with me.  Says he needs to talk.  Wonder if it has anything to do with my scheduled vacation?)

I guess the Paris underground spoiled me.  I think I can get anywhere in twenty-five minutes.  Not so today in London.  They do scheduled maintenance on the weekends (I wonder when Paris does theirs?) and everywhere you looked a line was closed, either totally, or from x to y.  Causes some level of problems for a Texas boy not used to taking public transportation.  (We are committed to support our national oil industry in anyway we can.)

I had that great little artery-clogging English breakfast (again, sans Kippers) then took off for the underground.  My target was Hyde Park.  Problem is it took me over an hour and fifteen minutes to get there as I had to divert from one line to another.  One of my goals was to visit "Speakers Corner," the place where any and everyone stands on his "soapbox" and says whatever he wants.  It is from such traditions that our freedoms spring and I think it important to recognize such things.  As luck would have it, given the time it took me to get to the park, I didn't have time to even visit that spot.   But, I got there, before having to turn around and go back to the hotel to pick up my luggage.

Three line changes later I arrive at a goal:

 
"Well, I decided that I'd get my cowboy hat,
And go down to Marble Arch Station.
'Cause when a Texan fancies,
That he'll take his chances,
Chances will be taken, that's for sure."

 Okay.  Where did it come from?  And who wrote it? 
 (My money's on Jamey or Claye for this one.)

Postscript:  Wrong again!  Runner came through...see comments.

This was neat.  Some "painted" elephants (I prefer women) on the lawn..but what's that behind them?  I sort of assumed it was another nude...headless, no less...these sculpture fellows seem to be fairly randy and bizzare  folks.  But, perception is everything, huh?

Hyde Park

There was some sort of exhibit being prepared behind the "fencing" in the background.  But I had neither the time, nor the opportunity, to sniff it out.



 Flower bed by the Marble Arch underground station.

But...I was out of time and had to wend my way back through the maze of closed underground routes to the hotel to check out.  This is NOT what you want to see when you walk up two or three flights of steps, on a "game" leg, to the "next" connection:

In spite of such delays I made it back to the hotel, checked out and, finally and fortunately, made it to the train station catching my "chunnel" train in plenty of time.  Nice little ride back home and here I am slaving over a hot keyboard.

Oh...the statue in Hyde Park:

Perception is everything, you know.