We, like everyone else who lives here, are amazed by the weather. All plans for the day went out the window on Thursday when we discovered that it would be sunny and 17 degrees. Time for another long hike.
There are many surprises about French life and one of them is the great interest in hiking. There are hiking trails criss-crossing the country, well maintained we are told, by various municipalities and clubs. All around La Rochelle are various randonnées and we have tried out several of them. By taking a city bus to the end of the line, we can begin the walk, following the sometimes confusing directions from our little book. Last month we did what is now called The Long March. We became completely confused by the directions but carried on as it was so beautiful. It was only when we returned home that we discovered our mistake. We had missed the correct bus stop and had begun much further away than planned. In fact, we had walked 14 kilometres. Even our French friends were impressed!
We started out on Thursday with bus map, randonnée directions, sun screen and snacks to the Place de Verdun for the bus to an ancient village called Nieul sur Mer. It was the week of the Rights of the Child and it seems that many French children were being schooled in the French art of the "manifestation".
The town, about 8 km. from La Rochelle began its life over a thousand years ago, much closer to the sea than it is now. A combination of natural sedimentation and land recovery has pushed the ocean back. The swamps that were once used for salt recovery are now oyster beds. The once verdant wine fields were decimated in 1880 by the scourge from North America, phylloxera and never recovered. Now the village seems sleepier than ever and is a bedroom community for La Rochelle as well as a summer place for people from away.
There are many surprises about French life and one of them is the great interest in hiking. There are hiking trails criss-crossing the country, well maintained we are told, by various municipalities and clubs. All around La Rochelle are various randonnées and we have tried out several of them. By taking a city bus to the end of the line, we can begin the walk, following the sometimes confusing directions from our little book. Last month we did what is now called The Long March. We became completely confused by the directions but carried on as it was so beautiful. It was only when we returned home that we discovered our mistake. We had missed the correct bus stop and had begun much further away than planned. In fact, we had walked 14 kilometres. Even our French friends were impressed!
We started out on Thursday with bus map, randonnée directions, sun screen and snacks to the Place de Verdun for the bus to an ancient village called Nieul sur Mer. It was the week of the Rights of the Child and it seems that many French children were being schooled in the French art of the "manifestation".
A very quick bus ride and we arrived at the Mairie, the centre of administrative life in all French towns. Often in grand buildings, Nieul sur Mer is no exception. Their marie is in an 18th century mansion once owned by an Irish member of the French army!
The town, about 8 km. from La Rochelle began its life over a thousand years ago, much closer to the sea than it is now. A combination of natural sedimentation and land recovery has pushed the ocean back. The swamps that were once used for salt recovery are now oyster beds. The once verdant wine fields were decimated in 1880 by the scourge from North America, phylloxera and never recovered. Now the village seems sleepier than ever and is a bedroom community for La Rochelle as well as a summer place for people from away.
We set off through the narrow streets, past all sorts of interesting houses and strange doorways.
This was a stone over the doorway of a rebuilt wall. One can guess what the trade of the ancient owner was.
And then it was time for un bon café crème at a curiously named café, that has sat on the main square since 1923. We were amused but tempted by its decidedly non Tex-Mex menu. I went inside to use the washroom and was confronted by a little group of elderly men, working out their bets for the PMU (pari mutuel urbain) the horse racing betting forms. They all looked as worried as students writing final exams as they licked their pencils and frowned furiously at the newspapers. The actual toilet will be a blog for later!!
We walked on out of the village, along a lovely lane, running beside a stream, called strangely the Gô. Lots of signs of wild life, some pretty swans and ducks and very few people.
Suddenly the ocean was before us, a gentle wind off the land, the sound of the waves hitting the limestone cliffs.
We carried on along these cliffs for several kilometres, past some old oyster beds
until we stopped for a small picnic. As we were munching, another hiking couple approached. "Bon appétit!" they called. They may have thought that apples and cheese weren't quite up to scratch for a proper lunch!
The path doubled back to the old village of Lauzières. Here there was evidence of the continuing importance of oyster farming: many cultivated beds and signs for fresh oysters for sale as well as the other uses for the shells.
To our delight, we also found
so named because the paving stones, now covered by asphalt, were the ballast of 17th century sailing ships from Canada. Further on, we felt for the poor WWI soldier whose legs, made of the local calcite stone, have been eaten away by the weather. He looks as though he has monumental varicose veins.
And after five hours (and 10 km.), we were back again at the Mairie and the bus stop, blessed with this day of peace and adventure.
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