This weekend we had our first holiday together for four years, comprising a night away at Saint-Gilles-Croix-de-Vie in the Vendée. Once we had fed both sets of cats, and hidden food bowls around the house for the girls, we headed south west in search of pastures new, sea air, food not cooked by us and exercise.
Our first "holiday" stop was to admire the ruined castle at les Essarts, somewhat north of la Roche-sur-Yon. it looked dramatic driving by, and has a lovely new carpark and an excellent boardwalk to the entrance, but won't be open until 7th April, so the boardwalk was as far as we got.
We then carried on to Saint Gilles itself, found a parking space near our hotel and before we checked in, went for a first exploratory wander. The place is an amalgamation of a number of small communities along both banks of a river which takes a tortuous route to the sea. We were on the far side, so to speak, but there was actually a further side beyond the river Vie, which we went to today. Without a map it was horribly confusing, and as we were outside the tourist season, we had to wait until we checked into the hotel to get our hands on a town plan and make sense of it all. Anyway, we walked out along the river towards the sea, taking a few photos on the way.
We then checked into the hotel, let my feet recover from a lot of walking, and studied the map carefully, before changing for dinner. We then set out inland back over the second loop of the river, and as the weather was pretty filthy, chose the first open restaurant we came to for our dinner, which was very good. I forget how much I like Pineau de Charente as an aperitif! We also forget how good the simple things in life are, like good bread and butter and tinned sardines (sardines are very much The Thing at Saint Gilles), which made a delicious starter. After a very nice dinner, and once that rainstorm had blown over, we went back to the hotel, stopping only to photograph the rather dramatic church tower.
This morning was the fine weather before the storm, so we took advantage to walk up and down along the dune and Grand Plage that protect the entrance to the river Vie and the sailing and fishing ports behind. In summer it must be vile, lined as it is with holiday apartments, candy floss shops, ice cream parlours and creperies, but firmly out of season and with a few brave cafés and restaurants open and a few mad kite surfers, it was what we needed. The wind was blowing a gale, which made life interesting. John had to screw his flat cap on his head to avoid it flying away more than once. The amount of oxygen inhaled in any one breathe was intoxicating and my hair is still standing on end.
Even though we were on holiday, we really couldn't resist this bit of interpretation about and curation of dune plants, vital for saving the Vendée coastline in all its natural splendour against the ravages of the sea. The irony of it being next two blocks of recent and really rather ugly holiday flats seems to be totally lost on the French and local government.
The promised thunderstorm arrived a little after midday, but by that time, we were tucked up in the outer terrace (so protected from most of the elements but with a good view of them all) of a very nice restaurant having a lovely lunch and being aggressively flirted with by a waiter practicing his English before the holiday hoards descend. We dashed to the car in a pause between rain showers, to head home to face the wrath of cats, feeling very well fed, well oxygenated and almost ready for the Spring. Almost...