Sauf le mardi

Brilliant day with sun and warmth. We set off to Vaison market so Anne could buy some fabric and amazingly found just what she was looking for. Flushed with success, off to St Restitut for a tapas lunch at the lovely Bistro du Pays we discovered last autumn. Hopes dashed - when we got to the village there was the ominous vision of workmen in the courtyard and no tables set up... So I went down and read the notice. Not only were they closed for hols until tomorrow they didn't even usually open on Tuesdays! Consternation - where to go, would we starve?  Luckily... I realised we were within striking distance of another former find - the Absinthe restaurant in La Garde Adhémar, also a Bistro du Pays. Thank goodness this one was open for business and we got a table in the sun and had a reasonable lunch. Not exceptional but the situation is so nice that it didn't matter. And it was so hot! After lunch there was a little turn round the physic garden along the ramparts where we gazed on the busy scene down in the valley - roads, river, rail. Plus the usual white smoke from nuclear facilities. And way beyond, the outlines of the Cévennes and the Ardèche. Several TGVs snaked through but for some reason they were going uncommon slow.Maybe there are track workings on this stretch.


The return journey took us via Grignan so we thought we'd go for a stroll round the Château gardens because the views from there are spectacular. It was all looking good as we walked up the slope - sun was shining, birds singing and a bloke playing the harp most tastefully in an alcove of the gardens! Curiously there was a group of Germans mooching disconsolately near the entrance. Why were they not going in? I saw the closed and barred doors with no welcoming lights inside and realised. The château is a national museum and therefore CLOSED ON TUESDAYS like all the rest of them! Grrr.

We consoled ourselves with a sit down and a drink in the courtyard of the Colophon printing shop and came home.

Heat

At last. Warm apart from the wind and even that has got the message and calmed down. So, overdressed, we went down to the river for a walk beneath the cliffs. There it is sheltered and layers were removed. To get to the river you have to seek out a likely lane leading down from the main road through the vines. Some end in a garden or courtyard, others become tracks and go right there.



There is a fringe of scrubby trees between the vines and the river and the trick is to find a hunters' track that goes through. Dotted along the track are ramshackle bird hunting hides so we go swiftly by, gaze averted, until the vegetation turns into sparse shrubs of willow and alder and, occasionally, a garden escape cotoneaster.



And, the river.
It was moving swiftly today and clear as crystal. The river cliffs are below Rasteau and mark the end of a narrow gorge-like section that runs from Roaix.















The rock on the lower edge is banded multi-coloured river sediments and mudstone. Jackdaws were nesting in holes up the cliff, butterflies and giant bees fluttered about and we could hear the sound of the usual nameless warbler type birds in the treetops. Lovely.

Curtains

The search for floaty curtains goes on... Linda mentioned that Bazarland in Vaison might be the place. Bazarland?! Grief. We often pass this place with a smirk and a shudder. Not the type of establishment we usually patronise. But needs and desperation must so we parked up and went in. Well they certainly had curtains - aisles of the stuff. And lots more besides. In fact everything you could ever want but somehow not really. The floaties were in every colour except yellow (which we wanted) but also in polyester. Then we spotted some grey and white stripey ones and had an epiphany. Why not ditch the colourful and go for tasteful - even in polyester? Sold.

Saturday 5..30 (our time) is Skype time with Adam. But sometimes the Lordship keeps us waiting anxiously staring at the screen waiting for for the creepy Skype ringing tone. Has he forgotten, is he ill, had an accident, asleep or just late?!

Windy walks

Eek ! Winds of 82kmh. But much warmer out of it. We decided to risk a walk and sped away once again in the direction of the Rhône, stopping first of all at Uchaux. This is a wooded hilly commune between us and Bollène and a bit off the beaten track. Strange place in some ways –a charming olde worlde central village surrounded by woods in which lurked new villas. The walk took us up to the ruins of a mediaeval fortress and restored chapel.












Sitting in the shelter of the latter it was blissful – warm and quiet apart from the roaring of the wind in the treetops.










The soil here is weird - real sand, just like being on the beach.

Across the mighty Rhône we tracked down a riverside settlement called St Etienne des Sorts. It's really rare to find a village right on the river's edge at this point. There are lots up stream nearer to Lyon, and a few below Avignon, but this section is mostly flood plain with settlements of any size clinging to the river cliffs.












The wind was whipping the water into real waves that slapped against the house walls and there were a few rather smart barges turned into house boats.









On the way home we had another look at Rochegude. Again, a pretty hilltop town with a château. But no ordinary château this. Oh no. Here be a Relais et Château four star hotel. I looked at the price of the rooms – er, no! The Easter menu at 95 euros looked a bargain though. At least seven courses including wine.

The Bridge

We went in search of floaty curtains... across the Rhône to Pont St Esprit where there is a branch of Mr Bricolage. Their online site showed a range of jolly colours. Alas, the reality was Polyester and garish, so we investigated the town instead.
It has a magnificent 13th century arched bridge over what must have been every braid in the Rhône before it was tamed. But the bit through the town is still proper river and flows between sand banks and weirs.




No boulangerie to be seen on this street!












Although it is certainly warmer today it is ferociously windy and not conducive to extensive walking. We wimped out and had lunch in Rochegude – a village between Ste Cécile and Bollène– then meandered our way back through the back roads of the plain, discovering great views and hitherto unvisited hilltop villages.

The florists in Ste Cécile has gone Bunny Bonkers for Easter. Instead of the usual tasteful window of expensive pots and arrangements they have live Lop-Eared baby rabbits shambling about and eating carrots.









Unbelievably sweet. There's another one asleep under the birdcage. And I'm sure that on Saturday there were some more so let's hope they are in fact ornamental. You never know in France!

a cook abroad

Different climate altogether this morning. Warm. And even some blue sky. Hooray. A visit to Intermarché was called for a) to buy some essentials and b) to wash the duvet in one of those mega machines they have outside. With some trepidation (I have never done this before...) I placed said bedlinen in the drum and selected a programme then went off to shop. It was done in 30 minutes, ready for the dreaded tumble drier. Thank goodness a woman appeared with her own load of washing so at least I had someone to ask about temperature and length of time.

In the supermarket we found ourselves in front of a Wall of Cream (dairy product, not colour). Unheard of! It has long been common gossip at the Ladies' Circle that one simply cannot buy proper cream in France. How, we wondered, did the French Housewife produce those gooey pastries and rich sauces, not to mention gratin dauphinois, all calling for litres of the stuff, when all that could be obtained in the shops were tiny tetrabriks of UHT. Here, though, were shelves of various FRESH, bottles and tubs of all manner of cream, just as in our own dear Supermarchés. Progress.

is it Spring?

Very cold. Leggings under trousers and thick fleece. Grey. It's been very wet here this winter too. Nothing much to report of the day so here is a picture. A giant relief map of the Ardèche and surrounding hills at the picnic spot on the way down. It was protected by green railings so you could walk round but not across. There were mimosa trees flowering across the valley there, but not here.

Eclipsed

Here as a starter is the pizza place we went to last night! Strange concept but good food.











Awoke to rain and cloud that persisted across the Massif Central and boded ill for any glimpse of sun let alone an eclipse. We soldiered on to Ambert for breakfast at around 9.30. Ambert is a pretty town with a smashing campsite and pool that we used to frequent when Adam was little. There is a preserved railway that chugs up the valley and a paper manufacturing museum- neither of which we have visited! But there are also bars and pâtisseries so we had the makings of breakfast. Except that we chanced upon an establishment that was having its own private eclipse- power cut... No matter, it was bright and tasteful. Under new ownership. And we were in no hurry. Eventually power was restored by man with a drill and coffees served with a smile and apology. Much joking about well at least we had a sort of eclipse and obviously there would be no real one because of the weather...we drove on.
Aha! But soft, what light from yonder cloud bank breaks? It is the East and there is the Sun. Just, and only briefly. Doing a dance of the seven veils with wispy clouds. At the appointed hour it cleared and we saw the dark shadow top left exactly as predicted. Five minutes later it was overcast and raining again.
Back in Sablet early afternoon. Bruno at the bar greeted us effusively and thrust a box of Ricard glasses plus Ricard water bottle into Adrian's grateful hands. He is clearing out all the freebies he gets from suppliers!

Yesterday's post now has some images of Vichy. More on flickr.

Bath water

Anyway, today was a grey trip through the Beauce and down the Loire. Not unpleasant but without any real excitement. First and only vines round Sancerre. And it is, once more, national hedging and ditching day. Every available verge or tree lined road was being brutalised, strimmed and chipped by men with mechanical toys.












We got to Vichy at just after 2 then dropped off bags in the Ibis B before taking a trip round the town. What an amazing place. All manner of confections architectural from Fin de Siècle villas to severe 30s concrete Post Office and exuberant domed public buildings surrounded by covered promenades. Didn't partake of the waters - always tastes to me of Fairy Liquid - but I did have a Vin Chaud and waffle!












Adrian gazed wistfully into the absinthe emporium.

The Grand Burstin

Yes, honest. That is the name of our hotel in Folkestone.

An unlovely pile right on the old harbour, one side of which (the other side) is all smart fish restaurants, municipal fountain, seafood shacks and neat houses. The other (our side) is a derelict Victorian station and Harbour Master's house with the former railway line coming across the water on a rickety viaduct. All currently being knocked about and restored.

We walked around in the evening gloom straining to spot the lighthouse but all we could see was a sickly green sweep every now and then and a horrific giant seagull illuminated by a streetlight.

The hotel itself was like no hotel I've ever seen Grommit. A towering ziggurat in concrete, huge downstairs with at least two restaurants and bars galore. Full of parties of elderly, school trips and a few families. A Britannia Hotel - say no more. Butlins meets Motorway Service. But it was friendly, professional and our room in the 'old' bit downstairs was clean and comfortable with bathroom and little sitting area. And the breakfast was free. All you could eat etc etc. Felt a bit feeble only having porridge and peaches!

Now you will recall that the reason for us staying here was to avoid fretting about missing the ferry. Well, after breakfast we took another stroll about and were admiring the fishing boats, when Adrian said 'cripes we'd better go!' It was 8.45 and ferry check in was no later than 9.25... Wouldn't it just have been too ironic to miss it!
Fear not, we got there in time but they were already loading.


Arrived Chartres about 4.30 and eventually tracked down the Ibis Budget someway out of town by the motorway as per. Then a fruitless drive round looking for somewhere to eat in the city. Aagh. No street parking, masses of traffic, so we turned tail and went to a little town in the Beauce where we bought delicious sandwiches and picnicked in the room listening to last night's Archers. Like I say,
we certainly live it up!

getting set up

New design new url. Hopefully this will load quicker. There are links to previous blogs and flickr sites in the right hand column.


Departure date is 18 March. Cheldon to Chartres in one giant stride!

Scrub that... I have persuaded himself that to get up at 3am and face the roadworks on M3, rush hour on M25 etc with a deadline is too stressful. We are leaving Tuesday evening for the delights of an overnight on Folkestone harbour. £34 breakfast included at the strangely named Grand Burstin Hotel...