St. Trojan les Bains (Day 2)

 We didn't wake up until nine thirty this morning. Our bodies obviously adjusting to the missing hour. Whilst we ate breakfast, Angela had the pleasure of watching the man from the van opposite cut his toenails whilst sitting on his step. Nice. Despite a late start we were keen to get on with the day. After buying a baguette and some jambon sec (dry cured ham) we stopped off at the tourist office to buy a cycling map of the island. 

All quiet when we cycled out of town at twelve thirty our lunch baguettes in our bag we pedalled along the cycleway that lead to Le Chateau d'Oleron.

We passed by many oystermen's huts on stilts, one a smart restaurant busy with lunch service. The tide was out exposing the sandbanks.

As we crossed over a bridge at the end of one of the channels the tumbledown huts made us think of the homes we'd seen whilst cycling in Vietnam, suspended above a tributary of the Mekong river. 

Le Chateau d'Oleron, was an interesting town. Dubbed the capital of the oyster world, most of the oystermen's huts are now workshops or galleries for local artists and craft people.

The citadel, some parts dating back to 1630 was impressive.

We walked around it, stopping at a seating area on the ramparts to eat our lunch. Fort Boyard and the Ile de Re could be seen in the distance. Old photographs were on display all around the site.

A picture of a couple taken in 1910 caught our eye. That's some hat madam. 

In no hurry we cycled out of the town and along the coast, not really knowing where we were heading. But we didn't care. It was another hot afternoon and we were in no rush. We were in oyster country. Everywhere we looked it was all about these molluscs. Large lorries with throaty engines passed us by and large mounds of oyster shells like snow peaks stood in yards. Realising we needed to head inland we consulted our map. Oh good, there's a town coming up. Cake time. Alas no. It was Monday. The shops were closed. As we cycled out of town and through the pine trees, we could see the green of new ferns pushing their way up through the crisp bronze remnants of last year's growth. The colour green is described as the colour of life, and the new ferns confirmed this. As we arrived on the outskirts of St. Trojan les Bains in the heat of the afternoon we'd thought we'd seen a mirage. A small supermarket appeared. By now our taste for cake had been exchanged for ice cream. Oh dear they only sell packs of four. Not a problem. Angela could only manage one and a half but John easily polished off the rest. Well we had been out for five hours, of which we were cycling for over three. We needed the calories! A quick stop for Angela at the privy on the quayside in order to save Marge's facilities and we were back.

No time to rest it was straight in to preparing our evening meal. We have noticed that we very rarely smell food being cooked from the other vans. John thinks the people in them might just eat salad. They don't look like salad eaters. Look at the a**e on that one. Rude Marge. We however cooked up mince, onions, courgette, green, yellow and red pepper. Split the mix in two. Added oregano to one. Spag bol. The rest in the fridge to make a curry. Job done. 

Tomorrow we will move on. So, this evening we walked along the promenade and down on to the beach.

The tide long gone exposing a vast stretch of sand. We walked along it our shoes crunching on already broken shells.

On a bank by a nearby lake we saw a pair of coypus, though only one stayed to have its photo taken, large semiaquatic rodents. They are quite common along this coast. As we walked back to Marge our eyes caught sight of a large nest high up in a tree. We deduced it was probably an old hornet's nest.

After a sunny day with the temperature once again hitting 21c we know tomorrow will not be as nice and are wondering if we need to move a little further south before a cold front arrives on Thursday. Whatever weather comes our way, we'll just go with it won't we Marge?