Angoulins

This morning we felt a little sad about leaving Taussant. But we knew we'd pass this way again so it was nous reviendrons rather than au revoir. Late last night some cycle tourists arrived and pitched their tent on the grass area in the nearby car park. The light of their head torches the only sign of their presence. This morning John was horrified to see they were young, in their twenties and riding electric bikes. Sacrilege! One wore a very smart jacket and brown leather work shoes. Cycle touring attire has gone upmarket since we last did it.  

Right Marge. Time to hit the road again. Before travelling too far we needed to off load our grey water as the tank was full. Angela spotted an industrial area where we could see some drains alongside the kerb on one side of the road. Water deposited Angela turned the key to restart Marge. Nothing. Again nothing. And again. Her dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree. Now what's wrong Marge? Fourth time she fired up. Stop doing this please!

Today were driving to just below La Rochelle. We needed to cover a few miles so we could stop again for a few days somewhere further up towards Cherbourg.

 Lunch at a picnic area, allowing an hour to eat and rest then Marge sprung into life, but her engine management light stayed on. Great! We'd spoken to an English couple last night who'd experienced their engine management light coming on also whilst driving in the Pyrenees which had reassured us. Fingers crossed Marge that when we return home and plug you into the computer at the garage there is nothing majorly wrong with you. 

After five hours of driving, wondering what Marge had planned next, we eventually arrived at Gadiou Jerome's oyster farm at Angoulins. He allows space for eight vans to park in his car park. Marge was number seven. What a day it had been.

We were glad to walk out to the tiny port of Lorion where the tide was nearly at its highest making access across to the beach huts a little difficult. Then we sat and looked out across the bay, the early evening sun warmed us which we were grateful for as a south westerly wind blew cool.

We took a selfie. How lucky were we? We talked about our planned cycle touring trip along this coast later in the year. It would give us something to start planning upon our return home. Angela loves the Loire Valley. She loves the Atlantic coast as well. Fortunately, both are fairly flat. We have visited much of France and are now beginning to see which areas we prefer to revisit. 

Van number eight has now arrived. The parking is perfect. Quiet, with very nice views. Along the coast we can see a rainbow of kites belonging to the surfers.

The sunset over the oyster farm could not compare with those of the last few nights, but we were still pleased to watch the sky turn blue to grey to pink as the sun went down. Tomorrow we will move a little further north. Please behave Marge!

Taussant (Day 4)

Happy Easter everyone. Easter or not, our neighbours were not spared John's continued monitoring. Buy yourself a bra woman! Angela tried to quiet him. Don't worry she can't understand me. I think she can. 

Today we had decided to stay local. First, we needed a baguette, but by the time we'd done our washing the little supermarket in the village had sold out, so we tried the épicerie. Our luck was in. Price was dependant on weight. Nearly four euros. It better be tasty. It was. The little épicerie fascinated us with its range of organic fruit and vegetables. 

Bread bought we walked along the seafront towards the town of Andernos-les-Bains. A cool wind blew across the bay taking the heat of the sun away.

We found a sheltered spot to eat our lunch, then sat a while as we've done these last few lunchtimes talking, reading, observing. It took us a while to realise we'd been sharing the spot with some busy ants. Then we took a slow walk back to Marge along the road that ran behind the beach where we were protected from the wind and warmed by the heat of the afternoon sun. Upon our return Marge was having a hot flush! The temperature inside her was around 40c. Quick, give her some air! Hey Marge, have the neighbours left their van? We have a couple next to us who only seem to go out to walk their dog. What's that all about? We are sited less than fifty metres from the beach, the weather is beautiful, why would you want to sit inside your van in a parking area? There's nowt so strange as folk. 

Tonight, is our last night at Taussant. We were keen to once again see the sun go down. We shall miss the little aire, and even the six other van owners who have also been here all Easter whilst others have come and gone. We are sorry that we shall miss the cooking of the giant Easter Monday omelette outside the restaurant on the green. The quirky tradition harks back to Napoleonic times. As we walked out this evening two swallows sat waiting also to view the sunset. They made us smile. Summer was on its way.

Taussant (Day 3)

This morning a tangerine sun welcomed us to the new day. We were in no rush to head out, showering and doing some hand washing first. Angela noticed after her shower her hair was looking a little greyer than when she left home. Look what you've done to me Marge. Quick someone post out some of that two-pound hair dye from Wilkinson's. Cheapskate, everyone knows that's made out of old teabags. O.K. Marge, don't tell everyone. 

Around noon, baguette and cheese stowed in our rucksack we set off to cycle to Claouey. The weather was beautiful once again and the cycle way busy with families enjoying a ride out on this Easter weekend. We were glad to be cycling away from the main road as the traffic heading towards Cap Ferret was busy. 

Claouey was very busy. We found a seat on the seafront and ate lunch.

A young woman sat nearby stretched out like a fifties model. Her legs covered in mud from wading in the shallows of a receding tide. We nicknamed her Miss Mudlark 2022. Nearby the seafood restaurants were in full service.

Plates of oysters and Fruit de Mer made us salivate. Food porn over we settled on the beach to read and observe for a couple of hours. Not all woman look like that John. If Marge was with us, she would have been concerned the young lady might sunburn her, well you know. On the bench next to us, three elderly ladies sat. Two of them very elderly, John thought one might be a hundred. They too observed the beach goers with interest. 

As we left Claouey the cars were still heading to the beaches of Cap Ferret. We have really enjoyed once again cycling along the Atlantic coast and discussed perhaps flying to Biarritz with our Brompton bicycles and cycling the Atlantic coast route back up to Cherbourg to catch the ferry back to Poole. It's become our number one trip to look into. 

Early evening we cooked pizzas on our outside grill with Mr & Mrs Blackbird accompanied by a confident robin waiting patiently for any crumbs that might come their way.

As the sun went down the sky was ablaze. Nearby the moon floated. We could hear Spanish music drifting down from the tapas restaurant. A perfect end to yet another enjoyable day.

Taussant (Day 2)

As the aire slowly came to life this morning John cast a critical eye over our neighbours. That man's just emptied his waste water into the same watering can he's now using for his fresh water! Look at that woman brushing that dog. I hope she's not going to brush her hair with that brush after. Listen to those women talking, they're like a flock of chickens. I've seen it all now.

A dog in a rucksack. They're taking it with them on the scooter. How's the wife going to fit on? Leave the neighbours alone. You tell him Marge. 

The sun out, we packed some food for lunch and set out. Today is Good Friday, hot cross bun anyone? We knew we had no chance of finding one here. First stop the tourist office to pick up a map.

Then we cycled along the cycle path to Biganos. By ten to one we still hadn't found anywhere to buy a baguette. Panic! Then the flashing neon sign of a boulangerie caught our eye. Just in the nick of time. The bakery was about to close for lunch. 

Our destination was the Port of Biganos. Not a port as such, but a small tidal inlet with pretty huts surrounded by nature. It proved to be a popular lunch spot. All the picnic tables were occupied so we sat at a bench in the dappled shade.  We stayed a couple of hours at the port, reading and people watching. The temperature was 24 c. Beautiful. More weather like this please. 

Cycling back to Taussant we managed to become a little lost. But it didn't matter, we knew we were heading in the right direction. By the time we were reunited with Marge we'd clocked up around thirty miles since leaving. Not bad for a couple of oldies! 

Most of the vans at the aire were with us last night. Two new arrivals came in early evening. The first a huge six-wheeler, described by one of the French women as an auto bus. The wife did the usual standing behind the van whilst her husband tried hard not to kill her. If he'd hit her all would probably have been well. The van would probably have bounced off her huge pneumatic breasts. The second arrival, a silly old git who didn't have a clue how to drive his large van reversed in next to us almost taking Marge out. Everyone watching was aghast. We were horrified. Angela is convinced he'll catch his back end on Marge when he swings out to leave tomorrow, so we might have to stick around a while. 

As another day comes to an end, we watched the sun with a strange bank of sea fog in front of it sink. Our trip is like an hour glass. The sand trickling at first and then slipping away as our journey nears its end. Ten days to go Marge and lots still to do and see.