In which Sid and Doris take another ferry to visit Rochefort, the naval centre in the time of Louis XIV.
In the night it rained – but not on us, ha ha – and we set off into a cool misty morning on the shadowy forest roads. The vines are behind us for now. We take back roads up to Soulac sur Mer which is an almost offensively cute town awash with tourists.
Even the graffiti is (are) cute.
The town has all sorts of cyclists. There is a French route down their west coast, so we see some people with panniers and maps. There is a healthy hire business around here so there are nervous people on a bike for the first time in years, quite a few of them wobbling towards us. Many of us are taking a coastal bike path from Soulac to Le Verdon, through the pines behind the beach to the ferry port.
This area was a heavily fortified part of the German Atlantic wall, maybe 100 blockhouses on the Gironde peninsula. To supply those they built a railway, the rails are still there and we run alongside.
To our amazement the tracks are still being used but instead of rations and ammunition carry tourists through the woods. Surely conveyance of the day?
Bordeaux was liberated in August 1944 but in common with La Rochelle, Brest and other areas on the west coast the Gironde was left to the Germans. They were not attacked and in turn they did not destroy the port facilities. The allies arranged for electricity and food to be available to make civilian life more tolerable. These pockets mostly surrendered in May 1945 when Berlin fell.
However Royan, where our ferry lands us, was destroyed by Operation Venerable under French General de Larminat. The allied air forces and artillery under French command used napalm and explosives on the town causing about 1,500 civilian deaths. When we got off the ferry and rode through Royan we saw no rue Genrale de Larminat.
We were actually pretty lucky with the ferry timing – as we rolled up to the quayside the ferry was coming in. We joined a queue of pedestrian ticket buyers and watched as the ferry docked and the ticket seller engaged people in an exploration of the many options open to them.
“I can see you are both not of working age. Can I interest you in the off-peak special? If you cross at least three times a week but fewer than five times with your outbound journey between 9.50 and 11.10 and your return journey not between 16.45 and 17:55 this could save you €2.15 each a month.”
“Are you a family group? If you have two adults and two children of whom the youngest is at least five years old – which means that their fifth birthday could be today – then you will save €1.50 and if you add on your third child and this lady who may I presume is their grandmother with the Senior Citizen’s Discount then even if you pay full price for this gentleman who is maybe an uncle you will save an extra €3.50 unless you want to come back after the end of August.”
[It’s too easy to write this stuff. Apologies – D. Oh yes, and the good news is that we did eventually catch the ferry but we might have been a bit offensively direct to the ticket seller. Tickets. Us. Now. Give. Here. Money. ]
Royan is now a seaside town as we can see by the presence of Fiat beach cars, Meharis and Minis and the superabundance of white and navy painted buildings. It also claims to be the Capital of the Belle-Epoque. Alas poor Paris, one by one your titles are being eroded.
Our love affair with the French language continued on our route through Nancras. The word Ouvert may mean the same as Ferme as we explained to a French family who pulled up at this boulangerie also expecting to buy bread goods. Shut, shut, shut. We have a new song:
Oh the shops are shut
And the Presse is shut
And the bar is shut
And the tabac’s shut Etc.
Still, only a few miles to a supermarket au rondpoint with everything that will put the shut shop out of business, like being open [and having a set of open-air washing machines so you can faire the linge while buying Actual Food From An Open Shop. How cool is that?! I didn’t get a picture so this is one from the web to add to my collection of #vendingmachinephotos – D].
And not much further on a bread vending machine. [I did get a picture of this one 🙂 ]
We rather suspect that Le Tour has been through Trizay as we find hay bale sculptures.
Sid and Doris would of course have used the only surviving French transporter bridge but it is being restored. Essentially this is a very large twin gantry crane that carries a platform like a ferry deck from one loading bay to another. Built 1900 and abandoned in 1967, used again in the 1990s it will be ready for use again soon. The picture here is from this web site as a) it is surrounded by auxilliary scaffolding at the moment and b) the obvious place to take this photo from is the top of the viaduct, and we are not that suicidal.Getting from Vendays to Rochefort means crossing the Gironde, about ten kilometres by ferry and crossing the Charente, about two kilometres by bridge and a hard shoulder that was perhaps the width of a chair to cycle in. The last time we crossed such a bridge with so little provision for bikes was leaving Belgrade.
On the left the transporter bridge and on the right the viaduct. One small compensation: this is about the biggest hill we have seen today.
We enjoy ourselves thinking about the competition that was won by this bridge.
“Pierre, I have some good news and some bad news.”
“Oh yes, Henri, tell me more.”
“Well, the good news is that you have won the competition.”
“Oh yes, and the bad news?”
“The bad news is that they have lost all the detailed technical drawings that you submitted.”
“Merde alors, so I have to recreate them all?”
“No, I have some more good news. You know that Meccano model that my nephew constructed to show what the bridge could look like when built…?”
Rochefort was the centre of Louis XIV’s navy. They built ships, repaired them and victualled them. There is a rope works (as at Chatham). A square topped signal tower. The town is very handsome with wide streets and squares and larvelly creamy stone houses. There is a bath house: cleanliness brings health.
We find a bar with a beer happy hour, which discovery slightly disrupts our evening but not to worry too much as tomorrow is a holiday for us in Rochefort.