Chateaux hunting in the Charente

La Rochefoucauld Chateau

As 2026, and life in general, hurtles by at an ever-increasing pace, last weekend gave us a welcome pause and time to reconnect.

Gallerie 16, Chef Boutonne

Saturday morning saw me giving a brief talk about the history of the Château de Javarzay at a local art gallery, and while this may seem a little close to work, it actually mentally prepared me for this coming weekend’s opening of the château. My mind could retrieve the knowledge stored over winter, dust it off and make sure all was where it should be. 

Gallerie 16, Chef Boutonne

Gallerie 16, in the heart of Chef Boutonne, is a wonderful venue and so much more for the community than just an art gallery. As well as showcasing the works of local artists, the gallery, run by a dynamic woman who is as passionate as I am about promoting our area, holds regular events and talks in its delightful setting. It was an honour for me to be invited along to share my local knowledge with a welcoming and appreciative audience.

Opening weekend festivities at the Chateau de Javarzay, Chef-Boutonne

This year, the opening of the château tourist season will be vibrant as the colours and costumes of Venice and its carnival come to life. The opening weekend usually marks the start of my working year but not this year. My role at the Chef Boutonne council has evolved into a full-time position, splitting my time between the library and the château, as well as other communication tasks, including social media posts and event posters, working in a dynamic and supportive team of creative women. It really is a dream role for me.

Hedgerow blossoms in March

Sunday proved to be just as awakening. The weather was perfect for a bike ride, so we set off for a 50 km châteaux hunt, in the Charente. The frost and snow of early January, that were followed by storms and flooding in February, have given way to a lush and vibrant March. The wildflowers in the verges: cowslips, wild daffodils, aconites and snake’s head fritillaries, seem more prolific than ever this year, and the first hedgerow blossoms (that will hopefully give way to sloes in autumn) are stunning to look at and alive with bees. 

La Rochette

It was a delight to be out and about, butterflies trying to keep pace with me one minute, bird song breaking through my thoughts another. We paused in La Rochette to admire the turreted château and the Romanesque Church, with special mention going to its stone carvings and gilded altar. Our destination was La Rochefoucauld, which is home to a very impressive Renaissance château whose family have links with the Château de Javarzay. I hadn’t realised it would be open for visits, so that treat will have to wait for another day, but we did have time to explore the town and learn about its history thanks to the Terra Aventura geocaching app, and treat ourselves to a flan from a boulangerie - that was open on a Sunday afternoon, in rural France, in March. What a win!

The Romanesque church, La Rochette, Charente

While cycling has still featured to get to and from work this winter (when it’s not been stormy), our last 50 km day on the bikes was five months ago, when we were in the Creuse for a few days in October. While the weather isn’t entirely to blame for this, work and two trips back to England have played their part too, almost half a year without a cycling day trip adventure is crazy. I hadn’t appreciated how much I’d missed it, and it was a real tonic for the mind and body. Luckily, we have a few mini adventures in the pipeline this spring.

Free museum Sundays

Free museum Sundays

Free museum Sundays 

 

On the first Sunday of the month, many national museums in France offer free entry to all visitors, something we have been making use of since Ed was much younger. I will admit we rather gave up on museum visits for several years, but working in one has reignited my passion once more, and Adrian is happy to indulge me. 

 

It is worth mentioning that not all museums are national ones and without the financial support from the government, locally or independently run places (like our little museum at the Château de Javarzay) do not have the ability to offer free entries. There are also often seasonal restrictions in the busy periods during the height of summer, or for winter closures.

 

Yesterday we were up early and on the road to La Rochelle by nine o’clock, marvelling at the delicate pastel colours of the sky, a much-needed improvement to the low cloud and mist that has consumed our skies recently. The roads were quiet, and it felt like it was just us and deer in the fields who were out and about. There was an excitement to escaping for a day out that instantly lifted the weight of claustrophobia, caused by the rubbish weather and our lack of plans for 2024.

Île de Ré, by bike

 

Île de Ré, by bike

The morning was spent cycling on the Île de Ré, our first visit to this special island on the Atlantic coast since the beginning of 2020. Savouring every memory, our pace was gentle and relaxed as we enjoyed the fresh air, sea views and freedom. 

 

Our route took us to the pretty port of La Flotte, where narrow cobbled lanes weave between back-to-back cottages with white walls and green shutters, from the palest mint to a dark olive. I also noticed the trendy grey that is seeping into fashion all over is now adding its hues to the fifty shades of green found on the island houses. 

 

As we cut inland and explored new-to-us bike paths, we saw pheasants and the first hint of yellow to the buds on the frothy fronds of the mimosa trees. Colours caught my eye everywhere, from the bright reds of the camelias to the yellow of the forsythia. The island might get the full brunt of the Atlantic weather, which left our faces glowing a healthy pink, but the early season flowers bloom here weeks before they do at home.

Île de Ré, January 2024

 

On the southern coast we climbed dunes and watched sea wading birds and herons, as we breathed in the unique scent of salty air, listening to the cry of the gulls and the crashing of waves. Even the concrete German blockhouse defences now have a vibrancy that masks their dark side, thanks to colourful graffiti. 

 

Lunch was a picnic on a sunny bench, sheltered from the wind with the view of a church spire and surrounded by parcels of tidy vines, already pruned for the 2024 season. It was the perfect recharge for the batteries and even the uphill push, into a biting headwind, on the return crossing of the bridge couldn’t shift the smile on my ruddy-cheeked face.

 

Maritime museum, La Rochelle

Maritime Museum, La Rochelle

The afternoon took us into La Rochelle for a visit to the Maritime Museum, one of the national museums that opens its doors for free on the first Sunday of the month (except in July and August), saving us 16€ on two adult entry tickets.

 

It is a split location museum, with exhibits in two large halls and (more excitingly) three boats moored in the harbour. We began on the fishing trawler the Angoumois, before exploring the tug/pilot boat the St Gilles and then the star of the show France I, a meteorological vessel that was fascinating from the engine rooms all the way up to the bridge and the captain’s quarters. It was so much fun to climb, to pretend, to push buttons and to peek into life at sea, from the safety of a moored vessel.

 

Like all good museums it warrants a second visit as although the website suggested two hours for a visit, I’d recommend a full afternoon as there is so much to see. We hardly made a dent on the indoor sections, especially the history of the port of La Rochelle from the Middle Ages, through English rule, the Richelieu siege and on to the present day – where there was a lot to read and take in. There was also an interactive exhibition on climate change that deserved far more time than we had left in our day. Aside from climbing around onboard, Adrian was in his element at the current exhibition of Olympic sailing boats, as La Rochelle will host the sailing events this summer.

 

On the drive home I was in a reflective mood, inspired no doubt by a good day out and a fabulous sunset. As someone who spends most of the year checking our museums entry figures and comparing them to previous years, I asked myself if I felt guilty about getting free entry. Honestly, no. It helps us and many others to discover places we might not have otherwise visited and if they can afford to offer it, I’m happy to take them up on their generosity. I will certainly be recommending the Maritime Museum to our visitors this summer.

 

I have updated my annual French public and school holiday dates blog to include a bit about free museum Sundays and the European Heritage weekend that also offers free or reduced entry to many museums and other cultural sites, and this year will fall on 21^st and 22^nd September. 

Happy exploring.

 

 

  

Lazy Sunday, lost in books

A selection of soul-soothing books

Lazy Sunday, Lost in Books

I will admit that since finishing at the library, I’ve been a bit lost without the routine we’d slipped easily into over the summer and I’ve found myself hiding away from reality, in the pages of books. My mood hasn’t been helped by the weather taking a seasonal change for the worse, where the wind has enhanced the colder temperatures and hampered our efforts on the bikes. 

 

Mulled wine

The heating has been fired up, the first batch of mince pies have been made (and eaten) and the mulled wine has been blended; red wine, Cognac, sloe port, cinnamon sticks, clove-studded clementines, a lemon and ginger teabag and brown sugar (to taste). We also indulged in our first tartiflette on Friday evening; an oven baked potato, onion and melted Reblochon cheese dish that is our ultimate winter comfort food treat. You can find my recipe here.

 

It’s not been any easier for Adrian to adjust to the changes in our routine, as having gone from a hectic work schedule all summer, his diary is looking almost as empty as mine. As is often the case when you are self-employed, it’s either feast or famine.

 

We have both been drawn to books promising adventures and challenges, using them as our escape, or maybe to find our way? I’ve been reading up on the Chemin de Saint Jacques Camino routes in France, from books I took out from the library. As I practice my French reading, I’ve been learning the history of this ancient pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain. By following any of the marked routes that wind their way to St Jean-Pied-du-Port in the Pyrenees, the possibilities for cycle adventures to explore the historic towns and churches of France, are almost endless.

 

Two Wheels and a Will by Colin Hunter

Adrian made a rather shocking discovery while reading Two Wheels and a Will by Colin Hunter, a travel memoir set around an extreme Pyrenean cycling challenge. According to the author, it turns out that the toughest climb in France isn’t in the Alps, the Hautes Pyrenees or even Le Mont Ventoux (1910m), but the pretty much unknown Col d’Arnostéguy (1239m), in the Pays Basque. This is an area we keep returning to with our bikes and home to the first mountain pass I ever attempted, the Col d’Ispeguy, that crosses from France to Spain. This is a gradual climb of 6%, over its eight kilometres, with no nasty surprises, just stunning scenery and a bar at the top. I’ve climbed it four times and it remains my favourite.

The face of pain climbing the Col d'Arnostéguy

I now know that not all cols in the Pays Basque are equal. Last year, high on the adrenaline rush that came with conquering several Haute Pyrenean cols on our Bromptons, including the Col du Soulor (1471m), Col d’Aubisque (1709m) and the Col du Tourmalet (2115m), we spent a couple of nights in the Pays Basque on our way home. With one full day to enjoy ourselves, we set off on a circuit from St Jean-Pied-du-Port, following the Camino route towards Spain. The smile on my face as I got to dip my toes once more on this pilgrimage route was almost as big as the lunch packed in Adrian’s saddle bag, but as the narrow road began to climb, my smile vanished. We climbed and climbed. My breath ragged, my body ready to give up, my mind losing all my mantras and coherent thoughts. With a maximum of gradient of 35% and a fifteen kilometre stretch that regularly hit between 25% and 30%, with little or no flat or downhill sections to rest and recover, it was brutal - it was the infamous Col d’Arnostéguy. I am in total agreement with it being the toughest climb in France and although I might need persuading to tackle it again, I’d head back to the Basque with my bike anytime. I can’t wait to read this book for myself.

 

Voyage le Long de la Charente by Serge Sanchez

Closer to home, but no less exciting is another travel memoir I’m reading, in French, borrowed from the library. Voyage Le Long de la Charente, avec un chat, un poney, et un dauphin (ou pas), by Serge Sanchez, is his journey following the Charente River from its source to the Atlantic coast. This is a local river to us and the familiarity of the places he visits makes up for the unfamiliarity of some of the new (to me) vocabulary. Serge is a journalist, and from the beginning of the book, his humour and honesty had me hooked, especially when he explained the rather unusual title: A journey along the Charente, with a cat, a pony and a dolphin (or not). Desperate to improve his fortunes by writing a best-seller (unlike his previous book that sold only twenty-eight copies), he discovered books featuring cats tended to sell well, and ponies and dolphins ranked second and third. My only disappointment with this book (so far) is that despite the river Charente having a marked cycle way (La Flow Vélo) for most of its length, Serge chose to travel by car. It has certainly given me food for thought about cycling adventures we could do following our local rivers from their sources. 

 

Under the Mistletoe by Sue Moorcroft

Not all my recent reads have been cycling or French travel related. Sue Moorcroft’s Christmas novels are one of my secret guilty pleasures at this time of year. In real life I don’t do snow or cold, and I’m not much of a Christmas fan either, but if there is one thing that will warm my winter mood and give me back a bit of my sparkle, it’s a winter escape to Sue’s fictional village, Middledip. In Under the Mistletoe, I was able to get completely wrapped up in the emotional battles Laurel and her family are trying to cope with, as the Christmas preparations in the village hit full speed. There are difficult decisions and lots of soul-searching for many of the characters, especially Laurel, as the past she has tried so hard to forget, catches up with her. Set against a snowy backdrop, this book has passion, emotion, family loyalties and community spirit that certainly warmed me up as I read it. I didn’t want this book to end.

 

If you haven’t yet discovered Middledip, you are missing a real treat, but if you are quick, Under the Mistletoe is priced at only 99p on kindle UK, until the end of November.

What all these books, and the others I’ve read recently, have done, is to help clear the doldrums from my head and for that I thank the authors, who maybe don’t realise the difference they can make.

Lazy Sunday in France with author Alison Morton

Author Alison Morton by the Loire, #LazySundayinFrance

This week saw the release of book two in the Mélisende Thriller series by local Poitou-Charentes author Alison Morton (read my review here), and I’m delighted that Alison is joining me today with a #LazySundayinFrance guest post. 

 

Not only has Alison given us an insight into a typical Sunday for her main character Mel, she has also let us see how she spends her Sundays at home in the north of the Deux-Sèvres department.

 

Double Pursuit by Alison Morton, book two in the Mélisende thriller series

Lazy Sunday, eh?

 

The heroine in my new series, Mélisende des Pittones, known as Mel to her friends, would be up at seven (a lie-in from her weekday six a.m.), go for a run in her home woods in Poitou, shower, eat a healthy breakfast of eggs, yoghurt and fruit. Next, she’d leap up from the table, then cycle or walk to see a friend for a chat over a cup of coffee, eat a salad lunch, catch up on her emails and social media, help her mother in the garden, read a book, go out with friends later, probably including dancing at some time in the evening. If she has a boyfriend/lover at the time, she’ll spend the rest of the evening/night with him, and we know what that means. This will re-energise her for the rest of the week.

 

Poitou countryside, home to Mélisende des Pittones, photo Alison Morton

I feel exhausted reading that, but she is just thirty and as a member of the French Army, pretty fit. I’m several decades older than her and my British Army days are a distant memory. A bad back and dodgy foot put me a world away from Mel’s. 

 

So, back to reality… A cup of tea in bed about eight-ish, half-wakes me up, then I read on my Kindle, check my phone, get totally diverted by some cat video or weird historical post on Facebook. After dragging myself out of my pit, I bumble through a shower and stagger to the kitchen for coffee and muesli, sometimes toast. 

Alison's geraniums

 

I look out of the window and experience guilt. The garden is a mess; burnt grass, weeds in the herb garden, shrivelled up flower heads. On with the old jeans and top. Down to the basement for the old trainers dotted with paint dribbles (euphemistically called my gardening shoes). A quick whip round with the secateurs deadheading geraniums and a few weeds pulled out between the herbs. Bash my head on a branch of the olive tree, but the autumn sun shows up how bountiful the olives are this year.

 

Oh, there’s my neighbour, son of a farmer. We chat. He’s a proper French gardener with a beautiful allotment-like vegetable garden laid out in neat rows; strawberries, beans, tomatoes, herbs, potatoes, leeks, lettuce, courgettes – the whole banana. Well, no bananas; we are in the Deux-Sèvres, not the Côte d’Azur.

 

Out comes his wife to join in the chat and we solve all the world’s problems. Easy.

 

Lunch is home-cooked accompanied by a glass of white wine; red at midday makes me fall asleep. Afterwards, we might indulge in an amble through the local fields. If it’s raining, and there really isn’t a good film on the television, I go down to our basement office and sigh at the state of it. I promptly turn round, switch off the light and go back upstairs. If it’s not too chilly or too hot, I sit on the patio and read a book. 

 

Sometimes we go out! It’s been a bit awkward for eating lunch in a restaurant during the pandemic, but a stroll along the Loire or through a château town like Montreuil-Bellay makes a pleasant afternoon. Simple things like watching the ripple of water or running your hand over stone worked five hundred years ago and warmed by sunshine have a lot going for them.

In the evening, I may type a few words of the latest book, but I tend to leave that until Monday morning. Time for another glass of wine. As we say here, c’est le weekend!

 

Lazy Sunday in France for French Village Diaries 

©alisonmorton2021

 

Double Pursuit by Alison Morton

You might also like to read:

My review of Double Pursuit

My review of Double Identity 

My ‘From the Writing Desk’ interview with Alison Morton.

 

You can connect with Alison, or follow her, on her thriller site, Facebook author page, Twitter, writing blog, Instagram, Goodreads, Amazon and sign up to her newsletter.        

 

 

Buying links for Double Pursuit 

Kindle 

Kobo 

Apple 

B&N Nook 

Books2Read 

Lazy Sunday Flapjacks

Flapjacks for cyclists

Lazy Sunday Flapjacks

When you wake up to yet another rainy day in May, a lazy Sunday seems the only option. My usual distraction for dull, damp days would be to bake a cake, but having already made a carrot cake this week, I decided on a batch of cycle-fuel flapjacks, that I can freeze. The recipe was inspired by the one from the Global Cycling Network, but I’ve tweaked it for our tastes and reduced the sugar a little, as the mashed banana makes it quite sweet. 

 

Ingredients for Flapjacks

150g coconut oil (I sometimes use half butter, half coconut oil)

75g Agave syrup (or golden syrup)

75g brown sugar

170g oats

75g walnuts (or mixed nuts)

75g mixed dried fruits (today I used dates, goji berries and apricots)

1 ripe banana mashed

 

Method

Melt the sugar, oil and syrup in a saucepan over a medium heat.

In a large mixing bowl add all dry ingredients, mix in the mashed banana and then coat everything in the oil/syrup and mix well.

 

Push it into a lined baking tin and cook at 170º for half an hour, or until golden brown on top.

 

Leave to cool, cut into squares and enjoy (ideally) on a bike ride.

 

Comfort food, meatballs

While the flapjacks were cooking, I focussed my efforts on tonight’s dinner and the sauce to go with my homemade meatballs. Meatballs are our go-to special meal, often served for birthdays and celebrations, but tonight we’ll have them just because they are warm and comforting and cheer us up. My little burst of kitchen activity kept me occupied and filled the house with warm, sugary aromas, but did mean that by early afternoon dinner was done and the weather still hadn’t improved enough to get out on the bikes. We braved the wind to walk the dog, but that just reinforced the belief that despite some sunny spells, today wasn’t a day to take the bikes out, so I might as well curl up with a good book and a flapjack. 

 

If this was a video it would be wild and windy!

May shouldn’t be a month when we need to resort to comfort food, but then the warm leggings and chunky knit jumper, that I thought had been packed into the drawer to be forgotten about for the coming months, have also been dug out once more. I really can’t wait for shorts and t-shirt weather, when all meals are enjoyed in the garden. The hazelnut tree in the courtyard, bowing and bouncing from side to side in the wild winds, was enough of a sign that eating outside wouldn’t be much fun today. A quick walk around the orchard also showed a disappointing sight; the damage of late frosts, cold winds and not enough sunshine this spring means there are very few cherries on our trees this year. I hope the plums, apples and pears have coped better.

 

https://www.gouvernement.fr/info-coronavirus

Covid-19 updates

This week will see many changes to life in France as the second of the four-stage plan to get back to normal comes into effect on 19^th May. The main points are that café, bar and restaurant terraces, that have been closed for over six months, will be reopening, as will museums, theatres and cinemas, and the overnight curfew will come into effect at 21h, rather than 19h. Let’s hope there is an improvement in the weather so we can at least enjoy a coffee and a spot of people-watching from a café terrace, or an evening bike ride as the sun begins to set.  

France has reached the magic twenty million mark for people who have received at least one vaccine and Adrian will soon be joining them. The opening of a four-day gap between courses for him, enabled me to book an appointment for his first vaccination this week, with the second one in the diary for later in June. As youngsters under fifty, Ed and I are only eligible to book a last-minute slot for the following twenty-four hours, and despite regular searching for the last four days, there has been nothing at all within 100km of us. Refreshing the page has become a bit of an obsession but I’ll keep checking until successful. 

May this week bring sunshine and freedom.

Lockdown diaries, day twenty-four, sunny Sunday

Our village church in the winter sunshine

Day twenty-four, Sunday 22^nd November 2020

Sunny Sunday 

Yesterday may have been a busy and productive day, but today was much more leisurely and even included the luxury of a lazy lie in. Watching the colours from the sunrise changing from orange to gold as they moved around the bedroom, gave a hint to the glorious weather we had to look forward to. Lunch was once again in the garden, and our little Robin was back to serenade us in the sun. I really don’t ever remember being aware of the Robin’s song before this week, despite how distinctive it is, and we’ve always had Robins visit the garden and potager. Lockdown and life will seem much brighter if the weather continues to let us eat outside and the Robin continues to sing.

 

What we did manage to achieve today was the fiddly little finishing touches to the rooms we’ve decorated. Washing the light fittings and rehanging them, putting the door handles back on and having a tidy up of all the bits and pieces. During the last lockdown we had a big clean-up of the spare bedroom, setting it aside for use as Covid-19 contamination suite. Thankfully it has so far not been needed, but what has happened is that it’s become a decorating storeroom. Rolls of wallpaper, tins of paint, sanding blocks, dust sheets and paintbrushes have spread themselves out all over the floor (out of sight, out of mind) and multiplied, I’m sure. Armed with some cardboard boxes, I sought to bring order to the chaos this morning and cleared enough floor space to store two of the bikes in there as well. It’s still not going to be much good if we do need to isolate one of us, but by moving the bikes, I’ve found a cosy indoor space for the fuchsias tonight. They are still in full bloom and look fabulous, but with overnight temperatures dropping to zero, they need a bit of protection.

Living Magazine, delivery by bike

Living Magazine 

This afternoon we set off for our hour of exercise on the bikes and combined it with delivering the latest edition of the local English language magazine to the Brits who live in the village. Most of the houses were within our one-kilometre radius, but some of the deliveries out to the hamlets stretched that a bit. I am not one to bend the rules, but as I have agreed with the Mairie to do the occasional lockdown check-in with some of the older residents, who just so happen to live at the further reaches of the village, we combined the two. Hopefully finding a new magazine in their postbox, and my little note letting them know I’m thinking of them, will put a smile on their faces. It was also nice to chat with all those we met, out enjoying their gardens or a local walk in the sunshine, too. It doesn’t get much more exciting than face to face chit chat, with six different people, all in the same day. 

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day thirteen

Croissants from the boulangerie

Day thirteen

An unlucky number for some and sadly our luck seems to have run out in terms of sunshine, mild weather and blue sky. Today has been more grey, cold and with a frisky wind from the east. Time to forget the garden and huddle together indoors for a lazy Sunday. #lazysundayinfrance

Paris-Brest, Tarte-aux-fruits et éclair-au café

Tasty treats

It’s not been all doom and gloom though as just a peek through the boulangerie window this morning was enough to put a smile on my face, so I thought I’d share some of their deliciousness with you too.

Easter treats from the boulangerie

Hooping

Too much cake however, and not enough cycling, isn’t going to help maintain my almost 50-year-old form, but thankfully I have my hoop. Internet exercising seems to be quite the trend at the moment, so I’d like to invite you to come hoop with me. I think confinement madness my have arrived, but we all need a laugh in these tough times, so I hope this puts a smile on your face today.

Video filmed by Adrian Brown and Ed Brown.

Edited by Ed Brown

Music composed and performed by Ed Brown

Thank you for all your encouraging comments on my daily diary posts of life in lockdown, it is lovely to know you are enjoying them.

Stay indoors, stay safe.