Book review of One Winter at the French Chalet by Mandy Baggot

One Winter at the French Chalet by Mandy Baggot

One Winter at the French Chalet by Mandy Baggot

Things aren’t going well for travel writer Orla Bradbee.

With Christmas fast approaching, her boss is insisting Orla must travel to a rural village in France to interview a man who doesn’t speak. But with trouble at home – her teenage sister Erin is in a ‘situationship’ with a man online – Orla’s only plan is to take Erin with her.

Get the interview done, find out more about this online Romeo and still be back in time for Christmas dinner. Easy, right?

Saint-Chambéry is a picturesque French village nestled in the snow-capped mountains, but Jacques Barbier – gorgeous and brooding, yet a man of few words – makes it clear that Orla is wasting her time here.

Orla can’t deny that Jacques intrigues and infuriates her, but what is the mysterious Frenchman hiding exactly? And can she get close enough to uncover his secrets without risking her own heart?

Escape to the beautiful French Alps with Mandy Baggot for a romantic, heartwarming story to get you through the cold winter months! 

One Winter at the French Chalet by Mandy Baggot

My review

A last-minute assignment couldn’t have come at a worse time for Orla. As she uncovered one family issue after another, the last thing she wanted was to be sent on a wild goose-chase to the French mountains. However, the longer she was there, breathing in the crisp mountain air, the clearer she began to see things about her life. 

Jacques was an enigma from the beginning and getting to the bottom of his backstory kept me turning the pages, even when I should have been doing other things. For someone who was always 100% in control of himself and his surroundings, being thrown together with Orla in the run up to Christmas rocked his world in more ways than one. Meeting in such an unusual way, proved to be a timely reminder for both Jacques and Orla, how routine their lives had become and how this had led them to lose their spark for life.

One Winter at the French Chalet by Mandy Baggot

I instantly felt at home in the Alpine village of Saint-Chambéry, its quirky community felt rather familiar having lived in a rural French village for over twenty years. The characters were a great mix of interfering, yet caring and always proud of their traditions. Life here brought plenty of smiles to my face, especially the antics of those who have the community’s best interests at heart. Delphine in particular is someone I will remember fondly for her stubbornness and the delicious drinks served from her café. 

I also loved the teenagers, Erin, Tommy and Burim. Their take on life and the issues and emotions going on around them was insightful, their astuteness was something else and despite the serious nature of some of the topics, I couldn’t help but smile at them and the way they trumped their older siblings so effortlessly. 

This book was a real heartwarming read. Everyone learned something about themselves and those around them, and when things got serious the community came together to help and support each other. Add in a bit of Alpine magic to add sparkle to the dark days and you have a book as comforting as a hot chocolate after a frosty morning walk. 

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Mandy Baggot

Author Bio  

Mandy Baggot is a bestselling romance writer who loves giving readers that happy-ever-after. From sunshine romantic comedies set in Greece, to cosy curl-up winter reads, she's bringing gorgeous heroes and strong heroines readers can relate to. Mandy splits her time between Salisbury, Wiltshire and Corfu, Greece and has a passion for books, food, racehorses and all things Greek!

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One Winter at the French Chalet by Mandy Baggot

La vie est Belle

A bike ride along the river Belle, Deux-Sèvres

La Vie est Belle

 

September, how could you, my birth month, have been so disappointing weatherwise this year? I have vivid memories of September 2004, our first full month in France, where temperatures regularly topped 30º, breakfasts, lunches and dinners were eaten outside, and it seemed summers in France would go on forever.

Looking back on twenty years of photos, sunny days, hot bike rides, touristy days out under blue skies, and sultry vistas of our orchard looking crisp and dry at the end of the season are far more common than the low-hung grey skies, vivid greens of soggy water-logged land and the stormy days you have showered on us this year.

Had we been blessed with a summer of endless sunny days a moist September might have come as a welcome relief. As it was, summer had hardly seemed to get going as August drew to a close, and I was eagerly anticipating a September where foggy mornings gave way to hot afternoons, where despite the shortening of the days, evenings were still warm enough to be outdoor events. The disappointment of a September that has been so far from my expectations has been hard to accept.

Terra Aventura parcours, Exireuil, Deux-Sèvres

As October arrives, so does the ominous date of the 14^th, marking exactly one year since the weather turned, becoming wet and unsettled following a gorgeous six-week period of late summer heat. This year, I think I’d be hard pushed to count six decent, hot days in the last six weeks, but I do know we have made the most of them, often following the routes and answering the questions on the Terra Aventura geocaching app. This has seen us clambering over boulders in the river gorge, as we explored les puits d’enfer (hell’s wells) in Exireuil, alongside the military town of Saint-Maixent-l’Ecole in the Deux-Sèvres, as well as discovering hidden gems in Civray and Charroux in the Vienne.

A September sunset ride

The Bromptons continue to be our faithful companions, whether to and from work, enjoying rarely glimpsed sunsets after work, or the glowing autumnal colours of Chef-Boutonne on market day. We also discovered the Belle valley, less than thirty kilometres from home, where lavoirs, lost lanes and fairy bridges hidden in the trees reminded us that la vie est belle, life is beautiful (whatever the weather).

Sunshine in Charmé, Charente

I have yet to cycle my traditional 100km in a day birthday bike ride, something I have been doing since September 2015, although we did manage a fabulous 93km on the 20^th September. Our route took us through the Charente vineyards ripe with fruit, past Romanesque churches, lavoirs and fields of sunflowers with drooping seed heads, awaiting harvest. In Mansle, on the banks of the Charente River, we enjoyed a coup de soleil from a local patisserie. This new to us delight had a base of an apricot clafoutis with a lightly whipped topping of crème patisserie and Chantilly cream and was a real burst of sunshine in our mouths. Sadly, with storm clouds and thunder rolling in around us, we didn’t risk adding on the required seven kilometres to hit the 100. Ten days later and it seems the stormy showers and high winds, although interspersed with sunny spells, are still with us. I’ve had enough. Like the lizards I watch soaking up the heat on the steps of the château, I need to recharge my solar panels before winter arrives.

I can only hope that October gives us some respite from the cold and damp before winter truly sets in. 

  

A tale of two trees and twenty years

Our Cypress trees today

A tale of two trees and twenty years

We have reached a French life milestone, and tonight, we will be popping the cork on a bottle to celebrate twenty years living in a rural village in the Deux-Sèvres. 

The week we moved in, trees in their pots

 

When we arrived in France in August 2004, part of our lorry load of worldly possessions included four potted Cypress trees, all rather spindly and under two metres tall. This was back in the pre-Brexit days when moving plants was as easy as moving people, but from the Burke Bros Global Relocation company website, I can see it’s nowhere near as easy now. With each pot requiring a phytosanitary certificate issued by DEFRA, at a minimum of £186.68, I’m quite sure we wouldn’t have bothered. It was Burke Bros who we used when we moved, and although our furniture had been in storage with them for a month, they made a special stop on their way to the ferry just to load up the plants that had been sitting in Adrian’s parents’ garden – we certainly couldn’t fault their service. You can read their full article on the new rules for moving plants to France here.

Summer 2005, the new terrace

The first few summers in France, our trees sat proudly in their pots, two marking the double doors leading from the lounge and two by a bench at the side of the garden, under the plum and hazelnut trees. 

 

Once we’d cleared a corner of the courtyard to create a terrace space, ironically by removing a lot of ivy and a huge bushy pine tree, we discovered a pretty stone wall and decided just in front of it would be the perfect forever place for the trees. In hindsight, potting all four into the new bed meant they were way too close together, so not surprisingly, nature sorted out the two strongest and the other two died off.

 

Look at them now. Not only are they tall and majestic, but they are full of life. As we enjoy a cup of lemon and ginger tea in bed each morning, we watch bird after bird landing on the branches, before hopping inside. This creates a scruffy shape which Adrian isn’t so keen on, but knowing sparrows, chaffinch, goldfinch, blackbird and more, are all happily nesting, safely within their tight foliage, never fails to make me smile.

 

These trees are just one reminder that we have put roots down here, we too have created new lives for ourselves, and this is especially true for Ed. He was tiny like the trees when we arrived but has now flown our nest and is happily living his own life. He is working full time in a job where he is surrounded by music, a young and dynamic team, and working for a company who are supportive of his musical dreams. He is in a band who rehearse for two hours every Monday evening, writing their own material as well as creating their own take on cover versions. They have an energy and chemistry on stage and a ‘bring the house down’ atmosphere at gigs. He has also been with Pearl for five years now, and we couldn’t be prouder parents. 

 

Our lives have changed a lot, but I still can’t believe it’s been twenty years, especially as if you look closely in the photos, you will see we are still using the same green plastic table on the terrace.

 

There have been many times when it has been hard work, challenging, frustrating and scary (think Brexit – the repercussions of which are still rippling under the surface). Above all, however, it’s been rewarding and a fantastic experience, that has enabled us to achieve so many things I could never have imagined when we set off on our dream adventure, middle-aged and naïve, twenty years ago.

 

I wouldn’t change a thing. This week, like many, has been one where our feet haven’t touched the ground, and I can’t wait to share our latest adventure in my next post. As a teaser, here is a pic from a photoshoot taken by Stella who just happens to work for the tourism section of the Deux-Sèvres Departement.

In the Marais Poitevin, © S.Bonnet

 

You can read my older posts about our first days in France here:

Our first night in France 

Arriving in Poitou-Charentes 

At the Notaires 

Moving into our new home in France 

  

The good, the bad and the ugly of life in rural France

Sunflowers and sunny skies

As we approach our twentieth anniversary of arriving in France, we have experienced the good, the bad and the ugly of rural French life - and all in one week. 

Note - to keep things on a happy note, all the photos in this blog are from our days out enjoying the sunshine.

The Cognac vineyards

The good

Since my last post about the year without a summer, we were treated to almost four continuous days of sunshine and heat, which miraculously coincided with days off work for both of us. It would have been the ideal time to head away, but that wasn’t possible with Mini the dog’s age-related issues – which are to be expected now she is 16 ½. Not ones to waste our days lounging around, we set off on the bikes every afternoon, exploring some hidden gems in the Charente vineyards, and Marais-Poitevin marshes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on our skin. This felt so good after bike rides in the rain, cycling into head winds, or summer commutes cool enough to cause goosepimples and runny noses. There is something quite special about real summer cycling where you learn to appreciate the subtle temperature changes as you ride into the shade of the trees, or follow a cooling river, enjoying the caressing breeze as you move through the air.

 

We drank in the endless vistas of smiling sunflowers, saw young deer sheltering in the vineyards, dusty combine harvesters working the wheat fields, and stopped to admire old lavoirs or wash houses. We fuelled our 235kms of pedalling with patisserie stops where croissants, éclairs (coffee and Grand Marnier) and tartelettes (apple and lemon) were appreciated on shady benches. Summer in rural France is good.

 

Grand Marnier éclair

The bad

Despite getting much less usage than the bikes, the time had come to replace all four tyres on our car. Adrian got a few online quotes before booking an appointment at Feu Vert in Niort, paying up front as requested. We live about an hour’s drive from Niort and as we approached the garage, in plenty of time for our appointment, the phone rang. The line wasn’t good, but I understood enough to realise that the tyres hadn’t been delivered, so they were calling to cancel the appointment to fit them. This was frustrating. They had taken our money four days ago and we’d now committed to a two-hour round trip, to coincide with our days off, and had nothing to show for it. Had we lived closer, we might have been able to save ourselves the wasted journey, but this is one of the downsides to living in rural France. Thankfully, it wasn’t all bad as cancelling the order was straightforward and the full refund arrived within the 48 hours promised. Adrian is now back online, searching and checking availability of four low-profile, all-season tyres.

 

Romanesque church, Charente

The ugly

Heading out and about from the village this last week, the vehicles we have seen more of even than the combine harvesters, have been Gendarme vans, normally a pretty unusual sight around here. There were convoys of them in Niort, heavily manned check points appeared on the way in and out of Chef-Boutonne and the only car that we saw on the quiet backroads heading to the château on Sunday morning, was a Gendarme. The reason for this activity is the controversial construction of mega-bassines or huge water reservoirs, that has put our local area on the global map.

 

The idea behind the reservoirs is that farmers who irrigate their crops build a reservoir, fill it from the rivers over winter, so they won’t run out of water during the drier summer months. Sounds simple, but this causes a massive imbalance for the local ecosystem and water table levels, that affects us all, purely for the benefit of a few farmers who choose to grow water-thirsty (mainly maize) crops. Add to this the huge financial costs to their construction, that are massively funded by the state, along with the responsibility we all have to conserve water, and this has become a highly controversial topic. Greta Thunberg was among the activists visiting the pop-up water village in Melle over the weekend, and she shared the following about the reservoirs on social media:

 

“Construction of mega-basins have accelerated in recent years partly as a result of the climate crisis and more intense and frequent droughts. But this is no way a solution…This only digs us deeper into an already deeply flawed policy-system that benefits big agro-industrial interests representing a small minority of farmers, while ruining the environment and destabilising the climate”.

Cycling the Sèvre Niortais in the Marais Poitevin

 

I am not a fan of the bassines, but when thousands of protestors from all over the world arrive in our quiet corner of France, accompanied by thousands more Gendarmes, riot police and helicopters, the situation quickly got ugly. Whilst many protestors were genuine, there were others who had weapons confiscated, and I can’t help but think of the negative environmental impact of all these extra vehicles on the roads.

 

So as not to finish on an ugly note, something else happened last week that highlights why we are happy with our rural French village life. At the same moment we were about to fill the boot of the car with lots of garden waste to take to the tip eight kilometres away, the village gardener’s truck pulled up outside and Monsieur began to unload the commune’s lawnmower. When he saw what we were doing, he took one side of our loaded groundsheet and with Adrian’s help emptied it into the truck, saving us an afternoon’s work. That is why he will always find a cup of coffee by our front gate when he turns up to mow the patch outside our house in the mornings.

 

Tartlettes au citron et aux pommes

I’m working this week, so I hope summer returns and encourages lots of visitors to enjoy all that the Château de Javarzay has to offer. 

Advent postcards, Javarzay, Chef-Boutonne, Deux-Sèvres

 

Advent postcard, Javarzay, Deux-Sèvres

Advent day eighteen

It wasn’t just the under tens in our village who got an early Christmas gift from Père Noël yesterday, we had our own reason to celebrate as Adrian’s mum was visiting for a long weekend. This is her first trip to France since 2019 and as we won’t be travelling to the UK this Christmas, we made the most of being able to have an early family celebration.

 

It was a busy weekend, taking in the Christmas market and lights in Poitiers on Saturday and taking her on a guided visit of Chef-Boutonne and Javarzay on Sunday afternoon. The Château de Javarzay may not be open, but we peered in the windows and had a good wander of the grounds, the lavoirs (wash houses), churches and the Boutonne river – which I’ve never seen so flooded. The sluice gates were all open and the power and speed of the water cascading through was mesmerising, and so very different from the gentle stream I’m used to seeing at work all summer. There is a mark on the wall of one lavoir showing the height of the flooding in 1982 and the water levels are currently only a few centimetres lower, with most of the features of the lavoir under water. 

 

Wanting to remember the heat of the summer, I’ve picked some sunny photos for my advent postcard today, with blue skies, pretty flowers and the golden hew of the stonework. 

We returned home with fresh faces for hot chocolate and homemade mincepies and later tucked into our version of a Christmas Day dinner. There was turkey, braised red cabbage, sprouts and other seasonal vegetables, but served as a risotto with side dishes. I’m not one to do things by the rules and as you can see, all plates were empty, so it went down well and was so much less hassle than a roast dinner.

An early family Christmas meal - the posed selfie

 

An early family Christmas meal - the empty plates

 

Advent postcards, Père Noël visits our village

Advent postcard, Père Noël visits our village

Advent day seventeen

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is from our village. Today is one of my favourite volunteering days of the year – the day Père Noël visits every child aged ten and under.

 

A few weeks ago, a small team of us visited a local toy shop to buy the thirty-seven gifts, which were wrapped and delivered to the village by their staff. 

 

Two days ago, we all met up to decorate the commune’s white van and convert it into a mobile grotto for Père and Mère Noël.

 

This afternoon, our little convoy of me and my decorated Brompton, a car with a sound system blaring out Christmas tunes, and the mobile grotto made our way slowly around the village spreading smiles. So many happy small people, faces alight when they heard us arrive and parents wishing us a happy Christmas and thanking us. It was a great way to spend a few hours. 

Advent postcards, Villemain Deux-Sèvres

Advent postcard, Villemain, Deux-Sèvres

Advent day sixteen

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is from the tiny village of Villemain, a mere three kilometres from our home. It is neatly tucked into the French countryside, so it’s not even somewhere you would drive through on your way to somewhere else. 

 

We will often set off on one of our quick ten-kilometre bike ride loops that take us through Villemain. Sometimes the route finishes with Villemain and then a whizzing downhill back home. Other times it starts with a gentle incline past goat and cow farms before a real leg and lung stretcher as we climb into the woods on the ridge.

 

If you do find yourself there, I think there are a few reasons to stop and take a moment. The first is the village war memorial. Rather than a sculptured rectangular memorial depicting the names of those lost, Villemain's is a statue of a French soldier painted in the palest blue uniform. Set on a plinth behind iron railings, it is always bedecked with flags for Victory in Europe Day on 8^th May and for Remembrance Day on 11^th November.

 

The second reason to stop is the Georgelet goat cheese farm. Any award-winning cheese farm whose cheeses are shipped all over France is worth a detour in my book, and they win gold medals most years at the national agricultural shows. They make a variety of the local speciality goat cheeses including Le Mothais sur Feuille which comes wrapped in a chestnut leaf and the pyramid shaped Chabichou de Poitou. Twice a week the farm shop is open, selling local produce as well as their cheese, but we can also stock up at the Saturday morning market in Chef-Boutonne, which is exactly what we did today, so that’s one bit of my Christmas shopping finished.

 

Advent postcards, La Faye, Charente

 

Advent postcard, La Faye, Charente

Advent day 15

We are not travelling too far from home for today’s cycling advent-ures postcard, but it’s still a village with a story to tell.

 

La Faye, situated just under five kilometres from Ruffec is somewhere that holds special memories for us as it has become our tradition to spend Christmas Day lunch there. We wrap up warmly, pack our posh picnic and cycle to La Faye, where there is the most perfect of picnic spots. The sturdy table is not just under cover but is also protected on two sides by the renovated village bread oven. The spire of the church surveys the scene and there is even a toilet in the car park and a baguette vending machine for our fresh bread. We couldn’t really ask for more, but this year the commune have dug a pond next to the bread oven, so we might even get ducks to feed this Christmas.

 

This September we made another visit to La Faye, in the footsteps once again of my favourite French industrialist Jean-François Cail. It seemed rather bizarre that we had travelled hundreds of kilometres to visit his iron railway bridge in Moulins, but we’d never seen the agricultural domaine he set up near Ruffec in 1853. Despite having left the area as a teenager and made his fortune in Paris and the north of France, he retired to La Faye and its impressive manor house, situated only twenty kilometres from where he was born in Chef-Boutonne (in 1804).

 

He chose the land as he could easily make the journey by train from Paris to Ruffec and although the soil and the buildings were in a poor state when he bought them, he expanded the farm from 160 ha to 308 ha. He radically moved away from traditional cereals and the crops to feed cattle, planting beets and installing a distillery to turn them into alcohol, something that would have been a risky decision in an area so close to Cognac. He died at La Faye in 1871. 

The farm might have changed radically in the last hundred and fifty-two years, but some of the farm buildings and the manor house are still there. It seemed fitting to pause for a moment before continuing on 112km birthday bike ride.

Advent postcards, Bellevue, Pays Mellois, Deux-Sèvres

Advent postcard, Bellevue, Deux-Sèvres

 

Advent day eleven

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is from the abandoned village of Bellevue, a surprise find in the middle of some woods in the Lambon valley. 

 

We were out for the day, on our bikes, ticking off the Terra Aventura circuits in Celle-sur-Belle and Prailles, near Lac du Lambon in the Deux-Sèvres. The theme of the Prailles course was Resistance but it had nothing to do with The Occupation during World War Two. This area of the Pays Mellois was an important stronghold for the Protestants during the religious wars in France five hundred years ago. Forced to meet in secret, they were adept at hiding their faith from the authorities and there are many signs still visible today that show how they resisted against the Catholics. There is also a local museum dedicated to their story, that is on my list of places to visit next year.

 

What began as a cycle ride along quiet rural lanes lined with fields and vineyards, changed abruptly as we turned onto a narrow track at the edge of a field, and descended into a wood. We followed the map and clues, and soon ended up deep in a forested valley with no other signs of life aside from the birdsong. It was a real adventure, although rather tricky manoeuvring the bikes over the stones, roots and logs in the pathway. As we reached the river Lambon, it was one surprise after another. First the ruined stone walls of houses from the abandoned village of Bellevue came into view, now mostly consumed by the foliage of the forest, and then a medieval stone bridge appeared (and I do love an ancient cobbled bridge). If it hadn’t been for the handy information panels explaining the plight of the Protestants and illustrating rural life over the ages, it would have felt like we’d become lost in a forgotten world.

 

You can find more information on this 5.5km walk on the tourist office website here. I’d definitely recommend it, but it’s probably better to do it on foot, in dry weather, rather than attempt it on bikes.

 

Advent postcards, Noyant-d'Allier

 

Advent postcards, Noyant-d'Allier

Advent day ten

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is from a small village in the Allier department we stumbled across on our two-centre cycling trip at the end of August. We spent two nights in Clermont-Ferrand and exploring the Puy de Dôme, before moving on for one night in Moulins, in the Allier department. Adrian found the village of Noyant-d’Allier, a handy thirty kilometres from Moulins, that looked a perfect spot to park the car overnight, as we unfolded the bikes and let them lead us on our adventure. 

 

Moulins was all I’d hoped it would be, and more, as it is home to the only surviving metal railway bridge built by Jean-François Cail. Regular readers will remember he was born in Chef-Boutonne and part of the museum at the Château de Javarzay is dedicated to his remarkable life – but more about our Moulins visit in another blog. Noyant-d’Allier is the star of today’s post. 

 

What seemed to be a standard, sleepy French village, which we’d found to be rather lacking in picnic tables, was actually hiding a huge secret that we discovered when we returned to the car, thinking our August adventure was over. We had already learned that coal mining had been important in the area, and noticed they had a small mining museum with some impressive steam trains, but it was following signs to the “Pagode” that left a lasting memory. Tucked away at the end of a residential road is a Buddhist temple, and the first thing that caught my eye was the nine-metre-high golden meditating Buddha, followed by the nine-metre-long white reclining Buddha. It felt like we had been transported a long way away from a rural mining village in France. Luckily there was an information panel explaining all (Adrian will tell you that I do love an information panel).

 

The coal mine had been a major employer from the middle of the 19^th century until the end of World War Two, when it was fully closed in 1943. Many people left the area, so from the mid 1950’s the empty housing was used to home the refuges displaced from the French war in Indochina (Vietnam). They remained and have become an integral part in the local area, so in 1983 work began on building them a Buddhist temple, set in a park where statues illustrate the different stages of the life of Buddha, as well as a mausoleum and a garden of remembrance. I felt so lucky to have stumbled upon such a peaceful and beautiful place and was honoured to have spent a few moments wandering around.

 

If you are ever in the Allier department, do go and visit.

 

Advent postcards, Rom Deux-Sèvres

Advent postcards, Rom, Deux-Sèvres

Advent day seven

Today for our cycling advent-ures postcard we are staying in our home department of the Deux-Sèvres and visiting the village of Rom. This is one of the most interesting villages we have revisited this year, as there was so much more to discover than we’d imagined. We had previously visited the cemetery where there are thirty Commonwealth War graves, mostly RAF Special Air Servicemen who lost their lives on 7^th July 1944 during Operation Bulbasket. It is a sobering and moving place to visit and the RAF lay blue wreaths in September every year in remembrance.

 

Working in a museum, I decided that this year I needed to visit some of the other tourist sites locally, so when our visitors ask for information on things to see, I can do more than hand out a leaflet. We started our visit at the church, with its interesting stone tombs and painted chapels, but it was the Rauranum museum next door that we had really come to see, and it turned out to be the star of the visit.

 

Rom might be just a small rural village now, but two thousand years ago it was a major stage post along the Roman road that ran from Poitiers to Saintes. Rauranum was a vibrant place, home to around four thousand people and with visitors from all over Europe and north Africa. It was equipped with all the facilities you’d expect from an important Roman town and the remains of the stables and baths can be seen as you wander around the village. We visited the museum on a Sunday afternoon and were lucky enough to have it to ourselves. It might not be the biggest museum in France, but there a vast display of the artifacts found locally, and we also learned so much about the Roman history in the area. It is certainly somewhere I can now enthusiastically recommend to local tourists. 

Advent postcards, Embourie Charente

Advent postcards, Embourie, Charente

Advent day six

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is from a small village in the Charente, home to only around one hundred inhabitants but that kept a huge secret for hundreds of years. Hidden in a field above the village of Embourie are the remains of an impressive Gallo-Roman villa and many other artifacts have been uncovered in area in the last fifty years.

 

It is much to my shame that Embourie has been on our cycling radar for many years, including as a morning coffee stop on our Christmas Day picnic rides, but having regularly climbed up past the church, we had never before turned off the narrow main road and followed signs to the villa. In our defence, France (and particularly French villages) have a habit of enticing the traveller off their chosen path with intriguing signs for Dolmens, cheese farms, Roman villas etc that often result in a huge detour for something that is closed or rather unremarkable. I’ve made Adrian follow enough of these over the years to make him wary, but I’m happy to report that Embourie isn’t one of these wild goose chase detours. 

 

Closely following the Terra Aventura app, we had visited the church and ancient tombs in the cemetery, and taken a walk through the antique garden, set out to illustrate the planting and structure of a garden in a wealthy Gallo-Roman villa. It was finally time to find the villa. At the end of a flower edged lane, a short stretch along the hedgerow of a field led us to a marked-out area with low stone walls depicting the remains of the villa, with handily placed information boards to explain it all. Embourie might be small, but our visit was fascinating and there was so much more to discover than I was expecting. 

As I look back on our various outings this year, Gallo-Roman sites have featured many times from Saintes, in the Charente-Maritime, to Perigueux, in the Dordogne, to Rom in the Deux-Sèvres, where we will be visiting for tomorrow’s postcard. It is wonderful to live in an area with so much history, from so many different periods. 

Advent postcards, Grignols Dordogne

Advent postcards, Grignols, Dordogne

Advent day five

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is another from our Périgueux trip in June, where the village of Grignols and its impressive château caught my eye, thanks again to the Terra Aventura app.

 

We left Périgueux under perfect blue skies, taking the cycle path that follows the river Isle towards St Astier, enjoying the cool shade provided by the water and tree canopy, with the delicate scent of tilleul flowers in the air. I can almost feel the heat of that day, just from looking back at our photos.

Grignols was a sleepy place with a market halle and auberge (closed) at river level, a Renaissance château commanding a position high above, and narrow lanes with houses between them. It was a hot climb up to the château which really is a beauty and as the road wound up and around, there were no end of lovely views and vistas of Renaissance architecture and Dordogne countryside. The château is a private residence, so there is no access, but it was definitely worth the effort. 

 

It wasn’t just the château that I loved about Grignols, in the market halle I found several paper booklets, available for free, with a variety of treasure hunts to follow as you explored. This great idea for tourists of all ages, really showed the pride they have in their history and heritage. The only thing the village seemed to be missing was a picnic table for us to enjoy our ham and cheese baguettes, but just over the river Vern, we found a bench by a church where there was a sad little vide grenier (car boot sale) to entertain us too.