France 132 - La Coutiniere - a workaday port/a cup of cidre brut or cidre doux/strongbow versus Woodpecker/the postcard got lost

---

When you visit places it is so easy to try to compare them with other places you have visited. I don't sometimes think it is the right thing to do . Each place has its own unique features. But comparing is what we do. It is as if we cannot help ourselves. We have to look at a place and ask ourselves how it compares with another place we have been to. We did this with La Coutiniere comparing it with a small fishing village on Olerons sister island Ile de Rey. We were staying at the local campsite of Sous Bois. Slightly out of town on a dusty white potholed road into town. It was an interesting site. Cheap as it was on ACSI so we only parted with just over 14 euros. The owner was lovely and welcoming. She gave us leaflets about the island and explained her site. The boulangerie across the road might be open tomorrow for croissants and baguettes or perhaps it would be closed. It seemed as if she didn't know and it wasn't a problem to be honest. The attitude was rather refreshing. The site was in the process of being upgraded. Plenty of grass plots - all large and fenced off with shrubs and with bamboos which rustled in the wind. The toilets were clean and tidy, The doors taken off to be repainted. The tiles all had a nautical feel and were cheery in blue, yellow and white. Pictures of boats on the walls. There wasn't much wrong with the site. There were plants everywhere, in tubs and in the gardens themselves. We have been blessed with good sites this holiday and this was no exception. If there was a problem it was one we made for ourselves. We plugged into the electricity and didn't notice that the box was not working. It took a while to realise we had no power and had to move to another plot. Jacques was coming along later to reset the trip.

We set off for the 1km walk to the beach and to the local town. The road was increasingly dusty and potholed. The town itself was very workaday. Colourful boats in the harbour. Each day they set off for sea to ply their trade bringing in sole , bass and other fish that is sold daily in the fish market in town. Even at 4pm in the afternoon there were locals and holidaymakers buying the fresh fish from the market place. We stopped off at a local café where we sat to drink cidre brut and eat crepes avec sucre. The place was bustling and we pondered on the cidre in its cup. It was brut. A dry variety. I guess the equivalent a Strongbow cider rather than a Diamond White. We had the option of a Cidre Doux. The equivalent back home a more sweeter variety. A Woodpecker too sweet to drink.

The plan had been to sit around for an hour or so and wait for the restaurants to open. However there were not enough things to capture our imagination. We didn't feel we could hang about all that time as in all honesty this town had little going for it. It did not compare well with those on the Ile de Rey. We could have sat and watched people for hours there , stopping and sitting near the Vauban fort. Here once you walked along the harbour there was little else to see. In the end we planned to walk slowly back home buying something for tea along the way. In the end the only shops open were a cake shop were I bought two rum babas and one fruit filled flan and a nut cake and an Italian delicatessen where I bought Italian ham.

Eating our ham and salads washed down with local wine we compared Rey with Oleron. Rey won hands down although we did have a sneaking liking for Oleron. It lacked the commercialism of its neighbour.

Waking up next morning we got up late. That is a habit this holiday and one we are enjoying. Life seems to be running at a slower rate than normal. We wont have massive bills from SANEF for our motorway travel as we have taken up a snail pace of travelling on the back roads of France. After breakfast we hit the road again , over the viaduct to the mainland and headed for Loches a royal city. Imagine a love story - imagine the lovers in Alcobaca in Spain, imagine Romeo and Juliet. There are always stories real and imagined about royal lovers and their fate. Love stories never end well do they? Loches offers another story about a King and his lover. Get ready to get your tissues out. It is not going to end well. The postcards we sent have not arrived. A case of lost in France methinks .

---