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Published: April 29th 2018
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There are some places you just don't want to move from. The relative heaven of the green venis verte was one of them. The bread and the croissants were always delivered on time and were delicious. If you wanted a bus to Coulin you just rang up and ordered it the day before. If you wanted to go to nearby Noirt you picked the fee bus up at Coulin. The only problem it ran a few times in the morning to take the workers to work . If you missed that the next bus was after 1 o'clock. Sadly we were sleeping in and having late breakfasts which meant that we had fifteen minutes to run to Coulin for the last bus in. Even Usain Bolt or Mo Farrow would have failed miserably and missed the bus.
We did however decide to pack up sticks and head for Niort under our own steam . There was a car park right below the donjon so what could go wrong? The town was linked with Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Plantagenants so held a certain interest for us. It was leness than a 20 minute drive to Niort , We knew where
the parking space was. We knew how big the car park was. What we didn't know was whether Gabby would fit on to the spaces available. As it turned out the car park was easy to park on but they were only car sized. We got our ticket checked the joint out and decided it was not worth the hassle . 70 cents later we were out on the road heading for St Jean D'Angely
Before arriving at the village we stopped off at the local Super U . I love French supermarkets. They are eccentric in a particularly French way. This one had a car inside packed with baguettes and croissants and a tree underneath which was filled with fruit . It felt a cross between a local market, a Morrisons Market Street and Chesterfield tat market all rolled into one. I bought food for breakfast, French flans, strawberries by the tray and herbe sausages and marinated pork chops. The fridge was full again.
We expected much from St Jean D'Angeley we expected archetypal French streets full of boulangeries, charcuteries and pastel shades shutters, Plane trees and cafes basking in the sunshine, Our campsite was just out
of town beside the man made lake with bridge, weir and fishermen. We heard the sounds of what we thought were peacocks and chimps. Perhaps there is a zoo nearby. We were later to find out that there were no peacocks and the chimp noises were just noisy frogs in the arboretum next door.
In the sunshine we wilted like lettuces, We walked into town to the abbey. A strange building , Roman in character with doric arches and above arches that fitted no known order. As sort of box of lego put together in some hearthearted fashion, Behind were the remains of the medieval abbey. In its day it must have been impressive. Now there were just hints of its former glory. The town was shabby but not chic. The shops were empty and boarded up. Amongst all the empty streets were the odd pretty house with coloured shutters, a massive hospital serving the local population and the usual french square. What was missing were people. Where were they? It was friday and the shops should have been heaving. There were a few bikers having a cool drink in one of the local bars. Apart from that it appeared that the population had been abducted by aliens.
We sat in a quiet corner drinking and trying to people watch. Sadly there were not many to watch. The highlight of the town was the Horlogue with its modern clock , Sometimes you find a place like Coulon which is a little gem, at other times we expect much and find a dismal place such as St Jean D'Angely. Any thoughts of stopping quickly diminished. We had enjoyed Coulon but couldnt bring ourselves to love this place and stay.
If there were two good things to say about the place were the campsite showers and the sausages from the supermarket which cooked up nicely on the Barbeque.
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