7. Day trip to St Jean d'Angely

St. Jean d'Angely is only a 20 minute train journey north of Saintes. It is a much smaller town than any I've visited so far, and has the River Boutonne running through it. The riverside looked a nice place to sit and there were some seats, but for some reason I didn't return to the river to sit there later in the day as planned. Again I did much walking in the heat of the day to see as much of the place as possible.



It rained a few brief showers, but nothing like the monsoon of yesterday when I lost a day in Saintes. The French girl I chatted to in the resturant last night, daughter of the owner, told me that it is rare for the weather to be like this (rainy and cloudy) in the Charente Maritime in summer. I guess we are having freak weather patterns all over Europe right now.

I did the walk around town after being given a walking map by the tourist office. The unfinished front of the classical church of the Abbey was begun in 1741, the immense Gothic Abbey having been destroyed by the Huguenots in 1568.



The main high street had music coming from speakers up on the wall. At first I thought it was coming from someone's home until I spotted the small speakers in public places. Strange music was playing from them including the Woody Woodpecker song and the theme tune to the Flintstones !


Managed to find a good place to have lunch, although it was packed at lunchtime and I had to come back later to find a table. Was successful the third time I tried, which by then was nearing 3pm. I think it was my best meal so far in France, and the red wine was good too. They were playing some really good laid-back music, and I ended up being the only one in there while they were clearing the tables from a hectic lunchtime. The restaurant was called Le Petit Bouchon, at the corner of rue Poissonieres and Place du Marche.

I went for a walk around the residential area and started to hear what sounded like an air-raid siren going off, which it did a few times. Strange sounds, certainly, in this village - it was starting to feel a bit surreal. I loved the way some of the houses there were built along the small stream, which I assumed must be coming off of the main river Boutonne.



After looking around an antique shop, I ran out of things to do and realised I still had about 3 hours before my train was due to depart for Saintes. I ended up being the only one in the bar near the station and so drank a pastis, even though I didn't really want or need any more alcohol. Looking back on it I would have done the day differently. I could have enquired at the tourist office about getting to Dampierre castle, which is a Renaissance chateau set in a Garden of Symbols, which also has a box hedge maze. There is an exhibition of alchemy there as the chateau was the alchemy centre during the ancient regime.


I either forgot about the castle as soon as I got to St. Jean d'Angely or assumed it was too far away, or thought there would be enough to do in this village. There were probably no tourist buses to it anyway - there never seemed to be a lot of tourist activity going on with regard to buses or boats anywhere, the tourist season felt flat or almost non-existent to me wherever I went. I'm sure that in a small town like St.Jean they would have trouble filling a whole busload with tourists to go to that castle, but maybe most people discover France by car anyway.

I'm probably just used to the energies of London which are constantly moving and has a tourist season throughout most of the year, whereas some of these places that are not main tourist destinations feel so sleepy and slow, the energies almost stagnant. When everything closes down for two hours at lunch time it is hard to see what it's like when trading is active, and the shops seem almost invisible until they open again.

I took this photo mainly for the strange energies I felt at the corner of the street - like a ghost-town. Is anyone alive in this street?



I could not imagine setting up a business in such a village, it would feel too frustrating. Even the man in the antique shop seemed accustomed to just sitting there expecting nothing, and I felt like I was probably the first person in days to walk into his shop. Maybe I just need to slow down and go back to a more simple life, which is part of the plan anyway, but that's not the same as utter boredom and having life grind to a halt. No..... perhaps quiet village life is not for me (at least not if I need an income) but neither is city life any more. Hopefully I'll know where I want to live when I see it - I just don't want to have to cover every square mile of France first before I find the right place.

6. Saintes and the Roman Amphitheatre

Arrived at the hostel at 4.30pm so only had to wait half an hour for reception to open. When I got the key to my room I saw that the numerology was still keeping to the fives, as my room number was 302. I was a bit surprised when I entered the room and realised I was sharing it with two other people. There was one single and one bunk bed, and mine was the bunk at the top. I'd become used to having the privacy of my own room...no, even my own hostel, so it took a bit of getting used to at first, but the two French women who eventually showed up were both very pleasant and were only staying one more night anyway. I kind of missed their company after they both went the next day, but was glad to be sleeping at ground level when I changed beds, and was able to resume having a sneaky cigarette with my head stuck out the window.

Saintes is walkable from the station, and there were many shops along the fairly long road to the main part of town, which was spread out on either side of the river. Not much of an old residential quarter though, but the many Roman ruins make up for that. The older part of town doesn't have the medieval half-timbered houses which is more of a feature further north in France, but I still liked the steep winding roads and old houses with shutters at the windows. On my day trip from Angouleme the Saturday food market was still going strong.

As usual, I collected all the little train timetables at the station when I arrived in Saintes because for some reason you can only pick up the local timetables when you arrive at your destination, which makes planning ahead a bit difficult. I find them much easier to read than UK train timetables, but its frustrating not being able to acquire them in advance. I was already wondering where the next side-trip from Saintes would be because I prefer to only stay 3 days in one place.
The River Charente here is the same river that flows through Angouleme, although here there were more seats and green spaces to sit by the river, which would be ideal for picnics.

I'd asked the Tourist Office about hiring a bike, but there was no bike hire shop in town. There was one in a village not that far away and they deliver to your hotel for the price of a day's bike hire, but the next day it was pouring with rain all day so I changed my mind about cycling and felt I'd lost a day in Saintes, which is why I booked the fourth night at the hostel. I was told that the countryside to the east of Saintes is very green and pretty, but that would have to wait for a dryer day, or even another trip. My main aim on this brief trip was to find the nearest large town to live within about 30 mins train journey to, and once I'd decided on the town I'd be in a better position to know which countryside to explore.

Saintes is in the centre of the Charente-Maritime region, in the south west of France. Different areas of France have their own microclimate, and the following map shows the number of sunshine hours per year in the various regions of France - the red areas being highest number. The Charente Maritime, in which the town of Saintes is located, is the little red area on the west coast.

Saintes has a population of about 27,000 and is a modern small town which still retains many reminders of its Roman origins, particularly the Arc de Germanicus standing alongside the main bridge over the Charente into the town and dating from 18AD (about the time that Saintes was originally founded), and the Roman amphitheatre built in the first century AD and able to accommodate 20,000 spectators.



The highlight of my stay here was the Roman amphitheatre. It is larger than it looks in the photos and I just sat there watching the lizards darting in and out of the rocks, wondering what it must have been like in Roman times and feeling wonderfully free that I could stand in the middle of the amphitheatre and know that I'm perfectly safe from being fed to the lions.

Having walked around most of the town, looked in the shops and sat by the river a number of times, there were only two things left to do before leaving :
1) have my hair cut as it is half the price to go to the hairdressers in France compared with London.
2) see a French movie. They have a lovely art-film cinema here, and although I knew my French was probably not up to it, I decided to go see an animation as at least I could appreciate the film visually even if I couldn't understand all of it.
I missed the earlier screening so went to the 9pm one, where only the front two rows in the balcony were occupied, the stalls downstairs being totally empty. I didn't take a photo of the cinema, but the film Persepolis was a delight to see and I got the gist of it even though I couldn't understand a lot because they were talking way too fast. Persepolis that year became the first animation film to win an award at Cannes since René Laloux’s Fantastic Planet in 1973.

My day trip to St. Jean d'Angely follows this entry, which I actually did while staying in Saintes.

The weather had changed dramatically since my arrival in Saintes, in this supposedly sunniest region of France. The youth hostel receptionist booked me into Blois hostel for the remaining 3 days of my trip. They say it is sunny in Blois right now, she told me. See 'Blois Youth Hostel' in the Loire section posted previously.

5. Detour further south - Angouleme

During my two week trip which started off in the Loire I headed further south to escape the overcast skies, which had only marred the beginning of my trip. In fact, by the time I got back to the Loire after this diversion, the weather situation had reversed and I returned to Blois where the sun was shining and feeling glad to leave the weather further south - which taken a turn for the worst and left me wondering whether I was somehow influencing it, bringing bad weather wherever I go.

Still, as I first travelled further south on the fast TGV train there gradually appeared a bit more blue in the sky. It was stiill cloudy, but the clouds were white and fluffy rather than grey, and by the time I reached Angouleme I could feel it was a few degrees warmer.

The hostel was at least a 25 minute walk from the station and downhill all the way to the river, as the town is on much higher ground. My first impression of the town was the contrast between the seeming wealth of Tours and the lesser affluence of Angouleme, which was a bit shabby around the station area. It has no international airport (although there are plans for one to open in 2008) and it's not exactly a tourist destination like the towns in the Loire Valley. I had to cross a pedestrian bridge to reach the hostel, which is on an island in the middle of the river Charente. I was looking forward to dumping my heavy suitcase so I could go back uphill into town and get myself a drink outside some cafe.

The river Charente looked lovely, so calm, clean and serene - I definitely preferred it to the Loire - and it looked an ideal place to have a houseboat. I had a view of the river from my room which had three other bunk beds in it, although I had the room to myself during my stay. I noted the numerology of my room adding up to 5 again - here in Angouleme I was in Room 14, and in Tours I was in Room 401. The hostel only charged 12 euros per night (but no breakfast), which meant I could stay here 4 or 5 times longer than in the cheapest of hotels or guesthouses. As I only go to my room to sleep and don't spend the day there, I have no need of anything other than a clean room and comfortable bed, plus a hot shower.



I got lost on the way back into town, and had a smoothie plus an iced coffee when I finally did arrive. Picked up some maps from the tourist office, and some train timetables from the station. Because of travelling for much of the day there wasn't time to do a lot, so I had dinner ( a mixed grill of duck, chicken, steak and sausage) and couldn't finish it because my appetite suddenly went, and then I started feeling a bit ill. The duck was VERY undercooked, virtually raw in the middle, and I think that was the culprit. In France medium-cooked seems to mean nearly raw.

Angouleme's claim to fame is its status as the world capital for comic strip art. There is a comic strip and cartoon museum, plus an annual comic festival held every January. The town itself has buildings adorned with various murals from comics.
This is the first one I saw, which is not far from the station.


The area around Angouleme is largely agricultural, producing a variety of fine wines. Angoulême is a centre of the paper-making industry, with which the town has been connected since the 14th century until quite recently. This is commemorated in the Musee du Papier, which is in the former premises of "le Nil", a company that specialised in making cigarette papers until its closure in 1970.


The following day I visited the paper mill (now a museum) on the banks of the Charente. I'm not sure if there are any active mills anywhere along the river, but I think I read that paper-making does still go on in a couple of other places along the Charente. The downstairs has what's left of the mill, mainly lots of rushing water and contraptions like wheels and things, with the museum upstairs with displays and photos. Not a lot to see but at least its free. Apart from a class of schoolchildren doing some class project in a side room, there was just me there taking photographs of what the industry used to look like in its heyday.


I got into the habit of going back to the hostel for a brief rest before going out again for dinner, as what with all the walking up and down those steep roads I felt too exhausted not to. It also gave me a chance to check my map and train timetables for deciding my next destination, whether it was a day trip or to move on completely. Considering it was June none of the tourist pleasure boats seemed to be operating, and it wasn't until later on that I realised the tourist season doesn't really get going until July. I wouldn't have minded a trip down the river. So I went to the Comic Art Museum instead for something to do.
It cost about 6 euros to go in, and everything was in French, plus I didn't recognise a lot of the comic strip characters as I grew up with different ones. Some rooms were very dark inside, which made it more atmospheric.


I decided to take a day trip to Saintes on the Saturday to see if its worth staying there a few days, being wary after my disappointment with Chinon, and restricting myself for the time being to towns that had a youth hostel. The hostel in Angouleme was extremely quiet, and I had yet to see another resident. It was starting to feel a bit eerie, like I was the only one there. At night all I could hear was the ducks quacking on the river. And now it appeared that the woman who works in reception at the hostel had disappeared too. Reception was supposed to open at 5pm to 10pm but the office was closed.



As I was about to leave to go out to dinner a man knocked on the glass door of the hostel. It is kept constantly locked and we have to key in a number to get back in. He was there with his wife and two elderly people, and said in French that he had been all round the building looking for a way in as the place is meant to be open at this hour.
I told him there was nobody in the office, so unfortunately the potential guests had to depart. Although I enjoy peace and quiet there was something unsettling about feeling I was the only one on the island, and seeing no boat trips going down the river. No wonder the place didn't attract more tourists, if tourist attractions weren't functioning, no bike hire shops were to be found and a youth hostel closed when it was supposed to be open.



The river was very much the central focus of my stay here. I took this photo in the evening, from the bridge to the hostel.

As you can see, it's a fair walk uphill to get to the town to have my first coffee of the morning. I'd given up with the vending machine as, apart from never having a 50 centime piece which is all it would take, the coffee tasted foul and tea was not even listed as an option.

I will say more about Saintes in the next post, but on the day trip I did there was a heatwave, which seemed to be the case also in Angouleme.
After I came back from Saintes, Angouleme seemed particularly lively that Saturday night, with even a festive atmosphere. Violin players were outside the restaurants, a general feeling of revelry pervaded the air, and due to the heatwave it was still feeling hot well into the night.


Sunday was to be a relaxing day as I'd exhausted myself walking so much in the heatwave. I still hadn't seen a supermarket in Angouleme yet, but there was an indoor market that sold produce that could be open on Sundays. As usual I preferred the old quarter of town, where most of the cafes and restaurants were. Here is another mural on a house not far from the old quarter of town.



Sunday it rained, and felt like the longest day ever. I went downstairs to see the new girl in the office to pay for my room. I went to give her my youth hostel membership card, but she told me she didn't need it as she knew who I was as I'm the only one staying here, she said laughing.

Sunday in France is dead and a bit dreary, although luckily I could get coffee and some food places were open mornings only. I had no desire to cycle in the rain either.
I'd wanted to take the train to Perigueux some time, which is not that far south-east of Angouleme according to the map and which also has a youth hostel, but according to the train timetable I'd have to go all the way south to Bordeaux to get the connecting train to come all the way up again. Apart from the time factor and expense, I was not getting a good feeling about venturing too far south away from where I needed to get my return flight to London. Plus there wasn't a youth hostel actually in Bordeaux itself. The rail network is very good for going from north to south and vice versa, but less convenient from west to east, especially if you need the fast TGV trains. Nothing connects up the way you want it to, and buses are so infrequent that they are not worth bothering with.



After walking around town and finally finding a supermarket some way out in the modern part of town, I went back to the hostel to have a rest and a nap as I felt too tired to do any more walking. I woke up after a very strange dream. Time felt very strange too, and although my clock said 7.00 I had absolutely no idea whether it was 7.00am or 7.00pm, I was so disoriented. Considering I'd taken an early evening nap it was more likely to be the latter, only it didn't help to hear a cock crowing outside - although I read somewhere that they can crow at any time and sometimes do so all through the night. Because the sky was very cloudy and overcast, I couldn't tell if it was getting darker or lighter, and such light changes happen slowly here anyway. It is also not unusual for the weather to brighten up in the later part of the day, so sounds and light and clocks were not helping much while I was outside of linear time. I'm happy to be outside of my usual experience of time but when having to catch a train it does help to know what day it is.

There's no way I'm asking the new girl in reception what day it is, I thought to myself. She must have a 24 hour clock in the office. I went downstairs and asked the time. Nine o'clock she told me. "Er....is that Sunday?" I asked feeling a fool. Yes Sunday, she confirmed. Phew! The sky had more blue in it at 9.00pm than it had all day.

Walked into town and had a terrific lasagne plus the coffee was perfect. Don't know why I find the best places to eat when it's time to move on.