A Serpentine Journey

Our next planned hop was a short one, a journey of some 40kms were we to go straight there. Of course, we didn’t. We would be passing the southern edge of the marais that had drawn our attention on the way to Piriac-sur-mer and a road cut up through the marais so it seemed a good opportunity to investigate a bit further.

The idea was fine in principle but a road closure at the beginning of our diversion sent us around a tortuous diversion of its own on twisting, relatively narrow roads through the backstreets of a small town. Eventually we regained the road that we had intended to be on beyond the road closure. I was not looking forward to returning on the same route.

The view from the Frodo’s cab gave no hints about a marsh, that we could see. In the village of Rozé we spotted an impressively tall belvedere structure, about four storeys high, clearly intended for views of the surrounding flat countryside. Furthermore, there was a handy-dandy car park near its base which – take note other authorities – had two specific motorhome parking areas which permitted a 24-hour stop.

From the BelvedereThe weather was dry but mainly overcast. I checked the nearby river for signs of life and found nothing, so we clambered up the stairs to the top of the belvedere. Sure enough, we now saw the marsh stretching out before us. In better conditions and with more time, it would have been an interesting place to dally further.

This wasn’t the day, though, so we continued to Francine’s first chosen port of call on the Île de Fédrun, one of seven islands of Saint Joachim. We made it to another car park which, sleepy though the area appeared, was big enough to take school buses so space was not a problem.

Chocolate BoxWe went for a wander, rather longer than intended. We did find one stretch of water but not with anything resembling access. We did find a chocolate box village with largely thatched buildings, some of which were in need of maintenance but others of which looked spick and span and achingly attractive..

AnguillesLunch beckoned and Francine had spotted a creperie beside a bridge that we had crossed on the way in. There is supposedly a Michelin starred restaurant here but a creperie would suffice and help the bank balance. It proved to be a fortunate choice because on offer was Persillade d’Anguilles, eels dressed in garlic and parsley. Francine is not a fan of eels but I am; she went for a ham, egg and goat cheese galette. We washed our lunch down with a bottle of cider served with the traditional bolée, a glazed pottery cup.

St. Nazaire BridgeTime to return to our original trajectory and find the campsite close to our intended attraction. With much relief, Francine found a route back which circumvented the serpentine twists of our inbound journey. We crossed the Saint Nazaire bridge and arrived at Camping La Dune de Jade at St. Brévin Les Pins, which is now less of a campsite and more of a mobile homes village. It’s a common but somewhat sad development of some campsites and at €200 a night for a cabin, you can see the attraction, especially if more and more motorhomers shun campsites to stop on free/cheap aires. There were still a few touring pitches, though, and we found one that suited Frodo.

And so [lose 100 points] to the reason that we are camped opposite a rather industrial-looking Loire estuary: the Serpent d’Océan,  a giant skeleton sculpture shaped like a slithering serpent. It is by Chinese-French artist Huang Yong Ping [so there]. He has clearly been to the same school of artist bull as Anthony Gormley because the twisting serpent is supposed to “reflect the twists of the Saint Nazaire bridge” before which it sits. Right.

The sculpture is positioned on the beach of the estuary so is partially covered at high tide and completely revealed, supports included, at low tide. I haven’t had a chance to play with my Big Stopper ND filter since a trip to Greece in 2022 and was keen to have a go at this subject. Wanting to blur the water movement, I needed the tide to be in.

Serpent d'Ocean (1 of 2)Serpent d'Ocean (2 of 2)After getting Frodo settled and working out how to carry my tripod whilst cycling, we climbed on our bikes to pedal the 4 kms or so up to the sculpture. Tide tables suggested the tide would be largely in and so it proved to be. Now to try to capture the beast whilst avoiding the irritating drone that was being flown at the same subject. I started with a rather obvious side-on shot which included the distracting opposite shore but then Francine found me a much cleaner head-on aspect. The day and subject were largely monochrome, so monochrome it is, then.

Reasonably satisfied; time to return for a pre-prandial and dinner.

Posted in 2025 France

Wind …

… wind and more wind, and salt.

We’d spent a pleasant enough Friday night at Camping Mon Calme and Saturday dawned bright. Saturday in Piriac-sur-mer is also market day so guess where we were going? We walked the 1km out of the back of the campsite down to the town where pretty much the first thing we saw were market stalls and boy, were they good.

We had already visited a modest market in the modest village of St. Aubin du Cormier but, pleasant enough though it was, there were a few stalls that we look for missing. Piriac-sur-mer made up for those shortfalls. Here we found not just one “spinning chicken” stall [we call the rotisserie chicken stalls spinning chickens] but three – spoilt for choice. With no local knowledge we selected one based largely on what it looked like, There was also an olive stall with a very pleasant lady offering tastings of her wares.

“Pas nécessaire, ils sont trés bon je suis sûr”, I ventured, and bought 200gr of picholines in garlic.

On our last Australian trip, Francine’s brother and sister-in-law presented us with a boxed seafood eating set, including an oyster shucking knife which was now in Frodo’s batterie de cuisine. Lo, there was a stall selling a whole range of graded oysters. We opted for a dozen #2s, which are quite large. The vendor also had a plastic hand protector which he also threw in for free.

Our plan, such as it was, was to have the spinning chicken for lunch and the oysters for a modest evening meal followed by cheese. Excellent.

OystersLast year, a friendly French man who was our neighbour on the Arçais campsite kindly presented us with 10 oysters from La Rochelle. I was not equipped but managed to shuck those with the foil cutter on our corkscrew. They were smaller, I think, and our dozen #2s proved a tougher proposition even with the correct equipment. Nonetheless, gastronauts that we are, I eventually managed to open the beasts and very good they were, too.

Sunday was apparently the French version of Mothers’ Day over here, the Fête des Mères. It began with some light rain overnight which relented and gave way to overcast. A meteorological disturbance was moving through and quite rapidly, at that. Accompanied by quite strong winds gusting to 40 kph or so, the overcast was replaced by mostly blue skies in the late morning.

Not wishing to waste a blue sky, we braved the wind and tried a bike ride down to Guérande, 6 or 7 kilometres away. Guérande is famous for its salt harvesting and we were keen to have a look. We didn’t have to work much on the way ‘cos we were wind assisted; coming back would be a different matter.

Salt pansWe are familiar with the salt pans at Gruissan down in the south on the Mediterranean coast, where the water tends to show a fabulous pink colour. It may be that were at a different juncture in the salt harvesting process, here, but there were no interesting colours. It is, however, a very extensive area.

Beginning our return the wind, as expected, began to get very irritating. Cycling into a strong headwind certainly needed some electric assistance. It was still a bit unpleasant, though.

Under a continuing blue sky but still in a strong wind, in the evening we tried sitting outside Frodo with a pastis and some of our olives. We braved it for 10 minutes or so but it really wasn’t pleasant enough, so we wimped out and went inside. Happily, the wind is forecast to abate tomorrow.

Posted in 2025 France

Heading for La Turballe

We did our housekeeping on Frodo, filling up the fresh water etc. and prepared to head for La Turballe, which is in the southern extreme of Brittany, a spit west of St. Nazaire. Our route would take us tantalizingly close to a large wetland/marais, apparently the second largest in France after the Camargue. This was Parc naturel regional de Brière. It seemed rude not to have a look on our way (almost) past.

Dainty DamselflyThe part we chose to stop at seemed to be more picnic area than wildlife marais. Still, in keeping with not being rude we disembarked and had a short squint at a couple of lakes close to the parking area. Action was very slow, to be honest, but just as I was thinking of giving it up as a bad job, I spotted a Dainty Damselfly (Coenagrion scitulum) mostly hiding behind a reed. These have something of a celebrity status in the UK, being restricted to parts of Kent. I’m not a fan of damselflies in flight but that’s about all I could manage of this one. It made the stop worthwhile.

We continued the last half hour to La Turballe but our first chosen campsite proved to be full for Friday night, though Saturday and Sunday were available. I’m used to the “coastal effect” being meteorological but there’s another coastal effect which is touristic: full campsites. In September, 2023 we had tried visiting the Basin d’Arcachon  when we suffered four full sites before eventually finding a fifth that did have a pitch for us. So, with slight misgivings, this time around we moved a little further west to another campsite at Piriac-sur-mer where we were relieved to find free pitches.

Bac-a-poissonWe’re at Domaine Mon Calme which seems to be a bit of a Brit stronghold, though it’s pleasant enough. I’d describe the pitches as adequate but the facilities are exceptional; they include something we have never before seen on any campsite: a Bac a Poisson – a dedicated, large fish preparation sink. That’s an indication of the sort of area we are in.

Piriac BeachWe had a wonderfully clear evening and Francine had a hankering for a paddle so she took herself off to the local beach, about 500m away. The water was very calm and it all looked quite restful. Walking back across the pebbles barefoot after paddling was a little less than restful but Francine says it was worth it.

Posted in 2025 France

Rain …

… rain, rain and more rain.

The inclement weather had been forecast for 21st. We had planned to drive to St. Aubin du Cormier, a journey just shy of 300kms, so why did it feel so long? It took us five hours. The weather was foul so maybe the arduous feeling was in some part due to the conditions. We briefly considered driving further but further would have been quite a lot further. I’m glad we stopped ‘cos we’re on a quite delightful small camping municipal of just 25 or so pitches beside a lake. The rain eventually stopped and the next two days are supposedly clement.

Frodo St AubinAs is often the case with camping municipals reception was not open in the afternoon; pitch up and pay up in the evening when someone turns up. Someone did turn up and we paid for two nights, basically €19 per night including electricity. We got Frodo settled in a nice secluded corner, which needed some levelling ramps.

St Aubin marketAfter a very quiet night, the following day was market day in St. Aubin, which we were looking forward to. It did not disappoint, though there might have been an olive stall for an aperitif. Neither was there a spinning chicken machine for dinner. We needed food for a couple of days, though, so we bought some rabbit and prune “pillows” for one night and crepinettes [faggots] for a second evening. We had some veggies that needed using that would accompany these.

After the market we repaired to Frodo for lunch, which was leftover paupiettes from a day or so ago.

St Aubin LakeThe early morning murk had by now dissipated and I was keen to see what our lake had to offer. Actually, there were two adjacent lakes, the smaller of the two with many lilypads. Things were a bit slow to begin with but, in the enjoyable afternoon sunshine, we eventually racked up a list of 11 species of dragonfly and damselfly. There was a twelfth, a demoiselle, but I didn’t see it and Francine didn’t see it well enough to identify. Not a bad haul, though.

Bar-headed GoosePerhaps the larger lake’s most curious inhabitant was a strikingly handsome Bar-headed Goose, more usually famed for its high altitude migration flights across the Himalayas. It is not native to Europe. This particular individual eventually left the water and stretched its wings, one of which was obviously clipped. So, it’s a captive bird but what is a captive bird doing swimming on a municipal lake, I wonder?

Posted in 2025 France

Honfleur lui même

Having arrived at Honfleur yesterday afternoon, the sunny weather continued and today we wandered into town to the honeypot harbour. We’d actually been here many years ago with American friends but I’m darned if I can remember anything about that except, of course, the American friends. It would’ve been around New Year and the temperature now was much more amenable.

A while ago I bought a new camera body, an Olympus OM-D mk 2, and I was keen to try it’s built-in neutral density filters going up to ND64, equivalent to 6 stops of light reduction. It’s an in-camera simulation so not quite the same as using a real ND filter. Maybe the harbour would give me the opportunity to play.

While I was staring at my camera’s menu system trying to figure things out, some guy waved a phone camera and asked if I’d take their picture.

“Sorry, I’m busy trying to do something”.

Mr. Grumpy didn’t want to be disturbed from sorting out his technology. What is it with these people?

Honfleur harbourAfter a while I thought I’d figured out what I needed to do and then set about trying various line ups and shots with some of the harbour buildings, boats and water. Busy though this shot is, I think it’s about my favourite. I’m fairly sure a tripod-mounted ND Big Stopper would’ve done better but this was a whole lot easier being hand held with no tripod needed.

Honfleur multiple 1Honfleur multiple 2Naturally, all these colourful  reflections were absolute manna for Francine and her multiple exposure bent. I think her hardest job was figuring out which way to point her camera; that and avoiding yet more boats intruding into the foreground. Whilst my Olympus is great for wildlife, it’s complete rubbish at multiple exposures so it’s not an area I feel comfortable playing in. I’m happy to leave it to the expert. Here’s a couple of Francine’s that I really like.

Honfleur apparently attracted artists because of its light and we’d both spent a happy hour or two doing what we could with it. It’s also a place for good seafood and we thought a lunch of Moule et frîtes would be appealing. We chose one of the many restaurants littering the harbour side – choice is the biggest problem – and settled down for a steaming bowl of mussels. We washed them down with a pichet of vin blanc.

PXL_20250520_105923153Erik SatieAfter lunch, as we wandered back towards our campsite, I couldn’t help but be taken with a van bearing the slogan, “Franco Solutions”. Well, I just had to have a snap of that. The van was parked in the street making a big deal of Maisons de Satie, properties of the composer Erik Satie, the walkway outside being appropriately decorated.

Not just painting artists, then.

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Posted in 2025 France

Travel Trauma

Francine had set a 05:00 alarm so we could leave at 05:45-ish and head for Le Shuttle. We found the correct route and way in and hit the self check-in gates. We were early so it offered us a train one hour before our booking. Well, OK. A boarding mirror hanger was spat out at us and we were let in.

Our boarding group, V3 , was soon called and we headed off to the next stage: passport control and security. Passport control, leaving the UK – no problem. Security – problem. We were funnelled off behind other campers where we sat waiting for someone to ask if our gas was off.

“Yes, do you want to see it?”

“No, I just want to know that it’s off. When the guys in front move, follow them.”

The guys in front didn’t move; they couldn’t. The security lanes are cunningly situated next to the main lanes which they have to filter (read “barge”) their way into but by now there is a solid queue of other vehicles, all trying to get through the same two French passport immigration checks.

PXL_20250519_061446482Long story short: we sat like lemons for 30+ minutes, made necessary by a single unchecked question, by which time our allotted train had gone. We finally boarded the next train, 30 minutes later but still earlier than our booked crossing, and sat behind a pretentious McLaren exotic sports car which for some reason had been loaded into the tall vehicles carriage despite being little more than two feet tall. We couldn’t help but notice that all the surrounding vehicles were boarding group W3. Hey ho.

Everything else was smooth and about 35 minutes later we disembarked on the French side.  We stopped for coffee after being passed by a couple more pretentious McLaren sports cars – clearly something had been organized –  before stopping again for shopping at Leclerc in Neufchâtel-en-Bray, near our more usual campsite.

BridgeMuch like the UK of late, the morning was overcast but it brightened nicely. We crossed the Pont de Normandie, a toll bridge, which is impressive but a little less so the the viaduc de Millau.

LighthouseEventually we reached our first intended stop at Honfleur. There is a campsite very handily placed on the outskirts of town within walking distance of the honeypot harbour. The site is called Camping du Phare, that being a lighthouse and the old lighthouse stands resplendent just outside the campsite.

PXL_20250519_132140243The pitches are fine and we were directed to one – saves the agony of choice – to get Frodo settled. He was happily automatically level with a little natural shade. The warm sunshine was very welcome.

After the necessary refreshment which had been purchased at our Leclerc stop, we went to stretch our legs. There was a park nearby which  was much more appealing that dealing with the honeypot harbour in mid-afternoon. The park was the Jardin des Personalités. Wandering around it we saw about a dozen busts, all lurking in hedging, but there was only one I’d ever heard of: Claude Monet. There was a chap who had basically founded Quebec but I’m afraid his name was unknown to me.

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Posted in 2025 France

Down to Folkestone

After the most extraordinary British spring that I can remember – lots of sun, little rain but quite cool easterly winds – we are once again running away to La Belle France.

We are starting this trip very differently for us, though. Having returned last year on Le Shuttle (The Channel Tunnel), this time we have decided to go over on it as well as return on it. The downside, if it is a downside, is that you can’t relax over a plateful of food on the train. We are also going over a week earlier than has been our norm, largely to avoid Satan’s Little Disciples in any of July and still get six weeks in.

I booked a relatively early Monday morning crossing at 07:45. So, we have to check in at least by 06:45. Travelling down on the same morning, would mean leaving home at 03:00. Sod that! We are too old and too wise; too many things could go wrong. A sleepless half night and then driving through part of France. I think not. So, we booked in to a Caravan Club site with special “ferry pitches” 15 minutes away from the tunnel and travelled down today, Sunday, the day before our train.

We left home just after midday and got to our campsite at about 15:00. The journey was straightforward. It’s a very well organized campsite. An envelope with your registration is left in a cabinet. The envelope contains the gate code for access and instructions on how best to get to both the tunnel and the ferry port. “Ignore your satnav”; frequently good advice.

There’s a handy-dandy pub a couple of hundred yards away in the village of Densole. We had thought it would be fun to eat in the pub but sadly the kitchen is closed after 15:00 on Sundays. So, we’ve brought a picnic for our evening meal. That didn’t stop us enjoying a couple of drinks in the Black Horse pub after we arrived, though. And very convivial it was, too.

Oh, Frodo has a shiny new dashcam. This was occasioned by a clash of wing mirrors during our return trip in the UK from Bempton Cliffs. [Don’t ask.] Finding a dashcam that fits in between his windscreen and overnight windscreen blinds was a bit of a challenge but it’s in. Rather like insurance, here’s hoping that we don’t need it.

Posted in 2025 France

New Book

Our good fortune with the Virginia weather continues.

With a day to ourselves, I came up with a cunning plan. In the middle-ish of Richmond is the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. Just south of that, on the southern side of the James River, is a park where I’d seen a number of dragonfly sightings reported. My plan was to take Francine to see the art works while the day was warming up, then repair to the park to see if we could find some November Odonata.

We managed to find the museum’s parking garage [$6] and found that the museum itself had no admission charge. We began exploring.

PXL_20241106_155645027One of the main attractions here is what was a private collection [Pratt collection], now bequeathed to the museum, of Fabergé jewellery. Surely the pieces of most interest and fascination must be five of the Fabergé Easter eggs.The workmanship and attention to detail is truly astounding. This is the Red Cross Egg with Imperial Portraits.

PXL_20241106_162835440PXL_20241106_162907729.MPAfter the sanity of Fabergé, we inevitably strayed into the more modern art works. These generally fall into the category of completely inexplicable, to me, anyway, a self-confessed artistic numbskull. What I do find entertaining, though, is the complete bollocks spouted by the artists attempting to “explain” their work. Here’s an example. Passage to India? Go figure.

PXL_20241106_162312223PXL_20241106_162333841Here is a another very odd example. This is actually a 3D work, I believe made of chunks of leather sewn together. The explanation had me rolling with laughter. At least this is Untitled. I mean, seriously, would you hang this on your wall? All artists must be taught how to come up with pseudo-intellectual descriptions.

I’ll stick with the Fabergé. We left the so-called artworks [personally, I think they’re all having a laugh], went to the museum’s café for some lunch and then left for a possible Odonata hunt.

Smoky RubyspotWe headed to the south side of the James River and the Pony Pasture Trail, where there is a rough car park. It was well used but there was plenty of space. I’d seen two locations worth investigating. The first was the rocky banks of the river itself where there had been several sightings of a couple of delightful American damselflies. My first approach was successful; a Smoky Rubyspot (Hetaerina titia) was perched on the first collection of rocks that I investigated. It was reasonably approachable, too.

American RubyspotA little further upstream another Rubyspot was perched on another rock and posing for the camera. Without the smoky wingtip, I was hoping that this would prove to be the American Rubyspot (Hetaerina americana). I need to wait to get other opinions, though.

We walked along to a second area of interest, a wetland area. Here there had been observations of two darters, which Americans refer to as Meadowhawks. I was hoping that I might see the Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum) but alas, it was not to be. This was my third piece of habitat where I drew a blank. The water was very low – the area needs rain – which may have been partly to blame. I was content with my Rubyspots, though.

A new book has been published on the “Dragonflies of North America”. One UK source that I use has it “available for pre-order” but I could find no expected date when it might become available. What I did find was that it is available already on Amazon in the States. So, I got it ordered to be delivered here, today, using our friend’s prime account.

It was here when we arrived back from our excursion and I was eager to check the identity of my new damselflies. As soon as I opened the book I got a bit of a shock.

There is no doubting the quality of the book’s production. Whereas my existing volumes [there are two] on American species are photographic, this new book uses illustrations with identification pointers. It is the first time I’ve ever seen illustrations to rival the quality of those drawn by Richard Lewington. I quickly realized that this book has a precisely accurate title, however.

Odonata comprises both Anisoptera and Zygoptera; Zygoptera being the damselflies and Anisoptera being the dragonflies. Increasingly in our modern, somewhat dumbed-down world however, “dragonflies” is often used to encompass both sub-orders, in other words to be a synonym of Odonata. That confusion requires another common term, “true dragonflies”, to mean the Anisoptera. [No, I don’t like it.]

My first glance in my new book made me realize that it did, indeed, perfectly accurately cover ONLY the dragonflies and NOT the damselflies. Given the modern parlance, it was not what I expected. I can only hope that a second companion volume my be produced, but I won’t hold my breath.

So, beautiful book though it is, I’ll still need another source to verify my new damselflies.

Posted in 2024 USA

Shit Happens

[The second of our planned scary days on this trip to the States.]

This one really was scary, much more so than Halloween, and a lot less fun. Today was the day of the American presidential election.

Before the shit well and truly hit the fan in the evening, after doing her duty by voting, our host took us out to visit a couple of Virginia’s many vineyards and, boy, were we going to need a drink.

IMG-20241107-WA0001IMG-20241107-WA0002First up was the Fifty-third Winery and Vineyard, so called, apparently, because it was the 53rd vineyard in Virginia. Here we came across the concept of “flights”. A flight is a tasting selection, in our case of four of their wines. We both had two whites and two reds. Our whites overlapped but our reds were different [there were more dry reds than dry whites] so, in effect, we tasted six wines. Our favourite was a white Albariño, just about our favourite Spanish white grape. We bought a bottle for later.

IMG-20241107-WA0003Next up was Keswick Vineyard; over here the “w” is not silent. We had just half an hour before heading back for what promised to be a very scary evening so we just bought a bottle of wine to share between us. Viognier being our favourite French white wine, we chose that from their menu. I have to say that it was almost as good as the Beauvignac Viognier from the south of France … and considerably more expensive.

The rest, by the time anyone reads this, is history. We watched in horror as the earlier results of the American election came in, with Trump over-performing compared to last time and Harris under-performing compared to Biden when he scraped in. I felt I could feel the entire rest of the western world holding its collective breath. It was all far too depressing.

The morning results were even worse. America had overwhelmingly elected an ignorant, narcissistic pathological liar; he’d swept up all seven of the so-called swing states. This was little short of a disaster for sanity, the west and, indeed, the world. It was unbelievable to me that so many people could vote for such an egotistical maniac.

Welcome to America.

Posted in 2024 USA

Tuckahoe Creek Park

A few miles away from where we are staying on the west side of Richmond, Virginia, lies Tuckahoe Creek Park. Francine spotted it on a map. Tuckahoe Creek flows around the property we are lodged in but it is inaccessible, here, being heavily wooded and fenced off from all the building work going on as yet more large buildings are constructed for more elderly inmates. So, an opportunity to see it from an accessible position was appealing.

There is a route through the park with a car park at one end and street parking at the other end. For some reason we opted for the street parking end and set off.

IMG-20241107-WA0000We found a very well constructed boardwalk, complete with metal safety rails, that meanders its way through the park beside a delightful stretch of wonderful looking fresh water habitat. There was a slightly cool breeze but the sun shone. It was glorious.

Long story short: we spotted not a sign of any odonata. I checked on iNaturalist and there are reports of dragonflies from here but not today, sadly.

Brown ThrasherAt the beginning of our wander along the boardwalk we did, though, manage to add to my extremely limited collection of American bird species. Skulking about in the wooded area was something resembling a thrush but with considerably longer tail. We identified it as a Brown Thrasher (Toxostoma rufum); aren’t some common names wonderful?

Eastern BluebirdPerched in a tree nearby the Brown Thrasher was a female Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis), though being a female it wasn’t at all blue. With the reddish brown breast I initially wrote it off as another American Robin but, no. Luckily I corrected my assumption; the American Robin has more extensive red on the breast.

Other than some turtles, possible Eastern Painted Turtle (Crysemys picta) swimming in the creek, that was the day’s interest. It was a very pleasant excursion to a restful environment, though.

Posted in 2024 USA