Oops! I missed my goal because when I took a quick look at the map I thought La Rochelle was at the mouth of the estuary, whereas in reality is a bit to the north, on the Atlantic coast (which means I will have to make a later trip to visit the estuary of La Gironde (which is the name given to the river formed by the joining of the rivers of La Dordogne and La Garrone).
After realizing that I
was being dragged north by the train I made a split moment decision and got
down at the station of Rochefort to get a bit of bicycling along the coast
before reaching La Rochelle. Ended being 30 km of coastal bike paths, very
pretty indeed. In former times this stretch must have been a series of coastal
lagoons and small estuaries, later taken by agriculture. But given that the
French are very ecologically minded, over the last decades there have been
positive efforts to restore some of these wetlands, which makes for a very
attractive region. The beaches are a big draw for tourists, and the small
coastal towns are beginning to vibrate with excitement as British and American
tourists start to be diluted by the influx of French families who are eager to
enjoy their summer vacation.
It was a bit early,
around 11h30, when I reached the beach-side village of Les Boucholeurs, about
half way between Rochefort and La Rochelle. The tide was low, and in the muddy
banks “flowers” of oysters were being exposed by the retreating water, looking
like oversized black dahlias. Oysters and mussels are a prized delicacy, so I
just had to stop at a small restaurant by the seawall to have a dozen fresh
oysters. I did have to wait until noon, however, which is the official start of
déjeuner, but the waiter was glad to bring me a beer to fill in the
time. The oysters came in a cute basket, fresh and clean (how do they get the
mud out?), garnished with seawater and a bit of red wine vinegar, but that was
it (oh, and there was the very present bread and butter). They were tasty, but
I would have liked to have some Tapatío hot sauce to go with them.
Maybe it was the good
lunch, or maybe I am just getting old, but the second leg of the trip was
definitely harder on my rear, legs, and the infamous right knee. When I finally
got to La Rochelle I was hot and tired, and ready to dismount and walk for a few
hours. Fortunately I was able to get into my lodgings early, to take a shower
and a siesta (it was about 2 pm), which refreshed me quite a bit. But it also
gave me time to reconsider the upcoming bicycle trip to follow the Portuguese
Camino de Santiago. We are going to be on the road for something like 7 days,
with legs that vary between 40 and 60 km per day. If 30 km along the coast do
this to me, what are those 7 days be like? I thought long and hard about it,
and at the end caved in and decided to join the rest of my group and rent an
e-bike for the trip. I am disappointed and feel like it is an acknowledgment
that I am getting too old to keep up with my life of adventure, but I need to
make sure I can make it to the end of the Camino.
That afternoon I went
for a long walk in the old part of the city, which is fairly attractive and
totally overrun by tourists. Cyclists and scooter riders are a complete pest,
and they zip in and out of streets crowded with slow moving people. Then again,
I have to say that tourists are also a pest, crawling at snail speed four-wide
on the sidewalks, so anyone trying to get anywhere has no option but to zig-zag
among them. Why do people have to stop to consult their phones at the narrowest
portion of the walkway?
Unfortunately I was
underdressed for the Atlantic climate, which happened to be sunny but with a
persistent cool wind blowing from the ocean. This means that when I boarded my
sunset catamaran sailing cruise I was promptly convinced that being on the
front nets was not going to be for me. Instead I took a front seat inside the
cabin, where I could see everyone else being sprayed by the cold ocean as the
catamaran plunged into the choppy seas. I did try once to get to the side to
get a nice picture of the setting sun (which I did), but the buffeting by the
wind and choppy waves promptly sent me back inside. I was very happy the
captain deployed the sails and had us run with the wind for a good hour and a
half, and was a very satisfied mariner by the time we came back to port.
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