Île de Ré – what a discovery! Days 12-19 Part Two

Our second adventure by bike saw us heading out to the Loix peninsula. It’s almost entirely surrounded by tidal waters and is joined to the rest of the island by a couple of causeways. The locals sometimes describe the Île de Ré as being comprised of four ‘islands’ so it felt like quite an adventure as we made our way across the causeways…

Having looked at a couple of salt sellers on our previous ride, Mrs B stopped to buy some at one which had a good range on offer, with some interesting information boards…

...with a salutory reminder of what such a salty environment can do your bike if not maintained…

...with the chap that produced the salt busy working the pans in the background…

Working up an appetite as we headed towards Loix, we decided that we should stop at a small oyster shack to recharge…

...enjoying a delicious seafood platter and local bio rosé…

...before heading off again to see the much vaunted and sheltered ‘swimming’ bay on the Grouin peninsula (we preferred our own stretch!)…

Heading back towards the route home, Mrs B discovered this artisan herb/teas and essential oil producer, Les Aromatiques de Ré...

And her excitement levels increased exponentially when she discovered that he distilled ‘immortelle’ – an essential oil she last bought when we were on Corsica! It’s available in the UK (at great expense) but always better when you can get it direct from the producer, and even better when it’ organic, as this was. And the smell from the plants growing outside the workshop was divine! But… he’d sold out, and the next batch wouldn’t be ready for a couple of days... So we left, hoping that we would be able to work a re-visit in before we left the island…

Retracing our route back across the causeways, Mr B was reminded of Shoreham lock gates when we had to wait for a seeming endless procession of cyclists to cross this raised wooden section…

...where we waited for a chance to take a picture with no-one on it, but gave up!

Making the decision about when would be best to leave the island was not easy – it really was starting to feel like another one of those places we can just stay for ages… but we could see that the weather was due to change, so made the most of our time left in good weather to perfect our beach skills, and being able to eat outdoors…

...with that ring around the moon letting us know the weather was changing...and the sun was setting on our idyllic summer-style beach life…

With just one day left on the island, we made the most of the dull but dry weather and headed off in Evie to the far north of the island, the lighthouses at Phare des Baleines, so named because of the frequent (and unexplained to this day), beaching of whales there over the centuries. Luckily, the most recent was in 1922!

We are frequently drawn to these ‘end of the world’ type places and this didn’t disappoint. Although we decided to pass on the tour up the ‘modern’ 1854 tower…

...or the older Vauban era (1682) one…

...we did however, at last, manage to sample ‘moules au curry’ – famous in the La Rochelle area and something we had aimed to try on our ‘not La Rochelle’ trip where Mr B had us 40 miles up the coast in error…

We always feel pretty full after moules et frîtes, so we took a stroll around the coastal path...

 where we saw a beach that was used in the D-Day landing film, The Longest Day...

...and where, in spite of Mr B’s nonchalant pose, we could plainly see that the much talked about tail of a hurricane/storm Amy was building out to sea…

Heading back home via the essential oils producer (of course!) we packed everything down ready to depart the next morning. And we were glad we had got everything indoors as the rains and strong winds arrived with a vengeance that night. Even though we were protected and in the lee of the dunes, the howling wind did little to help us sleep. 

And we were glad of those sand ‘tapis’ as we drove off the much wetter site the next morning! Knowing only that we were heading north to the Breizh/Normandie coast, and grateful that on the journey across the 3 kilometre bridge from the island back to La Rochelle we only experienced moderate buffeting, as the waves thrashed beneath us and the bridge stays sang an eerie departure song, we plotted a route north that would avoid the pitfalls we had experienced on the way south, and we gave Marans a wide berth!

With a lot of the south of the island unexplored, we have a sneaking suspicion we may well be back to the Île de Ré...

S&J

07.10.25

Île de Ré – what a discovery! Days 12-19 Part One

...what could possibly go wrong, he said! 

Well, it all started so well as we bowled along towards La Roche-sur-Yon, making good progress south towards La Rochelle. Until we hit one of those ambiguous ‘route barrée’ signs that might mean you can wiggle around and get to where you are going – or not!

Heading south of Luçon we figured we’d be able to wiggle around Marans, where the road was blocked. But we hadn’t anticipated just how difficult, and slow, it would be… So with Mrs B at the wheel and Mr B on the phone to reception at Camping Municipal Le Remondeau in la Courade-sur-Mer (thanks Tony and Jonquil!) we were mightily relieved to hear that they operated a late arrival box, should we not make it by 1800. With Mrs B taking no prisoners on the road, we arrived at 1758, to be met by the smiling receptionist that Mr B had been in conversation with – phew!

We were allocated a pitch at the top end of the site in the dunes – and for the first time ever, we were instructed to make sure we only parked on the ‘tapis’ which we understood to mean carpet. Bewildered why we would be parking on carpet, and thinking it may be loosely used to describe some form of hard standing material, it all became clear as we drove past the other pitches on the way to ours: each pitch was provided with strips of sand mats, which you can make out in the photo below:

After setting up camp Babley for what we guessed might be a stay of longer than three days, having seen the beach and been given a booklet about the numerous cycle-ways on the island; we were treated to a very peaceful starry night, with the sound of the Atlantic waves washing gently on the shore the other side of the dunes we were on – perfect!

And what a beach! Perfect for strolling on and miles in either direction…

… and just right for a relaxing day reading and strolling – which we are well practised in perfecting!

One of the things we had said we would try for on this trip, was to get to see some live music, having really enjoyed Jean-Paul Albert in Concarneau on our last trip. And when Mr B returned from exploring the local shops and excitedly announced that there was an Irish band playing Celtic music at a nearby bar, Mrs B was imagining we would be on for something similar. So when Mr B clarified that it was a Celtic metal band, and expectations had been recalibrated, we decided we would give it a go!

Arriving at the Le Ragoteur bar to the sound of loud and raucous pub-rock music, we settled in to appreciate the Irish/Celtic spin that had been advertised. With one of the musicians alternating between fiddle and bouzouki, it looked promising…

… although the cowboy hat did have us wondering… Eventually the fluent French spoken by all the musicians, and the Franglais pronunciation of a lot of the English language lyrics gave the game away: Three Beers Later is actually a French pub rock band, with dress and musical leanings towards the Celtic! And although not quite what we had expected, it was a great evening, with lots of the locals (who had dressed appropriately) getting properly stuck in…

With the band showing no signs of stopping as midnight approached, we headed back to Evie with our ears ringing and our faces smiling at such a fun night!

As we had driven up the island towards our site at La Couarade, we saw what looked suspiciously like a Vauban fort, having been lucky enough to have camped inside the one at Blaye, further down the coast on a previous visit. Sure enough, St Martin de Ré was indeed an enclosed Vauban fort, built to keep those pesky English at bay in the late 1600s! And with what looked like an interesting cycle path across the salt pans to get there, we decided to explore by bike and make a day of it.

With the sun shining we were soon out on the salt flats, a very otherworldly landscape with the cycle trails zigzagging across the tidal marais…

...with artisan salt sellers touting their wares from self service honesty box shacks…

...running alongside the seashore on a number of occasions…

...and a number of seafood shacks, some more upmarket than others…

...until we reached one of the entrance gates…

The fort walls were designed to protect the town itself and once the other side of the gate, we found ourselves amongst some very picturesque backstreets…

...as well as the touristy areas near the port, where we found this trousered donkey (once used to protect their legs from insect bites when working in the marshes, now maintained to entertain the visitors)…

Having swerved the seafood shacks on our ride into the town for another day, we decided to have a look instead for a culinary alternative – and we quickly set our sights on a busy café in the covered market offering galettes. Mr B was soon chatting to the owner when she asked whether he was sure he wanted andouille in his (pork chitterlings and tripe – he did!)…

...and with a bottle of Breton cider to wash the galettes down…

...we were then persuaded to have a sweet crêpe for dessert. It would have been rude to say no of course, so our after lunch activities took on a more leisurely pace, taking time to admire the views from the sea wall…

...consider whether we had time for the Ernest Cognacq art and history museum…

...seeking shade by the lighthouse to let lunch go down…

...before mounting up and riding further around the fort walls where we discovered this great value Aire alongside the municipal campsite in the battlements…

...and some actual donkeys (without trousers) just outside the walls of the prison (once used for holding prisoners before they were sent off to the overseas penal colonies, now just a regular gaol)…

As we cycled back to the campsite we chatted about how great France appears to be at accommodating campers inside historical monuments – part of the ‘access for the people’ approach of the municipalities to camping that whilst in decline in some areas, still seems to be going strong in others! We also chatted about how we must make sure, after some serious beach time of course, to get organised for a seafood adventure out on the salt flats…

S&J

06.10.25 

South to the Sub, a mediaeval fayre, the Nantes/Brest canal, and biscuit-beach heaven, with more oysters of course! Days 7 – 11

Sated with seafood for the moment, we decided, much to Mr B’s immense pleasure, that we would, at last, include a stop on our route south at the WW2 submarine pens at St Nazaire – hurrah! But first, as we just can’t help ourselves, we decided to drop in at a nearby château at Combourg which Mrs B had been reading about. And as we had left our campsite early enough to stop there for lunch, we imagined a quiet picnic in the grounds…

We should have guessed when we parked up a short walk away from the château and could hear live music, that something was afoot, and as we arrived at the entrance we were surprised to see people milling about in mediaeval garb; lots of people, including children! Luckily for us, we had arrived on a day that was given over to a ‘Tournois de Chevalerie’ which sounded suspiciously like a jousting tournament to us! We’d always fancied seeing one, but had never been in the right place at the right time, so how serendipitous was this! And as you can see in the photo, this promised more than knights in shining armour…

Wandering around the grounds it was great to see how many families and their kids had dressed up in period costumes. We quickly worked out where the music we had heard was coming from when we stopped to watch three very entertaining troubadours with electric versions of mediaeval style instruments…

… followed by a hilarious fire eater (who wouldn’t have looked out of place at an alternative music festival) and had the crowd (including those children) in his fiery pocket the entire show…

… and soon it was time for the jousting to commence…

This turned out to be a little slower than we had expected, and although the horses and riders were very skilled, and their costumes magnificent, we were pleased once the dressage-style bits were over and it was time for knight-to-knight combat! This turned out to be quite scary, with lances shattering on shields, and a couple of the combatants clearly nursing injuries they hadn’t anticipated!

Conscious that we still had the drive south to make a dent in, we bade farewell to the fayre…

… and after a short detour around Combourg due to a combination of road closures for the fayre, and the inevitable déviations, we headed off in the direction of St Nazaire, with Mrs B scanning Park4Night to look for a suitable sleepover. Having just spent three nights on a site, we were ready for the delights of a small Aire somewhere rural. And Mrs B came up trumps again, choosing one at Glénac once we were a good way south west of Rennes.

Even with the photos and reviews on P4N it’s impossible to tell whether we’ll like one of these stop-overs until we actually arrive, or indeed whether there will be any space. We don’t always have luck on our side either, which we discovered as we pulled into the designated area to see that all the grass parking spaces were occupied… It was only when we checked the photos on P4N that we spotted that there was one space left at the entrance – which in our view was the best spot, as it had views over to the nearby lake, and was on hardstanding – a big bonus after the recent heavy rain!

When we arrive somewhere new, if we have time and there’s still daylight, we like to have a little wander to get a sense of the locale. Glénac is a small hamlet, but it’s right on a lake that lets onto the Nantes/Brest canal…

Mr B had made a mental note that we might get somewhere near it on this trip, and without realising it, we had found somewhere right on it to park up! Of course, this meant that a cheeky bike ride had to be scheduled – surely? 

We slept that night like the dead (always amusing next to a cemetery, as Aires in small villages often seem to be) and the decision to stay another night was an easy one to make! As there was nowhere open to buy the obligatory baguette in Glénac itself, we decided to make a circular ride, starting on the canal and then visiting nearby St-Vincent-sur-Oust, which appeared (according to Mr B’s research) to have two boulangeries… Except, as we discovered after a brief chat with possibly the village’s oldest inhabitant (who on hearing our foreign accents proudly told us she had been to Paris) that the boulangerie wasn’t opening until 2026, and the depot-de-pain wouldn’t have bread, naturally, as it was a Monday… Cursing our forgetfulness (no-bread-Mondays are quite common in rural France) we chanced a visit to the local café that was also the not-today depot-de-pain. With no pastries or much else tempting our fancies, Mr B had a quick café alongée accompanied by a pear, whilst Mrs B reflected once more on his route planning skills. At €1.20 (no charge for the pear as the bar owner had clearly taken pity on Mr B) this was one of our cheapest, and quickest ever café stops! With hindsight, perhaps we should have adopted the approach of a fellow campervanner who we got talking to: she had set off looking for the nearby depot-de-pan, found it closed, got talking to a local, got a lift to a nearby village where the boulangerie was open - and returned with baguette and pastries! 

With nothing to lose, we headed off in the direction of the canal, with Mrs B making notes to self to pack emergency back-up food for subsequent rides. The ride back made it all worthwhile, and although baguette and café-free, proved to be very picturesque indeed…

… with intriguing arrangements on some boats moored by the lock at la Maclais…

We arrived back at Evie in time for a quick stroll to watch the sun setting over the lake…

… and for Mr B to engage a fisherman in conversation over a nearby sign in French describing varieties of fish that may be caught, but which included the not very French sounding ‘black bass’. It turned out (apparently) that it’s a hang over from WW2 GIs that moved to France and imported this much sought after game fish, famed for its pluck and fight! Whilst Mr B was wondering out loud whether there is no end to the things you can learn on a campervan trip, Mrs B had headed back to Evie, wondering altogether different thoughts! 

The next morning we were woken by the (very) nearby church bells at 0700. Mr B counted 150 chimes – and we both wondered how on earth we had slept through them the day before? Feeling a little less well-slept than we had anticipated, we set off on our relatively short drive to St Nazaire. Short in distance it may have been, but with the dock area in chaos with numerous roadworks and route barrées challenging Mr B’s patience pants, even though Mrs B was driving, we eventually arrived in the parking area for the Espadon submarine.

Located opposite the massive U-boat pens, Mr B had chosen this spot as it gave the best view of the pens on the opposite side of the harbour. The pens themselves are impressive feats of wartime engineering by the Germans, and are also are a stark reminder of some of the inhumanity of the Nazi regime when you learn that they were built using slave/prisoner labour from occupied territories by the notorious military engineering outfit, Organisation Todt.

Visiting the Espadon allowed a visit to an actual submarine (a first for both of us), once part of the French navy’s strategic fleet. The sub visit included a clever audio guide that explained things clearly, as well as providing authentic sub-like sounds as visitors reached different parts of the boat.

Built in 1960, and decommissioned in 1985, the sub was cramped and smelly as we expected, and seemed very old fashioned indeed – especially the electronics. 

Admiring how the crew of 65 would have coped with very small living and sleeping quarters…

...we were still surprised that they shared just one shower – which was seawater!

Mr B couldn’t help himself but pose with his hand on the mock-up of the torpedo launch button…

The sub is located in one of the old WW2 pens…

...with views over the harbour from the roof, which included a useful (for Mr B) comparison of old and new solar panel technologies on the roofs of Evie and a demountable camper parked next to her…

… as well as views over the adjacent wind turbine factory and assembly plant…

Returning to Evie for a cuppa before we headed off across the massive (and now toll free) bridge over the estuary, we admired this old and much loved Mercedes camper…

… before we drove the relatively short distance to our next stop – an ACSI site at the amusingly named St-Michel-Chef-Chef. We had chosen this stop not only for a photo-op of Mrs (chef) B…

… but it was close enough to get to before closing at 1800, as Mr B had discovered when phoning ahead to check for vacancies. And we were glad he had, as we were allocated the last but one of the 27 pitches on arrival! Loads of campervans and busy sites does seem to be a thing these days!

We quite like these small sites that have a mix of residents in their chalets, with a transient population of touring campers, as they are generally well run and maintained. And Camping le Vieux Château delivered! It even had a dedicated seafood sink…

We arrived expecting to stay just one night, but, as is becoming a trend with us, we decided to stay for three, once we had discovered the amazing beaches…

...allowing Mrs B to recharge her batteries… 

...and discovered that the town was home to our favourite French biscuit of all time, the St Michel galette 1905, where we just had to pay homage…

… and that there were cycling routes a-plenty, where, as we paused to catch our breath on a longer than anticipated ride, a friendly local offered to take a pic of us together…

We had originally set off to get to the lighthouse on the nearby point, but, after an hour of wending our way along some very picturesque coastline, admiring and anxious in equal measures as we used the ‘shared’ car/bike lanes where we were often riding against the direction of the vehicles, and, perhaps getting lost at one point, we decided to call it a day and make our way back, into the gathering headwind! Luckily for us, as we reached the end of the road our site was on, we discovered a lovely little oyster shack, where of course we decided we had earned yet another plate of oysters and a glass of chilled white…

With enough time the next (and final) day for Mr B to nip to the local boulangerie/patisserie to buy a wholeKouign Aman to freeze and parcel out as we headed further away from Breton influenced pastries…

...we made a relatively early start (for us), as we knew we had a longish day ahead on the road as we headed off towards La Rochelle, somewhere we had tried to visit before, but, as Mrs B recalled, it had all gone a bit wrong when Mr B had miscalculated the distance form the site he had chosen, to La Rochelle. (Regular readers may recall this episode back in June 2023!).

We were heading to the Île de Ré, somewhere we had never been before, after hearing about it from our good friends and fellow travellers, Tony and Jonquil who stayed there in the summer, just before they met up with us in southern Breizh. Mr B had phoned ahead and booked three nights on the interweb, as advised by reception. Reception didn’t close until 1800 and it was only a three hour drive according to Google, so what could possibly go wrong?

S&J 30.09.25