One of the joys of having a rental car is that we can look at a map and say 'Let's go there today!' which is exactly what we did on this glorious Sunday morning. 'There' is Ile de Re which is connected to La Rochelle via a 3km bridge and looked like it might be a fun place to see, kind of Rehoboth Beach and the Hamptons, with crepes.
But first a stop at The Maritime Museum in La Rochelle's harbor.
There is an indoor exhibit of the port's history (all in French so we didn't learn very much) and then a visit aboard a French meteorological research vessel.
After a tour of the crew and officers' quarters, we head for the galley (where else?) and Tim is wowed by the equipment.
Prominently displayed is a menu for Christmas dinner 1967, complete with the accompanying wines.
And the view from the prow into the harbor . . . Tim no doubt thinking of his many weeks aboard aircraft carriers.
Off to Ile de Re! We have no idea where we're going - or even why - it just looks like a neat spot. The map shows a town near the island's very tip called St. Martin de Re which turns out to be quite the French tourist mecca. It's a residents only auto zone so we park and walk a short way before coming out into a delightful and scenic town square which immediately reminded both of us of Mykonos, without the pelicans.
Obviously there is a huge tide here as the boats in the marina are accessible at low tide via some challenging steps.
We're drawn to a church just off the square which, like so many in France, looks like it dates back to the 14th or 15th century or perhaps even earlier.
Above, the original, unrestored portion; below, the restored interior which is quite grand. We're both surprised by the wooden ceiling.
On our drive back to the bridge, I insist Tim come to a screeching halt. I've just spotted the most remarkable-looking creatures, a herd of Poitou donkeys (I didn't know that's what they were until I got home and looked them up; I thought this was some kind of weird French yak!).
Wow, talk about a bad hair day!!
Apparently, there are a couple of times a year when you can saddle up a Poitou and have a ride about (they're as big as mules), complete with bloomers, the donkeys that is!
Au revoir Ile de Re, St. Martin, and donkeys.
.
But first a stop at The Maritime Museum in La Rochelle's harbor.
There is an indoor exhibit of the port's history (all in French so we didn't learn very much) and then a visit aboard a French meteorological research vessel.
After a tour of the crew and officers' quarters, we head for the galley (where else?) and Tim is wowed by the equipment.
Prominently displayed is a menu for Christmas dinner 1967, complete with the accompanying wines.
On to the bridge where I get to channel my inner captain . . .
And the view from the prow into the harbor . . . Tim no doubt thinking of his many weeks aboard aircraft carriers.
Off to Ile de Re! We have no idea where we're going - or even why - it just looks like a neat spot. The map shows a town near the island's very tip called St. Martin de Re which turns out to be quite the French tourist mecca. It's a residents only auto zone so we park and walk a short way before coming out into a delightful and scenic town square which immediately reminded both of us of Mykonos, without the pelicans.
Obviously there is a huge tide here as the boats in the marina are accessible at low tide via some challenging steps.
We're drawn to a church just off the square which, like so many in France, looks like it dates back to the 14th or 15th century or perhaps even earlier.
Above, the original, unrestored portion; below, the restored interior which is quite grand. We're both surprised by the wooden ceiling.
On our drive back to the bridge, I insist Tim come to a screeching halt. I've just spotted the most remarkable-looking creatures, a herd of Poitou donkeys (I didn't know that's what they were until I got home and looked them up; I thought this was some kind of weird French yak!).
Wow, talk about a bad hair day!!
There are only 200 of them in the world; 19 of them are on Ile de Re. They are gentle, sweet, friendly creatures, and no one seems to know where they got their dredlocks or why. Years ago, 'farmers' on the Ile harvested salt from the marshes, and the donkeys were used to transport the bagged salt from the marshes to a drying shed. The sweetest thing I read was that the farmers' wives were so distressed that the donkeys' legs were being scratched and bitten while in the marshes, they made bloomers for them out of old tablecloths!
Apparently, there are a couple of times a year when you can saddle up a Poitou and have a ride about (they're as big as mules), complete with bloomers, the donkeys that is!
Au revoir Ile de Re, St. Martin, and donkeys.
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