Nantes | Anecdotage

The first sight to greet us on crossing the bridge over half of the Loire to Ile de Nantes is the Palace of Justice- a vast, modern, glass building in elegant black. We turn right at the end of the bridge and walk by the river for a few minutes.

We’ve walked quite a bit since we left the tram, so when we happen upon a small cafe, we dive in- and it’s a little gem; a tiny, cosy cafe dedicated to all things…Anglais- There’s Union Jack bunting, the walls are adorned with pictures of the royal family and there are traditional British treats like scones and Victoria sponge on the counter. I’m aware that it might appear odd for us to be charmed by coming across a British-themed cafe, being British ourselves, and we do, of course, love all things French, but it’s a novelty we can’t resist.

So we order scones and tea and settle at a table, discovering, on a shelf next to me, a range of masks, supposedly iconic British persons- an eccentric selection consisting, among others, of Prince Harry and Liam Gallagher.

In addition to all of this, the toilet is wallpapered with a huge photo of the entire royal family and boasts various Brit-themed knickknacks.

Having spent an enjoyable time in the cafe, we’re reinforced to continue, and once we’ve turned the corner of the block and emerged into a large square, we can see what we’ve come for: The massive, working, walking, flying machine beasts of Nantes.

We’re in luck, because the elephant, which is the biggest and most impressive beast, is about to walk out of the entrance of the hangar, carrying a load of enthusiastic passengers and piloted by a man driving a ground level motor. It is a wonderful and thrilling sight as it places its giant, mechanical feet at each lengthy step and makes its slow, majestic way around to the back of the hangar.

We’re excited enough by the elephant to want to see the remaining beasts demonstrated inside so we buy tickets and wait, alongside the many other visitors while the previous ‘tour’ is concluded. The machines are fascinating- a huge bird [a phoenix?], a chameleon whose tongue shoots out to catch a bug, an enormous spider with luminous eyes. Some have paid to ride the creatures alongside the operators, pulling handles to create movement. We are, of course, flummoxed by much of the narration but this doesn’t seem to matter.

Before leaving, we visit the gift shop to see if there’s a little something for our naff shelf, although there really isn’t anything cheap or nasty enough. We settle for a tiny tin of sweets bearing a picture of the elephant, which feels like copping out.

That, then, was a fitting finale for the day in this amazing city and we retrace our steps back to the centre to find a tram that will take us back to our site. We’ll be off again in the morning- but not home quite yet.

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com

Arthur: the young man in reception’s name tag informs us. He steps around his desk towards us, all other staff being occupied. It’s clear from the outset that we’re not the standard of tourers he’d like to be welcoming to the site, as a curling sneer hovers around his lips.

I begin in my [not too shabby] French. Here I feel compelled to add that plenty of Frenchmen and women have complimented me on my delivery of the language. The exceptions have tended to be young men, like Arthur.

‘Would I prefer him to speak English?’

I capitulate. He casts me a pitying look and tells us that only the most expensive pitches are available. I look at him. Does he assume, then, that we don’t appear as if we can afford it? Husband steps up. We’ll have 2 nights!

In spite of little Arthur, we make our way to the posh pitch- although I’m at pains to see why they’re more expensive. It’s a small patch next to a tiny square of grass with a picnic table. The piece de resistance seems to be the shed type building, to which we have a key. No- this is not a personal bathroom- this is indeed a shed, containing a scruffy, cold water sink, a fridge [useful] and some loungers. I’m not sure whether these will be used given that the pitch is almost entirely shaded- still, we’re not here to lounge around.

Where are we? We’re at Nantes- in a site we’ve attempted to get into before with no success, it being stubbornly ‘complet’, hence the fact that we’re prepared to pay extra for the pitch. Otherwise the site is fine- if pricy and has a bar/cafe of sorts.

We’re on a tram route into the city. We need to work out how to buy tickets, then we’re set. It’s just a question of gauging when we’re at the centre. I have a slight moment of panic when our tram comes, Husband gets on and the door closes- leaving me on the outside, but when I press the door button it opens. All good; I’m not about to be stranded not knowing where to alight in Nantes.

Using the map on the wall, we take a guess at our stop and get off. First impressions are of a huge and imposing city with massive, elegant buildings and wide streets and pavements. Wow!

We’re not so impressed by the portacabin toilets near the cathedral, though. They are in a thoroughly revolting state and unusable. The cathedral is, itself, disappointing, since while the exterior looks wonderful, it is encased in fencing due to needing repairs from a fire. Ho hum…

Nantes has a photogenic chateau with a big wow factor and great views from the top of the walls, which makes up for the cathedral’s parlous state. The chateau contains a museum, but there’s too much to see in Nantes for us to use up the time.

The majestic Loire travels through this city, dividing up for an island, the Ile de Nantes. There’s something thrilling to see on the island, so we head that way and across the footbridge…

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com

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