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Between Champagne and Paris I had six very enjoyable days staying with Eideann in a gite (apartment) outside a tiny village called Cussay in the Loire Valley. It was such a joy to be with her and we both appreciated the opportunity to spend time together. Janet and Stephen, the owners of the gites and the equestrian centre where Eideann is working, were generous hosts and gave us the use of a car in which Eideann zipped us from town to town and showed me the countryside. She is fluent in French which was evident as she chatted away to the staff in shops, restaurants and sites that we visited and it was lovely to see her so comfortable in the environment.
Not surpisingly Eideann was great company and a perfect tour organiser. She took me to local villages including Ligueil and Loche where we shopped at local markets, picnicked and explored the Chateau de Loche. We went to the annual Rose Festival at Chedigny, saw the burial place of Leonardo da Vinci and climbed the stairs from dungeons to towers of the Chateau de Amboise. At sunset one evening we even clambered about the disused priory in Le Louroux and the tiny cemetery nearby. Eideann somehow managed to organise a facial for me for Mothers Day and took me to a chocolatier on the outskirts of a nearby town to buy a present for my own lovely mother back in Australia – we might have bought some for ourselves too to top up those Eideann gave me for my birthday. We also had a moment straight of jaws while picnicking next to the pond in Loche when I tickled the water to see if I could attract the fish. Three of the largest goldfish I have ever seen came immediately across the pond, led by a large grey one complete with dorsal fin breaking the surface as he made a b-line for my finger. I resisted Eideann’s subsequent requests to stand in the water so that she could get a photo.
Food naturally occupied an entire part of the visit on its own. We had a beautiful dinner in a Michelin 1 star restaurant, fresh pasta from the market, wonderful cheese and beautiful dinners and lunches in restaurants across the area. One of the most memorable evenings was at the house of a gorgeous lady introduced to Eideann by Janet. Gayle is a quintessentially English woman who has lived around the world and is returning to painting having been a very successful artist some years ago. We sat in what can only be called idyllic surrounds – at a beautifully set table under a little marquis in a lush garden with very content horses meandering next to us, a Labrador and English Pointer cavorting around and chickens casually wandering across the lawn as the sun slowly set towards the end of our meal. Gayle and her husband bought the magnificent house and grounds several years ago, living through the renovations that these houses seem to often need (new electricals, plumbing, heating etc) to great effect.
We were served a wonderful meal of potato soup (the only ones, she told us, that she had found that don’t naturally mash), poached salmon and salad topped off with bowls of cherries for dessert. Naturally all of this was washed down with several glasses of Mumm and some wide ranging conversation. Gayle echoed my own enthusiastic approach to child-rearing by telling us stories that included a friend’s child falling into a bonfire (not seriously hurt) and escaping from a stampeding herd of cows headed towards their picnic spot which had been reached by dragging a pusher through fields and over fences. She had previously lived in Zimbabwe and has a great affection for the people and country so we talked about the experiences and work of David Pocock (Wallaby player) and the Australian Story that documented his family’s flight to Australia. I can see why Eideann and Janet think so highly of her.
Janet and Stephen have also transformed the two properties that they own – one with their house and the gites and the other with the stables and cottages for the equestrian team. The buildings are typical of the regional heritage with stone walls and tiled roofs that look so romantic, but are a labour of love to modernise and maintain. Eideann was concerned that they might think that I was a figment of her imagination after our late arrival and subsequent outings had prevented us meeting, so we joined them for champagne at sunset in the courtyard of the main house one evening to finally get to know each other. They have been in the area for many years, initially with just the main house and travelling back and forth to England with horses in tow as they renovated and set up the business. The arena where they exercise the horses is still here and I woke most mornings to the sound of a horse going through its paces beneath my window. It was a rare treat to lean out and see horses of this quality being ridden by Beccy, their Australian rider. On the day that I left they took one of their younger horses to a qualifying event for a major European championship and he won his class which epitomises the standard being achieved by the small team here. Over the course of my stay we shared a couple of meals with Stephen and Janet and I came to appreciate the genuine care and very hard work that they put in to their horses, their properties and their team.
The gite was lovely to stay in and a change from being in a hotel. We had picnics on the steps overlooking the courtyard, cooked meals together, lay back on the bed and watched chick flicks together (Eideann didn’t seem as enthused as me about the Ironman series) and it was the perfect base from which to go trekking about the area. The stables are 2km away so on my last day, while Eideann worked I went for run over there detouring around a nearby chateau (as you do). I had hoped to see frolicking deer at the chateau or to have the rich, single, Aston Martin driving man of the house come out to see if I needed a glass of water. Alas neither came to fruition although Stephen and I were nearly driven off the road by him the following day, but disappointingly he was driving a porsche.
The restaurants that Eideann took me to were wonderful and it was with a sense of dread that I donned my jeans on my last day with her. Surprisingly they showed no detrimental impact of my recent diet so I have reinforced my belief that I thrive best on loads of butter, potatoes and duck washed down with a glass or two of ...... anything really. Janet had recommended La Promenade (the 1 star) in part due to the very extensive wine list. We were a little intimidated initially, but the sommelier and wait staff were wonderful and not only put us completely at ease, but matched wines by the glass “... grown by Monsieur and Madame .... “ and had quite a lengthy chat about what we were doing and their own children. Here I discovered Comte cheese – how have I not tasted this before??? - which I am now on a mission to find at home.
Eideann’s other great recommendations included her current favourite, Restaurant le 36 in Amboise, where we again sat in the lap of luxury in a garden beneath the wall of a chateau. Our last dinner (supper sounds so inappropriate) was at L’Oceanic in Chinon, a large town overlooked by a magnificent fortress that is lit up at night and the trip to which gave me a last drive with Eideann through the Loire valley. It wasn’t just the wonderful food or the wines that accompanied it of course – listening to Eideann speak fluent French as we navigated the menus, looking at how confident and at ease she is in the surroundings and spending time talking over a range of subjects and possibilities were simply delightful.
On my last morning in Cussay Eideann went off to work while I finished packing then Janet took me across to the stables to say goodbye and to see them getting ready to go the competition. It was good to see her with the horses and to say a quick goodbye amongst all the activity. We were hoping to get another day together in Paris, but not sure that it would come off, so I left with the possibility that it would be more than six months before I saw her again. Now I know how my mother feels. Sorry Mum .
The lovely Stephen drove me to Ligueil where we sat at the bus stop and observed how there is just complete disregard for what we consider basic traffic practices. A side show came into town and just set up on the supermarket carpark for a week. It’s lunch time so a truck just pulls up in the narrow main street to go into the boulangerie to pick up something to eat. Noone hits the horn or complains, life just moves around them.
Perfectly on time the bus arrived to drive me (and one other passenger) the hour to Tours. From there I caught the train to Paris with one very French moment when the train arrived late, so stopping very quickly, and pulled up to the wrong platform. There was mass panic as everyone ran down and up stairs to get to it, with a man in a wheelchair and several of us with luggage queuing up for the lifts. As has become habit, I boarded just in time, but suspect there might have been a few people left on the platform wondering what was going on. Luckily though, I was safely on my way to Paris for my last few days in Paris and the upcoming final of the Top 14s. Bring it on!
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