A Day at Château de la Preuille: A Tale of Heritage, Friendship, and Unexpected Adventures


Hello Dear Reader! Today, I want to share a story with you, a story that unfolded under the skies of Saint Hilaire de Loulay. It’s a tale of heritage, friendship, and a day filled with unexpected adventures at Château de la Preuille. This picturesque château, which I’ve been photographing since my arrival in Saint Hilaire in 2001, holds a special place in my heart. This year, it unveiled a new chapter in its history, one that I had the privilege to document.

The Château and Its New Custodians

As the warm September sun bathed the château’s iconic towers, I couldn’t help but wonder at how time had woven our lives together. What began as a photographer’s fascination with this beautiful place morphosed into something deeper when I had the chance to meet Sandra and Paul, the château’s new owners from the Netherlands. Our paths crossed through my frequent visits to the castle with my camera, our mutual following on Instagram. Little did I know that this connection would lead to an extraordinary invitation — to document the Journées de Patrimoine 2023.

Journées de Patrimoine: A Glimpse Behind Closed Doors

The Journées de Patrimoine, or Heritage Days, are an important tradition in France, and a tradition that I embrace wholeheartedly. It’s the time when historic sites and monuments, normally closed to the public, throw open their doors and reveal their secrets to curious visitors. And Château de la Preuille was no exception. On Sunday, the 17th of September, 2023, the château took part in this tradition offering a rare glimpse into its storied past.

The Old Kitchens and a Giant Rubber Duckie

Inside the château, the only area accessible to the public was the old kitchens, overlooking the moat. It is someones home after all. From here, you have a captivating view of the moat itself, one of the majestic towers, and a rather amusing resident – a giant yellow rubber duckie! The water level in the moat was a lot lower than it should be. It is leaking water and needs repairing, but it still allows those lovely reflection photographs that everybdy seems to like.

Inside the kitchens, I discovered Louis Georges my old neighbour, who was exhibiting his wooden models of monuments and buildings, including meticulous replicas of the château itself. The intricacy and attention to detail were nothing short of remarkable, making it easy to recognize these iconic structures. He used to make them out of matches, and still referred to himself the whole day as Monsieur Alumette!

An Array of Delights in the Grounds

The rest of the day’s festivities took place in the château’s picturesque grounds, where an eclectic array of stalls and activities awaited. From jewelry crafted from delicate petals and leaves in resin to a herbologist sharing the secrets of plants, there was something to grab everyone’s interests.

As I wandered through this tapestry, I encountered a sophrologist promoting relaxation techniques, a candlemaker, an artist who used vegetables and fruits in her art workshops, a plant vendor, Vinnochio, a local wine merchant, a model boat club “navigat”sailing” their vessels in the swimming pool, fire eaters, magicians, two mad scientists in trees (or as my wife called them, les deux zozos en blouse blanche) telling us how trees breathe, eat and drink, and so much more.

Reunions and Rediscoveries:

During the day, I was pleasantly surprised to see a large number of familiar faces and old friends whom I hadn’t seen for such a long time. The château, with its rich history and vibrant present, became a meeting point for cherished reunions and heartwarming rediscoveries.

These encounters were like snapshots of the past (which is very useful because my memory seems to be slowly going on strike, and I can hear the comedy duo Al and Heimer at the door, rekindling old connections and fostering a sense of community. The smiles and embraces were a testament to the power of such events in bringing people together. It was a reminder that in this world, where the pace of life often feels relentless, its good to be good to people and maintaining meaningful connections truly matters.

The simple act of reaching out, whether through shared interests, mutual acquaintances, or the universal language of photography, allowed for these meaningful reunions. It underscored the importance of nurturing friendships and how small seemingly ordinary gestures can lead to extraordinary moments.

As the day unfolded, and amidst the laughter, music, it became clear that the Journées de Patrimoine at Château de la Preuille extended beyond heritage and history; it was about celebrating the warmth of personal connections. In a world that sometimes feels divided, this day served as a poignant reminder that kindness, friendship, and the willingness to engage in the beauty of heritage and community are treasures that bring out the best in us all.

A Day of Discovery

Food trucks catered to the gastronomic cravings of the large crowd. The French may be the French, but their food is excellent! And a bar run by the Comité de fêtes (yes, we have a party committee!) kept spirits high as well as raising money for repairing the moat. A DJ from “Angleterre” provided the soundtrack, vintage car enthusiasts proudly displayed their cars, and a specialist showcased games crafted from wood.

As the day unfolded, live music filled the air, and I, yours truly, had the incredible privilege of documenting every moment. But it didn’t end there. The château played host to a cycling outing, with participants in cycling helmets and lycra looking sportier than ever. The château, now in Dutch hands, even offered a dedicated parking area for bikes. How very Dutch!

Conclusion: A Day of Heritage, Friendship, and New Beginnings

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over Château de la Preuille, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. This day was not just about documenting history; it was about forging new connections, celebrating friendship, and cherishing the adventure that life brings.

So, Dear Reader, remember that life has a way of intertwining our passions and paths, leading us to places and people we never could have imagined. Château de la Preuille, with its rich history, artistic wonders, warm-hearted owners, and the embrace of old friends, showed me that heritage is not just about the past but also the vibrant present and the promising future.

Now, if you like the photographs in this article, I would suggest that you book a stay in the Castle. You can contact Sandra and Paul through their website, and Instagram. They can cater for range of events and the venue is popular for weddings. Can you imagine getting married and then staying in the very Castle where you had the reception. Yes you, you romantic little Reader, treat your spouse like the King or Queen that they are, and appreciate the magic. There may be a supplement for the massive rubber duckie. I’ll let you check with them….

A Pilgrimage to Mont Saint Michel: A Journey of Faith and Endurance


The hot summer sun beat down as I embarked on a journey that had been brewing in my mind. Mont St. Michel was not only a quest to escape the sweltering Vendée heat but also a spiritual endeavour to connect with the divine in a magnificent setting.

A Return to Childhood Memories

The journey began at my home in the picturesque Vendée region, where I set out on a 220-kilometer trip to Mont Saint Michel. It was a return to a place I had visited as a wide-eyed boy, eager to explore its mysteries. However, this time, my mission was twofold: to capture the awe-inspiring beauty of this monument through my camera lens and, most importantly, to offer my prayers to the Almighty.

The Road Less Travelled

The road to Mont St. Michel took me through Nantes and Rennes, where I made stops at local bakeries to purchase food for the journey. As I stocked up on provisions, I couldn’t help but reminisce about my first visit to this iconic place some forty years ago. Speaking with my parents, who recalled our family visit, added a nostalgic layer to this pilgrimage.

Physical Challenges and the Power of Will

One of the significant challenges I faced during this pilgrimage was my battle with arthritis, a persistent companion that had become an unwelcome part of my life. Walking with the aid of a cane, I knew that this journey would not be without its pains. However, I had learned a valuable lesson during my time in the Army: the mind can command the body to persevere beyond its perceived limits. Armed with this knowledge, I pressed on, determined to conquer the physical difficulties that lay ahead.

Prayers in Motion

My journey was more than a physical voyage; it was a spiritual quest. Along the way, I offered up my sufferings to God, a testament to my unwavering faith. The act of praying while traversing the miles was a reminder of the power of faith, even in the face of adversity.

A Divine Encounter at Mont St. Michel

Finally, I reached the awe-inspiring Mont St. Michel. Its grandeur and the spiritual aura surrounding it took my breath away. I knew I was in the presence of something sacred. It was here that my pilgrimage took on its most profound meaning.

A Moment of Grace

Before the Blessed Sacrament, I knelt in prayer. As I poured out my heart to the Lord, I couldn’t help but notice the passers-by who seemed oblivious to the divine presence. In that moment, I offered a prayer that God might reveal Himself to them in some way. And then, as if in answer to my prayer, two individuals genuflected before the Blessed Sacrament. It was a poignant reminder that God’s presence is not always apparent, but it is real and powerful. The simple act of acknowledgment by those two individuals filled me with hope and gratitude.

A Pilgrimage Worth Every Step

As the day wore on and I made my way back home, I couldn’t help but feel tired. The physical exertions of navigating the ups and downs of Mont Saint Michel had taken their toll. However, it was a good tired, a sense of accomplishment and fulfilment that can only be gained through a meaningful journey.

Looking Ahead

Reflecting on my pilgrimage, I realize that while the physical challenges were significant, they were far outweighed by the spiritual rewards. My journey was a testament to the power of faith and the determination of the human spirit. If I were to undertake this pilgrimage again, I would not go alone. Having someone to share the driving and the walks would undoubtedly make the journey more manageable. In the end, my pilgrimage to Mont Saint Michel left a lasting mark on me. It was a journey of faith, endurance, and prayer, a testament to the power of the human spirit and the divine presence that guides our paths.

Bretagne – a story of sea and stones


It has been a quiet week in Saint Hilaire… But it was a pleasant weekend in Brittany.  Some may accuse the Bretons of being way too preoccupied with being Bretons, similar to the Cornish in Cornwall, or the Welsh in Wales, when they can manage to forget about getting cuddly with sheep.  In that previous paragraph, I just irritated 6.9 million people.  That’s not bad for a single paragraph.

Say what you will about the Breton people, they do do a great line in standing stones, or standing lines of standing stones, especially near Carnac.  This gets me topq where my in-laws live, which is not far from Carnac.  It was the first afternoon of our stay, and I didn’t want to irritate my mother-in-law by just existing, breathing, and so on.  I seized the chance to go out with my camera and shoot some photos.  It’s one of the reasons I look forward to these visits.  It’s truly about getting away from everything and simply soaking in the scenery.

These stones have been standing for around 7000 years, so they must be getting exhausted.  Some have just given up on life and collapsed, or have they had too many parties and consumed too much alcohol?  Anyway, when I was travelling around the grounds of these lines of standing stones, or stones standing in lines, I observed a lady with dowsing rods sitting on one of the stones.  There’s nowt as funny as folk, as my father once stated…  Then the first lady’s companion came up and tried to hug the rocks.  Now, I’ve seen some unusual things in my life, as has the majority of Hull’s population, since it’s never dull in ‘Ull.

But this not only took the biscuit, but it almost took the tea as well!  They said that the Druids had placed the stones there to make the soil more fertile, and that each stone had its unique set of qualities.  I tried not to laugh as I thought about how fertile their imagination was.  After all, they were completely serious.  I know nothing about old stones, whether standing or not, but I patiently listened to them.

I explained how we had once been to Stonehenge and how there was something about the place that was less than ordinary, and how we had seen people kissing the ground and having moments.  They told me that of course this was because of the energy.  You must ask the stone for permission to use its qualities first then sit on it.  And were I to do this I would feel something.  The only thing I felt was a sore bottom!

Wait a minute! He mentioned the Sea, not simply stones. We want to see the marine pics!!! If you’re good and well behaved I might include them in an upcoming post. I can assure you that they are ready. I’ll be highlighting Ettel’s Boat Cemetery. Be patient already!

Clisson


Have you ever come across the articles named “The 10 Prettiest Villages in France,” “The 10 Prettiest Villages in Yorkshire,” “The 10 Prettiest Villages in Northumberland,” or “Some Other Dream Spot in This Beautiful World?”  No? The one closest to us, is about 15 kilometres away and not in the south of France, which I believe to be completely overrated. Like most contenders for this type of little town, there is a bustling market every Friday morning (which is actually pretty wonderful, if not a touch on the pricier side), a park that hugs the river and lets you unwind while taking in the gentle sound of the water.  A castle stands watch over the entire town.  Meandering streets wonder up and down hills as do the locals.  It is in wine producing country surrounded by vineyards who would be more than happy to flog you some wine…

Yes, it is one of “those” places, Dear Reader, but it is still beautiful. Clisson is also aware of this. Of course, I’m simply jealous because I don’t live there but wish I did.

In this series of photographs, I also chose to maintain the film-like appearance of my digital photography. It appears that summer is rapidly approaching. The days are already warmer and sunnier, but are not yet unbearably hot. And such weather is simply God’s way of encouraging you to go have a refreshing pint!

Bourrée ou Macé?


To start with, I’d planned on going to one of the Loire Valley castles yesterday, but due to brain fog I thought it better to just go to bed. So I did. This morning there was no sign of fog, outside or in my brain.

I thought I would go to the Chateau de Plessis Bourée as I do like a drink, and bourée means drunk in French. I do have a family reputation as a drinker to keep up. So off I went. It’s a beautiful place and that day it was a very beautiful place, but also a very shut beautiful place. It seems the Plan B will have to do, which is the Chateau de Plessis Macé, which is slightly more sober. Boring…

I’m actually writing this in the car as I wanted to get that drinking joke out of my mind and onto paper, or screen…

All I have to do now is to drive 19km and I’ll be at party pooper castle! It had bloody well be open or I’ll be very upset and have to go straight to the pub. And with all these new restrictions means I have to get a couple in before chucking out time at 10pm. It sounds like English pubs on a Sunday when I was growing up.

Right off I go. Talk to you later Dear Reader.

I have arrived in one piece and I assume that the Plessis Bourée was nursing a hangover after a particularly good night earning its name once again. Macé looks slightly more open, or at worse, less shut. We shall see! The excitement is killing you isn’t it. Seated there on the edge of your seat wondering if I’ll be successful on this trip. It is with trepidation that I shall open the car door. Maybe more with the handle…. poor trepidation.

I decided against taking the guided tour. I did the “visite libre” and handed over my name, phone number etc. in case of Covid contact. Therefore, as the cheap skate that I am, I only visited the outsides. I still managed to get a couple of nice photos and was able to visit the Chapel.

I’ll put up the boring stuff like links etc., addresses, prices when I finish the article later on. For the moment, you’ll have to do with this!

Now for the boring stuff, or maybe even interesting stuff, depending on whether or not you enjoy history.  A Plessis is a fort built on a hill surrounded by bushes as a defence, and the word Macé comes the Latin word for Mathew, Mattheus. The original fort was built in the 11th century buy Raynaud the first and was a wooden tower, in the 12th century the wood was replaced by stone.  It always pays to invest in construction.  It defended Angers from the Dukes of Brittany.  We nicked it during the Hundred Year’s War, as it was pretty much abandoned.  It also allowed us a little pied-à-terre from which to nick local natural resources.  This is wine country and who doesn’t like a drink eh?  We were mercilessly pushed out of France, and the Plessis was taken over by Louis de Beaumont who built the castle that we see today.  1678, the Castle is bought by the Bautrau de Serrant family, and in 1749 by the Walsh family (which doesn’t sound very French to me, just saying).  In 1868 the Countess Sophie Walsh de Serrant (OK so maybe they were French after all), took up residence in the Castle and launched a huge construction project in the actual Logis.  1907, the Archives de France director, Charles Victor Langlois (Charles Victor the Englishman, Langlois is the medieval French for Englishman, oh the irony) acquired the Castle.  As in most of France during the Second World War, the Germans occupied the Castle, as they did the rest of France.  Yes, there’s something Vichy about the French, as Noel Coward once said.  1967 Philippe Langlois-Berthelot gifted the Castle to the Maine et Loire Department, possibly to avoid paying taxes (again, nothing sure, but follow the money…). 1980 the “Commons” builing was renovated as function rooms.  You have to make money somehow, and who wouldn’t to have a reception in a beautiful castle?  1987, the artistic director of the Anjou Festival, Jean-Claude Brialy, a French and very butch luvvie, presented the infamous Barber of Seville by Beaumarchais.  Skip forward to 2020, the photographer Ian J Myers visited the Castle because the other one he wanted to visit was shut, and he was buggered if he was going to leave the area without taking a couple of photos for posterity and his blog!

You, Dear Reader are now up to date.  All that is left for me to do is to edit the photos and present them to you. I had originally planned to visit a few of the Loire Castles but then Lockdown happened, again! I’ll change plans and see what I come up with for future articles!

Off to see the King


At work lately we’ve been having four day weeks and it’s wonderful! There are slightly fewer orders coming in but that’s OK. There’s enough to keep everything rolling by. And who doesn’t love having a day off? Those who said not me, are either liars or simply mistaken.

So that Friday I decided that I wanted to stay away from the house and get my booty off somewhere to take photos. But where? While I was edging closer to be a full time professional musician I did a spot of teaching in a place called Vihiers. It’s miles away, but still a nice drive out. I stopped edging towards music, and photography has taken over. One of my pupils talked about the Abbaye de Fontevraud. I looked it up on the Internet and started learning about it.

I’m half English and part of that is being real with the French. They need this. During and before the Hundred Years War, this area of France was English, and our King was their King. Those of you who aren’t English might have heard of Robin Hood, who looked just like Kevin Kostner and had a mate who looked strangely like Morgan Freeman. There was the Evil Prince John who became King when Richard the Lionheart (who looked really badass and you could mistake him for Sean Connery) went off on a Crusade to show just how badass he really was. Their mother was Eleanor of Aquitaine. Eleanor, her Husband Henry Plantagenet, their son Richard (the famous badass), and Isabelle d’Angouleme who was married to John. Her bad… We all make mistakes.

So this is kind of crazy for me who enjoys history and discovers more of the Anjou region which is just down the road from the Vendée. On the way I recognised a place where I used to buy foie gras when we first moved here. I called in on the off chance of being able to make a purchase and take something good home for my family. It’s changed a bit since 15 years ago, and offers different products. I left some money there and felt happy about buying something directly from the producer that was made on site etc. And it tasted really good too.

Sooooo… I turn up in the Village of Fontevraud l’Abbaye and I even managed to find the said Abbaye. 11€ for the entrance ticket, which seemed reasonable.

A bit of history here for those who can’t be bothered to click and have a read. Basically, the abbey was founded 1101 by the itinerant preacher Robert of Arbrissel. It developed and flourished during the Plantagenet era, went downhill after the Plantagenets were no more, however by the Hundred Years War things were going downhill, and during an inspection in 1460, the abbey was found to be barely inhabited. Fast forward to 1457 reforms were introduced by the then abbesse Marie of Bretagne. Louis the XI gave the place his blessing and the place started to really try to get back on its feet again, but without a huge amount of success. In 1491 there came Renée who was from the French Royal family (the Bourbons, french royals and not the rather tasty biscuits or whiskey). I’m not going to translate the whole of the French wikipedia article but you get the gist right? Things got better, and by the time the French decided that Royalty wasn’t for them during the French Revolution, things were OK!

However as the revolutionaries weren’t into Royalty and because of the so called “Enlightenment” philosophies, they weren’t into religion in a big way either. That continues to this very day. I promise not to get political! They basically get rid of the nuns, and by 1804, Napolean, yes him again, decided to make the place a prison, and it remained so until 1963.

When I went there I wanted to feel the Royal side with Richard the Lionheart and feel the medieval legends in the walls. But I’ll risk being contraversial, and say that I felt more the “prison vibe” and it might be because of the less than sunny autumnal weather, but I could feel the buildings being a place of great suffering. Quite ominous in fact.

Since 1975 it was converted from a prison into a Cultural Centre for the Region. You can see a few “colour” photos of the latest art installation which was very impressive.

Would I go back? Possibly, but not in Autumn.