That August Holiday Vibe


My son seems to use the word “vibe” in a lot of situations. And for once, that word encapsulates exactly how I feel at this very moment. I’m in front of my computer at my desk, typing this article. Why is this an August vibe, though? Because I’m not at work and have the freedom that comes with August to do what I want, within reason, of course. I have my Marshall headphones that have a Princess Leia “vibe”. I’m listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing her beautiful heart out on Amazon Music, and the fan on top of my desk is blowing a fresh breeze through my golden locks. Those of you who know me will understand the ridicule of that last phrase. Locks, golden or otherwise, are something I haven’t had to deal with for many years, but that cool breeze is still very refreshing on my bald scalp.

I have been out, and this will blow your minds as much as the fan is blowing my hair, with my camera taking photographs. I can hardly believe it too. The photographs at the end will not likely seem like holiday photos to you, but to me they are precious! You don’t have to be sitting roasting on a beach to feel on holiday. What I’m getting at is that freedom comes only once a year. Work is important, but rest is important too. Ironically, “Summertime” is playing. The version with Louis Armstrong and Ella together! It really does take you to another place.

And then, there’s my photography escapade. I went old-school with film this time—none of that instant digital gratification. You take the shot, develop the film, scan the negatives, and only then do you wade into the world of editing. Now, you’re probably wondering, “Why the hassle when you’ve got smartphones and digital cameras?” But let me tell you, it’s a deliberate pace that wraps you in its own magic. You deliberate on each shot, finding meaning in every click. Out of the 36 shots I took, I’ve kept 16 for this piece. Fingers crossed, they’re worth the effort.

Film photos emanate a distinct “vibe” compared to their pristine digital counterparts. There’s a soft grain, an endearing imperfection that render them timeless. Some would say they embody an eternal tranquilly, a perpetual “vibe.” In future articles, you will see more of that timeless “vibe,” and pictures from an exhibition at the HAB Gallerie, which I’ve talked about in past articles. There will be shots of various art works all over Nantes that are all part of the annual Voyage à Nantes art season. This year, it’s all about statues taking over the city. But that’s for future articles. I have to keep you coming back for more, don’t I!

The Ship Cemetery


I can’t help but think about the men who sailed on these old ships that have been abandoned. Most likely, fisherman heading out to sea to bring back fish to sell at Ettel, a Breton port. They must be grateful not to be shipwrecks like their former vessels. And yet, when we contemplate them, we are filled with awe, realising that these fishing boats were the only defence these men had against the elements and the mighty waves.

Some of them are so decomposed that we can only just make out their skeletons and speculate about their previous states. Others have been turned into supports for street art. Maybe a more fitting tribute.

This maritime cemetery is just upstream of the Barre d’Etel, a most treacherous stretch of water with currents that will drag you out to sea, and sandbanks that will stop you entering the Ria D’Etel.

Happy Birthday Wife!


Today is the 13th of May 2022 and is my wife’s birthday. It is also Friday the 13th, so I don’t know how I should be feeling, happy for my wife but slightly preoccupied by lady luck deciding to have fun at my expense. Strangely, in France, Friday the 13th is considered lucky. What a peculiar country!

But what a strange coincidence though? But little did I know that 30 years ago, almost to the day that we first met how many coincidences there actually were…

She is born on the 13th, and me on the 26th. 26 being the double of 13. As a Catholic, yes, it happens, I have have always felt close to the Virgin Mary. My mother is Anne, the mother of Mary, and my beloved Grandma was called Mary. My wife is called Virginie… But you could argue that a lot of Catholic women were called Mary or Anne. We also live in the Vendée which has the number 85 – 8+5=13.

Today is also the feast of Our Lady of Fatima who appeared to three children in Fatima in Portugal in 1917.

Can you see a pattern developing here?

Anyway, it doesn’t, in any form, detract from the fact that it is my wife’s birthday today. I used to be great at thinking of presents for everyone, be it Christmas or birthdays. I just knew exactly what to look for and where to find it. Now, as in a lot of things, I now know nothing. What do you get for the person who has everything, including Yours Truly? My dream solution, my daughter seems to have stolen my talent and also seems to be very good at spending my money, but this time it is for a good cause.

Tomorrow, we will celebrate in a dignified manner with friends and have a barbecue, with salads, meats, and sausagy things that have been drawn up on the famous shopping list. It is a long shopping list and in a sudden and surprisingly rare instant of genius, I dared to add, don’t forget the charcoal Darling. The charcoal had been forgotten? I had’t saved the day, but I think I scored at least one brownie point.

So now you know what awaits le this weekend. Last weekend was a little more musical. When I first arrived in Vendée just over 20 years ago I played the horn for the local wind band in Montaigu. It was local and it got me out of the house and introduced me to local people who would eventually become friends. After a certain amount of time I got bored and didn’t feel challenged which is not a good thing to happen. You find that resentment can build and boredom never helps. I eventually stopped playing the horn and felt I had had enough, and then in 2009 a friend from the band said that’s had started playing with the windband in Cholet and I played with them from then on, even getting to the point of trying to get my French teaching diploma, but with burnout, and a change of horn teachers, that idea fell by the wayside. I cut music right back to the basics.

Durning Covid, the old conductor from Montaigu died, and within the year his wife died too. At least they’re together now. The band in MOntaigu had wanted to have a concert to remember them by, and last Satudray, after a lot of work by the band committee, they managed it. As an old player, I was invited to join in, and it was a lovely experience.

During the rehearsals, I received news that my boss in Cholet was resigning at the end of the year. Certainly unexpected, but I think I know some of the reasons why. All of a sudden, choices opened up to me. The band in Montaigu found out, and I was told that if I wanted, they would be happy to have an extra horn player. Not an easy decision to make, and I will certainly think about it. It would certainly mean less driving, and with the price of petrol, that is one huge argument. I feel a certain loylaty for the boss at Cholet even more so than for the band itself. not only is he my musical director but has over the years, become a friend. I’ll keep you posted.

Sunday was going to be about rest and relaxation. I felt I couldn’t face Nantes, and would be going to mass there anyway later on. So I went to Clisson instead. We all have those pretty towns just near us. In Hull, it was Beverley, in Noisy le Sec, it was Paris, and in Saint Hilaire it’s Clisson. I’m not denigrating the places that I have lived, but they were also slightly cheaper places to live, but that’s by the by…

I seem to be getting back into using my Canon DSLR and loving it too. It’s the 16-35mm lens that does it. And as you can see in the photographs from that day, Clisson is very photogenic, almost more than Nantes, but let’s not tell everyone, or they’ll all want to go there…