Vendée photography Archives

Good morning Dear Reader, I have been out with my camera. What a surprise I hear you say. I have been missing my Canon 6D Mark II but wanted to keep using my lovely lenses. Sometimes the 50 is great, but it’s nice to break out the zoom! I have the 24-70mm EF F4 because I’m not forking out the money for the F2.8 version. But I wanted to go with film. So I did! With the Canon EOS 500 and a roll of Agfaphoto APX 400.

I parked next to the river and ended up looking up at the Castle on the hill and thinking, strangely, of a certain Mr Sheeran, but without the teen angst and drinking. I think it looks lovely. To my right was the river and the old bridge and a vantage point to look at the Sèvre Nantaise coming over the weir. I thought about the photos I’d taken in February, as well as all the others taken over the years.

I took a right at the Café des Cordeliers but instead of going along to the Garenne Lemot park, I took a left down a passage to a place I had only looked at but never visited. Today my panama hat would become my explorer’s hat and I would take a closer look. Well what a surprise it was and definitely a butcher’s.

I remember some advice given to me which is the need to turn around and look behind you and see if you’ve missed anything, and have a real look and you might even see something completely different… This time I took that advice and it was more than worth it.

I would have missed the viaduct I’d driven over before, the one that runs from Clisson towards Gétigné, which I might have to look at sometime soon. The river was reflecting light on the arches and I could have finished the roll there and I would have been happy, but I kept a couple of frames “just in case” for the walk back to the car. You never know…

I walked back to the car just looking up and seeing the laundry hanging out. It looked like canoeing gear that was drying. Then back across the bridge, and I was happy with the variety the 24-70mm lens gave me. Less distortion than my 16-35mm but still enough for some variety, especially the Macro feature for the fern spores. We can have distortion another time.

All in all a very satisfying trip out and not far away, have you seen the price of diesel lately? Thank you Orange man!

P.S. If you want to wean yourself off digital and get back to the street cred that comes with film the Canon EOS 500 might just be your gateway drug. Modern enough for the new EF lenses, but still having the necessary autofocus. You can go full manual SLR later. Break yourself in gently…

Black and white street scene in Clisson showing stone buildings, an estate agency, and the ornate Romanesque bell tower of Notre-Dame de Clisson rising behin

Black and white photograph of a stone arch bridge over the Sèvre Nantaise in Clisson, with multi-storey townhouses and the Restaurant de la Vallée visible behind.

Wide black and white view of the stone arch bridge over the Sèvre Nantaise in Clisson, with the town's riverfront buildings stretching across the frame.

Dramatic low-angle black and white photograph looking up at the ruined interior tower of Château de Clisson, stone walls rising steeply against a pale sky.

Black and white photograph of a weathered stone cross on the parapet of a bridge over the Sèvre Nantaise in Clisson, with a mill building and weir visible behind.

Black and white landscape view of the Sèvre Nantaise weir in Clisson, with the converted mill hotel on the left and a chapel visible to the right through bare trees.

Black and white photograph of stone buildings along the Sèvre Nantaise in Clisson, featuring tall arched windows, a spiral metal staircase, and a terrace above the water.

Black and white photograph of the Café des Cordeliers on a street corner in Clisson, a traditional French café with a painted sign and potted plants outside.

Black and white photograph of a building corner in Clisson with a large painted mural depicting a tropical jungle scene, a figure walking away in the background.

Black and white photograph of tattered fabric bunting or prayer flags strung between posts above garden hedging, with trees silhouetted behind against a bright sky.

Black and white photograph of a narrow dirt path flanked by ivy-covered stone walls, leading toward parked cars and houses in the distance, Clisson.

Close-up black and white macro photograph of fern fronds showing clusters of spore cases on the undersides of the leaves, shot with shallow depth of field.

Black and white photograph of white calla lily flowers growing at the edge of the Sèvre Nantaise in Clisson, dark water and tree reflections filling the upper frame.

Black and white photograph of the medieval bridge over the Sèvre Nantaise reflected in still water, calla lilies in the foreground, an ivy-covered wall framing the right edge.

Black and white photograph of the stone viaduct near Clisson reflected in the Sèvre Nantaise below, four tall arches rising symmetrically above the still water.

Black and white photograph of a white canoe moored on the Sèvre Nantaise in front of the stone viaduct near Clisson, bare trees framing the upper right.

Abstract black and white photograph looking up through the nested Gothic arches of the Clisson viaduct from directly below, stone masonry receding into darkness.

Low-angle black and white photograph of a single stone pier of the Clisson viaduct rising from the river, one arch visible above, taken from close to the water's edge.

Black and white photograph looking up at the Clisson viaduct from below, bare winter tree branches reaching into the upper left of the frame against a pale sky.

Black and white photograph of cascading white wisteria flowers against a sunlit wall, deep shadows behind, shot on 35mm film in Clisson.

Black and white photograph of ornate wrought iron gates set in weathered stone pillars, a cypress tree and period house visible beyond, Clisson.

Black and white photograph of laundry — possibly canoeing gear — drying on a rack in a stone-framed window recess, dramatic shadow arcs sweeping across the wall on either side.

Good evening Dear Reader. Some of you may know that I live in France, despite being originally from the UK, and despite probably having gone native after living here for 30 years. I have even been accused of being a little “Continental” whatever that may mean.. I live in the west of France. You could think that I live in Nantes just judging by the quantity of photos taken in that city.

I actually live in a smallish village at the very northern edge of the Vendée and my village borders the “la Loire Inférieure” or to use the more modern term “la Loire Atlantique.” Our department number is 85 and theirs is 44. I’m not saying there is any animosity between the two, in the same way that there isn’t any animosity between the inhabitant of Lancashire, and God’s own county of Yorkshire. Absolutely none at all.

You now know where I am. Let’s have a closer look at that area through the lens of my Canon AE1. This series of photos was taken along my route to work. You can see the milestone on the road where the border between the two departments finds itself.

The trees along this stretch form a natural tunnel, creating an otherworldly atmosphere as sunlight filters through the canopy. Capturing that interplay of light and shadow was my goal with the Canon AE1. Despite some doubts about its metering capabilities, the camera performed admirably, and I’m thrilled with the results.

Since I took these photos, some of the trees have been cut back, making these images even more precious. They preserve a fleeting beauty—a reminder of how photography can immortalise moments before they change forever.

At the base of the hill runs a quiet stream, tame in spring but often overflowing in winter. Its stillness offers another perspective, reflecting the surrounding trees and clusters of mistletoe hanging high in their branches. These reflections, captured on film, reveal a different kind of magic—a mirror-like calm that contrasts with the lively interplay of light above.

This installment of the Film Archives is a tribute to the quiet beauty of my daily commute. Through these photographs, I hope to share not just a sense of place but a moment in time that speaks to the power of film photography to hold onto the ephemeral.