L' Éléphant

We had a busy old day, today, curated by the expert hands of the Minx. 

We set off promptly at nine to drive up to a vineyard called Domaine Brégeon for a little tour. It was indeed a small concern, run by a chap called Fred, who seemed a little low when he came to great us. "So, do you want to see the vines?" he said with perhaps less enthusiasm that we'd anticipated. 

The reason he was glum became apparent when he showed us his vines, which varied in age between five and ninety-five. Whatever the age, they all looked very poorly. "Too much rain" Fred explained. The harvest, which usually takes two weeks, will last just a couple of days this year. 

He gradually perked up, though, as he showed us around the building where the grapes are pressed and the wine is made. He's proudly organic in all his processes, and also with the wines he produces, which we were able to taste after the tour. 

And they were very good, too, so we bought a few bottles (after checking the post-Brexit restrictions), which further cheered Fred up.

To be honest, I was feeling a bit glum on Fred's behalf as he talked about climate change and the prospects for the weather in the future. Happily, though, he has a plan: to use different vines, ones which are happier with the wet weather!

We left on a good note: we'd enjoyed the personalised tour - it was just the three of us plus Fred - and were happy that the future wasn't all doom and gloom for him, whilst he had done a nice morning's trade.

From there, we headed up to Nantes for lunch at a café the Minx had found called Le Louis Blanc. We sat on a table outside, enjoyed some friendly service, good food and wine, and watched the world go by, until the Minx announced that we were off to see 'the elephant'.

In situations such as this, I find myself in a moment of mild foreboding as I realise that I have been told about something and failed to pay the appropriate amount of attention, but fortunately Hannah was there to ask what that was all about.

On its website, the exhibition states "The Machines de l’Ile is an artistic and a tourist project. It is a blend of the invented worlds of Jules Verne, the mechanical universe of Leonardo da Vinci, and the industrial history of Nantes, on an exceptional site in the former shipyards."

It sounds great and, indeed, lives up to its promise, firstly in the actual exhibition centre where we saw all manner of mechanical creations, and then out in the shipyards where we saw the magnificent elephant that you can see in my Extra. We didn't ride on it, but, like a good bridge, it was actually more interesting looking at it than being on it. 

And after that, there was just time for a quick refreshment in a nearby bar before we went to drop Hannah off at the airport.

That regrettable job done, we headed further north, driving up to Carnac for the night. Much like La Tranche-sur-Mer, the town had the feel of a very busy tourist town, suddenly emptied, that was coasting on the summer's momentum, easing itself into a winter slumber. 

That said, the Minx spotted a great little restaurant with an inner courtyard where we drank some wine, enjoyed good Italian food, and read our books. We had a busy old day, today, curated by the expert hands of the Minx. 

We set off promptly at nine to drive up to a vineyard called Domaine Brégeon for a little tour. It was indeed a small concern, run by a chap called Fred, who seemed a little low when he came to great us. "So, do you want to see the vines?" he said with perhaps less enthusiasm that we'd anticipated. 

The reason he was glum became apparent when he showed us his vines, which varied in age between five and ninety-five. Whatever the age, they all looked very poorly. "Too much rain" Fred explained. The harvest, which usually takes two weeks, will last just a couple of days this year. 

He gradually perked up, though, as he showed us around the building where the grapes are pressed and the wine is made. He's proudly organic in all his processes, and also with the wines he produces, which we were able to taste after the tour. 

And they were very good, too, so we bought a few bottles (after checking the post-Brexit restrictions), which further cheered Fred up.

To be honest, I was feeling a bit glum on Fred's behalf as he talked about climate change and the prospects for the weather in the future. Happily, though, he has a plan: to use different vines, ones which are happier with the wet weather!

We left on a good note: we'd enjoyed the personalised tour - it was just the three of us plus Fred - and were happy that the future wasn't all doom and gloom for him, whilst he had done a nice morning's trade.

From there, we headed up to Nantes for lunch at a café the Minx had found called Le Louis Blanc. We sat on a table outside, enjoyed some friendly service, good food and wine, and watched the world go by, until the Minx announced that we were off to see 'the elephant'.

In situations such as this, I find myself in a moment of mild foreboding as I realise that I have been told about something and failed to pay the appropriate amount of attention, but fortunately Hannah was there to ask what that was all about.

On its website, the exhibition states "The Machines de l’Ile is an artistic and a tourist project. It is a blend of the invented worlds of Jules Verne, the mechanical universe of Leonardo da Vinci, and the industrial history of Nantes, on an exceptional site in the former shipyards."

It sounds great and, indeed, lives up to its promise, firstly in the actual exhibition centre where we saw all manner of mechanical creations, and then out in the shipyards where we saw the magnificent elephant that you can see in my Blip. We didn't ride on it, but, like a good bridge, it was actually more interesting looking at it than being on it. 

And after that, there was just time for a quick refreshment in a nearby bar before we went to drop Hannah off at the airport.

That regrettable job done, we headed further north, driving up to Carnac for the night. Much like La Tranche-sur-Mer, the town had the feel of a very busy tourist town, suddenly emptied, that was coasting on the summer's momentum, easing itself into a winter slumber. 

That said, the Minx spotted a great little restaurant with an inner courtyard where we drank some wine, enjoyed good Italian food, and read our books.