Vitre, France

Back to setting our alarm, we woke up a bit earlier than usual and enjoyed our rice pudding, fresh raspberries and banana, and Nespresso breakfast before walking a brisk 20 minutes to the new suburb of St. Servan which is the opposite way from old town. The train was not cheap, at €78 return but it was nearly 2 hr trip each way.

The French rail is very nice – SNCF, with clean trains, padded roomy blue seats, and air-conditioning. Our journey required a 1 hr high speed trip to Rennes which is the biggest city in Brittany and a major transit stop. From there it was a further 45 minutes to Vitre.

When we arrived at Rennes I was feeling a little off for some reason – a bit weak and low blood pressure with a seedy type stomach. Not sure what it was or where it came from, so we just took it easy and went for a short walk and found a creperie to have a cup of tea and some lunch. This time we just ordered one gallette (savoury) and one crepe (sweet) and swapped half way. For our savoury we chose a ratatouille, cheese, jambon, and egg and an apple, cream, ice-cream and caramel for the sweet. Both were very nice and satisfying and did the trick in setting to feeling normal.

Rennes has an old town centre which is worth seeing, but it is a 20 minute walk from the station so we didn’t want to rush that. Our transiting with trains is going well, clicking back into our last holidays experience. It takes a wee bit of concentration and working out, but its not so difficult to be stressful, more an adventure. A good practice to do is give yourself 15 minutes at least before departure so you can be on top of things or find help. Also if it is a beginning journey the train is usually docked so you can get a good seat and hop on early.

Vitre has historic status and is one of the best preserved examples of how life looked in a 500 year old village with its timbered and porch houses. It also has a nicely restored Castle which has the typical Normandy and Brittany style pointy witches hat turrets. It was a toss up whether to visit Vitre or Fougeres for viewing this style of architecture and I had hoped to visit both but the train connections were too tricky even though they are not far apart in distance. We chose Vitre as it reportedly had the better town, whereas Fougeres had the better fortress.

We arrived in Vitre at 13:40 and had till 18:30 before a return trip was available. We certainly had no trouble spending 3 hours weaving our way in and out of all the little streets in old town. And then walked a further 3km on a wild goose chase to find a supermarket in the new town courtesy of google map – it was not there, not even a building, just a vacant parking lot. Many of the houses date to the 15th and 16th century and we find it intriguing to see them being used as fully functioning business’ and homes. I don’t know what it is about visiting these historic towns that attracts people, including ourselves. Its just such a wonderful feeling to walk on old uneven roads and streets, view the different buildings with their precarious leans like a happy home that has had too many ciders, their colourful and clever flower boxes and hanging baskets, the large old cracked timbers from ancient trees, tiny and sometimes decorative windows, and weathered roof tiles or thatches. Their is a sense of history that mankind loves to connect to, and perhaps therein likes the magnetic magic?

The Notre Dam church (14th century gothic) we went into had a lovely atmosphere with happy tubby old lady humming away, cleaning, tidying candles and sorting brochures. They often have music playing quietly in the background too which adds to the admosphere. Outside was some interesting albeit worn stone work including dogs and pigs of which I am lost to the religious significance.

Sundays in France are usually a lot quieter with supermarkets closing early or even totally unless it is a big one. You do not see the Indian or Chinese owned superettes or 4711 as we called them. Life seems more traditional and it works for them. With a bit of adjustment back in expectations/and time for us 24×7 shoppers its not such a bad thing – you plan for it. Given we could not find a supermarket for a picnic tea, we rested the final hour before our train at a little bakery near the station which also sold tea and coffee. We just got a mini 5-6″ pizza round, a chicken baguette and an almond croissant with our cuppas and enjoyed it on the outside tables in the square. We engaged in the totally acceptable people watching at that hour as people came and went collecting their freshly baked baguette for the evening meal. It must have been one of the few bakeries open in town as there was a constant, and I mean constant stream of customers – all for one baguette – for the hour we sat there. It was not uncommon for the baguette to be nibbled on before it reached the car, or round the corner whether it was dads with littlies, couples, or just mums or singles. Ghuiam from L’epicerie in town said French are born with a baguette in their hand and I can see that more than ever now.

When we were waiting at the station in the last 15 minutes there was a mature mum with a 5-7 year old horror. I would say she was Damion’s sister (possessed devil child) – totally defying her mothers requests to behave, yelling at her, kicking and slapping her. OMG it takes all restraint not to do everyone a favour and whallop it on the bum to set it right. She was annoying, running here and there, touching, climbing, babbling and general nuisance making. When we got on the train Vern said, ” well at least we are not on the same carriage” and then low and behold skippy do-dah in they came. Darn it. The terror spent the entire journey swinging up and down the isles on every arm rest, tinkering her fingers on our tables (I told her not to on ours) and climbing the baggage racks at the end. Her mum yelled at her once, and tried to get her off the racks, and got a torrent of French back at her – which clearly put the Mum back in her place. I just find that sort of parent tragic and strongly believe they should not be entrusted to rear and set loose these young humans into society.

We got back into St Servan station at around 8:30pm and had a relaxed walk home where we actually found a very small superette open on a Sunday night. I found near the cider section some up market crisps ‘goat cheese and pimento’ which was actually chilli-pimento with a nice bite. They were totally more-ish. It is going to be a real effort to return to a disciplined eating regime when we get home.