Days on the Claise

Getting That Cherry Ripe Vibe in France

2026-05-18T09:00:00.001+02:00

Cherry season means cherry desserts. I had some blush yellow cherries from our local organic orchard Fruits Ô Kalm and the fruit flies in the kitchen were in plague proportions. So I stewed the cherries. Then I had the idea of serving them with whipped coconut cream. And just before serving I had the brainwave of grating a little dark chocolate on the combo. A total winner. Super easy, super delicious.

Ingredients

400 g sweet cherries

6 tbsp sugar

300 g coconut cream

1 tsp vanilla essence

2 squares of dark chocolate

Method

Break out your cherry stoning tool from the back of whichever inconvenient cupboard you've shoved it in. Set it up, then rinse your cherries and pluck their stalks off.
Run the cherries through the stoning tool, then put them in a saucepan with a dash of water and 4 tablespoons of sugar.
Gently simmer the cherries for 5 minutes, keeping an eye on them because they'll have a tendency to boil over.
Put the cherries aside to cool.
Put the coconut cream, vanilla and remaining 2 tablespoons of sugar in a high sided bowl.
Rummage out your electric hand beater and whip the coconut cream. This will take a while, longer than dairy cream.
Serve the cherries in bowls, topped with a dollop of coconut cream. Shave some chocolate onto the coconut cream using a fine grater.

Australians will understand the reference to Cherry Ripe. Everyone else is probably mystified.

First World War Memorial at Saint Flovier

2026-05-15T09:00:00.000+02:00

At Saint Flovier you get to see the human faces of the Great War.

Inside the church there is an unusual memorial. Put up sometime after 1918 thanks to Paul Gravier, a local benefactor, and designed by Lux Fournier, it showcases the faces of those locals that the War took away. Around a central painting representing Christ appearing to a fallen soldier, 54 photographs printed on enamel disks give a presence to these young men of Saint Flovier who died for France. Eleven other soldiers are identified just with a name plate but without a photo. Paul Gravier's grandson Patrick Chevalier de La Teillais was killed in 1918. His oldest daughter (and Patrick's aunt), Rosita, is said to have had a heart attack caused by the strong emotion produced when hearing the bells ring out to announce the end of the War. Paul Gravier had built a Renaissance Revival style chateau on the edge of the village in 1884 for a vast sum of money (a million and a half francs) and he and his wife Elisabeth Hugues had entertained lavishly. She died in 1905, and a few years after the War his other grandson died in an accident. On Paul Gravier's death the estate was divided and sold in relatively small parcels as farmland. The chateau was allowed to fall into ruin and has been demolished.

Amongst the faces is Paul Désiré Brault, born in Saint Flovier in 1894. A soldier in the 113th Infantry Regiment, he was sent to the Front in the autumn of 1914. Some weeks later he went missing at Boureuilles in the Meuse, far away from his native village.

And there is Louis Jules Blin, born in Fléré la Rivière in 1892. He joined the 90th Infantry Regiment in Le Blanc in 1912 and died of his wounds in Poitiers hospital in September 1914.

Gustave Guinot was born in Douadic in 1878. He joined up in 1898 in Le Blanc, recruited into the 9th Transport and Logistics Squadron. He died after a short illness whilst in service in November 1916 in Hospital 76 in Cannes.

Joseph Eugene Bruneau was born in Mer sur l'Indre in 1893 and was a sergeant in the 160th Infantry Regiment. He had joined up in Chateauroux in 1913 and was killed by the enemy at Ripont in the Marne in September 1915.

Victor Raoul Chasselay was born in Saint Flovier in 1890 and was a sergeant second class in the 49th Artillery Regiment. He was recruited at Le Blanc in 1910 and killed by the enemy at Eherdinghe in Belgium in May 1915. The records seem to indicate that his family were not notified for a year after his death.

When you stand in front of a memorial like this you don't just read the names. You do a calculation of how many young men never came back, and how that affected a village as small as Saint Flovier (population around 750). You look at their faces and imagine being their mother, or their wife. You wonder what they might have achieved if their fate had not been to die in the mud of some First World War battlefield. This is not just a list of names, albeit tragically young men, but men with faces, which makes them that much more present.

The service records of these men are available online at https://www.memoiredeshommes.defense.gouv.fr/conflits-operations/premiere-guerre-mondiale.

We're Difficult To Get To

2026-05-14T09:00:00.000+02:00

Anyone trying to visit us at the moment needs to know the back roads, and be able to tell the man at the bottom of our street what they're trying to do. There are works happening all over the place, including water pipe replacement on the road to Chaumussay, and resurfacing the main road between the Post Office and the turnoff to the Gymnasium.

This isn't the part of the main road being resurfaced, but it is in the same condition. Anyone from the UK or Australia will be horrified by the state of it. You can see the man at the bottom of our street (in orange) ready to tell motorists they have run out of options.

Work in progress. They were really getting on with it, to the extent it looks like it could be finished on schedule, which was yesterday evening. I haven't checked yet.

Saints de Glace

2026-05-13T09:00:00.007+02:00

The Ice Saints are those whose fêtes are on 11, 12 and 13 May. There is a saint for every day in France, and the saints for these particular dates are Saint Mamert, Saint Pancrace and Saint Servais. These are old saints, now desanctified and replaced by new Vatican approved saints, but there is much to be said for the agricultural tradition associated with the Saints de Glace. Farmers and gardeners watch the skies warily in May, because hail can damage seedlings and burgeoning fruit, and if the skies are clear frost is the enemy. In the old days, of course, one hail storm or a very deep frost could easily spell the difference between living well and living on the edge for a year. These days, it can still really affect a a producer's income. This year in our part of the Sud Touraine we haven't had any significant hail, but we have had a couple of very sharp rain storms. It's been a month since the last frosts, but that's no cause for complacency.

Looking at the skies last night I'm betting there won't be a frost.

According to Metro France on two years out of three there is a significant cold spell after the Saints de Glace

Look For the Little White Dog

2026-05-12T09:00:00.010+02:00

Jean Gourmelin was a French 20th century illustrator born in 1920, who produced works that highlighted the absurd and fantastical. He most often worked in pen and ink, but sometimes made engravings, paintings and sculptures. His works play with space, time and chance.

Stained glass window in the chapel of the Chateau Royal de Blois.

He was born in Paris and his parents worked for a wealthy Jewish family in their grand townhouse. At school the art teacher was quick to recognise his talent. When he was fourteen his parents bought a shop in Vendome and the family moved. At high school he encountered artists working in various media who mentored and influenced him.

After graduating from art school he worked designing and printing luxury wallpaper and very quickly became known in these circles. During the Second World War he worked as an industrial designer in a factory, in order to escape conscription into the compulsory work programme.

The little white dog which is the 'signature' of Jean Gourmelin.

From 1951 to 1969 he collaborated with his cousin Claude Serre, who was also an illustrator, and the master stained glass artist Max Ingrand. In that time they produced several series of stained glass windows, most notably for the chapels in the grounds of the chateaux of Blois and Amboise, and the cathedrals in Rouen and Saint-Malo.

All of the glass, both 16th originals and 19th century repairs, at the Chapel of the Chateau de Blois, and much of the glass in other churches in Blois, was destroyed during the American bombing campaign of 1944. After the War Ingrand and Gourmelin were commissioned to create new windows for the chapel. They worked together after the War on the windows of the chapel of Saint Hubert at the Chateau of Amboise as well. To recognise Gourmelin's work, look for the little dog with the curly tail, which is his personal 'signature'.

Stained glass in the Chapelle Saint Hubert, in the grounds of the Chateau Royal d'Amboise.

The windows in the Chapelle Saint Hubert in Amboise were made in Ingrand's workshop in 1952. They were conserved in 2022-24 as part of a total restoration of the chapel. Those of the Chapelle Saint Calais in the grounds of the Chateau Royal de Blois, were made in the same workshop in 1957, and have never been restored.

From 1961 onwards Gourmelin worked with science fiction writers and political journals. From 1971 onwards he participated in a television programme with other contemporary artists, illustrators and cartoonists.

In 2000 he developed a degenerative eye disease and gave up drawing. From 2008 he had a series of strokes, and died at the age of 90 in 2011. He and his wife had lived for 60 years in Hauts-de-Seine outside of Paris.

A Big Step

2026-05-11T09:00:00.001+02:00

We had a proper thunderous storm yesterday afternoon, the sort where if the road gutters aren't clean, houses get flooded.

That's not likely to worry the owner of this building.

I am interested that it still retains its Hand of Fatima door knocker.

8 Mai

2026-05-08T09:00:00.002+02:00

The 8th of May is "Victoire 45", a public holiday in France celebrating the end of the 2nd World War in Europe. The day is marked with celebrations and parades throughout France, and in Preuilly sur Claise it is no different.

We will be gathering at the Mairie just before 11:00 and then walking as a group to the war memorial for a short series of speeches and wreath laying. Afterwards we will be in the Salle de Fêtes for a glass of something and little nibbles.

The War Memorial at Verneuil, dressed for tomorrow

A Phoney Post

2026-05-07T09:05:00.004+02:00

Readers with good memory will remember that when we were in Australia 18 months ago I had to buy a new phone. That was because although the phone we took with us was 4G, it wasn't the flavour of 4G that Australia went to once they turned off the 3G signal.

When we got home that became my looking at the internet and maps phone, and I kept using my Wiko phone I bought in July 2022.

The first pic I took with my old phone

Yesterday the Australian phone became my main phone, and the Wiko is reduced to photo duties. It took 18 months for that to happen because I was dreading having to properly set up a new phone, and it turned out rightly so. I don't know how anyone deals with the stress of migrating to a new phone every year, whilst trying to maintain some sort of privacy.

The first pic I took with my new phone

Anyway. The new phone is working, and happily still doesn't receive a reliable signal while I am at home.

Something Fishy Is Going On

2026-05-06T09:00:00.013+02:00

On the 4th of October 2024 we posted about having written 6000 blog posts which had been viewed 4,408,662 times.

Things have changed since then: our all time visits now stand at 11,288,340, with 26,799 visits yesterday, and 482,374 visits last month.

I was interested enough to ask ClaudeAI what the reason could be. I had my suspicions, and this was the answer:

This is a really interesting question, and I think I can offer a strong likely explanation — though there may be more than one factor at play.

**The most probable cause: AI bot crawling**

Your blog covers nature, wildlife, history, French life, and food — exactly the kind of rich, detailed, original content that AI companies are aggressively harvesting to train their large language models. Automated traffic surpassed human-generated activity for the first time in a decade, accounting for 51% of all web traffic in 2024. Since then it's grown further.

Research from 2024 found that a record 16% of "general invalid traffic" from known bots was generated by AI scrapers such as GPTBot, ClaudeBot, and AppleBot. These bots hit every page they can find, and Blogger/Blogspot doesn't filter them out of your view counts the way more sophisticated platforms do. Your 6,000+ posts across many years give bots an enormous amount of pages to crawl.

Crawling traffic spiked twice — first in November 2024, then again between March and April 2025 — which aligns suspiciously well with your traffic jump from October 2024 onwards.

**Other contributing factors worth considering:**

- **Compound SEO effect.**

With 6,000+ posts built up over years, older posts continue to accumulate search ranking authority over time. A blog that old and that prolific keeps climbing organically in search results for niche queries about French nature, Loire Valley history, orchids, dragonflies, etc.

- **AI-generated search results driving curiosity.**When AI tools like ChatGPT or Perplexity cite or reference content about French natural history or life in the Loire Valley, some users do click through — even if the click-through rate is low.

- **Growing anglophone interest in rural France.**There's been sustained growth in people researching relocating to or visiting rural France, which is squarely your content.

The short version: you've built a genuinely valuable archive of content at exactly the moment AI companies started hoovering up the internet, and your view counter is almost certainly catching a lot of that automated activity.

I was right in my suspicions, but this is slightly worrying. The half life of facts would suggest that much of the stuff on the blog no longer applies. Add in the whimsy, local misdirections and suppositions and I wonder how relevant a lot of the information is now. We don't set out to deceive, but anyone looking for definitive, up to date information is likely to be directed by AI to restaurants that no longer exist (I've checked), boulangeries that closed 10 years ago (checked that too), and expect the sewing machine man to be at the market (not for many years). Or indeed other towns that have "Preuilly" in their names.

This is just one reason we would never use AI to write a blog post - once you have fact checked everything it turns out easier to do it ourselves - although I have in the past used AI to restructure and check grammar and spelling (UK English).

Should I ask Claude how many times he has crawled the blog?

The Church in Saint Flovier

2026-05-05T09:00:00.005+02:00

The 19th century church in the village of Saint Flovier, 15 minutes down the road from us.

Until last week I had never set foot inside the church in Saint Flovier. It is 19th century and I assumed that the interior would be faux medieval wall paintings and saccharine 19th century Madonnas. Well I was right. But the church also has a couple of decent 17-18th century paintings, and some chunky 15th century choir stalls with a range of misericords. There is another, 20th century treasure contained in this church, but I'll write about it another time.

Finial on one of the 15th century choir stalls.

The church was constructed in the 1880s in the Romanesque style. It replaced a 12th century church which was in a poor state of repair and too small. The architect was well known for his historic restorations and came from Paris. Inside notable artists of the day from Tours, Orleans and Paris created the decoration, including stained glass from the workshop of Luc Fournier in Tours. The paintings from the old church were transferred to the new one.

Finial on one of the 15th century choir stalls.

The 15th century oak choir stalls had come from the old abbey church in Beaulieu les Loches which had been destroyed in the Revolution. As was the norm for the time they feature misericords, or a sort of hinged ledge which functioned as a seat but allowed the monks to appear to be standing whilst they suffered through long services, or 'offices'. The misericords are carved with a variety of quirky subjects, mixing the sacred and the profane, clowns and devils, and illustrations of proverbs. Images such as 'green men' swallowing or spitting leaves symbolise the renewal of Nature. Debauchery is depicted by a pig's head or performing clowns.

The end of one of the 15th century choir stalls.

There is also a set of much more staid 17th century oak choir stalls. They were made during the reign of Louis XIII and feature acanthus leaves, angel's heads, pomegranates, swans and fish, in the style of their time.

A misericord depicting fish on a 17th century choir stall.

A misericord depicting pomegranates on a 17th century choir stall.

Misericord on a 15th century choir stall, depicting a jester with a rattle.

A misericord on one of the 15th century choir stalls, depicting a man in bed I think, although he's got his eyes open and wearing a tunic or doublet.

A 15th century misericord, depicting a man with a fashionable forked beard.

A 15th misericord depicting a boar's head.

A 15th century misericord depicting an acrobat exposing his backside. Images such as this are surprisingly common in medieval churches.

Lily of the Valley for 1 May

2026-05-01T09:00:00.007+02:00

On 1 May in much of Europe it is traditional to give a sprig of Lily of the Valley Convallaria majalis (muguet in French) to friends and family for good luck throughout the year. How the plants in the forest survive the annual onslaught of widely advertised outings to pick the flowers in the wild I do not know.

The bunch above is held by Nadine, who we encountered in the forest some days before, with her husband and grandson. They were spending quality family time picking wild Lily of the Valley. We greeted each other warmly and Nadine invited me to smell the flowers. They were divine!

Just then an oil beetle trundled across the path in front of us. I took the opportunity to talk about what amazing and weird (in a good way) creatures they are, for the benefit of the young boy. I was very pleased to observe that he didn't immediately attempt to stamp on it, but just watched it quietly. His grandparents made all the right 'how interesting!' noises.

Male Violet Oil Beetle Meloe violaceus in the Forest of Preuilly late April.

Not far from our little group was a young woman gathering ramsons (a type of wild garlic). She told me she planned to pickle the buds (so they are like capers) and make pesto from the leaves. We are very lucky to have good quality forest nearby for walking, foraging and socialising. The forest was a gift to the community from the previous private owner in the 20th century.

Charnizay's Mass Dials

2026-04-30T09:00:00.000+02:00

Looking at the Charnizay canonical sundials

(which no longer function because they predate the big 15th century buttresses).

Sundials on the church at Charnizay.

On the south facing exterior wall of the church in Charnizay are the remnants of four canonical sundials (only one of them still clear). In English they are also known as mass dials or scratch dials, in French they are called cadrans canonials. The purpose of these is not for the general public to tell the time per se, but for the priest to know when to perform the daily cycle of services. They date from the Middle Ages, maybe the 12th century. They are semi-circles, divided into six, eight or twelve sectors and vary according to the season. When they were etched into the wall the church only had small buttresses, but nowadays the sundials are in the shade of more massive buttresses added in the 15th century.

The use of mass dials began in the 7th century and continued until the 14th century. The lines don't correspond to the hours of the day as we know them, but to liturgical times, seasonally and geographically adjusted. They are usually a semi-circle, with a hole for a wooden stick where the radiating hour lines intersect. The sticks are always long gone, but their function was to cast a shadow so you knew what the canonical time was. Many mass dial enthusiasts recount finding a small stick and putting it in the hole, almost like a reflex action.

In the 6th and 7th centuries every congregation had their own rites and the number of divisions on the first canonical dials varied. Around the 8th century the Rule of Saint Benedict established a standard set of seven ceremonies or 'hours'. They were Matins/Lauds (midnight/before dawn), Prime (sunrise), Terce, Sext (noon), None, Vespers (sunset), and Compline (end of the day). These canonical hours do not have a temporal hour number associated with them, as they vary according to the seasons.

The canonical dials are positioned at head height, usually near the entrance. On grander churches they may be carved with care, but more often, and on little rural churches, they are crude and difficult to distinguish from graffiti.

It was towards the end of the 7th century, under the influence of the Venerable Bede in England, that canonical dials became widespread. Monks from England, Scotland and Ireland disseminated the practice throughout Europe.

Canonical dials continued to be used right into the 16th century, but by the 14th century the bigger churches and cathedrals started using clocks and the mass dials were slowly abandoned except in small rural churches.

There are around 1500 canonical dials still visible in France, mainly in Normandy, the Touraine and Charente, and in monasteries associated with the Camino de Santiago (Fr. chemin de Compostelle).

A Walk on the Eperon Barre de Murat

2026-04-28T09:00:00.001+02:00

The Eperon Barré de Murat is a ridge of limestone (Fr. tuffeau jaune) topped by a plateau at about 120 metres above sea level. This site, frequented by Mankind since the Neolithic was formed by the confluence of the valleys of the Brignon and the Larçon. It is a well known site for wild orchids and the habitat they require is maintained by a flying flock (Fr. troupeau itinerant) of grazing sheep. The calcareous grasslands shelter a number of insects, such as cicadas (Fr. cigales) and the Large Blue butterfly (Fr. papillon Azuré du serpolet) which require dry sunny places.

Tassel Hyacinth Muscari comosum (Fr. Muscari à toupet).

Two ancient defensive walls, called a vallum, are still visible at the narrow end of the site. They served to protect and 'bar' access to a prehistoric settlement.

There were lots of caterpillars of the localised and increasingly rare Small Eggar moth Eriogaster lanestris (in French the caterpillars are called la Laineuse du cerisier).

The site is managed by the Conservatoire d'Espaces Naturels Centre Val de Loire.

Small Heath butterfly Coenonympha pamphilus (Fr. Procris).

Earlier this month Simon and I did the 3.5 km circuit around the site so I could check the progress of the orchid flowering season. It was a hot sunny day in the mid-twenties temperature wise, and about half the walk is not shaded. Just to warn you -- this is a hot site much of the year, so take water to drink. We took about an hour to get around and saw 5 species of orchid in flower. Unbeknownst to me, my friend François, who is an ecologist for the Conservatoire, was also there that day. He bagged an extra species of orchid, damn him...

Downy Oak Quercus pubescens (Fr. Chêne pubescent).

Lady Orchid Orchis purpurea (Fr. Orchis pourpre).

View looking north-east from the vallum.

Violet Fritillary Boloria dia (Fr. Petite violette).

Narrow-leaved Helleborine Cephalanthera longifolia (Fr. Céphalanthère à feuilles étroites).

The uncommon Green-underside Blue butterfly Glaucopsyche alexis (Fr. Azuré des cytises).

A number of Early Spider Orchids Ophrys sphegodes (Fr. Ophrys araignée) lurking about in the grass.

Further Reading: https://espacesnaturels.touraine.fr/eperon-de-murat.html (page for the nature reserve, in French).

What to do About a Swarm of Honey Bees

2026-04-27T09:00:00.016+02:00

The answer is short and simple: contact a beekeeper immediately and they will come and collect the swarm. A beekeeper in France is an apiculteur. You can find contact details for dozens in your area by doing a simple internet search.

The sooner they are collected the better, for their own well-being, and for yours. If they are collected promptly it protects them from being caught out in bad weather (cold and/or wet), which is not uncommon in spring. It also gives them less time to become settled in an inappropriate new home, like your chimney or behind your shutters.

Swarming bees can sound and look alarming, but they are not really a threat to you. They are concentrating on protecting their queen, and finding a new home. Leave them alone and you will find that they will just peacefully attach themselves to a branch and hang there for some hours in a clump huddled around the queen to keep her warm. Scouts will come and go on their mission to find a new home and report back, but they can be safely ignored by you. Don't delay in calling a beekeeper to relocate the swarm though.

The second of two honey bee swarms I saw on 17 April this year. This one was on the Eperon Barré de Murat Nature Reserve where we walked that afternoon. The first was in our neighbour's garden, while we were having lunch in ours.

Honey bee colonies in the Touraine Loire Valley tend to be splitting up and on the move ie swarming from April to June. On Friday, coming back from the dentist, I drove into a swarm on the move between Ferrière Larçon and La Celle Guenand. A few unfortunately splatted on the windscreen. Somewhat disconcerting.

Fantastic Mr Fox

2026-04-24T09:00:00.001+02:00

Signs have gone up in the Forêt de Preuilly featuring a red fox, no doubt called Renard, who is instructing visitors to pack their rubbish out. There are no bins and Renard says 'Remportez vos déchets !'.

And in case you were wondering, the Roald Dahl story and later Wes Anderson movie Fantastic Mr Fox is called Fantastique Maître Renard in French.

Garlic

2026-04-22T09:00:00.002+02:00

Four weeks ago Susan blogged about our local garlic patch. It is now in bloom, and the smell is incredible.

The photo isn't the sharpest, but it does give you an idea of just how much wild garlic there is.

The Car Park at Chenonceau

2026-04-21T09:00:00.001+02:00

I'm sure I have written that title before, but hey-ho.

We were at Chenonceau last Saturday, and I was amazed to see that the car park has been completely reorganised. There is now a designated flow route, and the parking bays have been marked - with wooden logs so you can't ignore them. Luckily, my customary position is too hard to define that way, so it remains totally shaded, and available for random positioning, essential when you're driving a car with the turning circle of a Traction Avant.

It remains to be seen if it combats willful bad parking, and if the surface survives rain, but it's looking better without totally destroying the ambiance.

ANZAC Biscuits

2026-04-20T09:00:00.000+02:00

Since we are coming up to ANZAC Day, when Australians remember their war dead, on 25 April, I thought I would post a recipe for ANZAC biscuits today. These are delicious.

I copied the recipe from the back of a bag of flour, and it comes from the Country Women's Association, so it is the 'official' recipe. (In the UK the equivalent of the CWA is the Women's Institute, but I have no idea what the North American or French equivalents are.)

ANZAC Biscuits

Makes 50

Ingredients
1 cup plain flour
1 cup caster sugar
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup dessicated coconut
125g butter
1 tbsp golden syrup
2 tbsp boiling water
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

Method

Preheat oven to 180°C and lightly grease oven trays.
Combine flour, sugar, rolled oats and coconut.
Melt butter and golden syrup.
Add bicarb to boiling water and mix into butter mixture.
Stir into the dry ingredients.
Form the dough into large marble sized balls and drop onto trays, allowing generous room for spreading.
Bake for 10 minutes until light golden brown.
Cool on tray for 5 minutes before transferring to a rack to cool completely.

PS. ANZAC Day usually more or less coincides with la journée de Souvenir des Déportés in France, which commemorates the French men and women who were deported as forced labour, interned or sent to concentration camps during the Second World War.

No Post Today

2026-04-17T09:00:00.002+02:00

...,.. unless you count this.

Tourtheloire.com is our new website. Same address new look.

At the end of seven day's work, the new website it's at the stage where I can let it rest a while as it is. To my eyes there's no glaring problems that need solving "this instant" and I'm happy with the look (but already nostalgic for the slightly home-brewed look we previously had).

Meanwhile, a photo of a sunset. For no particular reason.

Using AI for a project like this has been interesting: frustrating at times, because machines "think" differently. I used a fairly generic prompt (modernise this website) then when we got to the stage where I was happy with look I (eventually) discovered that it's best to make one change at a time. If I tried to improve too many things at once one of the previous changes got reverted.

Still. It's finished for now, and I don't have to spend 18 hours trying to make a machine mind read my latest thought.

Of course, if you see a glaring problem, please use the contact form (it's here) to let me know.

The New Website

2026-04-15T09:00:00.001+02:00

After 4 incredibly long days our new Loire Valley Time Travel website is online.

There are one or two little glitches I'm in the process of sorting out, but I think so far I'm happy. The website is here.

There's not a lot of other news, yesterday was a nice day so I sat in the garden a while, played some guitar, and fretted about the new website.

Today I hope we can have a little adventure.

Oops a Daisy!

2026-04-14T09:00:00.001+02:00

You may have noticed there was no post yesterday. We've been distracted.

I have been spending the past four days recoding the Loire Valley Time Travel website. It's been rather all consuming, me doing the coding, and Susan reading the results, offering advice, and keeping my liquid and food levels up.

Here's a sneak preview:

It's not yet ready to be put online, but I think we're close.

Springtime in the Forest

2026-04-10T09:00:00.002+02:00

It has now reached the stage where even the most recalcitrant trees in the forest are starting to show signs of spring. These photos were taken on Monday, before we we went to the farm to buy veggies.

Monday before buying veggies is a regular walk time for us, it works really well, as combining two activities in the course of one car journey makes sense - especially with fuel at 2€09.

In other news, I have been using AI to redesign our website. No news on that yet, but it's getting close.

First Visit to the Touraine (20th Anniversary)

2026-04-09T09:00:00.109+02:00

This is part two of our search for a house, exactly twenty years ago. After the disappointment of having the offer for a house we weren't sure about turned down, I was anxious to get back on that horse.

April 9–12, 2006

The second trip happened while Susan was in Australia visiting her parents. She was at Ayers Rock, and I decided that it was time to test the waters again. I rang my mate, Bryan the Artist, and asked if he was interested in a trip. This time we were going to Loches in Indre et Loire.

Bryan lives in Cockermouth (oop north), so we arranged that he would drive to Stansted Airport, and we would fly to Paris together, driving from there. The flights, hotel and car were booked – then the French Air Traffic Controllers went on strike and all flights were cancelled.

This was a problem, because Bryan had a meeting the next week he couldn't miss. Luckily a window opened, and we arranged to fly out on the Sunday and back on the Wednesday. This would allow us time to visit the market in Loches on Wednesday. Bryan was flying from Durham with BMI, and I was flying from Heathrow with BA.

Amazingly, both flights were on time, and we even managed to meet up in the agreed place. Car hired, we hotfooted it around Paris in the rush hour, spending a lot of time following a circus van carrying an alligator. We found a hotel in Amboise (eventually) where one or two beers were partaken of before bedtime.

The next day it was, as on the previous trip, a parade of uninspiring properties, albeit with some amazing views and interesting signs in between, including Valencay and a threatening set of clouds. Although we were getting fairly hungry for lunch (Monday and all the shops and restaurants being closed), we weren't tempted to have burgers.

Storm clouds near Valencay

I was pretty dispirited by the houses I had seen so far. There were places being advertised on the internet that looked promising, but once again they had been sold the day before I arrived in France.

It appears that some people arrive in the country and simply make an offer without any kind of survey. Susan and I had always intended to have any house we were really interested in surveyed properly before making an offer. We weren't going to buy somewhere on a whim only to find later it was structurally unsound – or needed a new roof.

Luckily, a good dinner and a digestif restored my faith, and the views of the chateau and old town of Loches are enough to restore anyone's spirit.

The House at St Jean de Sauves

Loches and our hotel

Angel Food at the Gerbe d'Or

Lettuces in Loches

On the way home we visited the gardens (well – the car park) at Chenonceaux, then retraced our route to Charles de Gaulle airport. Once again it was rush hour and it felt like we were going to miss every turn while trying to find somewhere to fill the car with fuel.

Absolute bedlam, and I vowed never again to fly into Paris. Bryan didn't miss his flight, although I'm not sure how, and I was four hours early for mine.

Simon

A lot has changed since this trip. The Gerbe d'Or has changed hands a couple of times before becoming Abore et Sens. "Our hotel" has also changed hands and reopened as “Le George”, and is much improved.

What hasn't changed is the market, which has become a not quite regular part of our lives. Susan received an email in the Northern Territory with the lettuce photo saying “we must live here”. It amused her then, and it's a story she still tells.

You may find the photos slightly disappointing – digital cameras weren't all they are now.

What the Heck is That?!

2026-04-08T09:00:00.003+02:00

Any minute now bizarre lumbering irridescent black beetles will be appearing in woods and grasslands in the Touraine Loire Valley. These are the ranunculus munching oil beetles. They like buttercups and wood anemones, which they eat so they can accumulate their toxins. It makes the beetles themselves toxic, and their larvae, which you might spot sitting on flowers, trying to hitch a lift on a bee. Once their ride has arrived they get transported into the bee's nest, and will feed on the pollen gathered by the bees for their own larvae.

Violet Oil Beetle. This one was photographed a few years ago at the Moulin de Malicorne in the Courtineau Valley.

Nine times out of ten they will be Violet Oil Beetle Meloe violaceus (Fr. Méloé violet). I know, I counted my records. But occasionally I will see a Black Oil Beetle Meloe proscarabeus (Fr. Méloé printanier). Their alternative name in French is 'enfle-boeuf' ('swollen beef'), because as ancient texts mention, if they are accidentally ingested by grazing animals the toxins in the beetle will cause the beast to swell up, possibly even to the point of death.

Black Oil Beetle. They are so similar to M. violaceus I usually have to ask for expert help to confirm the species.

Because they are parasites I sometimes get asked if we should kill oil beetles if we see them, to help the bees. My response is NO!! The presence of parasites is a good sign for the host. It means the population is sufficient to support parasites -- who are not out to kill the entire population, because that would be depriving them of their own food. Monitoring parasites can be a good way of extrapolating information about hosts. If both are in decline then that's a problem -- and that is the case with this pairing. In addition, you don't want to kill a native species going about its business. The higher the biodiversity ie the higher the number of species, the more stable the ecology is. Everything is linked, and specialist species like the oil beetles are the keys to a well functioning natural system.

Who Knew What the Wallpaper Would Tell Us?!

2026-04-07T09:00:00.008+02:00

The other day we had lunch at Restaurant l'Image, just around the corner from where we live. Sections of the wall in the bar are covered with old nicotine stained wallpaper. It features couples in military uniforms dating from at least a decade earlier than I estimate the wallpaper was printed. Mathieu, the owner, reckons the wallpaper is original to when the building first became a bar, hotel and restaurant in the 1880s. But apart from that he didn't know anything else about it.

'Infantry Regiment of the Line

Valor and Discipline

23rd Brigade'

So I decided to do a bit of research. A rummage through the online archive of the Musée du Papier Peint in Rixheim didn't reveal an exact match, but it was clear that stylistically the wallpaper dates from the 1880s or 90s.

'Regiment of the Imperial Guard

Cavalry

3rd Squadron quartered at Nevers

Company ?? the Emperor'

Members of this regiment are Elite Gendarmes, sarcastically nicknamed The Immortals by the rest of the army, because they rarely saw active combat. Their role is security for high-ranking officials and major towns (and today their equivalent is most visible internationally as the police* motor bike escort for the Tour de France cycle race and the Guard at the Elysée Palace, the official residence in Paris of the President of the Republic).

Then I discovered the Images d'Epinal, an enormous range of popular illustrations produced by a 19th century printing firm in Epinal. I'd never heard of them before, but they are iconic, collectible and easy to recognise. I've certainly seen them before without knowing they had a name. Their main output was postcards (and I assume, cigarette cards), but they did posters, illustrated stories and paper dolls too. They also spawned several imitators, so the wallpaper is 'in the style of' the original Images d'Epinal.

'The Emperor of the French Advance 27th Dragoon Regiment

Colonel the Duke of F?

Shining, youth, ?? '

One of their best known themes was military scenes and uniforms, particularly of the Napoleonic era. They helped spark a wave of patriotism and pride in the French military at several points during the 19th century. The soldiers in their illustrations were always depicted in immaculate and scrupulously correct uniforms, looking dashing and often performing heroic acts. The illustrations on this late 19th century wallpaper are deliberate nostalgia. But rather than being from the time of Napoleon I, they show military uniforms from the time of his nephew, Napoleon III, who reigned from 1852 to 1870. Romantically, the wallpaper shows couples - a male soldier, and a female cantinière, in their respective uniforms. In real life army regulations required that a cantinière was married to a soldier in the regiment that she served in.

You can see the nicotine staining very clearly in this photo.

Cantinières are combat auxiliaries associated with the French army for centuries up to the First World War. Mostly their role was unofficial, but their heyday was during the Second Empire, right at the time this wallpaper depicts. During that period they were an acknowleged part of a regiment, with a uniform and the right to march with the troops in parades. Their job was to provide sustenance, to make sure the soldiers were kept supplied with sufficient nutritious food to stay fighting fit. Unofficially they also provided nursing and first aid. They set up their tents (canteens) anywhere that their regiment was, including at the front line. As well as meals and drinks they might also provide other essentials such as stationery for writing home, tobacco, and just a nice warm friendly place to take a break, especially in the days when the regiment advanced rapidly and soldiers were forced to leave their personal tents behind.

Cantinières carried a tonnelet (small barrel) of brandy on a strap over their shoulder. This was their trademark and made them easily identifiable. They were business women, independent of their soldier husband, and undertook to buy and sell provisions as the regiment performed their military duties, either from barracks or on campaign. Some cantinieres carried muskets and were perfectly prepared to fight as well as cook.

These women became icons of popular culture, and from the mid-19th century, when brands and advertising in the modern sense were being invented, idealised cantinières were frequently deliberately associated with comestible products. This indicates that the public view of the cantinières was positive, the idea being that these women were experts in nutritious, wholesome victuals. Even so they were sometimes inauthentically depicted in advertising wearing long skirts and riding side saddle, in order to avoid any accusations of unladylike behaviour.

In modern times, if people have heard of cantinières, there is almost always the assumption that they were camp following prostitutes. However, there is no evidence that this was the case, and if they had been it is the sort of thing that would have been commented on at the time.

Further reading: The great expert on French cantinières is the American historian Thomas Cardoza, so if you are interested in the subject then seek out his book Intrepid Women.

Note that in English these women are generally referred to by the old French term for them which is vivandières. For practical purposes in French the two words are interchangeable, but the term vivandière may have been dropped because it was seen as being associated with the Ancien Regime (Bourbon rule) and the term cantinière is associated with the Napoleonic Empires.

*Yes, I know that the Police and the Gendarmes are two different organisations in France, but for practical purposes the Gendarmes act as the Police in anglophone countries would in this situation.