With me going to France is like an addiction. The more I get of it the more I want. Given that I now have all this free time it seemed obvious that and I should use some of her Christmas school holidays by going to France. Given as well that now Aer Arann were flying direct to Lorient in Brittany from Waterford Airport once a week this seemed the obvious place to start from. The joys of not having several hours driving before and after our holidays was seductive.

We booked return flights with Aer Arann out on the 1st January, back on the 8th.

Then the comparatively easy problem of where to find a gite in the reasonably near vicinity of Lorient for that week had to be resolved. Drawing a rough 3 hours driving circle around the port of Lorient left one with three options. Northern Brittany (called West Cork with croissants by a cynical friend), the Vendee (quite the most numbingly boring part of France, great beaches OK, but in January?) or the obvious solution; the Loire.
Sile and I had worked together there a unbelievable 31 years ago and had already been back several times with the children on various camping holidays and we are both addicted to the Chateaux (unlike beaches ,OK in January).

Thanks to an excellent web site www.frenchconnections.co.uk we found a lovely gite for 2 near Saumur. This was called Les Hautes Guissinieres near Gizeux mid way between Angers (our old stamping ground) and Tours and within day tripping distance of several Loire Chateaux we hadn’t yet been to.
So far so good, but it got even better. This was our first January trip to France and we mailed the Nairns -the gite owners-about getting logs for the fire. They mailed us back to say that because of our enquiry they had tested the fire for the first time, discovered that it smoked so had gotten a wood burning stove installed, plus a plentiful supply of logs in the garage. this seemed an excellent portent of things to come.

We set out on the 1st, having, for once, been wonderfully abstemious on New Years Eve, and the trip to Waterford Airport (10 mts. door to door) and the flight all went perfectly. No trouble with our right hand drive hired car (up graded to a Golf) other than madly flapping one’s hands about trying to change gear with the door handle and concentrating very hard to keep on the right side of the road.
The day of our arrival was New Years day in France and we had correctly surmised that the whole of France would be firmly closed on this day. There were two exceptions. Every florist in Brittany was doing a roaring trade as the entire male population bought large bouquets for their ladies (why did I keep thinking it was for Mere rather than Femme ?) and the odd boulangerie was opened so, we were able to buy some bread. It was imperative that we got a substantial lunch somewhere as the only food we had with us was some emergency Wexford cheddar and crackers.

We had tried to book a table in a starred restaurant en route but had not booked because they had kindly sent us the price of their prix fixe for lunch on this feast day; €120 per person (mind you for a stunning 8 course meal)so we imagined that it was going to be Pizza somewhere. As I was driving looked up the Michelin and found a “Bib Gourmand” (moderate but good) in Ancenis called Le Toile au Beurre. This was just near our route, and, a mobile call established that yes, they could take us at 2.00 which would be just as we got there.
This turned out to be the sort of French restaurant you dream about but rarely see any more. Decor plain to the point of austerity in an old shop where all the old beams etc were lovingly preserved. The lunch menu for three courses was €25 (very cheap for what it contained) we were in business.
The chef had a great sense of the locality so we were able to eat great specialties of the Loire. I had a delicious starter of smoked Sandre (Pike-Perch) native to the river, had a bisque of Ecrivisse, the river prawn which- even though they are now mostly imported from Bulgaria – are quite delicious.
I had a main course of Eel, Pied de Mouton mushrooms and more Ecrivisse all tossed in delicious garlic butter, and Sile ate some poached Sandre, for dessert we both had some very French pear and Almond tart.
We left a couple of hours later much satisfied and with a bottle of Bourgueil St Nicolas (just down the road from our gite) kindly packed by the proprietors for our cheese and cracker supper.

The Gite itself(which we found with very little trouble) was superb.
It was a 17th century attachment to a main (unoccupied at this time) house which had been lovingly converted to a small gite for two. It was all open plan on two floors, all the original features carefully maintained down to the great Tufa stone fireplace and the original pegs keeping the beams in place.
Our supper of Wexford cheddar slipped down a treat with the fine Bourgueil and we fell in to the bed at about 9.00 to sleep -was it exhaustion or the quiet of the countryside- for a refreshing 12 hours. Amazing!

The principal problem the following day was to get to a market, as, it being the Sunday after the New Year, most of the shops were still closed. We found one fairly grubby, and packed Super U which provided us with the bare necessities (and where I insisted in buying a “Bag for Life” to swank it up in the Irish Supermarkets-this was to prove an essential purchase later) We found a market on the outskirts of Saumur, tiny but with all we needed.
French markets in winter are a revelation. With no tourists around there is much less tat and a totally different selection of winter vegetables.
We bought some Coeures des Choux , hearts of young cabbage which, Madame the stallholder told us, we should blanch and eat with a vinaigrette, and some small Jerusalem Artichoke type vegetables( NOT Topinambours Madam assured us, much stronger) and some delicious examples of my favourite potatoes which go by the unappealing name of “Les Rattes”.
All these were to eat with some thighs from some Poulets Fermieres, and, for afters, a Galettes des Rois- a traditional Loire cake for the Epiphany, puff pastry with an almond filling- much like a Pithiviers-but which Madame La Boulingiere assured us contained “a bean” for the feast, this like our own bean in the Barm Brack signified wealth to the one who was given that slice.
So, fortified with the prospect of feasts to come, we headed off to investigate Langeais Château. This was a feast in itself.
We had never heard of Langeais before we found it just about 10 klm down the road from our Gite. This is not surprising when you consider that the Loire area is awash with famous châteaux. Castles which would be dazzling stars in other regions fade beside the big guns of the Loire like Chenoncaux with its stunning bridge construction on the Cher, or Villandry with its marvellous ornamental vegetable garden.
Langeais’s great interest for us was its marvellous collection of 15th and 16th furniture and tapestries.

These proved beautiful and most unusual. The locks on some of the early oak chests were of such amazing and complex construction to be alone “worth the journey”.
From an historical perspective Anne of Brittany married Charles V111 of France here in 1491, thereby uniting huge tracts of France for the first time.
A fascinating part of the marriage contract was that she agreed to marry his heir should Charles predecease her without issue. This he upped and did so she had to marry his cousin Louis X11 in 1498. The same Louis she had previously refused. So much for the privileges of royalty.
Back in the gite that night we feasted royally on our market purchases. We ended up pot roasting the chicken legs with the “not topenambours” and whole cloves of garlic. The result was marvellously flavourful with the soft vegetables providing a sauce with the positively gamy (to our battery reared mouths) chicken. The “Bean” in the Galettes des Rois turned out to be a rather pretty china thimble which I got, then promptly dropped and smashed thereby ruining again all chances of wealth during 2005.
This little incident was to come back to me later.

And so the week went on, Chateaux, and food, food and Chateaux.
Highlights were being brought around Chinon Castle alone by Didier, an English speaking guide. There we saw the room where the Dauphin failed to fool Joan of Arc by hiding in the crowd and making one of his underlings pretend to be him. We loved Amboise Chateau with its amazing Tour de Millimes where the horsemen were able to ride up a spiral ramp right up to the ramparts from the street far below. We ate excellent Saussison de Toulouse, Rillettes d’Oie (a fabulously rich goose pate). We always ate at home at night but often ate lunch out. We had tender smoky and rare lamb cooked on charcoal in a small restaurant in Amboise, an excellent and unexpected potato and cheese Pizza in a Creperie in Noyant, and even had a picnic of left overs on a table by the river in Chinon.
We were drinking well too. The area had great reds and very good sparkling whites these from Saumur and Vouvray which are great value at €3 /€4 each. The non sparkling whites, although very good were a little above our budget.
We decided to buy some red to take home.
Wine snobs we are not but we do like a nice bottle, or two.
The decision was made to try and get some St. Nicolas de Bourgueil in “bag in box” (the only way to carry wine back from France by plane-if you are sniffy about drinking your wine from a plastic bag you can always decant it at home) and that I would take this on the plane in the innocent Super U bag masquerading as some last minute purchases, hiding the fact that it weighed in at a good 10 kg. The trouble was where to begin.Bourgeuil is full of small individual vignerons. As we approached the town our state of the art Golf told us that we needed to buy petrol. Obedient as always to things electronic when they get uppity I stopped at the nearest garage and filled up.
When I went in to pay my bill Madame le Garage smiled at me in a sufficiently charming fashion to give me courage to exercise some of my French on her. I explained that we were just entering a village of hundreds of vignerons and we needed to get some, not too dear, wine to take home in a bag in box. This was no trouble at all to Madame.
” You must go to Thierry Lamoureux in Le Fondis. He is the most meticulous wine maker, it is what we drink at home and he does bag in box.”
She then wrote out directions, drew a map and looked up the phone book to give me his number. (Ireland of the welcomes? Eat your heart out)
To cut a long story short we found Theirry, were conquered by the quality of his wine and left with an arm stretching 10litre bag in box, and all for €33.

It wasn’t just the unexpected kindness of the people, the weather didn’t let us down either, mainly dry and cold and crisp. Ideal for stuffy castles and wood burning evenings chez nous .The week was over in a flash. Saturday morning had us packed and ready and not able to believe that after a mere 90 mts in the air we would be 10 mts from home.
More fools us.
It was a fairly miserable journey from Gizeux to Lorient. Even though it was mainly on motorway driving in the dark is never fun and there was a lot of rain. We arrived eventually 15 mts before out check in time. We emptied the car and struggled with our six pieces of luggage- including the weighty shopping bag in box- to check in. Nearly home we thought.
We arrived to consternation in the airport. Lorient is a tiny airport. Everyone there at that time was waiting for the Irish flight. It had been cancelled, we were not told why. No Aer Arann rep in the Airport, no solutions, no possibility of another flight home. Sort yourselves out .
There was huge distress. People had booked holidays in Ireland, people were going home after holidays, business people were about their jobs.
The Air France reps were patient and helpful. The choices were few.
Re-book a car and try and get on to a Ryanair plane somewhere in France.(Tomorrow at the earliest, and then people said they had got the last seats tomorrow.) Drive to Dinan and get a flight to London, Maybe get home by Monday afternoon.
The last solution was to fly this afternoon to Orly in Paris, coach across the city and get a business class seat on a flight to Dublin that night. Business class is modern parlance for first class. Cost €750, per head.
We had no choice, is a primary school teacher. School starts on Monday. We handed in our credit card. They took out €1500 plus some small change.(I was the one who had broken the thimble after all)
We then spent the next three hours in Lorient Airport, got our flight to Orly,coached successfully from Orly to de Gaulle in 35 mts along the Parisian periferique driven by a madman who thought he was driving a mini instead of a 45 passenger coach. We arrived in the airport in plenty of time and decided to check in to get rid of the baggage before having a quick meal.
This was the moment when bombshell number two burst.
The check in lady said, “I’ m afraid this flight has been over booked we will have to put you on standby”.
Sile then decided that enough was enough. She raised her hands and her voice: “Do you mean to tell me that having spent €1500 four hours ago you now have the temerity to tell me the flight is overbooked”. I must say that when roused is magnificent. This kind of a scene is child’s play for someone who can silence 30 four year olds by clearing her throat.
The check in lady was terrified, she could only say ” I’m sorry. I’m sorry”. She then said that she would summons her superior and if we would come back in 15 mts he would sort us out. We went off, had an airport sandwich (even the French can’t manage an airport sandwich) and got back in 10mts. The waiting list area was now crowded with people like us. The Air France people were running in and out of each others desks like the usual decapitated chickens. An emissary was sent up to us. “Are you the business class people who were dumped? Come and meet God” (or words to that effect)
God, in his incarnation as the Air France Boss was surprisingly young but obviously had clout.
If we were prepared to waive our claim on tonight’s flight (on which there was a possibility of only one seat) Air France would be prepared to offer to disgruntled business class customers the following ; to put us up in a hotel tonight, feed us, give us a place in business class on the first flight out to Dublin tomorrow, and compensate us for our discomfort to the tune of €1500 worth of Air France vouchers to be used by us, or by anyone appointed by us in the next year. My yes was immediate, Sile had to be persuaded , we were brought over to a quiet area to be given the vouchers.
He discovered straight away that the flight the following morning didn’t have a first class so the ante was raised to €1800 in vouchers. We accepted graciously.
As this surreal scenario unfolded in front of us I couldn’t help but be amazed by the irony of our being recompensed by Air France’s error for the dumping by Aer Arann.
We then had a comfortable night, a bad airport hotel meal, too much wine to compensate for the trauma and got our flight to Dublin the following morning.
However there was one more strange twist to the trip home. As we queued up to check in that morning we noticed more people being bumped off the flight. I could all but sense Sile beside me getting ready to say to the check in man “Come on make my day!”. This wasn’t necessary. On the contrary we got large yellow priority stickers put on our luggage, were put on the first row on the plane with a seat put down between us in case we crushed each other unintentionally. We were offered complimentary champagne before we even took off, fresh hot towels as soon as we did, and generally fussed about as I imagine business class passengers usually are.
Bear in mind that this happened after we had been offered an extra €300 in vouchers for the indignity of travelling economy.
Then that really was it, we went back to Waterford by train that day, collected our car from the airport and life went back to normal. We have started to try and get some compensation from Aer Arran. So far they haven’t answered our calls. We’ll let you know.
I must warn you though, it hasn’t cured my addiction to France .

Post Script.
A month later Aer Arann rang and offered us €230 to return the cost of our flights home and €250 each as a consolante towards the flight from Paris.
We accepted.

Post Post Scriptum.
Two months later our travel insurance company has sent us a cheque for €101.56 to compensate for the delay. How they arrived at this figure the lord only knows, but, every little helps.

Post Post Post Scriptum
In April we used roughly€500 worth of the vouchers on return flights to Paris for the two of us.

Last Scriptum.
The final solution.
December 8th 2005
As the vouchers were due to run out next month
I sent all remaining ones to Air France and they rang me this morning with the final encashment values.
€735.

So for our €1500 purchase of tickets we got.
Dinner and B&B in Paris Hotel
1st Class Flight home
€101 Insurance compensation
1st Class flight Lorien Paris
€500 return to Paris
Cheque €735

And that does not include the €730 compensation from Aer Arran.

I dont know, you do the sums but it seems to me we got out OK

And got a story out of it!