Ile de Noirmoutier
16-17 March 2007
Travelling by motor home really facilitates moving on with no set itinerary or even a destination. Looking at a map will often suggest an interesting place. Ile de Noirmoutier was one of those interesting looking places that really was interesting. In part we were attracted by its long narrow landmass reaching out into the Atlantic. And the map notation « Passage du Gois (route practicable à bas mer) » (usable route only at low tide) seemed intriguing.
Jutting about 20 km into the Atlantic and varying in width from 1 to 6 km, Nourmoutier, until 1971, was accessible only by boat or at low tide by the 4.15 km long “Gois”.
The Gois is covered by asphalt or paving blocks. With a large tidal range, at high tide the Gois can be covered by as little as 1.3 meters and as much as 4 meters of water.
The pylons mark the route and serve as something of a last resort refuge for those caught by the tide. No doubt there have been a few water-logged engines since the tide comes in very quickly over a flat sea bottom. The Gois was built in 1766 and ultimately paved 170 years later between 1935 and 1939 (during low tides). For the faint-hearted, or those who miss the low tide window, the 583 meter long bridge provides a less challenging route to the Isle.
For once the tourist literature does not overstate the case for a visit. “It is like being in a dream. There are white walled houses on the seafront. Flowers everywhere. Beaches of fine golden sand fringed by pine forests, green oaks, woods and mimosa. Sand dunes. There are natural salt marshes, reserves where large numbers of wild birds fly freely. There are windmills, a castle, museums and old sailing rigs. There is music in the bars and in people’s hearts. Theatre, shows and crowds clapping; happy people. Busy markets, shopkeepers, craftsmen, flea markets and displays. Light and colour are everywhere. Painters, artists. And – there is a peacefulness and the sound of lapping waves. The sea draws back and creates, as if by magic, a passage, a road. The fresh wind gusts and the air feels good. Bicycles follow the lanes and paths. There is also the sea spray – boats, yachts, regattas and the ports are full of life. There are horses, playing fields and trails to meander along…”
For us it was all of this, except the crowds. Ah we love that late winter in the south when there are no crowds, the breeze is light and the sun is warm. A good book, a jug of wine, … and thou.
The island’s church has a long history. Dedicated to Saint-Philbert, it arose on the site of an abbey created by Philbert in 677 AD. Pillaged by the Saracens at the beginning of the 8th century, it was rebuilt at the end of the 11th century (the nave and the choir) over the primitive chapel of
Saint-Philbert, the actual crypt of today’s church.
Between the late 1500’s and the middle of the 17th century the nave was expanded on the left and right. It is situated across from the 12th century fortified château.
Despite its age, Saint Phibert’s has a sense of light and a feeling of lightness and airiness.
The magnificently preserved 12th century castle promised to “vous séduire par son architecture remarquable”. Since it was closed for major renovations to one of its towers, we had to be satisfied with being “virtually” seduced by its remarkable architecture since all we could see were the external walls.
As promised there were historic sailing ships, aground and propped up at low tide.
There was abundant evidence of farming, including the harvesting of sea salt by flooding these beds at high tides and then sealing them off to evaporate, leaving the sea salt behind. If you’ve been reading your bilingual containers in Canada you’ll know that “sel” is French for salt.
The promised restaurants were there. Here Marie-Claire enjoys a cheese, ham and egg “gallette” – a square crèpe - and her red wine while Roger works on a tasty, brown Pelforth to accompany his gallette.
And there are indeed white houses by the sea – in this case the small, traditional homes of fisherman in le Petit Vieill.
The happy crowds were not there although were happy people on the streets.
And there are indeed excellent bicycle paths joining all 6 communities on the Isle. And lots of quiet reserves for aquatic birds.
So whether you choose the modern bridge or the ancient low tide causeway to the Ile de Noirmoutier, drive, walk or cycle your way to this idyllic spot.
Travelling by motor home really facilitates moving on with no set itinerary or even a destination. Looking at a map will often suggest an interesting place. Ile de Noirmoutier was one of those interesting looking places that really was interesting. In part we were attracted by its long narrow landmass reaching out into the Atlantic. And the map notation « Passage du Gois (route practicable à bas mer) » (usable route only at low tide) seemed intriguing.
Jutting about 20 km into the Atlantic and varying in width from 1 to 6 km, Nourmoutier, until 1971, was accessible only by boat or at low tide by the 4.15 km long “Gois”.
The Gois is covered by asphalt or paving blocks. With a large tidal range, at high tide the Gois can be covered by as little as 1.3 meters and as much as 4 meters of water.The pylons mark the route and serve as something of a last resort refuge for those caught by the tide. No doubt there have been a few water-logged engines since the tide comes in very quickly over a flat sea bottom. The Gois was built in 1766 and ultimately paved 170 years later between 1935 and 1939 (during low tides). For the faint-hearted, or those who miss the low tide window, the 583 meter long bridge provides a less challenging route to the Isle.
For once the tourist literature does not overstate the case for a visit. “It is like being in a dream. There are white walled houses on the seafront. Flowers everywhere. Beaches of fine golden sand fringed by pine forests, green oaks, woods and mimosa. Sand dunes. There are natural salt marshes, reserves where large numbers of wild birds fly freely. There are windmills, a castle, museums and old sailing rigs. There is music in the bars and in people’s hearts. Theatre, shows and crowds clapping; happy people. Busy markets, shopkeepers, craftsmen, flea markets and displays. Light and colour are everywhere. Painters, artists. And – there is a peacefulness and the sound of lapping waves. The sea draws back and creates, as if by magic, a passage, a road. The fresh wind gusts and the air feels good. Bicycles follow the lanes and paths. There is also the sea spray – boats, yachts, regattas and the ports are full of life. There are horses, playing fields and trails to meander along…”
For us it was all of this, except the crowds. Ah we love that late winter in the south when there are no crowds, the breeze is light and the sun is warm. A good book, a jug of wine, … and thou.The island’s church has a long history. Dedicated to Saint-Philbert, it arose on the site of an abbey created by Philbert in 677 AD. Pillaged by the Saracens at the beginning of the 8th century, it was rebuilt at the end of the 11th century (the nave and the choir) over the primitive chapel of
Saint-Philbert, the actual crypt of today’s church.
Between the late 1500’s and the middle of the 17th century the nave was expanded on the left and right. It is situated across from the 12th century fortified château.Despite its age, Saint Phibert’s has a sense of light and a feeling of lightness and airiness.
The magnificently preserved 12th century castle promised to “vous séduire par son architecture remarquable”. Since it was closed for major renovations to one of its towers, we had to be satisfied with being “virtually” seduced by its remarkable architecture since all we could see were the external walls.
As promised there were historic sailing ships, aground and propped up at low tide.
There was abundant evidence of farming, including the harvesting of sea salt by flooding these beds at high tides and then sealing them off to evaporate, leaving the sea salt behind. If you’ve been reading your bilingual containers in Canada you’ll know that “sel” is French for salt.
The promised restaurants were there. Here Marie-Claire enjoys a cheese, ham and egg “gallette” – a square crèpe - and her red wine while Roger works on a tasty, brown Pelforth to accompany his gallette.
And there are indeed white houses by the sea – in this case the small, traditional homes of fisherman in le Petit Vieill.
The happy crowds were not there although were happy people on the streets.And there are indeed excellent bicycle paths joining all 6 communities on the Isle. And lots of quiet reserves for aquatic birds.
So whether you choose the modern bridge or the ancient low tide causeway to the Ile de Noirmoutier, drive, walk or cycle your way to this idyllic spot.
posted by Retired and on the Move | 4:07 AM
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