Nantes, the Castle of the Dukes of Brittany - The 10th and 11th of January 2014

I got into Nantes Aeroport fairly late in the evening of the 10th, having only had time to get into town and look for the Hotel I was booked at, which was located right in front of the Church of Saint Clément.

The evening was quite cold and the moment I went to bed I knew I would most probably be sick the following day as I felt a sore throat and could hardly speak.

I was not going to let the cold affect my two day trip to Nantes, so having taken some aspirin I walked out of the hotel in the direction of Place Marc Elder where the statue of Anne of Brittany, twice Queen of France welcomed visitors to the Castle of the Dukes of Brittany, known to have been their residence between the 13th and 16th centuries.

The outside  fortress-like walls and the castle moat gardens in no way made me envisage the beauty of the local tufa limestone residential palace with its carved façades, which I just caught a glimpse of as I walked into the courtyard from the stone bridge.


It comprised several buildings amongst which were le Grand Gouvernment or Palais Ducal, which served as the residence of the governors of Brittany, le Petit Gouvernement, former home of the King of France on his visits to Nantes, le Harnachement, once used as an artillery store, now turned into an exhibition centre and la Conciergerie, which was the former lodge of the lieutenant of the Duke.

A crown-shaped well caught my attention and so did a few details of the Petit Gouvernement and the Gothic and Renaissance Loggias decorative elements as I thoroughly listened to the audio guide.

The moment I started my visit I had no idea I would be spending the next three hours in its Museum and on a temporary exhibition held at the Harnachement building.

(To be continued)

Restlessness ... and reading

I have been restless at night, which together with the recent cold the country has been subjected to has had a bearing on my "reading. The moment I get home from work I "dive" into my bedroom sheets and grab a book ..., not just any book (the one recently selected has been Paul Auster's latest) ...

I have twice been almost late for work because of having read through till early morning ... but the pleasure I have had out of reading the 341 pages of "Report from the interior" is immense despite not having been one of his most acclaimed books so far.

The fact that it is a recollection of his early sensations and impressions followed by extended synopses of two films which have had a strong impact in his youth (the almost Kafkaesque drama "The incredible shrinking man" and "I am a fugitive from the chain gang), a series of letters written to his former wife and a selection of photographs, has turned it into a widely varied reflection, I have none the less appreciated, particularly because many of our recollections and "memories" of the past bear that particular form.

New Year's eve celebrations -The 30th and 31st of December 2013

I decided to invite Beta, Carla, Dulce and Tânia out on the 30th of December in what I would consider a thankful gesture for having had my "physical beauty" looked after throughout the entire year. One does get attached to those who seem to know a lot more about the texture of your hair and nails than you do yourself and more so because they seem to look after them in a rather proud way despite being paid for it.

We had quite an interesting amusing late evening meal at Mr. Manuel's, a local restaurant I often go to since I was operated on.

The French Alps cosy and rather intimate one-to-one New Year's eve dinners I cherished over a period of nine years have this year been substituted by  a dinner gathering at Carina and Rui's in which friends and random acquaintances of mixed nationalities gathered around a table filled with all sorts of different starters, Lasagnas for vegetarian and "less vegetarian" tastes, as well as assorted desserts and  a wide variety of wine choices.

If anyone didn't overindulge in food and drink were almost certainly Tipi and Dexter, the owners' cats because as far as the other "guests" are concerned it was an evening without any food or drinking limitations.

Being the oldest didn't intimidate me at all nor did the fact that I had only met three of the guests before. By six in the morning some of us were still having a rather philosophical discussion in English (or was it French?) ...

By the time I got to bed the sun was timidly rising ... that's when I realised I had stepped into the New Year ... without pomp and yet with "pride and circumstance" ...

My latest reading "adventures" ...

I have recently read three very different books, two of which autobiographical - "La Passion suspendue" a collection of Marguerite Duras' answers to  a series of questions prompted by the young Italian journalist Leopoldina Pallota della Torre  and a recollection of travel memoirs by Albert Camus in "Journaux de voyage. "Music of Chance" by Paul Auster was the sole novel (a rather disturbing risk-taking story), which I nevertheless enjoyed.

Books have definitely taken over a significant amount of my so called "free time" over the last days of the year, though  this type of "indoor activity" has been acknowledged as slowing down cognitive decline in "old age". Not being the primary reason as to why I read I somehow consider it to be a good one to encourage me to continue doing so.

"Pour la première fois un horizon à la mesure d'une respiration d'homme, un espace aussi grand que son audace. J'ai toujours été déchiré entre mon appétit des êtres, la vanité de l'agitation et le désir de me rendre égal à ses mères d'oubli, à ces silences démesurés qui sont comme l'enchantement de la mort". In Journaux de voyage

"On pense souvent  que la vie est chronologiquement scandée par des événements: en réalité, on ignore leur portée. C'est la mémoire qui nous en redonne le sens perdu. Et pourtant, tout ce qui reste visible, dicible c'est souvent le superflu, l'apparence, la surface de notre expérience. Le reste demeure à l'intérieur, obscur, fort, au point de ne même plus pouvoir être évoqué. Plus les choses sont intenses, plus il leur devient  difficille d'affleurer dans leur entièrité. (...) C'est l'oubli, le vide, la mémoire véritable qui nous permet de ne pas succomber à l'oppression du souvenir, des souffrances aveuglantes et que, heureusement , on a oubliées." In La Passion suspendue.