Easing into Esnandes

When we left La Rochelle after lunch, we decided to drive along the coast to get back to the gîte, which was more inland than coastal. Walking around in La Rochelle with Natasha on the leash hadn't been easy. We didn't go into the old city, which is made up of narrow streets that would be crowded with people on a sunny day, making it even more difficult with a dog. We wanted to see the real coastline, so we drove little roads north through the town of Esnandes, headed toward the bigger town of Luçon.

At Esnandes [ay-nawnd], Walt saw on the map that there was a road that ran straight west from the town and led to what might be a beach. We didn't know what to expect the coastline to look like. The weather was nice, and we imagined a walk on a strand of sand, with maybe some surf. The photo above shows where we ended up: on a sort of cliff overlooking what we didn't know then was the shallow body of water called the Baie d'Aiguillon.

The high ground was good because it gave us long views out over the bay, which at low tide was actually more of a wide mudflat rather than an expanse of pretty blue water. There were birds feeding on the mudflat, but there's weren't many boats and there certainly weren't any crowds. And no beach! Oh well.

Esnandes itself is a small town (pop. 2,000) on low flat land where the houses are also low and small. The Michelin Guide describes them as humbles maisons basses, chaulées ("modest low-roofed, whitewashed houses"), and says the people who live there are gens de mer — people who work on or around the water —and make their living from oysters and mussels. It was picturesque in its own way, but we didn't stop to take pictures. I kind of liked it, and it felt (and smelled) familiar.