A picnic to remember
Living in the French countryside was quite an eye-opener for me. The cultural shock for a city girl born in Mexico City and raised in Chicago was tremendous. La Meilleraye de Bretagne was at that time a charming town with a population of 1,000 surrounded by a beautiful forest and with a beautiful Cistercian monastery that, I think, no longer functions as such.
If it took me some time to adjust, I can honestly say that for the inhabitants of La Meilerraye it was also a shocker to see me disembark amongst them. I don’t think they ever understood how the director of the elementary school married a Mexican.
By that time my French was quite fluent, even though I still had what was politely called an accent charmant, so I was thrilled beyond words when the postmaster informed me that three Brits had arrived to spend a month. Finally, I thought to myself, I would be able to speak something besides French. I don’t remember their names, except that one of them, was called Bob Hope, I kid you not and I shall call the woman Allison.
Afternoon tea quickly became a daily occurrence. During one of them, I happened to mention that my father in law had an oyster farm and that we were welcomed to visit if they were interested.
-That would be lovely. We will take a picnic.
Our destination was Le Passage de Gois, a 4 plus kilometer natural passageway, that can easily be crossed if you respect the safety instructions.
Luc, my father-in-law, was waiting for us at the port of Beauvoir-sur-Mer, where we would embark to visit his oyster beds which were located between Beauvoir and the Isle of Noirmutier.
If you decide to drive to the island you must take the treacherous natural passageway that floods twice daily. This is not the only such causeway in the world, there is one in Korea, three kilometers long, while the Passage du Goi is 4.5 kilometers! This is a natural phenomenon and if you ignore the precautions you can easily find yourself surrounded by thrashing waves as the causeway is completely covered by deep water during high tides. Many a reckless person has found himself scrambling to one of the safety towers if he managed to get out of his floating car!
Luc welcomed us aboard his motorboat and off we went to discover the wild blue sea! A few kilometers out, he stopped the engine and dropped the anchor!
What are we waiting for, someone asked?
For the sea to recede. In fact, it is a good time to have lunch.
True to his French background, Luc took out a baguette, a lovely saucisson, his Opinel pock knife, some butter and proceeded to share his lunch with his assistant. He offered us some baguette but we had a picnic basket.
Right on cue, Allison, opened up a beautiful picnic basket, like the ones they sell at Harrods, took out a lovely tablecloth, beautiful dishes, stems glasses, silver flatware, slices of roast beef, a salad and red wine.
The assistant gaped. My husband I kept our cool, my father in law smiled. After all, don’t people have picnics in a boat while the sea ebbs away every day?
-Isn’t it this just simply grand!
-Indeed.
While we were chatting and eating the sea lowly ebbed away and soon we found ourselves lying on the seabed with barely a trickle of water!
Il faut descendre said, Luc. We got out of the boat and walked among the oyster beds, an unforgettable memory.
Luc explained the process of cultivating oysters, took one of them and opened it with his Opinel knife and offered one to Allison. She put it in her mouth and asked: Now what do I do?
Don’t worry, said Bob Hope it is alive so it will walk down!
Need I describe her face that went from white to a variety of reds?
Luc’s assistant, whispered: she is going to vomit.
Of course not, said Luc. Centuries of English education will not allow her to commit such a faux pas. Mustering her courage and keeping her wits about her and with a stiff upper lip, she managed to swallow the oyster!.
Another one asked Luc. Small revenge for a Norman who still felt the shame of the battle of Agincourt.
No thank you, it was lovely but one is enough.
I don’t know how long we stayed there but soon it was time to board the motorboat. What did we do while we waited for the sea to return? We had a lovely cup of tea, of course.