Andy Smallman

Yesterday, the Boudeaus took us to Île-aux-Moines, an island that is a 90 minute drive plus an hour boat ride from Nantes. Translated, Île-aux-Moines means island of monks. Learn about its history via Wikipedia.

It was an absolutely fantastic day. Although we had to get up at 6:30 and move out of our first AirBnB in Nantes, the early rise only provided us more hours to enjoy the day. The weather was perfect, as was the company, which included Laurent and Sandrine Porcher, the Boudeaus good friends and rapidly becoming ours (savvy blog readers will recall that Melinda and I provided English “lessons” to a girl named Alice, the Porcher’s oldest daughter).

On the island, we rented bikes and rode every trail on it. We stopped several times, once to eat lunch and enjoy a beach, another time to go into the water (Melinda got up to her knees), and other times to just enjoy the spectacular views. For context, the islands in this area of France are very similar in look to the San Juans.

Returning to the mainland at about 7pm, we spent an hour looking for a place for dinner that could seat the 6 of us. Once located, we sat on a balcony overlooking a marina filled with sailboats as the sun slowly set. Dinner was moules frites (look it up), complemented with cold Muscadet.

We then drove back to Nantes, arriving home at about midnight to shower and sleep.

Yes, that was a pretty good day.

It almost feels unfair to be enjoying such a wonderful vacation in France with the tragedy that unfolded in Nice last night. At the same time people were being harmed in Nice, we were standing in a closed road in Nantes watching the fireworks celebration with thousands of others. Families with small children and just people out celebrating their country’s Independence Day. No words give justice to what happened last night, and to what is happening today and forever to the people directly affected.

Earlier yesterday, the Boudeaus took Melinda and me to the beach, a place we’d never been called Batz Sur Mer. We found a cozy sandy place to lay down some towels and soak up the sun. On the walk back to the car I snapped this picture of some children walking with an adult. French kids are so darn cute to Melinda and me, the way the hold hands and talk. They speak French, go figure. I refer to them as puppies.

As we walked from the car, we found a place that was renting paddle boards.

Understandably, it was necessary for me to take a picture of Melinda next to the sign. The person renting the boards was across the street, dozing in a chair. I’m not sure what that says about business but Melinda is trying to point out the person on a board out on the water. That water, by the way, is the Atlantic Ocean.

We’re having dinner tonight at Joel’s new apartment in Nantes. Michele, I’ll be sure to get you several pictures. For those who do not know, Joel is Frederique’s father and a close friend of Dwight and Michele, Melinda’s parents. In fact, the reason we know the Boudeaus is because of the connection between Frederique’s and Melinda’s parents.

Speaking of family, go hug someone close to you today, okay? A little more love and kindness is just what the humanity doctor is prescribing.

For context, check out Awkward Family Photos.

In other news of the day, Christine said she wanted to take Melinda to what I can best describe to American readers as a flea market. Called, Emmaus, it’s about a 30 minute drive from Nantes. Bernard, who is on vacation, did the driving and I tagged along for good measure (I even found a vintage deck of French playing cards for 1 Euro! Snatched those babies up…).

After the flea market, Bernard suggested we drive to nearby Vertou for lunch. The restaurant we found was on the water and the meals we all had were delicious. And by that, I mean really good. After lunch, we went for a walk and Bernard took this picture of Melinda and me. There is another like it, one in which Christine decided she wanted in. Its result elicited a tremendous amount of laughter and then a photo of Bernard and Christine that included Melinda in the background. More laughter, even to the point of tears.

So why am I not including those photos? I need permission…

Happy birthday, Al!

So there are several things about being in Nantes that help me feel like I’m at home. A big one happens to be visiting the huge store called E. Leclerc. There is a Leclerc at the end of Line 2 where Melinda and I did a lot of our grocery shopping during the sabbatical. And there is another near the Boudeau’s house that I am very familiar with. The third is a bit further out, but I would visit upon occasion. Of course, there are others, but these three are the most known by me.

Yesterday, Christine took Melinda and me out to the one at the end of Line 2, what I would refer to as “our” Leclerc. I have to say, it was a slightly sad experience for me. It’s undergoing a huge remodeling and the store did not look at all like it did 6 years ago, at least by my standards. And during the remodel, they are not selling clothes….

Where am I to buy my boxers if not at Leclerc?

Today, I was lucky enough to be at Leclerc #3 and I’m thrilled to say that it has not changed. The annoying repetitive audio commercial is still playing, the overhead lights are still as bright, and I not only found my favorite boxers, I got two sweaters that I was hoping to find.

Melinda, well, she’s just embarrassed that I buy my clothes at the grocery store.