Focus on Saumur, 2010
Hands in pockets, I sauntered along the Quai Mayaud towards the centre of town. On my right flowed the Loire, the muddy waters meandering lazily along between the river’s ceaselessly shifting sandbanks, to be joined just downstream by those of the Thouet, yet another tributary emptying into Europe’s greatest untamed river. High on the hill to my left, behind the rooftops, the famous château, keeping its eternal watch over the town. Behind me was my hotel, which I had just left; the Anne d’Anjou certainly wasn’t the cheapest roof-over-my-head I could have chosen, but despite my dwindling finances – in fact, make that non-existent finances, as the bank balance was permanently negative in those heady student days – I figured I deserved a treat. Later on, I would be dining in the hotel’s restaurant Les Ménestrels, an evening where I would single-handedly bring down the average age of the clientele by at least 20 years. Surrounded by seemingly wealthy late-middle-aged couples of British origin, I found myself viewed with suspicion. “I suspect he’s a journalist“, I heard one lady whisper, the final word layered with obvious disdain. Fortunately, the dining experience rose above the frostiness of my neighbours; it would a great meal.
As I continued my stroll into the town I discovered, upon turning a corner, a Maison du Vin, the display window festooned with bottles. Taking a perch at the tasting bar inside I chose a few wines to taste, names largely unfamiliar to me. The experience was thrilling; bright and vibrant raspberry fruit exploded on my palate. My tasting vocabulary at the time was poor, but looking back (yes, through rose-tinted spectacles I admit) the wines had vivacity and freshness, elegance rather than deep substance, and were endowed with deliciously crisp acidity. This was something new!
It was the summer of 1993, and I had just discovered Saumur.
Saumur: the Town and Château
Perhaps surprisingly that was the only time I have stayed within Saumur itself; although I have returned many times I have always laid my head outside of the city, either camping upriver at L’Etang de la Brèche, or in rented properties in the countryside to the north, amongst the orchards, vistas of sunflowers and the regimented rows of trees that characterise small-scale French forestry. Approaching Saumur from this direction always used to confuse me; whichever of the two almost-parallel routes you take into Saumur you will find yourself seemingly passing over two rivers before reaching the town proper. This illusion is caused by the Ile d’Offard, a large built-up island lying within the centre of the Loire. Having crossed the first bridge it is tempting to think that the Loire is behind you, but in fact you are only halfway across.
