We hadn't all been on holiday together since the s, when our Volkswagen Jetta was a regular fixture on the Irish Ferries boat to France as soon as school finished. And sometimes before then, if there was a particularly good deal going. It was time to go back to la belle France en bande, although sadly without our mother, who had marshalled the sheets, towels, stove and picnic gear and masterminded the appearance of full meals for six, on ferry decks, roadside laybys, windswept Brittany beaches and gite kitchens.
Back then we picked a place to stay from a green directory with a little yellow house on the front, sent off a bank draft and hoped for the best. This time we clicked on Ryanair and Airbnb, still hoping for the best. The "bande" was my three sisters and me, and our year-old Dad, who turned out to be the best companion one could have on a long weekend abroad. We picked La Rochelle because it had an airport close to town and flights at civilised hours.
It was the perfect choice. Our house was a small villa about 10 minutes from the sea, with a pretty front garden and another small courtyard, which was ideal for breakfast. When we arrived a little early, there was no one to meet us so we stood in the street with our bags debating what to do.
We sat in the sun and toasted our adventure. For a sieste. In the evening we walked to the Vieux Port through a park, skirting the sea, passing the town beach at La Concurrence. Starlets pouted as they posed for photographs on the quayside, and champagne bottles popped in marquees celebrating a French television festival taking place in town. The old port was buzzing, and party boats entered the inner harbour through the small gap between the Tour St Nicolas and the Tour de La Chaine at the defensive entrance to the city.
La Rochelle is midway down the Atlantic coast and has a rich history. A Huguenot outpost in Catholic France, it fell foul of Cardinal Richelieu and most of its walls were razed during a great siege, leaving only the towers behind. This time we managed not to eat all the bread. Back then a restaurant meal was one of the highlights of the holiday and a rare treat.
