2025 – Roëzé-sur-Sarthe (France)

After our successful trip to visit Ali and Pete in Roëzé-sur-Sarthe last year (here), we decided to return in the summer of 2025, but opted to try the Channel Tunnel (Le Shuttle) option, rather than the Newhaven – Dieppe ferry.

Our shuttle through the Channel Tunnel was booked for eight fifty on Thursday morning but, having fallen foul of problems at the Dartford Crossing on previous trips, I was determined that we would leave with plenty of time to spare. We set an early alarm, fed the cats, and headed off just after five thirty. The Dartford Crossing was clear, we stopped at the Medway services for a McDonald’s breakfast and arrived at the Folkestone terminal at about seven thirty.

The shuttle left Folkestone on time, and arrived in Calais on time at about ten thirty local time, we debarked swiftly – so much easier than the ferry at Dieppe –  and were on the road towards Rouen. This time I planned on doing to do at least some of the driving in France, actually I drove the whole way, my first significant drive in Europe for probably twenty years. .

We stopped briefly a couple of times, partly to connect my phone which was reluctant to connect data, but we prevailed, continued down and arrived at Ali & Pete’s by three thirty.

We sat in the garden, catching up and drinking a selection of beers, wines and so on under the trees.

Pete fired up the barbie and we enjoyed Tuna steaks and salad,  finally crashing out just after eleven.

Friday dawned bright and sunny, Ali W whizzed into the local village for breakfast bits – croissants, baguettes and so on – then, after breakfast we headed over to the local town of Malicorne for their local market… which was a disappointment, there was only a few stalls, two of which were attempting to sell overripe vegetables. From there we visited a local mill – one of only five pigment mills in the country, we learned – and Ali W bought some lovely earrings from the gift shop.

By now it was getting close to midday and while we’d intended to visit the local museum, it was  was closed until two, so we ambled back to the car and then home. The afternoon and evening were spent chilling under the trees; Pete and Ali W had a dip in their hot tub, although later the water turned unpleasant shades of yellow and green. Their house is fed with water from a well on their patio, but a large hit of chlorine ‘shocked’ the water and by Saturday morning it was clear.

In the evening we headed into Le Mans, parking near the beautiful cathedral, replete with magnificent flying butresses. We wandered round the cathedral and then enjoyed some cocktails in a beautiful ‘belle epoque’ cocktail bar overlooking one of the old town squares.

From there it was only a hundred yards or so to the restaurant that Ali W had booked for dinner, in the aforementioned square, opposite the Town Hall. Ali had Salmon Tartare as a starter with a Beef Carpaccio salad for her main course, finishing off with Chocolate mousse and blackcurrant ice cream. I had a Tomato and Burrata starter, Cheeseburger main (strangely the cheese sauce was on top of the bun, no picking up and troughing here!), and Panacotta dessert with a Mango salsa. All were delicious.

After dinner we strolled into a more modern part of Le Mans where Pete had found a microbrewery; I enjoyed a very nice pint of ‘French IPA’, before we wandered back to the car and then home.

On Saturday, after breakfast, we hit the local supermarket, filled the car (£1.50 per litre (compared to £1.30 at home) – ouch!) and then stocked up on French beers and preserves. Pete’s son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren arrived at the house at lunchtime, the youngsters ran around the grounds terrorising the chickens and then they all took a dip in the hot tub. It was a scorching hot day, hitting thirty five degrees.

Lunch was chicken kebabs (bought from the aforementioned supermarket) with a selection of salads.

There was a music fiesta in the local village, but we settled in enjoying the gardens, music played on our phones through Pete’s multi-function mobility scooter, and drank a selection of French wines and beers until around midnight.

Sunday dawned a little cooler, the two Ali’s headed off to a nearby swimming lake while Pete and I took a pile of empty bottles over to the local recycling centre before dashing over to the local ‘Netto’ supermarket (the larger supermarkets are closed on Sundays) for some essentials. Back home I sat among the trees and read my book – accompanied by the chickens – while Pete pottered, doing some DIY. They’re continuing to improve and decorate the house, but there’s always something to be done.

The ladies returned mid-afternoon and we all headed down to the nearby river (the Sarthe) where they hire out electric cruisers. We all piled on one of the boats and pootled down the river to the nearby village of Suze, and then back again.

Then a barbecue of Duck brochettes with still more delightful side salads and a final evening chilling under the trees; then an earlier night than previous. Monday was to be a long day.

We’d set an early alarm call for Monday morning and were dressed swiftly. I packed the car and we bade our farewells to Ali and Pete who had, once again, been excellent hosts. We hit the road at eight, Ali driving, and made our way back to Calais. We drove through a couple of showers, but successfully navigated Rouen (always a lottery) and arrived at Calais by twelve-thirty. Our shuttle wasn’t scheduled until three-fifty so we headed into the Cite Europe shopping centre for a wander round Carrefour, a sandwich and drink, then over to the Eurotunnel complex – via a convoluted route courtesy of a confused Sat-Nav system.

We were allocated a space on a slightly earlier train, but then learned that at the trains were suffering delays. We finally departed just after four, and arrived back in Folkestone at three forty five – timezones and all that.

While Ali had driven the French leg of the return, I drove the final leg home. Which was somewhat challenging, there were reports of closures and delays on both the M25 and A13. Thankfully the A13 closure had cleared by the time we reached it, and we arrived home two hours after arriving into Folkestone.

It had been a long journey home, but we’d enjoyed a relaxing weekend in good company, with wonderful weather, and delicious food.