Travel in France - Deux-Sèvres

There’s something rather otherworldly about the Marais Poitevin. The light is different, dappled and ever changing; traffic and everyday noises of the outside world seem to disappear and Mother Nature takes over. This network of waterways in the southwestern corner of the department of Deux-Sèvres is the perfect escape from it all.

Surprisingly, this natural wilderness is man-made, or more specifically, monk-made. The Marais Poitevin stretches from the Atlantic coast just north of La Rochelle and takes in two other departments – Vendée and Charente-Maritime – before it reaches Deux-Sèvres. The 96,000 hectares were previously under water and it wasn’t until the eleventh century that monks began to drain the wetlands in order to cultivate the land.

The ambitious works were still ongoing even under Napoleon, centuries later, but the results have stood the test of time and the fertile land is cultivated to this day. The vast area west of the 7,000 hectares in Deux-Sèvres is known as the Marais Déséché and is divvied up with ruler-straight lines into huge fields that produce cereals and other crops. However, it is the jumble of mini thoroughfares and intersections of the Marais Mouillé, the forgotten bit that spills into Deux-Sèvres, that is so irresistibly charming.

Visit the Marais Mouillé in the summertime and it becomes instantly clear why it is known as La Venise Verte, or Green Venice: where once there was water becomes a vivid green carpet of duckweed. The algae, known as les lentilles, can be so prolific that punting the traditional barques, or flat-bottomed boats, becomes an arduous task.

We chose to visit in springtime however, before the sun had been around long enough to bring the rampant duckweed out of hiding – and before the holiday hordes had descended. After a wettish winter, the small-scale green fields were dazzling enough in their verdure and while most of the waterways were crystal clear, we did spot some shallow ditches where the duckweed had stoically put in an early spring appearance.

The best way to explore the marais is up close and we made sure we covered all angles by hiring bikes or taking to the waters en barque as well as setting off on marked circuits on foot. We started with the bikes as you get to cover more ground – plus it’s my favourite way to explore – and it has to be said it’s perfect cycling territory here, not least because it’s delightfully flat. Pierre-Alain at La Bicyclette Verte entrusted us with two brand new bikes, freshly delivered for the season, and he temptingly talked us through our options.

Seasoned cyclists

There are some 800km of cycle paths throughout the whole of the Marais Poitevin so for more seasoned cyclists, while the terrain may not be challenging, you can simply extend your route and clock up the kilometres. It is possible to cycle to the coast and have your bags transferred along the way but we had to settle for a short boucle, or circuit, to give us a taste of the waiting wetlands.

Cycling along the peaceful paths is great fun and the landscape changes dramatically – from water-bordered fields of pasture to someone’s vegetable plot – as well as subtly, with the wind gently nudging a lone cloud across the sun or the Atlantic breeze shifting slightly in the trees. The bridges vary from ancient planks that continue the path seemlessly over the water so that you don’t even need to break your rhythm, to humpback bridges that require a determined spurt to surmount.

The area is a haven for wildlife and flora and there is something to see whatever the season. Arguably the best way to enjoy the tranquillity is afloat, boating gently along the very lifeblood of the marais, the canals themselves. Clusters of embarcadères line the ‘ports’ of the marais towns and so hiring a boat, either with or without a batelier, is a must.

Having watched one couple ricochet from bank to bank, we sheepishly opted to have someone do the hard work for us and Rodolph made light work of it, steering the unwieldy flat-bottomed vessel with grace and ease. I don’t know whether it was his melodic voice, the smooth flowing water or a post-lunch slump that made the jaunt so soporific but under an afternoon sun, I must confess to a quick forty winks, drifting lazily in and out of consciousness behind my sunglasses.

There is so much to see though that I was soon roused into alert, nature-watch mode. At water level, it is clear to see the arboreal feats of engineering. Regularly pruned ashes perch seemingly precariously along the banks of the canals but it is their strong roots spreading out laterally that knit the whole network together.

The pruning of these waterside trees, known as étêtés, creates a curious silhouette that is echoed throughout the department as lumber-jacking is an important industry; the trunk is solid and wide of girth up until a good human height when it then ends in bulbous nodules. From these sprout the wisps of new slender growth that, given ten years, will in turn be pruned back and used for plywood or for heating a poitevin home.

Herons are commonplace and the canals are home to an abundance of freshwater fish as well as the now protected eel. The area also remains one of the last refuges for the otter in France which is testament to the fine waters. Gliding silently along in a boat gives you the perfect vantage point to appreciate this microclimate and we ticked off species left, right and centre. A particular highlight of the boat trip had to be Rodolph’s pyrotechnics; methane in the riverbed means that with a bit of a dig from his oar and a swift flash of his lighter, we witnessed a seeming miracle of the water being set on fire!

Private gardens

While the waterways hold a captivating charm, the little villages dotted in and around the marais are equally enchanting. The maraichîn houses are as French as you can get with pastel-painted shutters, creamy tufa stone and locally made clay roof tiles. Each tiny hamlet boasts what it grandiosely calls a port and lines of the familiar flat-bottomed boats are tied up in bobbing rows as, along with the beat-up Renault parked out the front, each dwelling also has the standard issue boat out the back.

Parts of the marais are given over to private gardens – a kind of top-of-the-range allotment, if you will – and this can be seen no more clearly than at Le Vanneau. In July, be sure to catch the marché sur l’eau where all the freshly dug local produce from the fertile marais gardens is sold from the barques that become impromptu floating market stalls for the occasion.

Another town that is lovely to lose yourself in is Coulon, known as the capital of La Venise Verte. Not surprisingly, it is classified as a Plus Beau Village which means you’re in for picture-postcard views at every turn. We took a quick visit to the Maison du Marais Mouillé in the town – one of those interesting little French museums that gives a unique insight into a niche topic – and left with a thoroughly good understanding of the marais.

The wetlands though, make up just a small corner of southern Deux-Sèvres and heading east, we were soon in the pays mellois, radiating out from the town of Melle. This historic town is well known for two things: firstly, its strategic siting on one of the main axes of the Route de Compostelle and so it boasts a cluster of impressive churches and secondly, its silver mines.

I recommend following the marked walking tours around the town and its environs known as the Arboretum. Don’t get confused as I did and expect to see an enclosed arboretum; more it seems the routes themselves incorporate one huge arboretum thanks to a tree-planting initiative that is celebrating its twentieth year. Some 1,400 trees were planted in and around the town in 1988 and the signposted walks take in the large majority.

Skirting the outside of Melle, you can’t fail to be bowled over by the Romanesque and statuesque Église St-Hilaire; it’s quite remarkable with its imposing, yet refined, presence and ornate carvings. A tour of the heart of the town takes you past some impressive ramparts and the Église St-Savinien that from 1801 to 1926 was the town prison – graffiti carved into the wooden door by various prisoners bears witness to this.

The town’s silver mines make for an interesting detour and a visit means a tour of the shallow mines as well as free run of the gardens. The gardens are planted as they would have been at the time when silver was mined at Melle, that is to say between the seventh and tenth centuries, and there is much activity in the summer that recreates this period. The museum works closely with the chef of Les Glycines, a hotel and delicious gastronomic restaurant in the middle of the town, to concoct dishes with the bounty of the museum’s garden. Pop in for lunch and you may well find yourself radically re-thinking your own vegetable patch.

The mellois is undisputed goat territory and if you’re partial to a bit of chèvre then you will love it here. Follow the Route du Chabichou, the area’s AOC goat’s cheese, to get your fix and be sure to call in on the brothers Baubeau (below) just outside Lezay. The cottage industry of these artisan bakers churns out some 2,000 tourteaux fromagers per day in the summer and the light-as-air local speciality cake made from a mix of cow’s and goat’s cheese is surprisingly delicious.

Eating a local speciality made from a secret recipe; cycling alongside a tranquil waterway; following a nature walk to discover a town: I didn’t set out to have a green holiday, it simply happened that way. And in Deux-Sèvres, it seems it would be difficult to do otherwise.

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