31/07/2016, LA ROCHELLE.

I love the old, the weathered,the unpolished lived in buildings that hide the centuries of joy and sorrow. There are enough of old lived in buildings in La Rochelle to fill another city, row after row,a street after street of scruffy,dirty houses,peeling paint covering the pavements. The creaky rusty Ferris wheel,the children terrified,holding onto the seats for dear life. There are two towers facing each other. The Tower of St.Nicholas dates from the 14th century. The Tower of the Chain-so called because each night a chain used to be strung between them to prevent entry and exit of ships standing opposite. We paid 6 euro each adult to see inside the unbearably hot Tower of the Chain,people fainting,unable to breathe,no ventilation of any kind. Outside the entrance a wobbly fence separating the people from bags of dirt piled up in the corner, a large broom hanging over it. They must have been waiting for a witch to fly in to dispose of the rubbish. So utterly disgusting. So completely off putting. Fishing village a 1000 years ago,it should have stayed a fishing village,then the ugliness of this forlorn unloved town would not have been inflicted upon us. We sat down to some cold drinks and coffee. Barely drinkable black mess,indifferent service. Quite by accident we came across a lovely shop with regional produce,we bought sweets, chocolates, biscuits and a joy to look at bottle filled with red liquid. We couldn't quite make out what it was,but when we opened it back in London we said - the French vine makers,we salute you.To the inhabitants of La Rochelle I say- please clean up this unholy mess of yours,paint the scruffy houses you live in, sweep the dirty streets.And the safety officers - how can you allow the Ferris Wheel to operate and take money from people when it should have been condemned years ago.It really is a disgrace.