Drifting ever closer to the gentle Vienne river, I reached the final destination of my day's journey, the village of Candes-Saint-Martin. At first glance this little village seems like so many others along the river, with its houses seeming to have grown right out of the limestone cliffs and slopes.
But then there is a break in the tightly packed houses, a square opening to uphill side of the road, and a behemoth of a church dwarfing everything around it.
On this spot Saint Martin of Tours, aged around 81 and exhausted from a remarkable life that started in Hungary, passed through a period as a soldier for Rome, then as a monk, and finally the Bishop of Tours, laid himself down to rest and never rose again.
The view from above Candes Saint Martin, across the Vienne to the Loire beyond. The land between the two, where the river Indre sleepily wends its way past Azay-le-Rideau and the Chateau d'Ussé will be my destination for tomorrow.
The view from above Candes Saint Martin, across the Vienne to the Loire beyond. The land between the two, where the river Indre sleepily wends its way past Azay-le-Rideau and the Chateau d'Ussé will be my destination for tomorrow.
What a wonderful journey.
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