The A - Z of My Favourite Travel Destinations — Nantua

An accidental discovery

Nantes is my favourite French city. I spent a total of a couple of months living there with my daughter in 2010, 2011 and 2012. I loved everything about it. The people, the history, the architecture, the culture, the river, tout!

But here I want to tell you about Nantua. Now if you haven’t heard of Nantes, you definitely won’t have heard of Nantua.

Just to give you an idea of its position, Nantua is marked by the red pin.

Nantua is a village in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region in Eastern France. Its population is approximately 3,500. The commune of Nantua includes the glacial Lac de Nantua.

The first visit

I say it was an accidental discovery because Keeley didn’t want to drive back to Paris via Valloria and San Remo where I had booked two nights’ accommodation for 19–20 December 2014.

“Why are we going all that way? Why can’t we go straight through the Mont Blanc tunnel?”

“Because I want to see the painted doors of Valloria.”

“So I’m driving an extra 8 hours so you can see some fuckin’ doors?”

She had a point. She was doing all the driving. I said if she could find somewhere to stay I’d cancel the San Remo booking.

She found a farmhouse B&B in the middle of nowhere. The area was called Chevillard. We arrived at our lovely French farm B&B, where we were welcomed by Patricia, our hostess for the next 2 days, and when I say welcomed, I really mean it. We were greeted with a kiss on both cheeks and immediately felt comfortable. She spoke no English — why would she need to out here in the middle of the French countryside — so I had to use my halting, very bad, word-by-word French, but she was so patient with me, and we had some lovely conversations. The conversation was so slow Keeley was picking it up too.

We had been driving all day with nothing to eat, so we thought we’d go to dinner. Patricia gave us two business cards so we headed to the closest one in the closest village, Nantua. Wouldn’t you know it? Of course, it was closed — it is Monday! We parked in their carpark and wandered down the street until we found a bistro open. The meal was so delicious we returned the following day for lunch!

We could see the lights reflecting in the lake as we walked back to our car and decided we’d come back tomorrow to see the lake in the daylight. Back to La Haie Fleurie for a good night’s sleep.

The next day, we headed back to Nantua, parked the car and walked along the lake. We found the memorial to the 44 children who were captured by the SS in World War 2 and sent to concentration camps. After learning the story, Keeley wanted to visit the Museum of the Resistance and Deportation. And then back to our favourite bistro for lunch.

After lunch, we called into the Intermarché to stock up on a few essentials — one of which was a bottle of red to share with Patricia — and a beautiful poinsettia in a pot as a thank-you for Patricia. She had outdone her duties as a B&B hostess. She was touched by our gift, and put it in pride of place in the window of her kitchen. We drank the red and chatted — when I say chatted, I mean spoke word-by-word. She spoke slowly so I could understand and I spoke slowly because that’s all I could do!

Dinner tonight was breakfast cereal for me, and a cup of noodles for Keeley. We were not very hungry after that delicious lunch!

The return visit

I loved Nantua so much that I returned the next year for Christmas — in a campervan.

My travelling companion was awake at 3 am and wanted to get on the road as we had an almost 400-kilometre trek from Colmar to Nantua. We skipped breakfast and were on the road by 5.

It was great travelling in the early morning; very little traffic, and a beautiful sunrise. When the sky lightened, we stopped at a truck stop for ham and cheese bagels, which I cooked in the frypan. We were about halfway there. I was pleased we had started to get going early, but boy, was I tired! 16 kilometres out of Nantua, my travelling companion could drive no further and pulled over to close his eyes for 10 minutes. He was instantly asleep, so I thought I’d take advantage of our stationary position to get out of my sleep suit, have a shower and get into some clothes.

On arrival in Nantua, we encountered a cold wind blowing off the lake but it was still warm and sunny. We parked the van and walked over to Le Bistrot to make a booking for dinner, but were told “no dinner tonight, it’s Christmas Eve” so sat down and had lunch instead!

My memories of the meals I had eaten here the previous December came rushing back to me and I was pleased to notice the menu hadn’t changed.

After another delicious lunch, we walked around the entire village looking for the Lidl supermarket to buy some water and milk, but we gave up, exhausted, and returned to the camper and drove to find it. It was right at the very edge of the village.

We found a parking spot right on the lake and immediately fell asleep. I was awakened two and a half hours later by the sound of cars driving past, so we decided to move to a more secluded location, around the other side of Lac Nantua overlooking the village lights reflecting on the surface of the lake, which usually freezes in winter. No chance of that happening tonight. It’s 8 pm and 10C outside; a warm, cosy 20C inside our camper. It’s Christmas Eve here and we’ve talked about attending midnight mass, but I think we’ll be doing it in our sleep.

The plan was to do nothing on Christmas Day; no driving, no navigating, no sightseeing, just relaxing and taking in the view. But, by 10 am, I had itchy feet and suggested we mosey a little further south. “It’s Christmas Day so there won’t be much traffic on the roads.” Famous last words! So off we set in a southerly direction to nowhere in particular.

That’s the beauty of having your home with you. No packing up, no finding a place to eat or sleep — just stop when you are tired. The rest stops or “aires” in France or “stellplatz” in Germany are perfect stopping places.

Have you had a motorhome (campervan) holiday in Europe? On this trip, we travelled from Germany, through France, Spain and Portugal and back to Germany in a 4-berth campervan. We had already travelled around Ireland for two weeks in a much bigger motorhome. I’ve been lucky enough to travel in Australia and New Zealand with my family in a huge 6-berth motorhome. 

Janin Lyndovsky discovered the joys of motorhome travel in her solo journey of Canada. Katie Michaelson and I have talked about this but I’m not sure that we’re brave enough — or wealthy enough — to do it on our own.