17th August2016
Port Joinville
We have been told many things about Isle d’Yeu by both English and French sailors: firstly that it is superb and secondly that it is impossible to get a berth in the marina in August. So, with that in mind we planned a trip that went from our anchorage on Noirmoutier to call firstly at Isle d’Yeu and continue on to Les Sables de l’Onne on the assumption that Isle d’Yeu would be full. This meant an early start and a 25mile sail against the tide (so that it would be in our favour on the trip to Les Sables). The French, by and large , are pretty good sailors (some might even say the best) and the thought that you could sail without fully optimising the wind and tide is a little alien to them. Consequently, we were the first boat to arrive at Port Joinville, Isle d’Yeu and this, coupled with the mass exodus following the bank holiday, meant we had no difficulty finding a berth. By good luck and a little planning we had achieved the impossible.

Port Joinville is a chaos of cars, bikes, day trippers and tourists and very charming.

In celebration of arrival we booked a table at the most expensive restaurant in town. I had a shower and shave and put on a clean shirt; Susan looked as gorgeous as ever and out we went. Ten minutes after arriving we finally managed to order some aperitifs (kir, of course) but after a further twenty minutes wait no drinks had arrived, no orders placed and we were getting annoyed. Finally we left the restaurant after my pidgin French attempts to explain their rather poor service – it’s at times like this you really need better French than I or Sue has. I’m sure the restaurant staff and other diners thought we were mad but at their prices we expect to be treated a little better. So we wandered around town, without a reservation, and stumbled into a little tapas bar. It was the coolest place. Situated in a courtyard behind a bar with a scattering of tables and good music. Only served charcuterie, smoked fish, cheese and oysters (whatever happens at Assumption it involves eating all the oysters, so they were off) and much wine. The clientele were a study in expensive casual and we had a great time.

The following day we decided to explore the island by bike. Isle d’Yeu is tiny – only 11km x 4km and has cycle and walking paths around the edge and criss crossing the island. We hired two bikes (before the invention of carbon fibre and aluminium) and set off across and around the island. When cycling in England Susan is always 2 miles ahead of me but this time it was impossible if we were both to stay on the same island.
The island has a Mediterranean architectural feel with great beaches, interesting towns, and busy cycle tracks. Hardly any cars and everybody cycles everywhere.
We went to the vieux chateau which I’m sure is the castle from the L’isle noire (Tintin) but that’s not mentioned anywhere perhaps because Herge wasn’t French or because I’m wrong. Nonetheless a very interesting tour at a very reasonable 1€50. That night we went to a simple fish restaurant and amongst other things had some fabulous rillettes du thon as we sheltered from the first rain we have seen since we rounded the top corner of France.

We now understand why the French love Isle d’Yeu