We spent a big part of last week visiting my French family in Le Mans. We timed the visit to coincide with a visit by one of my uncles from Israel, Zvi, whom I had not seen for several years. I have posted a dedicated gallery of Le Mans elsewhere; this weekly blog is mainly about the people with whom I spent the week, including my relatives.
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We flew to Paris Tuesday morning, rented a car and drove the 200 km south to Le Mans. This is the Concordia Hotel, our home for the next three nights:
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My wife found it strange to see a tyre at the entrance to the hotel, until I explained to her that motorsports is an important part of the identity of Le Mans due to the famous 24-hour race:
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After checking in, I went for a walk around the hotel. As always, I enjoyed seeing wall art like this, right next to the hotel:
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A bank façade embellished with anti-bank stickers:
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Next to the hotel there is a bar where I would sit down for a pint and watch the people waiting for the tram:
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In the evening I walked to my uncle Joseph’s house. In the meantime, my uncle Zvi had arrived from Israel, and I photographed the two old guys–Joseph is 94 and Zvi will be 81 this year:
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Joseph’s daughter Isabelle lives a couple of hundred meters from him, and on Wendesday morning we had breakfast at her house:
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The genius of French food is not in the fancy dishes; it is in the simple things:
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Isabelle with Zvi:
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Isabelle’s son Téo with kitty:
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On Wednesday afternoon my wife hit the main shopping street of Le Mans, near our hotel, while I took another long walk around the city. Le Mans is not big, about 150,000 inhabitants, but the town is quite lively:
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A group of teenagers were making acrobatic jumps on the stairs on a small square:
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Second-hand bookshop:
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Place de la République is a large square in the centre lined with shops, bars and restaurants. In the middle, the city has set up cooling mist dispensers to help people cope with the summer heat:
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Later in the afternoon it was time for a match of pétanque, one of Joseph’s favourite pastimes. We drove to a suburb of Le Mans called Yvré-l’Évêque where there is a proper pétanque field. Earlier this year, Joseph had the honour of the town naming the square after him, recognising his activities over the past many years, speaking about his wartime experiences and using the platform to speak out against all manner of racism and xenophobia:
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I posed with Joseph and Zvi in front of the sign:
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Then the match began. It was me and Zvi against Joseph and his partner Nicole:
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Taking aim:
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Joseph may be 94, but he is by far the best player among us:
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Who is closest?
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We played two matches, won by Joseph and Nicole by lopsided scores of 13-3 and 13-5. At the conclusion, protocol dictates handshakes, even with your partner:
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We then moved on to a local bar for some post-match analysis:
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Thursday morning my wife and I took a little drive to the same suburb where I had played pétanque on Wednesday. We found an idyllic small park on the river L’Huisne:
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In the afternoon, yet again, I explored Le Mans on foot, this time the area around the banks of the Sarthe river. From the old centre I took the stairs down to the riverside park:
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An idyllic scene:
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In the evening, Téo had invited us to a BBQ. His mother Isabelle was out of town, so he was the man of the house on the day (his father died young several years ago, so Isabelle has raised him and his sister Lea by herself):
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The cat was there too, of course:
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Téo at work:
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My cousin Francis lives in Paris but he too came to Le Mans for this mini family reunion:
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Téo relaxing after finishing his cooking duties:
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We were flying home from Paris on Friday. Our flight left Orly around noon, so we had to leave Le Mans around 7:30. Before we departed, I walked to a nearby bakery to buy a baguette for the drive:
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Just before leaving our room at Hotel Concordia I played a bit with the morning light on the balcony:
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