It is possible I suppose, to go on holiday without going near water, just as it is possible to go to Monkton and not row: I just would not want to do it. How many of us have thought, as we looked across the Valley, just what a privilege it is to be there?
Some like their water civilised, as in Venice, where the green colour is unique and yet so famous that when you see it you have a feeling of being in one of the myriad postcards, jigsaws or advertisements with their obligatory gondola. Here even the floods are courteous as the acqua alta rises with the diplomatic silence of a good butler, and recedes almost apologetically, always impeccably to time.
How many Monktonians who row at Nantes (lucky people!) stop to think about what is sliding under the boat? They of course are on the still and relatively civilised water of the Erdre. The Loire is not like that. It is a big beast. As you go up the valley from Nantes you cannot escape its influence. Let us go, say, to Saumur. You look at the château, town houses, bridges - white stone gleaming in the sunshine. The creamy chalk tuffeau is even more luminous than the honey-gold of Bath, but there is a similar air of civilised, old money. (There is another similarity: what is the French equivalent of Queen Anne front/Mary-Ann back? You'll find it here!). There is another ironic parallel: at the time French prisoners of war were cutting the stone for the Dundas Aqueduct, English prisoners were hauling earth for the levée which attempts to tame this monster river. For it is a monster, and is never to be under-estimated. It seems to sleep, sprawled in tawny untidiness between its sandbanks and islets like a dozing lion. You might think you could almost paddle across: until you look more carefully. Not for nothing is swimming strictly forbidden. Even in late summer the current is fast and treacherous. The lion sleeps with one eye open. As for January: the turbid eddies round the aqueduct when our river is too high for rowing are thought-provoking. To stand on the many-arched bridge at Saumur and look down is to watch truly awesome power. Even in Spring a sudden rise in the water can playfully swamp cars on the riverside in the time it takes to do a little shopping.
Yet this power has its benign side. Any wine-tasting starts with acknowledgements of the sediments laid down by the prehistoric river, which enable the locals today to argue the merits of the reds of St. Nicholas, Bourgueil, Chinon or Saumur. The levée is not just our protector, it provides spectacular views as you drive along. It is tempting to dawdle, but if you do, some aggressive tailgating will remind you that some people just want to get home. If you live in a place you can sometimes forget to appreciate it.
Then there is the benefit of the flood-plain. The alleged risk area is measured by width not height, so even the rearing mound of the château is technically a flood-zone. We are grateful to the nameless medievals who built our house on a raised bank of gravel in the days when much of today's farmland was marsh. A ten-metre flood (and what would that do to the Thames Estuary?) would get to our doorsteps, but until then the zone d'innondation is in practice a limit on new building. A neighbour remarked smugly that it is like being in a National Park. It certainly has the wildlife for it. If there were a Michelin guide for birds, the banks of the Loire would definitely feature. I thought I would miss the buzzards that circle and mew over Monkton, but their French cousins look and sound much the same - and it is hard to grudge the kingfishers and herons a share of our fish.
Finally, there are the legacies of all the past great Frenchmen. There is so much history here. But I'll be in trouble with JMB if I even think of starting on that......
Bill Hanna coached the second eight for several years, in the 1980's. He has now moved to France to a delightful spot the few kilometres from Saumur (about an hour and a half from Nantes), where he and Fiona have set up business running a small group of gîtes. They would be delighted to hear from you if you want a quiet break in rural France. See their website www.lechapy.com which includes some excellent pictures of the gites and the surrounding area. Current Monktonians may be interested to note that WOH is offering revision coaching during the Christmas and Easter holidays.