LET’S start with the elephant. What a beauty it is, giant and gentle, its feet rising and falling with delicate hugeness. Here it pauses to spray water, now it moves again, untroubled by the weight of its human cargo.
This elephant works tirelessly and without apparent reward, but there is no need to phone the animal rights lobby. For this mammoth creature was made by man, or two men in particular, Francois Delaroziete and Pierre Orefice, and since 2007 it has become a symbol of the city of Nantes.
In a typical piece of French big thinking, the Great Elephant has helped to replace a lost industry, the shipbuilding that sustained a city built in part on the slave trade, like Liverpool or Bristol. Now the once-idle shipyards produce huge pieces of public art that draw locals and tourists alike to see Les Machines de l’Ille.
The elephant is 12 metres high and eight wide, weighs 50 tonnes, is made of American tulip and its hydraulic joints are eased by four tonnes of oil, while a diesel engine provides the power to let it carry passengers.
The elephant is not alone, for the machine workshop where it was born is also working on other creations. Many are weird and wonderful sea creatures, such as the deep-sea lantern fish, the giant crab or the reverse propulsion squid, which will one day form part of a giant three-tiered Marine Worlds Carousel.
For now, the visitor can watch these creatures being made, and ride those that are complete, pushing and pulling levers, or cranking handles, to operate their metal fins and fangs, or to make their scaly bodies rise and fall.
What great-hearted mad fun this place is, and a perfect reason to visit this city which lies 30 or 40 minutes from the Atlantic coast in the Loire-Atlantique region, with its enjoyably cheesy slogan, “Oh La-La Loire Atlantique”.
Nantes has a lot going for it, from the Bouffay quarter round the restored Castle of the Dukes Of Brittany to the 18th century Feydeau quarter all the way across the water to Trentemoult, with its narrow streets and bright fishermen’s cottages (and top spot for lunch at La Civelle, overlooking the wide river).
There are two cathedrals too, Saint Pierre and Saint Paul, and traffic has been banished from much of the centre, making walking a pleasure. Should you wish to give your feet a rest, public transport is first rate, thanks to the cheap and efficient tramways.
The shopping is good, and don’t miss the Passage Pommeraye, an arcade opened in 1843 and standing on three levels. There are galleries and museums aplenty, including one that honours one of the city’s great sons, the writer Jules Verne.
Another example of industrial heritage turning to fun is the LU Tower, now an arts centre but for years where Lefevre-Utile made their biscuits. The factory has moved out of town and the bars and performers have taken over.
And don’t forget the eating, hard to do in Nantes, as in much of France. La Cigale brasserie is the place to be, thanks to the surroundings as much as the very good food. Opened in 1895, this is a mini Art Nouveau palace, tiled in green and gold, with stained glass to match. We ate breakfast and there can’t be many more civilised or diet-destroying ways to start the day, plied with croissants, brioche, toast and the best coffee; the evening meals, as I discovered on a previous visit, are just as satisfying. And the setting is unbeatable.
While in Nantes, we also ate afloat on the Bateaux Nantais, which was fun and the food was perfectly fine, and firmly on dry land at Le Square, where the eating was totally tremendous (snail ravioli, anyone? I dodged that one, but a companion enjoyed his starter very much).
Our short stay also included a night on the coast at La Baule, much loved by Brits in the past, and in part defined by two wars. This beach resort spread along a wide sandy crescent of bay was born at the end of the 19th century, greatly developed in the approach to the First World War, when many of its architecturally flamboyant villas were built, and was much damaged during the Second World War, when the place was occupied and bombed.
The June weather didn’t oblige during our stay, the skies were grey, the sea greyer still, but on a sunny day this is the place to saunter and swim, or to eat in one of the restaurants on the beach. I once ate fish there while the sun slipped flaming into the sea, and you can’t beat that.
The front at La Baule is packed with buildings and this is a place for those who prefer a bit of buzz to peace and quiet.
Any trip should include the market, one of those French wonders that can still shame almost any in Britain. The fish stalls twinkled with catches so fresh the sea hadn’t dried on them yet; the fruit and vegetables lined up in luscious regimentation; and the bread and cakes did their doughy, crispy sweet thing like nothing else.
A short drive out of La Baule takes you to the medieval city of Guérande, well worth a couple of enchanting hours. After a heavy lunch of crepes, not for those faint of stomach, eased down with local cider, we drove out to the salt marshes of Guérande, a short distance away.
Here, at the workers’ cooperative cum salt museum, we were given a tour and talk by one of the ‘paludiers’, or salt workers, a woman of a certain age with a face flecked with the outdoors, her greying hair piled up, her eyes salty bright with the details of the harvest.
The salt is gathered via a latticework of canals that channel the sea water into segmented pools, where it evaporates in the sun and wind, and, when the time is right, is harvested using traditional wooden rakes that are pulled across the surface, gathering up the salty sludge which becomes a condiment good cooks cherish.
All of this is within easy reach, thanks to Leeds Bradford International Airport, which gets you to Nantes in an hour (but do watch out for the slightly officious customs people and their eager throwing away of proscribed liquids).
And whatever you do, make time for the giant elephant of Nantes.
• Julian Cole flew from Leeds Bradford International Airport with Ryanair. He stayed at the Hotel Mercure La Baule Majestic (make sure to visit the Art Deco sports bar, with its array of cricket paintings) and the Hotel Pommeraye in Nantes (an enjoyably eccentric place bang in the heart of the city).
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here