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Just at the edge of town, we stop off at one of the most legendary spots in Les Sables. The crevasse you see here opens from the rocky shore out to the Atlantic. You'll get the other pictures if you know a Vendéen willing to deal. For the moment, the story here is that of a Parisian woman unhappy in her marriage. Quick work was made of her husband, whom she killed and cut up into pieces that fit nicely into her luggage. In the early days of train service to Les Sables, she took full advantage. The suitcase, a bit more burdensome than usual, ended up in the fissure of these rocks, where the waves at high tide are especially fearsome. For some reason, however, they do not forgive murder (these waves are unwavering, I guess, and I say that knowing how my students of good language will take umbrage...). Leaving aside language and umbrage, the luggage with the husband's body did not wash to sea as the widow had hoped. Soon the whole story was discovered, and the widow, in a form of justice so befitting, was then sent to the "widow-maker", here called the "guillotine". |
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This page last updated on 6/9/2004 8:07:54 PM.