Brittany and south of the Loire

29^th September

We found a lovely stone cottage today in the delightful Breton village of Trébeurden on the cote granit-rose; 3 bedrooms and a garage with off road parking, a large fruit orchard and a garden. The hall had a puddle in it and showed off an old hatstand, while the wallpaper was faded woodchip; everything said “deceased estate” to me. €340,000, and you could easily walk to the beach, 

a lovely expanse of sand looking out to granite outcrops and a few small boats. If the weather was a touch warmer, it would be the one, but perhaps you don’t need warmer around here. It is peaceful and quiet yet the main towns have all the conveniences you may need.

OK, I am just sitting on the steps, I haven't actually bought it yet!

 Carol in front of the gate, by the garage....

Further along the coast you come to other villages with Cornish sounding names, Trégastrel, and after all the yachts at Perros-Guirec, Tréguier. The church with a leaning wall and crooked steeple is St Gonery at Plougrescent, which stands a slightly off-kilter guard over sundry picturesque coves. 

There are boats everywhere, plenty of rich yachts, and some old ruins of past boats, mere skeletal remains. The pink granite forms the coastline, and has been carved into rather lovely squared off sculptures in a nearby public park. We posed by the lady in a pink granite dress with her dog, which looked like Dougal from the magic roundabout.

The motorcycle ticked along just fine with two up, although the rear shock was probably bottomed out, and we managed 90kph on the best bits of road, with plenty of twisty bits to swing this way and that. We filled up with petrol for €3 or so, and at the end of the day when we were on reserve, another €6 filled the tank to the brim. It might have been better on a beemer 800, but not much better. 85-90 km today on about £5. That takes some beating. The whole area is a delight, and the coast is lovely with rocks and sandy coves, and everywhere parking is free.

Sundown on the beach with a couple of beers. What could be a better end to the day. And we were almost the only people on the beach, the other couple walking their dog which looked like it couldn’t be bothered with the walk.

The French sell camping gas at all the petrol stations here, and the Aires are full of vans overnight. Ours is directly opposite the beach.

30/09/2013

We drove into Trégastel this morning to do our laundry; when we got into town the main road was closed as there was a street market underway. Taking the detour left we found parking next to a derelict house with a rotten dooway overhang which just cleared the van. Checking we were not obstructing the road, we did a quick recce of the market, and had to go into the information centre as I could not find the Laundromat. It turns out I had driven past it, with my eyes on the “route barre” sign.

There was a bank of standard 5kg washers and a super-sized 15kg washer as well as 4 large dryers, and a central machine that took coins and controlled the lot. €3.90 for a washer which took 45 minutes and that allowed us time to meander around the market. A lot of cashmere sweaters, fleeces, underwear and socks to prepare the French shopper for winter weather, and some good fruit and veg. We bought fruit and veg and felt the cashmere for quality. Back into the Laundromat to do drying which was very fast, two sessions of eight minutes and the laundry was toasty warm and dry. 

We bought a serving of hot sausage, lardons and potatoes for €16 and went to eat lunch on the beach front, where the tide was out, and boats left on the sand. The seagulls accepted our grisly bits, and we had enough left overs for supper.

We travelled to Carnac -

1/10/2013

Our first disagreement today; Carol wanted to see the large yachts in the harbour, and I wanted to leave and get further south for better weather. It was overcast and threatening to rain. I offered a motorbike or cycle ride to the harbour, but Carol wanted us to drive down. Clearly she thought we would get wet. I suggested that she might drive since I had had my fill of “turn sharp right” commands from the satnav lady, which incidentally has no setting for 7m long vehicles with a height clearance of 3m.

In the end we set off on our way, and the weather, and our moods brightened south of the Loire. We made our way to Ile d’Oléron just off Rochefort, where we found a nice municipal campsite next to the chateau, which has electricity and trees and an ablution block. It is rather lovely here, although they have had rain and some of the sites were muddy. We took a site away from the puddles and near the main road. Rather have a little traffic noise than a vehicle stuck in the mud.

It’s great to have electricity again. Without a cable plugged in we have to be frugal with the lights and the TV does not work. We watched Woody Allen in Manhatten, with Diane Keaton, and a youthful Meryl Streep. Allen playing a neurotic self obsessed writer with a partner half his age, justifying his unfaithfulness and manipulating everyone he can. Actually he was just playing himself. Didn’t he leave Mia Farrow and live with his adopted daughter as his partner? Clearly I am not in love with Allen as much as he is himself. Anyway the Manhatten montages were beautiful and elegantly composed, as was the music.

 Look - shopping by bicycle!

Here is my failing to spot this is a no through road, and Carol is setting me straight

 Oyster processing at ile d'Oleron

2/10/2013

I had thought that ile d’Oléron might be a pretty island, although where the thought came from, I don’t know. Anyway it isn’t. As Harare has Hatfield, and Reading has Whitley Wood, both of which have the subtle hint of being rural, this part of France has its own smelly armpit of a place. Here they farm oysters, or Huître. Much as we really don’t want to know how they farm salmon in Scotland, you probably don’t want to know where your oysters come from. Maybe you think they spend their lives happily in the tidal belt of the sea, with seagulls flying overhead and little fishing boats bobbing around. Or perhaps like me the image is the oyster gatherers of Cancale, which is a pretty part of Brittany.

Here they dredge them out of the sea and load them by conveyor belt into little plastic mesh nets which have their ends closed and they are let down into the stinking tidal pools which are scattered around the island everywhere, breeding mosquitoes. These fetid pools are surrounded by ditches, and if the Brits are ever looking for a foreign place to hold the world bog-snorkelling championships they should look no further.

We went for a cycle around the coast and on to the next town. Thinking we could get back along the main road, we were disheartened by the map, which clearly shows cyclists have no route here. By now we had decided that bicycle saddles seriously need to be redesigned for greater comfort, and my navigation skills were impaired when faced with a clear dead end sign. This road, the “grande rue” lead only to more oyster pools and a couple of ramshackle caravans. Anyway at least there were no serious hills and we eventually got back for a hot shower and a cold beer.

3rd-4th October

We have gone back up the coast to ile de Ré which is much much nicer. We are camped up at the north of the island and have just been exploring by motorbike and found the local tourism office has wi-fi so we are posting our blog, and reading e-mails here. The villages are fab, and so pretty.

Much love, James (Dad) and Carol (Mum)