France – When the Cat's Away…

June 10, 2024June 11, 2024

11-22 May 2024: Brittany on two wheels (Part two)

Author: Mr & Mrs A

Friday 17 May – Josselin to Redon (75 km)

Author: Mrs A

It won’t surprise you to learn that the trend of showery weather continued after we departed Josselin. Lunch supplies were sourced from the supermarket before we left – today was going to be quite a long ride, with few options of places to stop.

The next downpour is approaching – our path east followed the left hand side of the River Oust.

Fun fact: Brittany is considered to be a Celtic Nation, along with Wales, Cornwall, Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man – In the UK there are many rivers known as the River Ouse – a derivative of
the Celtic word ‘Usa’, from *udso-, which simply means ‘water’. ‘River Ouse’ therefore means ‘River Water’. It may be that the Oust has similar origins.

This part of the river is rather picturesque, lined with trees and a perfectly smooth surface that would put British roads to shame, just fabulous riding country.

A vibrant grey, black and yellow Grey Wagtail stops for a rest from catching insects over the water

And so our meditation continued, taking us back into the rhythm of our journey, always listening, watching for splashes, aromas of the pungent decaying leaves from last autumn’s fall tingling the nostrils, our senses constantly alert in the absence of the multitude of distractions in everyday life. The definition of a holiday.

Yes that is a boat way in the distance – the first one we have spotted on our travels. Much of the Nantes-Brest canal has not been navigable – many of the bridges were destroyed during WWII and rebuilt quickly, not allowing space for boats to pass underneath

…and another first – a Mute Swan – in the UK they are plentiful along the waterways, but here we have travelled many kilometres before seeing this, our first one in France!

Our route was diverted due to maintenance along the towpath, which added a few extra kilometres, taking us off along quiet country lanes, past sleepy farms and fields of flowers.

The bees love this mauve tansy-leaf phacelia – this is planted as a green manure to regenerate the soil. At the end of the season it will be ploughed back into the field, enriching it with nitrogen.

Our journey ended in the town of Redon, a junction point of the Oust River, which we were following, and the Vilaine, which winds north to Rennes and from there flows out into the Atlantic Ocean at Pénestin.

Dramatic skies over the marina at Redon – plenty of navigable waters means boating is quite popular

After days of traffic free riding, being confronted with large lorries and other vehicles was quite a shock to the system!

Dinner was at a delicious Cambodian and Asian restaurant, Saveurs d’Asie. As lovely as French food is, you do sometimes need a little variety and spice in your life!

Saturday 18th May – Redon to Guipry-Messac (47km)

We awoke to a strange phenomenon – a dry forecast, sunshine and lots of cyclists! Yes it was the weekend, and it seems every group of friends in Redon jumps on their bike and goes riding.

There are many circuits signposted – most starting along the River Vilaine, and then weaving off through quiet countryside. The dry weather had everyone out, and it was a joy to see.

As we wove our way to the Vilaine, we came across one cyclist who wasn’t going on towpaths. I don’t think either of us had seen a bike towing a caravan before, but if you dive down that particular Google rabbit hole, you will find quite a few articles talking about it!

Off on a different kind of adventure to us!

And so we turned north for the first time this trip, and began following the Vilaine River towards Rennes.

It was a spectacular morning, with families cruising on the river, and a lot of cyclists. None stopped for a picnic like we did though, and enjoyed a feast of a lunch with a fine view.

Our typical lunch – salad with fish and hummus, coupled with a cup of herbal tea. I carried the vinaigrette in my bike’s drink bottle holder! Superb!

It really wasn’t long before all the other cyclists had turned off and it was back to being the two of us riding along the river. When I say the two of us, I meant us and many birds. In fact so many cuckoos that I renamed our route ‘Cuckoo Valley’.

At one point along our cycle we looked up into the blue skies, spotting some huge birds circling in the warm wind currents. I looked them up – White Storks, and not a baby between them!

A long way up! White Storks looking black against the sky

We continued on our way north, relishing the dry weather.

Wildflowers galore along the water’s edge

The train from Rennes to Morlaix crossing a bridge

On we rode to our destination for the day, the sleepy little village of Guipry-Messac. Or so we thought it was sleepy. It seems to be going through a bit of a revival, with some very grand houses often recently renovated, and more on their way.

We booked what looked like to be the best restaurant in town, located in the middle of the river, accessible by bridge, and after a chilled out end to the day, strolled down for our meal.

Our restaurant in an old water mill – there are glass tiles through which you can see the wheel turning below you

The restaurant was quite well attended, and we appeared to be the only tourists, and certainly the only non-French people there. We worked out that this village is only a 30 minute train commute into the nearest city, Rennes, and therefore would be an attractive location for those who want a little peace and quiet outside of their working life. It certainly ticked all our boxes

Sunday 19th May – Guipry-Messac to Rennes (50 km)

We farewelled our host, conveying in broken French that we regretted not being able to learn more about his beautiful home and grounds, and giving his little dog, Scot, a final cuddle before we mounted our steeds and continued our journey north.

It was another fine day, and beautiful ride. As a sunny Sunday, there were other cyclists and pedestrians about, particularly as we rode on towards Rennes.

This is a rejuvenated quarry. We stopped off here after hearing bird calls which my Merlin App identified as Peregrine Falcons. A birder arrived soon after we did carrying a spotting scope, and told me he had been watching the birds for months, and they had a nest with chicks on the cliffs. He let us see the female Peregrine through his scope, sitting up in one of the trees watching us. What a special experience!

Lunch was in a picturesque location along the river on one of the many picnic benches conveniently placed. The river led us right into the centre of Rennes, after which the town had many cycleways guiding us right to our accomodation.

More fresh salad and some bread from breakfast for our lunch picnic, along with a cup of tea

Our home for the next two nights was an unusual hotel, The Magic Hall. It is a bar and restaurant too, with one large communal table for people to eat at, and people are encouraged to cook their own meals. In addition to all this, it also had a recording studio! It had a very good vibe.

We celebrated our arrival with a drink, before storing our bikes in the hotel and settling into our film-themed room. All of the rooms had a different theme, and ours was predominantly Pulp Fiction based, with photography from the film framed around the walls.

We strolled into town to find some dinner, spotting an Asian-themed Poke Bowl and Bao Bun takeaway spot. Just what we fancied. As soon as we arrived, the heavens literally opened, turning the streets into rivers and sending people dashing under umbrellas and into stores. We settled down the enjoy our food.

Looking out into the very wet courtyard – raining in Rennes – what a surprise!

Monday 20th May – A day in Rennes (15km walked)

One of the great challenges in France seems to be finding a business open, there seems to be few chances to spend money with anyone. This warm, sunny Monday morning was just like this.

Lovely cobbled streets and very few people

Rennes is the capital city of Brittany. Like so many of the villages and towns we had cycled through, it is known for its medieval half-timbered houses, and the grand Rennes Cathedral.

The city is home to 66,000 students, with the 8th largest university in France, and the overall vibe is young and modern. It is one of France’s ‘silicon valley’s’ considered a centre of technical innovation, and has been voted the most liveable city in France. We loved how some of the old architecture had been melded with the ultra modern in an arty and interesting way which didn’t feel at odds with the historical centre.

Part of the old city wall which has been integrated with the growing centre

Part of the university emerges from this old church building, with rotating mirror windows that catch the sunlight and send beams across the courtyard

Quintin, one of the hotel managers (an expat who grew up near Exeter in Devon, UK but who has lived in France for most of his adult life) told us that cars were moved out of the city in 2020, and the bicycle became the primary mode of transport, along with the metro and travelling on foot. It was lovely to stroll around cobbled streets without motor vehicles, no fear of being run down or our ears assaulted with the roar of engines after our days of the sounds of nature.

Parc du Thabor is in the centre of the city – once the domain of monks with no access to the everyday person, today it is a beautiful park full of water features, mature trees, and stunning rose gardens. They also had an aviary, mostly visited by excited children who delighted in poking sticks through the cage for the (mostly Australian – cockatiels, rosellas, budgerigars, zebra finches and so on) birds to land on.

Parc du Thabor is a place of serenity – many flowers and a newly fledged blue tit chick being fed by busy parents

We marvelled at how many people were in the park, and why they were not at lectures or working on this Monday morning. A quick Google search revealed it was a public holiday, one of many in France, this one to mark Whit Monday (celebrating the ‘birth’ of the Christian church). It also semi-explained why all the shops were closed (I say semi, as the opening hours often excluded Monday anyhow!).

We finished our visit to Rennes with dinner at a seafood restaurant, served by a waiter who delighted in telling all visitors how good their French was (even if it was terrible!).

Oysters as an entree – very tasty indeed

Tuesday 21 May: Rennes to Morlaix by train, then Morlaix to Roscoff by bike…or not for Mr A (28.5 km cycled)

We farewelled the friendly folk at The Magic Hall, and rode off towards Rennes train station, from which we had booked a train to take us and our bikes back to Morlaix, and from there we would cycle back to Roscoff for our final night.

The first 500 metres went without issue, but then we heard a loud ‘crack’ and Mr A could no longer pedal his bike. The carbon belt (instead of a metal chain), had snapped! What a nightmare!

Uh-oh, no more cycling til this can be replaced

I quickly got onto Google to see whether there was a bike shop nearby, and rode off to ask whether they could help. Mark soon scooted behind me, and they checked the size. Unfortunately they had the next size up, but not the one we needed.

On the way to the station there was another shop, so I rode off to buy lunch for the train journey, while Mr A scooted the bike to the next shop. Unfortunately we were unlucky again. It would take 2 days to order one in. We were ferrying back to the UK tomorrow, so could not wait. So we headed to the train.

Boarding the train was not as awful as we anticipated, with our pre booked large cycle space allowing our bikes to be stored level – far better than the ridiculous tiny space on UK trains where you have to hook your heavy bikes up somehow.

This is how bikes should be carried on trains – they even had their own seatbelt

The journey was spent translating and sending messages to all the bike shops in Morlaix in the hope they might have a spare belt there. Annoyingly, the message was the same – it would take 2-3 days for the right size belt to arrive.

We got to Morlaix and spoke to the taxi drivers at the station, but none of them was willing to carry a heavy e-bike to Roscoff. I then noticed a load of Europcar hire vans parked on the other side of the station. Perhaps we could hire one of those? We found the hire shop, conveniently right opposite the station, complete with staff who could speak English fluently. Mr A hired a van for 90 minutes for €50 and took off with his bike in the back.

It was another sunny afternoon, so rather than drive the final stage, I jumped on my bike and rode to Roscoff.

Mr A arrived back in Roscoff by bus some time later, and we sat down by the harbour in a bar with outside seating for a calming beverage. Phew. That was a stressful day, but we had made it!

Our harbour side view – even on a Tuesday evening it was busy with people playing pétanque and enjoying the warm weather

Roscoff is a very sweet fishing village, which also is home to the Brittany Ferries port to Plymouth and Ireland. It was bustling on this warm, sunny evening, but we were so tired from our day, we skipped dinner and went to our sea-view room to relax.

Wednesday 22 May – Roscoff to Plymouth – the end of the trip

It was an early start, with Mr A scooting his bike to the port at 7am, and me following shortly later under pedal-power. Cyclists boarded first, and we were soon on our way back across the English Channel to the UK, an easy end to a superb holiday.

Getting ready to leave the ferry at Plymouth

Reflections on an amazing cycling adventure in Brittany by Mr A

“Ah ….the serenity”..is a famous line from an Australian movie called The Castle, and is contentedly uttered breathlessly by one of the main characters. Now I use the phrase, like many other Australians, in moments of bliss, where life is at a slow pace, stress free and often when in nature.

For me this is the essence of what this trip meant to me. Take noisy combustion engined vehicles out of your holiday equation, and what you experience around you fundamentally alters. Then slow down your viewing to that of about three times your walking speed. Fast enough to propel you through a variety of different landscapes, slow enough to allow you to stop whenever something catches your eye, ears or nose. This is cycle touring, and I love it.

Then you add in a traffic free cycling infrastructure, that Brittany (and the rest of mainland Europe) has a plethora of, and you have an almost endless set of well marked paths (the Eurovelo network) on which to explore this fascinating continent. Someone else has already done the route finding for you, diversions labelled to point you to sustenance, or accomodation that you won’t find on Booking.com. To see this almost endless set of touring possibilities opened up, just a ferry ride away, is totally amazing and feeds the wanderlust that has always fuelled our pleasure centres.

Finally, the holiday for me created memories I will value of people we connected with because we were staying in guest houses and small privately owned hotels. For instance, the couple who had moved from the industrial heart of England to the rural depths of Britanny, purchasing a friend’s boutique canal-side hotel, neither having ever been in the hospitality business before. Bold move right? No going back once you jump into a much cheaper property market (as we have also done). Or the guy running another small hotel, who I was a little intrigued about, and observed to as we left (thanks to Google Translate), “I wonder what your story is?”. That night he took the time and trouble (and trust) to share via long text what that story was. Very moving, and inspiring actually.

Strangers intersecting on their life paths, and learning a little of each other on the way, perhaps changing their own views a little as a result. For me this is a wonderful element to this type of holiday, and so different to our city break type trips. I’ve enjoyed the latter, but am left feeling a little like “did we really touch and feel this place?”, after a few days of dashing round the sights, staying in big anonymous hotels. With cycle touring, the possibility to really get an insight into the country is so different.

So thats my two penny’s worth on the trip.

Things may have been challenging at times, but we both had a superb time, worked well together to solve problems, and are looking forward to planning our next adventure. Thank you for joining us on this one!

May 26, 2024May 30, 2024

11-22 May 2024: Brittany on two wheels (Part one)

Author: Mr and Mrs A

Location: Plymouth, UK and Brittany, France

We have just arrived home from a superb ten days exploring Brittany by e-bike. Day after day of riding along stunning canals, lined with yellow flag irises, the cacophony of birdsong from the multitude of wrens, cuckoos, woodpeckers, blackbirds, robins and more accompanying the crunch of gravel as our wheels turned. At almost every bend in the river or canal we were welcomed by the heady scent of May tree blossom, a perfume so powerful we never failed to turn and admire the small white flowers. And yes, it rained, but the sun shone too, and we really appreciated those warm rays when they came.

The initial dream for this trip came from Mr A, after he had returned from a 10 day adventure with our friend Owen, cycling from Roscoff to Saint-Brieuc in Brittany late last September. They both returned gushing with stories of the people they had met, the incredible food and stunning weather which accompanied them on their trip.

In January this year, the winter weather dreary and wet, our hearts heavy with the loss of Tassie, Mr A and I sat at our kitchen bench, booked our ferry tickets to France, with the intention of repeating at least some of the adventure they undertook. We set about planning our route and accommodation. May, we thought, will be the sunniest month, the spring flowers, the birds, it will be perfect.

Yes, the adventure was to be on pedal-assisted bikes – these are not mopeds, we have to pedal to get the help from the motors, cheating in the eyes of some cycling purists, but for us, it means we actually get out there and see the world on two wheels AND enjoy the process. The only way to go!

Saturday 11 May – Plymouth, Devon, UK

And so finally we found ourselves in Plymouth. We parked the car in a secure space, and loaded the bikes with our panniers, and took off into town for an explore before dinner. The weather was glorious, and the waterside absolutely packed with semi-naked people enjoying the weather and making the most of the outside seating at the many pubs along there. We stopped for a drink, chatting with a couple from Cornwall, just a few miles down the road.

Dinner had been booked at a seafood restaurant in a very salubrious area of Plymouth, the newly gentrified Royal William Yard, a collection of Grade I listed buildings which were formerly Royal Navy supply yards, built in 1825. It shone out as a jewel in Plymouth, particularly on this sunny evening.

Yup – all our clothes, toiletries, stove and picnic gear – even a table – are in these panniers!

After dinner, we jumped on the bikes and rode a short way to Brittany Ferries, where we were soon boarded, and holed up in our cabin for the overnight sailing.

Sunday 12 May – Roscoff to Morlaix, Brittany (39 km)

Author: Mr A

And we’re on tour! We left Plymouth last night and took the overnight ferry to Roscoff in Brittany, to kick off 11 days cycle touring around this fabulous part of France.

Initially we are following the route Owen and I did last September, but then continuing on further south down the Nantes – Brest canal and then over to the regions capital, Remmes.

Well it got off to a good start, with a smooth crossing, although with a 4.30 alarm this morning to get us docked by 5, it felt like a long day already.

And. we have touchdown in France (after 3 hours of very broken sleep!)

A glorious sunrise to welcome us to France as we ride straight from the ferry onto the cycle trail

Quiet country lanes escort us around the coast

A sea mist soon rolls in, obscuring the sun

Boats along the coast look like they are almost flying, as sea and sky combine

We had a very easy ride around the coast though, stopping to snag the last baguette in a little village shop for a picnic brunch with a view across the Morlaix estuary, and quickly followed by a cheeky nap on a bench.

We cycled in past this rather grand marina on the Morlaix River

We were soon in Morlaix itself, a town Owen and I had really liked. It doesn’t feel over touristed in this part of Brittany, and everyone is very welcoming.

The town of Morlaix is dominated by a huge granite railway viaduct, built in just 2 years (1861-63) by 2,000 workers.

We found a path that led us across the viaduct, giving a fabulous unique view of the town

Half timbered houses from the 16th Century line many of Morlaix’s streets

The sun made a showing, so it was a no rush lunch with a delicious big salad. Everything always tastes just so fresh here. Two sales, one ice cream, a beer and lite bottle of water all for less than 40 Euros.

Our home for the night, a gorgeous old manor house in its own private grounds, and very grand rooms with a fab brekky. All for the princely sum of 125 Euros! Great value here.

Monday 13 May – Morlaix to Rostrenen (82 km)

Author: Mrs A

Rain greeted us as soon as we awoke, and did not stop all day. This was to be our longest day of riding, also the hilliest with a few rail trails alongside the canal towpaths. I will not lie, it was tough, and I really felt my 50% closed airway on the half a kilometre of climbing!

We left Morlaix, sourcing ourselves a fresh baguette on the way out, the kindly baker cutting it in half so we could stow it away in a waterproof pannier. It was not long before we were on traffic-free pathways. The stress of vehicles in poor visibility removed, we were free to concentrate on avoiding potholes and keeping upright in the somewhat slippery conditions.

Mr A enjoying a downhill segment of an old railway

Sheltering under a bridge for a drink break – still smiling!

We were in as much waterproof protection as possible, right down to our socks, but it was no match to the heavy precipitation which endured throughout the day. Fortunately it was not cold, and we still managed to smile through the damp and have a superb ride through the countryside.

Our typical view as we cycled the towpaths, very few people out in this weather, but anyone we did see always calling out “Bonjour” with a wry smile

Our destination for the night was a canalside house near the village Rostrenen. Thankfully our host was well aware that on a Monday night there was no food to be purchased, so had offered to cook for us.

We arrived late afternoon, finding an ex-pat Brit running the B&B, who is also a cycling fanatic. He was very forgiving of our dripping state, helped us hose off our muddy bags and bikes, and set up drying racks for our jackets and trousers. We had really fallen on our feet.

Postcards in the reception area give some suggestion as to what we might have seen on a blue-sky day

Dinner was served after we had showered and changed into dry clothes, our room strewn with all our wet stuff, attempting to dry them over radiators and towel rails. We shared a bottle of wine with our host, as he shared tales of how he and his wife had ended up in France.

After a long day, we turned in for the night, I just about glimpsed a tinge of pink in the clouds as I drew the curtains…the sun was setting and had even shown its face for the occasion. Hopefully the next day would be a little drier.

Tuesday 14th May – Rostrenen to Pontivy (60 km)

Author: Mrs A

The day started off with 15 minutes of sunshine…followed by 30 minutes of rain…which pretty much set off the trend for the day. After yesterday’s soaking however, we were happy to accept any amount of dry time!

We had not long left our accommodation before we stumbled across our first challenge – a tree down across the path. We consulted with a couple of local walkers, who said it must have fallen overnight, and with the help of Google, I plotted a short diversion via quiet lanes. Problem quickly solved.

The sunny spells gradually got a bit longer, and at times during the day we even left off our waterproofs – only having to stop a short while later to put them back on!

Our ride continued along the Nantes-Brest canal, weaving its way past locks and old lock-keeper cottages. Wagtails seemed to guide us along our path, flitting in and out of the trees, landing on the floor just ahead of us, only to repeat the process again. You could not help but absorb their joy.

Brightly coloured Foxgloves offer a break from the multitude of greens

We were not far from our destination for the day, Pontivy, when I spotted something interesting on the other side of the water – an otter! It also spotted us and dove under the water, only to pop up right in front of us, then disappear into the riverbank before I could grab the camera. I will never forget seeing that beady eye and twitching whiskers as it gave a final kick and disappeared into the undergrowth.

Pontivy is a small town, like Morlaix, full of half-timbered buildings, but unlike Morlaix, only a few places to eat and drink. And eating and drinking was on our minds once we had arrived at our hotel, as we were meeting our friends from Wales, Lauris and Ed. They were on holiday in France, and had diverted their journey to come and meet us for an evening.

We stored our bikes in the hotel’s secure garage, and after a quick freshen up joined our friends for drinks and nibbles before a superb dinner in a restaurant just down the road. I had booked it online, using Google translate to explain my dairy-free dietary requirements (a strange concept in butter-filled northern France!), and their chef was well prepared to make me a delicious meal without milk. Amazing. A fun night out.

Wednesday 15 May: Pontivy to Josselin (54 km)

Author: Mrs A

We had breakfast with our friends, before packing up for our day’s ride. We started off a little dusty after our late night, but soon blew the cobwebs away as we got back into the rhythm of riding.

The freedom of having everything with you and simply following a cycle trail means your mind has a moment to drift and absorb everything around you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, knowing you are safe from traffic, and instead free to smell, hear, observe and absorb life along the canal.

About mid-day we passed the point where Mr A and Owen had turned left. We were now on new territory for both of us.

A Grey Heron takes flight as we ride past

Mr A and Owen took the rigol d’Hivern (Hilvern channel – built to funnel water into the Nantes-Brest Canal) towards Saint-Brieuc at this point

The weather had improved to the point where the sunny periods were longer than the rain, but we kept those waterproofs handy, as when the clouds decided to leak, it was pretty heavy!

Before long we began seeing a few more cyclists and dog walkers along the path, always a sure sign we are approaching a settlement, and lo and behold, we had arrived at Josselin.

Josselin Castle, quite a magnificent sight as we arrive into town

We’d not eaten lunch, and arriving at 2:30pm had low expectations on finding any food. All the cafes in town, even the one kebab shop, were closed, so we rode out to the supermarket and picked up a few bits and pieces for a picnic.

At 5pm we were able to check into our accommodation for the evening, set in one of Josselin’s largest houses, with a covered deck out the back where we could charge up the bike batteries and keep them dry.

Thursday 16 May – Day off riding in Josselin

Back in January when we were planning this trip, we had done a bit of reading about our destinations, and felt Josselin might be a good place to stop for two nights. Carrying limited clothes means we had to do some washing, so this was the spot to do it.

Our hostess loaned us drying rack which we left undercover while we explored the small town and found ourselves some lunch. Brittany is well known for its buckwheat crêpes, both sweet and savoury, so we found ourselves a local cafe with lunch specials, and settled down. The crêpes are usually made with butter, but I asked politely and the chef used oil for mine instead. It was very delicious and light, served with cooked tomatoes, anchovies and salad.

Excuse the untidy hair – here was lunch!

After lunch I approached another restaurant in town to see whether we could book a table for that evening. There were two 5-star restaurants in Josselin, and we had eaten at the other one the previous evening. I gave notice of my dairy-intolerance and was shocked when the chef exclaimed “Non!”. They would rather not have either of us to dinner than be flexible with the menu. So no booking there. Instead, we made a reservation at the same spot as last night, La Table d’O – previous winners of the Best Restaurant in Brittany, and well deserved too.

There was more exploring to be done. First of all, I climbed the church tower to get a magnificent view of the town and surroundings.

The church is right in the centre of the village, and the last place to see the sun at sunset – as seen from our bedroom window

And looking back at our accommodation from the top of the church tower

And an aerial view of our next destination for the day, Josselin Castle

Top: Proof of life – after the exhausting climb up the narrow spiral staircase – Left: looking up into the spire Right: Looking down at the town hall

I met Mr A back down on the cobbled streets and we made our way towards the picturesque Josselin Castle. I tried to purchase a tour in English, but apparently the translator was not working that day, so instead we did a short self tour, using the information boards in English.

Parts of Josselin Castle date back to 1008, but most of the current castle is from the late 1300s As soon as you walk in there is a rather spooky museum of dolls and puppets, which we whizzed through and out into the magnificent gardens.

The English Garden – full of roses and Foxgloves of every colour

The door to nowhere – this tower was once a part of defensive walls, now long gone

Sitting alongside the River Oust, the provides is a commanding view, its fairytale towers majestically dominating the local scenery

The castle is still being lived in by one of the original family members – a thousand years of occupancy. Those floors are of course inaccessible to tourists. We tried to learn what the occupant does for a living, but other than being a senator, we learned little.

Our visit to Josselin concluded with a superb dinner at La Table d’O, with delicious food and a magnificent view of the castle as the sun set.

I even got a dairy-free dessert! Mr A had a cheese platter, and they kindly took a photo of us both with the castle view

Tomorrow we were off again. I know we were both excited to get away again, some freshly clean clothes, rested legs and recharged bikes. What adventures, sights, sounds and smells would lay ahead of us? We would soon discover…

January 2, 2020

25 December – 1 January: Oh what a year! Reflecting on 2019 as we enter a new decade

Author: Mrs A

Location: Sydney, Australia

The past week has been full of friends, colour and laughter, starting with a Christmas day feast, lunch catch up in the city, and finishing the year with a bollywood inspired new year’s eve fancy dress party.

Christmas and new year’s fun with friends in Sydney, Australia

Coming to the end of the year, it’s a great time to reflect on all the amazing things we have seen and done – even we pinch ourselves when we recall all the adventures we have had.

The year started in New Zealand, spending time in Omokoroa, a stunning quiet harbour side area in the North Island near Tauranga. We did some incredible walks, met up with lovely friends and spent some quality time with my dad and his wife Sue.

From there, we returned to Australia and spent a couple of months touring Victoria, catching up with friends new and old, a little wine tasting, paddling and cycling thrown in for good measure.

February-March 2019 – Victoria, Australia

At the end of March it was time for our long awaited Europe adventure. We flew to the UK, arriving on what should have theoretically been Brexit Day. Of course it didnt happen, which suited us fine, allowing us free reign to explore Europe without deadlines. We picked up a new-to-us motorhome, which we named Truffy (all motorhomes have a name apparently!), and set about making him comfortable while we caught up with friends and family, Mr A becoming expert in piloting a left-hand-drive vehicle.

Our first month with Truffy, touring friends and family

In May we set off for France, taking a ferry across the channel. We joined friends at a gite in the Champagne region and learned a lot about sparkly bubbles. In Provence, there were more friends to see, beautiful scenery and amazing weather.

Leaving there, we headed off to the Italian Riviera and Tuscany, falling in love with the beautiful towns, friendly people and delicious food and wine.

We travelled across the middle of Italy over to Le Marche, where we spent a week with more friends, touring the stunning villages, vineyards and mountains of the area.

Croatia was our next stop, with some time in Dubrovnic before a cycle-cruise with friends up through the islands. Sparkling clear waters, peaceful sleepy villages and friendly smiles on the islands, a little edgier on the mainland, busy with tourists flocking to the pebbly beaches for the summer. From there we worked our way up through the country to Slovenia.

Amazing sunsets and turquoise waters greeted us in Croatia

Slovenia, we really loved. From spectacular art, delicious wine, amazing cycling opportunities, safe, friendly cities and the most beautiful lakes of Bled and Bohinj. To say nothing of enjoying the novelty of cycling into Italy and back, just because we could.

We drove through the Karawanks Alpine Range to Austria next, a country chock full of stunning views, colourful houses, and a cyclist’s dream with hundreds of kilometers of paths away from traffic or through quiet villages.

A brief interlude with Bavaria in Germany caught us up with some old friends while visiting lakes, waterfalls, castles and more cycle adventures.

Our 10th country of the year was Switzerland, where a pulled pork sandwich is a cool $42 at the airport. Mr A spent some time by bike exploring Zurich while I flew to the UK for a hospital visit, and once I was back we moved on to cheaper regions back in France.

Cycling and river swimming in Swizerland

We spent a few weeks in France, did some big day walks, explored Brittany and Normandy and wallowed in the Anglo-French history, learning lots about everything from medieval times through to the second world war. We did some cycling and wine tasting the Loire Valley, and decided we were not so keen on French oysters when we parked for the night on a farm.

Back in the UK we spent some time with family and explored areas we had not seen much of before. We visited Derbyshire, Yorkshire, County Durham and the Lake District, but the absolute highlight was Scotland. After a few days in Edinburgh, we set off for the Outer Hebrides, visiting Skye, Harris and Lewis, and the highlands. Being off peak, the weather was rather fresh, but the scenery spectacular and unlike anything else.

We finished off our time in the UK with visits with friends in Chester and Nottinghamshire, before putting Truffy into storage for a few months and jetting off on what should have been the next Brexit Day (but wasn’t) to the warmth of Australia.

A final fling visiting friends and family before we jet off around the world

Back in Australia we had a brief catch up with friends in Sydney, before picking up our Zone (caravan) and heading south. We went back into Victoria, exploring some more wine regions and attending a Zone-muster.

We were fortunate to be invited to house sit for a good friend for six weeks over the Christmas period – a time we generally try to avoid travelling due to the busy school summer holidays. It has really made us appreciate being settled in a home for a few weeks, a chance to unpack, take stock and enjoy the city life from a location that is quiet and bushy.

Many of the areas we visited in November have now been burnt beyond recognition, the tarmac melted and warped, trees down across roads, properties and lives lost. It is so sad, but we feel privileged to have visited the regions in safety before all this happened.

There is enough in the press about the fires through Australia so I won’t dwell on that, only that like the rest of the country we are hoping for relief sooner than later – sadly no rain forecast at least until the end of January. Mark and I have donated to the Salvation Army Bushfire Appeal – please click on the link if you’re able to help too – any sum of money is appreciated to help those families who have lost everything.

Thank you to everyone who was a part of our year and helped make it so special. The kindness of friends and strangers (who became friends!) has really made our travels so memorable.

Thank you too to everyone who regularly follows our posts, we really appreciate it! If you’re not yet a subscriber and would like to make sure you don’t miss an update from us, you can subscribe here. We have an exciting year ahead planned, with more travel in Australia, Singapore, the UK, Austria, Spain, France and Scandinavia.

We would like to take this opportunity to wish you a very happy, healthy and safe year ahead, may 2020 bring you adventures and maybe we’ll meet you on the road somewhere?

Keep in touch, we LOVE hearing from you!

PS If you were part of our year and we’ve not included a photo of you in our montages its only because we are so limited in how many to include – I am certain there is likely a photo of you on this blog somewhere! Thank you!

September 7, 2019

5-6 September: And so back to the UK!

Author: Mr (and Mrs) A

Location: Dieppe to Newhaven ferry, English Channel, Europe

And so after just over 4 months touring Europe (we find ourselves already distinguishing that from the UK!) and we are on our way back to the UK. A time to reflect on our experiences.

We started Europe on a high, with a few days with friends (new and old) Champagne tasting

110 of those nights were spent camping, in all sorts of places from car parks in the middle of towns, ‘fancy’ (often not) campsites charging more than a hotel, vineyards, oyster farms, beside crumbling castle ruins…and so the list goes on. What those places had in common was a respect for other campers. Even when crowded together a metre apart, not once were we were disturbed by thoughtless noise from our fellow campers or passers by. In Australia, as our camping friends know, you’re lucky to go a couple of nights without some booze ot drug fuelled hoons running your serenity. A very different culture here, both on campsites and on the roads. We’ve loved that.

Magical sight of Assisi complete with friendly cats

Seafront views complete with oysters in Brittany

What we’ve missed is the ability to just chat to people easily because we share a language. This morning my trip to the boulangerie went particularly smoothly, even ending up with what I thought I ordered, a rarity I have to say. There was a real sense of achievement in that, given my very sad state of linguistic ability. I spent French lessons at school being mostly slapped with a ruler by a very uninspiring educator. I will though miss being challenged to learn at least the basics to show courtesy to our local country hosts. But our UK friends and family beware, we are incoming with A LOT TO SAY!

Plenty of English spoken with friends in La Marche, Italy

Old connections reestablished in Germany…

We have loved the variety of scenery and culture that Europe offers. You drive a few miles down the road and everything you see changes so fast. The landscape, the architecture, the farming, the signs (despite the EU’s best efforts), it’s a constant assault on the senses and we have loved it. The variety in the food as well, stacked up in supermarkets groaning with options. And please explain why you travel 20km down the road and go from one “country” to another and the food is completely different. How did that come to pass? Well I’m glad it did anyway. For us, Italy was an absolute standout winner on the dining-out front, quality, price, service, ambience…all just brilliantly executed. And on dining in, well we found great fresh produce everywhere, and the very talented Mrs A turned that into awesome lunch and dinners in our little Truffy.

In the driving department (there’s only me working in that one), it was a little stressful to start with getting used to the dimensions of our Fiat truck, with its the manual gear box changed with the right hand (it is left hand drive), plus everything happening on the other side of the road. But…OK…settled into it. A few hairy moments, like driving into a tunnel in Italy having roadworks performed, which clearly didn’t involve fixing the tunnel lights, and seeing massive lorries thundering towards me in the other lane, usually reserved for traffic going the same way!! But I have to say while on the subject of Italy, the drivers there were some of the most courteous we encountered, overtaking in places I wouldn’t, but understanding of my constraints in Truffy. We had one horn honked at us in 4 months, I was a little cautious after the tunnel nightmare of every dark yawning hole that I approached…a little too carefully it would seem.

Finding somewhere to park for the night, even in the middle of the high season, never presented a problem. We didn’t always like the prices or the facilities, but there was always somewhere. France the clear winner here. Their network of places to pull up, refill with water, empty your grey and black water, is just fantastic, and many of these are free. We always tried to make sure we went into the town though wherever they were and spent some money, only fair. Many of these places were no more than scruffy car parks with a bit of kit in the corner that allowed for the emptying and filling, with various degrees of success and cleanliness. Mrs A was also an absolute wiz at researching all of these stopovers, allowing me to focus on getting us there in one piece. What a team!

Our bikes that took us for literally hundreds of kilometres

Our packrafts allowed us to get away from the crowds and see some wildlife

So what would we have done differently? I asked Catherine this yesterday and we both agreed…very little. Splashed out on an awning for Truffy to keep us cooler, that’s about it. We also knew we had a great team in our dealer’s workshop to talk to if something went wrong with Truffy, which it rarely did. We loved the layout of the van, but more of that in a separate post. Having almost constant internet thanks to our 4G signal booster on the roof and a super plan from Vodafail…connectivity and therefore information was almost always on hand…well except in Germany where they seem to be strangely lagging in the internet department given their usual level of efficiency! Even the amount of time on the road felt right, if we hadn’t have had our stopovers “drive surfing” through France and Italy we think it would have been more challenging. As it was we got to stretch ourselves out every so often and move our elbows while having a shower…luxury.

A bit of drive surfing to celebrate a big birthday in Italy

And another big birthday celebrated in Croatia, island hopping by boat and cycling

So…friends-and-family time next and we are both really excited to be doing that. One thing we have noticed about writing this blog, our friends don’t feel they need to check in and share what they’re up to (or maybe it’s the excuse they’ve been looking for all along!?).) We have so much catching up to do.

Then at the end October its back to Australia, our fur child and Aussie based friends. That also is something to look forward to. Retirement…the holiday that never ends. Or sorry I should say “career break” for Catherine. She gets a bit touchy if I say “we’re retired”. She’s clearly too young for that, and spends a chunk of her time volunteer-working on her role as admin for the health support group she runs along with research with doctors across the world. Much to admire in my wife…

September 4, 2019September 5, 2019

4 September: Feeling reflective in Normandy…

Author: Mr A

Location: Longues-sur-mer & Rouen, Normandy, France

This is the first time I’ve seen the area that was the scene of the D day landings in 1944. I found it overwhelmingly sad, and could not understand the smiling selfies that people were taking next to the remnants of the carnage in which so many lost their lives. As was Germany’s leader said last year:

“…when the generation that survived the war is no longer here, we’ll find out whether we have learned from history”.
Angela Merkel, Chancellor of Germany, 2018

Wise words indeed.

German weapons trained on the English Channel. Their purpose quite clear

These were designed to sink ships and kill soldiers

I saw that quote in this article published last year in The Guardian written by a 93 year old Polish survivor of the war. I keep re-reading it and finding new depth in the insights he has, both reflecting on his life, and providing some salutary observations on where our world may be headed.

To summarise, and not do his prose justice, Aronson is afraid the “armchair patriots” of today tap into the fears our baser nature has under the screen of firing up “national dignity”. There are clearly many people around the world receptive to their messages that somehow things would be better for them if their country took more care of its borders, and “preserved” their independence and grew their power as a nation.

I have never been close to experiencing any small scale conflict, let alone a war between nations, but I know how I was affected today seeing these relics and reading the information boards describing the horrific events that unfolded on those Normandy beaches. Of course by then there was no choice, the Third Reich had to be stopped. the world would have been ruled by a regime with a hatred for all that was not “Aryan”. I have nothing but admiration for those who stepped up and stopped them.

As Arinson says “Do not underestimate the destructive power of lies”. The world was almost destroyed by them and up to 85 million people lost their lives, and countless more their homes, family and friends. Lies are being spread even more efficiently today using platforms like the one I’m using for this blog. Lying, providing alternative truths, seems to have been socialised now as a “normal” way to communicate, when some leaders on the world stage don’t even bat an eyelid when doing so. They seek to fuel hatred of other groups who don’t share their views on culture, religion, or golf resorts. Yes, those of us who live in democracies get to have our say once every so often, but day to day we can also speak against these people and their lies.

The city of Rouen, suffered greatly while occupied by Nazi Germans in World War II

Rouen Cathedral, dating back to the 4th century, has been extensively restored

Rouen was liberated from the Nazis in August 1944, a flag flown from the cathedral showing the extensive bomb damage to the city from Allied forces

The interior of the cathedral has also been restored

Wise men look over us, many still showing damage from shrapnel and the fires during WWII, a stark reminder of the longevity of scars

The streets of old town Rouen are also well restored

Claude Monet painted the city of Rouen extensively during the 1890s

Monet painted the cathedral in different lights…oh for simpler times…

September 4, 2019September 4, 2019

3 September: Hastings girl gets to see the Bayeux Tapestry

Author: Mrs A

Location: Bayeux and Longues-sur-mer, Normandy, France

Growing up in Hastings, in the south-east of the UK, it was hard to avoid mentions of the battle. In fact I have to say that all my life , when asked where I grew up, I tend to answer ‘Hastings, as in the battle-of, 1066’. It seems there are few people in the world who havent heard of the famous arrow-in-the-eye end of King Harold and the subsequent taking of the throne by King William.

During the 1980s, the mascot of Hastings was even ‘Harold the Hamster’, a cute furry character in Saxon clothing…I wonder what happened to him. Google seems to have no answers on that count…

The Bayeux Tapestry was all but a mythical item, we knew it existed, way across the waters in France, but were unlikely to see it. Instead we had the Hastings Embroidery, commissioned in 1966 to commemorate 900 years since the battle, and depicting scenes throughout British history since 1066. I remember seeing that in the town hall, wondering at the hours of work involved and the stories it involved. But it wasn’t the tapestry.

So today was the day. We drove to the little town of Bayeux, half way up the Normandy coast, inland from where the D-Day landings took place during WWII. We wound our way through the town’s old cobbled streets, dominated by the huge cathedral (consecrated in 1077, eleven years after the battle), where the tapestry was shown for two weeks every year for several centuries.

Today the nearly thousand year old tapestry is stored in a museum, carefully preserved under special lighting and atmospheric conditions. No photography is allowed, but to give you a feel there are some reproduced tapestries for sale in the gift shop.

So, according to the French, the story goes like this…

There once was an Anglo-Saxon king of England called Edward the Confessor. He had no children and was reaching his last days and so had to choose a successor as king. He decided that his distant Norman cousin, William should be the next king of England, and so his brother-in-law Harold was sent over to France to give William the good news.

Once Harold got back to England and King Edward died, Harold decided that he should in fact be king, and announced it, supported by the noblemen. He was crowned and enjoyed a few peaceful months on the throne.

Meanwhile, William was a bit miffed about this and got his people building and preparing boats, horses and supplies to take across the channel to contest the throne.

By October they were ready and headed off across the English Channel, landing on Pevensey beach. They did a little pillaging of the peasants there and enjoyed a good feast in preparation for a fight. English spies ran to Harold and told him William had arrived, and so he got his armies ready.

The Normans set sail across the English Channel

Feasting at Pevensey Bay – the noblemen at a table, blessed by a priest, and the soldiers eating off their shields

There was a bloody and violent battle, with massive losses on both sides, but on 14 October 1066 King Harold was slain. According to the tapestry this was from an arrow which fell from above (perhaps a reference to the hand of God) and into his eye, but other records suggest his death was by sword rather than arrow. Two months later, on Christmas Day, WIlliam the Comquerer was crowned king of England.

Not in the tapestry, but incidentally King William ruled for 21 years until his death aged 59, falling off a horse. His third son William (the second) then took the throne.

So basically the tapestry was publicity to spread the word to the peasants in Normandy that England was theirs for the taking and depicting how powerful the Normans are. Most of the peasants couldn’t read or write, so pictures needed to tell a thousand words, and indeed they did. We can only assume there is some ‘fake’ news in the tapestry to make it a good story…after all, history is in the hands of the teller.

The Bayeau cathedral is huge and dominates the town

Just look at the size of the front door!

And pretty magnificent inside too, clearly designed to overwhelm the local peasants

A quick look into the cathedral on the way back to Truffy and we were on our way to camp for the night, just a short drive away.

We pulled up on the clifftop at Longues-sur-mer along with one or two other campers, enjoying the fresh sea breezes and amazing views along the coast.

Truffy and his motorhome buddies up on the clifftop

This coast, while beautiful and peaceful today experienced much violence in the Second World War, when the area was occupied by Nazi Germany. There remains much evidence around, with huge gun emplacements just behind where we camped and remains of the Atlantic Wall, built as a defence against the Allied Forces.

We did a lovely 8km evening walk before settling down for the night.

Remains of the Atlantic Wall can be seen in the background

September 2, 2019September 3, 2019

2 September: Normandy – a wander up the coast

Author: Mr A

Location: Chateau de Regnéville, Regnéville-sur-Mer, Normandy France

I’ll say one thing about writing a blog, it does focus you to read a bit about where you’re passing through. It would be easy to just drift on through these places. Drive-by tourism I think its called.

Does this remind us a bit of an English coastal resort…except with sand not stones….

Straining to see across the English Channel

Take today for instance. We have been continuing to make our way up the north Normandy coast, and stopped for a bit of wander along the cliffs, looking north over the town of Carolles, before parking up for the night next to a castle ruins. Now if i hadn’t been writing this blog, I reckon I could have easily pulled away in the morning learning nothing more than what was on the info board at the castle. All it said really was that it was built in the 12th century, and for the next few centuries was a fighting base for either the French or the English, depending on who was on top at the time.

Google wasn’t much more helpful, on this particular pile of stones, but it did get me down various rabbit holes learning (or perhaps re-learning because I would have been taught this stuff at some stage!) about this little corner of the world that has had such a huge impact on my English heritage.

I didn’t even know (remember from my…yawn…school history) that the word Normandy is derived from the description “Northmen” (or Vikings) who raided down this part of the coast, and eventually settled and inter-married (presumably after the raping and pillaging phase?), then were awarded lands by the French in return for bashing the English a bit.

La Sienne – the tide goes out a long way here

I guess the most famous bit of English clobbering from this part of the world happening on October 14th 1066 at..yes…the Battle of Hastings. The lovely Mrs A having gone to school there, would have heard our version of that little fisticuffs. Yup…French rule for poor old Blighty, the Norman Conquest as we called it. You’d think we’d have ended up with better food and nicer accents?

Here’s an exam question..if the French speaking nobility who lorded it over the English peasants for the next few hundred years, had forced them to learn their lovely language, what would have been the changes to history we would have seen? Frogs legs and a glass of wine as a Friday night supper, not prawn vindaloo and ten pints of lager? I admit to going down another rabbit hole and reading a whole series of answers to that question. The more you read, the more you realise the less you know. This trip has sure made me realise how woefully ignorant I am!

Is that the real purpose of travel?

And the sun sets on another day on the road

September 1, 2019September 3, 2019

31 August – 1 September: Two more medieval walled cities ticked off our Brittany list!

Author: Mrs A

Location: Dinan, Léhon and Saint-Malo, Brittany, France

We realised we had very little time to explore Brittany and so decided to speed past a good chunk of the region, heading north towards the town of Dinan.

Dinan was created as a strategic town by combining three villages in the 1100s and much of the city from the past five or six hundred years still remains. The old fortified wall is still intact, stretching for 3km around the city and there are several half timbered houses remaining, carefully protected. Unlike Concarneau’s old town, Dinan is still a living city, with more than just provisions for tourists. There are several art studios around, as well as jewellers, sculptors and other crafts.

We parked up in a free motorhome camping area in the nearby village of Léhon, and strolled up to the city. It was fairly peaceful on Saturday lunchtime, with none of the crowds of Concarneau. Crepes (savoury pancakes) are a regional favourite with several restaurants around the town offering them for lunch…all heavily filled with dairy products, not suitable for me.

Our first glimpse of the town is peaceful

We decided to stop at a burger joint for lunch, seemingly the only place to offer food I could eat. They also did an interesting French menu. Mr A bravely decided to go for the plât du jour, which the waitress described as ‘like sausage and chips’. It sounded harmless enough, but once Mr A had cut through the ‘sausage’ I could tell it was anything but! He struggled through a single bite, and offered it to me to smell. Utterly disgusting was the answer. We were soon enlightened by a French couple beside us – Mr A was in fact eating (or not eating) Andoilette – pigs intestines and colon. His face was so horrified the waitress took it away and served him up a chicken burger like mine for no extra charge!

We explored the cobbled streets of the town, enjoying the peace and quiet, and incredible views from the city walls, looking down over La Rance River.

Look at the depth of these walls…designed to protect the city’s occupants from attack

Looking across the rooftops towards the cathedral…see the city walls

Completed in 1852 – Viaduc de Lanvallay has 10 arches and is pretty impressive, especially when seen from the city above

Looking down at the Port de Dinan alongside the River Rance

The following morning we were in no hurry to rush off, and the sun was shining again after a showery evening, so we got out the bikes and went for a ride. It was Sunday morning and in France this means family day. Most of the shops are closed too, so people head to the countryside for some fresh air.

We found a shared cycle-walking path alongside the Rance River which started just a couple of minutes from where we were parked up. In no time at all we were riding through beautiful scenery calling out ‘bonjour’ to other cyclists, walkers and joggers as we headed towards Dinan marina and beyond. There is something so lovely about connecting with another human with not much more than just a smile and bidding one another ‘good day’ transcending all differences. This is something that is really missing in towns and cities when often people don’t even look at each other, and frequently are more focused on their phones than what is going on around them. I think people would be shocked in London or Sydney if I went around saying ‘good day’ to strangers!

A crisp fresh morning – the first day of Autumn and it feels like it!

Look at that happy couple skipping along behind Mr A!

We rode along through the port of Dinan, past people enjoying their crepes and coffees, yachts moored up for a day of exploring.

These days the port only sees leisure traffic heading for the restaurants and up to the walled city above

Looking up towards the viaduct and the walled city up on the hill on the right

Further down river at Port Sainte-Hubert

We rode as far as possible along the river until the path petered out by a railway bridge. Down here it seemed time had stood still for decades, with old fishing huts teetering on rotting planks and poles that nobody dare cross onto or repair. They look like strange sculptures hanging over the water.

Anyone fancy clambering along here to do some fishing?

We rode back to the village of Léhon following a path on the other side of the river. Léhon itself is well worth a visit, with its 12th century abbey and very pretty cottages.

The 12th century abbey and its well cared for gardens

We even found an interestingly named restaurant – La Marmite de l’Abbaye…no Marmite on the menu though, sadly!

(Incidentally ‘marmite’ means cooking pot in French, not referring to the salty brewers yeast you spread on toast!)…

Mmm, marmite….oh…’The abbey cooking pot’…not quite as interesting

After a light lunch back at Truffy, we jumped back on the road, heading towards the coast and the town of Saint-Malo.

Saint-Malo sits on a strategically important location, with a settlement having been there since Roman times (around 1 BCE). After being the home of Saxons and people escaping troubles in England, it was inhabited by monks in the 6th century and became known as Saint-Malo.

Our first glimpse of the walled city…no scull and crossbones on the tall ship so we assume all is safe

During the Middle Ages the walled city became a stronghold for pirates, known as privateers (officially employed by the king of France). It became a very wealthy city from all the loot captured from around the world, and from (mostly English) ships which were forced to pay a ‘tribute’ for passing up the English Channel in safety.

The city looks quite imposing with its grey granite walls

Finally a no-smoking area in France…shame nobody was policing it (a couple of smokers were just the other side of the sign!)

Despite its history, Saint-Malo looks fairly modern today. This is due to the post World War II rebuilding that took place in the 1950s and 60s, using original stone but more modern techniques. It is also a city with money – attracting more than 7.6 million visitors per year with an average of 78,000 visitors a day.

Fort National – built in 1689 to protect the port

The city was certainly bustling on this Sunday afternoon, with the cobbled pedestrianised roadways full of boutiques, jewellers and restaurants. There was even a boulangerie open for business. Mr A popped in to purchase a Kouign-amann, a sugary, buttery layered pasty cake, native to Brittany. He approved, but tells me the weight of it suggests it had quite a few buttery calories!

Bustling streets full of shoppers…no ‘bonjours’ here!

We avoided the shops and explored the quieter backstreets, finding our way to the city walls. From there we could see for miles across the sandy beaches, past the fort and on the horizon the islands of Jersey, Guernesey and on to the south west of England…okay, so England was in our imaginations only, but it’s only a ferry ride away from Saint-Malo (just under 9 hours to Portsmouth and about £180 one way with a car and two passengers, in case you’re wondering!).

A really interesting coastline…we would like to have our sea kayak over here for an explore

Interesting rooftops with a lot of chimneys

We had a bit more of an explore and I ducked into the cathedral for a quick look. Built in 1146 on the site of an old church from the 6th century, it too has been restored in the past 50 years after WWII bombing damage. The late afternoon sunlight shone in through the stained glass windows and gave a magical light, showering the walls with rainbows. It was a fine conclusion to our visit as we farewelled Saint-Malo and returned to Truffy to find camp for the night.

August 31, 2019September 3, 2019

30 August: Heading to the coast for more medieval action

Author: Mrs A

Location: Concarneau, Brittany, France

Having dipped our toe into 7,000 year old history it was time to return to the mere 900 year old historical towns that are more accessible in these parts. Our first stop was Concarneau, a fishing town on the coast. Tuna and sardines are the main business here, and it is France’s third most important fishing port, along with tourism, of course. To some extent it reminded me of my hometown of Hastings in the UK, the smell of fish, salty air and seaweed coupled with the sweetness of ice creams.

We arrived as the Friday morning market was closing up. We were sad to have missed it – it looked to have been huge and pretty good. We managed to buy a couple of things from stall holders before they finished completely and then crossed the bridge into town.

The walled city reflecting in the waters

Concarneau is very pretty, particularly when the sun is shining, and the old town almost entirely dedicated to tourism. It has been a while since we have seen rows of souvenirs for sale, gift boxed tuna and sardines, butter biscuits and toffee from Brittany, blue and white painted pottery (probably mass produced in China). In between these shops there were a few nice stores selling more authentic produce, and strangely an amazing smelling spice and tea store. We also found the crowds of people who have been missing from our past few weeks…well, they felt like crowds to us, but apparently French schools go back on Monday so visitor numbers are actually down on the past few weeks!

It wasn’t too hard to escape the crowds, however, stepping a few metres off the main street and up onto the walls. These have been well preserved, and offer fabulous views around the working harbour. Outside of the old city, it feels like an authentic working town. There’s a long distance coastal walk that starts here too, for those with more time.

The coast guard heading off on a mission

We had a walk around town, made a few purchases as gifts for friends back in the UK (look out for your white and blue china, folks – ha ha!) before heading off .

I wonder how many people have sat on this wall over the centuries

We selected another France Passion site for the night, this time just half an hour inland from Concarneau on a peaceful farm. We were greeted by three teenagers in their halting English, keen to show us where to park and give us a tasting of their grandparents’ cider home brew.

Of course we purchased a couple of bottles, it would be rude not to!

Truffy’s home for the night – a 400 year old farm selling cider and apple juice

August 29, 2019August 30, 2019

29 August: Puzzling over the mysteries of the Neolithic Carnac alignments…and eating oysters

Author: Mr A

Location: Locmariaquer and Carnac, Brittany, France

I went to a secondary school in England that was run by a headmaster who went on to make a better curator of Oxford museum than, in reflection, he did a headmaster of a boys school. I left school with very little passion ignited for learning. However, he did take us a on dig at a Roman villa near my home town, and that did stir an interest in ancient (rather than modern) history.

So when the opportunity presented itself to go and see the earliest known examples of megalithic architecture in Western Europe, I was excited! If you’re not really into that..I’d skip this post!

I’d spent some time over the last couple of days reading up about what the French call “The Carnac alignments”, a collection of megaliths (large stones that have been used to construct a structure or monument, either alone or with other stones) that’s spread over the ancient Breton landscape. Oh the joys of retirement!

Let me attempt to summarise what’s known and what’s not about these structures. There are over 3,000 of these stone megaliths scattered around north-western Brittany. Before radiocarbon dating was introduced in the mid 1970s. archaeologists thought they were raised by the Celts, but they were around 6,000 years out. We now know the structures were cut and moved into place around 7,000 years ago! This makes them the oldest megaliths in Western Europe. As an aside, the oldest in the world are currently understood to be at Gobekli Tepe in Turkey at 11,000 years old. Not heard of it? You wouldn’t be alone there…and yet the relative youngster of Stonehenge (5,019 years) has such strong brand recognition. Cultural politics in archaeology maybe?

So we paid our few euros of an admission fee and had a wander around one of the main sites at Locmariaquer. It was one of those spine tingling moments when you see something that just defies your understanding of the world.

Drawings showing the reconstructed carvings on the stones, now heavily weathered. All carvings were in relief (ie the stone around the images chipped away, a HUGE amount of work, demonstrating the importance of the stones)

The large grave measures 30 metres long, for just one person…who were they?

The cairn/grave now containing the ‘Table de Marchand’ (Merchant’s table) was reconstructed in the 1990s – prior to this the stones were used as a parking lot and the ancient ‘table’ used for picnics for hundreds of years!

Inside the ‘table’ and stone slabs are protected from the elements once again. Carvings can be seen on the back wall and ceiling, dating back 7,000 years

For instance, there sits four large chunks of rock that have been proven from the carvings on each to have once belonged to a single megalith. It weighs over 300 tonnes, and was somehow transported over ten kilometres of rolling hills and across rivers.

Various experiments have been carried out over the years to try and replicate moving large stones to prove it can be done using logs and levers. In one such proof of concept a bunch of students and willing tourists were able to move a 30 tonne stone. But 300 tonnes…not that I can find. Logs just dont work apparently with that weight. And of course there must have been a solution, or it wouldn’t be there. But I think perhaps its as much a mystery as to how a Neolithic society had developed such a complex social structure to engage the huge amount of labour it would have taken, and kept them fed, motivated and organised.

Catherine stands beside the pieces of the toppled rock – estimated to have fallen 6,000 years ago during an earthquake

A piece of research published in February this year has at least shed some light on the spread of megalithic structures in Western Europe. The study analysed over 2,400 radio carbon ratings of megalithic structures across Europe and demonstrated that they spread up and down the then coasts of the Atlantic and Mediterranean, presumably from the initiative of a single seafaring culture.

We have still much to understand about how this “cognitive revolution” (as Yuval Harari calls it in his book “Sapiens”) took place. What prompted such a huge acceleration of social and technical competence in a relative short period of time? Homo Sapiens had been pottering around with basic stone tools for nearly 2 million years, then all of a sudden everything changes dramatically. Why? What was the impetus to this rapid development? Intrigued? Well I am…

Locmariaquer is a pretty seaside village, giving our first sight of the ocean since Croatia

Cobbled streets and blue and white accompany the fresh sea air

We feel Locmariaquer would be a great place to stop a while…but sadly there are no good sounding campsites

So we headed off to find a camp for the night and drove along the coast to an oyster farm in the village of Carnac we had seen listed on the France Passion scheme we belong to. Basically you can park up for free in return for tasting their produce.

We call in at the Alignments de Carnac on the way to our France Passion…there are literally thousands of these stones lined up in fields. What do they mean?

So we roll up and park up in front of this fabulous view across the bay, and go and buy ourselves two dozen of the local oysters, for the very good price of under €10. Now they were pretty nice, but I have to say Sydney Rock oysters take some beating! Perhaps we just been trained over the years to appreciate that creamy flavour. These were a little saltier, and went well with a crisp Italian white from Le Marche. We’re feeling particularly fortunate tonight to have this new view out of Truffy’s window.