16 RETURNING TO BRITTANY
Just shows how many of you are keeping up with my messages! Did anyone notice that part 14 was missing? No one told me that they’d missed an important section of the story!
Well well…
It’s now Friday 6 July. Three more days to go – not four as we thought a few minutes ago. We temporarily lost the plot calendar-wise. We had sudden recollections of our journey into Brittany last year on the first Saturday of the French holidays. So we decided to get our skates on and head north. This year there was the added distraction of the Tour de France which is passing our last camp site near Coulon tomorrow. As we travelled we saw signs of disruption being planned for the next four days. The further north we went, the Tour fell progressively further into the distance.
Arriving in Sarzeau we discovered that our only escape road from the peninsula was to be closed for long enough on Tuesday for us to miss our ferry. Except we are due to sail on Monday. So if the cyclists make us miss the ferry, we’ve already missed it. I don’t want to sound paranoid, but missing the ferry one year makes me more cautious the next. Actually, to be honest, Glenda makes me more cautious all by herself!
We were warned before we set off that Sarzeau is hosting the French BMX National Championships this weekend. It’s going to be busy! We saw large temporary campsites on the outskirts of the town as we drove in. Hopefully, they will keep themselves to themselves and not clog up the roads.
Glenda has been really unwell today. We have no idea why. Bad backs, bugs in ears and snake bites have all been ruled out. There is a small matter of “pie of pecheurs” which contained bits of shells – but that was two days ago (and I’ll get back to our time in Coulon in a minute!). The only other thing that could be implicated was the half bottle of gin she consumed last night. But surely not!
Last Tuesday (having decided to delay one more day on our peaceful site at Rauzan) we went for a drive through the country a little to the south. There are ruined abbeys in the middle of nowhere and lots of little bastide towns to explore. Like Blasimon and Sauveterre de Guyenne. The former so small the exploration only took minutes and the latter had diesel – excellent. Beautiful rolling vine-covered countryside round here – all very peaceful. Very relaxing.
At 11.55 am we rolled into a deserted restaurant – L’Auberge de Saint Jean Baptiste. “Can we have coffee at this hour?” “Of course!” said our ever-smiling waiter. So we did. But we looked indoors and the buffet starters and desserts looked so good we discussed staying for lunch – as we do whenever and where ever the opportunity presents!
In the five minutes we deliberated, the car park in front of us filled. Orange-trousered-white-van-men, local businessmen in suits and groups of ladies-who-dine trouped into the resto. OK. Good enough. We are joining them! The buffet starters had 27 different options (I counted them!) hot and cold. There were prawns and crabs, cockles and palourdes, meat and patés as well as salads and fruits. Horrible – you wouldn’t have enjoyed it! Mains of pork and fish were followed by the dessert buffet. But how to choose? Smiling Jean came up with the answer. “Have several – four or five if you want!” I like a really sensible solution! All that lot plus half a litre of local rosé for under €14. Bargain. It’s still possible to find them in France but you have to look for them – or be lucky!
Starter plate and dessert buffet at L’Auberge de St Jean Baptiste
Wednesday dawned a bit iffy weather-wise. A good travelling day. We drove north to Coulon and the Venise Verte camp ground to meet up with John and Freda for yet another birthday celebration meal at Restaurant de L’Écluse that evening. Doing nothing very much is an art-form we are really getting into the swing of.
The next morning we had a lovely walk into Coulon along the canal watching all the tourists in punts and boats wending their way through the network of waterways that give the name to our campsite. Coffee at J & F’s “local” cafe with Jerome (how he makes a living is beyond us – just six coffees in an hour!) was followed by lunch in town at La Pigouille and the “Pie de pecheurs” which was later implicated as a possible cause of “problèmes digestifs”.
Coulon and its canals
So back to Brittany. Mireille had reserved us a place – but one with no shade at all. So we elected to change to one in the “A” sector which the frequent campers call “the Cemetery”! Or is it “the Council Estate”? I get the monicas for areas A and D confused. Anyway, we didn’t consider just how close pitch A1 is to the reception buildings and in particular to the TV room. Yes! And this afternoon / evening France and Belgium were playing football! Bad mistake! Still we knew the scores without leaving the van! It’s our turn to play today when we take on Sweden! I guess it will be equally noisy.
This morning after a slow start, we headed to Eric’s bakery and coffee shop in Saint Armel. We went armed with marmalade to add to Eric’s croissants. Eric is as gay as they come and has the wonderful ability to welcome everyone, including us, as if he remembered us from last year. However, by the time we got there he had sold out of croissants! Chips! So our marmalade was spread onto half a baguette – not the same but it used up the marmalade!
There are two cafes in this little village. There’s Eric’s pad and another the far side of the church. There’s nothing else in town. Two cafes and a church. Oh, and a little school in the back lanes. Our “local” place is always heaving. There is almost always a queue from the bread and pastries counter stretching out the door. The coffee counter is also a hive of activity. On the other hand, I don’t think we have ever seen a customer at cafe number two. It’s probably owned by someone called Jerome!
St Armel is situated on the Gulf of Morbihan. The lane that runs past the school meets the gulf at a tiny carpark right at the water’s edge beside a lovely picnic ground. There is just room for four cars. Well now we are here, there are only three spaces.
The view looking over the water is magnificent. The Île Tascon which can only be reached on foot at low tide is floating in front of us. The sun is shining. It’s a busy Saturday morning (well, afternoon actually!) at the start of the summer holidays in a tourist area and we are all alone. Just like sunny Devon – I’m sure. We walked a couple of miles along the coastal path through the marais as far as the rapidly submerging causeway to Tascon and back and met just one dog with his owner in tow. It’s just SOOO quiet if you know where to pitch your collapsible chairs!
I think we are going to relocate to another shady waterside vantage point a couple of miles to the east to see if there are any other people on this peninsula! So I’m ending this here and will find a few photos to illustrate our recent travels…
And later, on the beach at Sarzeau… Last part to follow!