Tapp's Travels

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This year, we have agreed a policy of staying at campsites we haven’t visited before.  With three repeat sites already this trip, you would be forgiven for not recognising this plan!  However, we have another opportunity to hit new ground in Brittany.  We have selected what we understood to be a smallish, eco-friendly site a few kilometres north of Vannes.  We “normally” stay on the south side of the Gulf of Morbihan.  This time we are going to try out the opposite bank.  The extensively named “Camping le Morbihan la Fontaine de Hallate” in Plougoumelen sounds right up our street.  From the south, this can be approached via Ploeren with, as we discovered, millions of speed bumps, traffic calming measures and very narrow, constricted roads in the village.  This was followed by miles of single track country roads.  “This isn’t the best way, Barry!”

The site was indeed very “eco”.  With pretty gardens.  But it was much bigger than we had imagined. Very spread out.  It was also very shady.  Too dark for us.  So, change of plans.  We could try a couple of other sites nearby.  Or we could revisit Sarzeau.  Sites we are not familiar with and not even sure how to get to from our current location vs known location, known facilities, knowledge of shading levels – comfortable.  10 km onwards via twiddly roads vs 40 km backwards on dual carriageway.  I think Glenda might have favoured the new and unexpected.  I was keen just to get settled.  I could see the “unexpected” turning swiftly into a “We’re not staying here, Barry” sort of situation.

On balance, we decided to head back south, but to do this and avoid the horrible approach we made half an hour ago, we had to go a bit northwards before turning right on the main road.  A quick call to the Ferme de Lann Hoedic to confirm they had a nice pitch available and we were off!

The site, which we have used several times before, turned out to be much less busy than we have ever seen it.  We were spoilt for choice!  In the end we settled for a large open pitch in the second section.  Mireille (the owner) thought the lack of campers was all to do with the French elections.  Personally, I think the recent miserable, wet and cold weather rampant in this part of France for weeks might have been a contributing factor!  The site did fill up a bit while we were there, but only slowly.  And mainly with French campers.  We’ve never seen so few Brits here.  Maybe that’s because we are a week or two later on site than usual.  They’ve all gone home to take advantage of the heat wave affecting the UK – and to watch the football!  Oh and to vote – I almost forgot!

Here we are, established in a virtually empty part of the site.

The weather wasn’t wet, just cool.  Blooming freezing, actually.  But good for walking – except Glenda’s foot was getting sore – plantar fasciitis setting in, maybe?  We walked a section of the coast path leading into St Jaques only to discover that it was their market day.  The roast chickens look appealing.  Change of plans.  Back to the caravan for a hot chicken lunch!  We have noticed that the price of food in France, especially meat and fruit, has rocketed in the last couple of years.  No more so than in Brittany where the rotisserie chicken cost us an eye-watering €25!

It’s really hard to make comparisons.  Every meal is different.  But I would say that the lunch we might have bought in Spain for about €15 (including a bottle of wine) was €20 – 25 in the SW of France rising to more than €30 in Brittany excluding any drinks!  Even our favourite eatery in Sarzeau has changed ownership and hiked their price by at least 50%.  While it used to be difficult to find reasonably priced meals on the Presqu’ile de Rhuys (where we are now), I’d venture to say it’s now virtually impossible!  I’m going to have to get the BBQ out of the car and work out how to use it!

In the meantime, we tried the crèperie on the campsite (two young lads in the site’s small kitchen, four nights a week).  Very acceptable cheese and ham galette with Glenda sticking to her balanced diet!

The Ile de Tascon can be walked to at low tide.  There is a neat little car park right at the water’s edge.  But a kilometre back up the road from St Armel, the local authorities have put up big signs to say during Summer, only locals and deliveries are allowed.  The alternative car park is another kilometre further away.  So, like an obedient tourist, I dropped Glenda off at the barrier to walk while I found a spot at which to abandon the car.  A passing local just laughed at me and said the restrictions only apply in Summer.  “It’s only the first week in July.  You can drive to the causeway.”  So I did.  Picking up Glenda on the way.  As we’ve noted before, the peak season is not a long season in France!

To be fair, there isn’t much to do on Tascon Island.  A little side walk to a really tiny island with a patch of sea lavender and that was it.

Off to one of our favourite spots.  On the way to Le Passage.  Chairs out of the car for a spot of sunbathing while the tide comes in and cuts off the four residents of Tascon from all known expensive restaurants for several hours!

That’s Tascon in the back ground.

Brittany is littered with ancient stone structures.  Standing stones as can be seen famously at Carnac.  Then there are other more complex “constructed” dolmens.  This part of the continent is littered with them.

There are dozens on the peninsula.  And there are said to be heaps more on the larger islands in the gulf.  Obelix, of Obelix and Asterix fame, must have lived near here!

Some of them look just like tables and benches!

We walked round the “Corniche Promenade” at the tip of the peninsula at Arzon.  The tide was going out – fast.  The catamarans were shooting out of the Gulf at lightning speed.

One of the ferries in Port Navalo taking cyclists out to the islands to inspect the megaliths.  Another day we went to Suscinio (also known locally as Susinioù) to make sure the castle was still there!

It was and so were the wading birds in the salt marshes behind the beach below the castle.  This time there was no sign of spoonbills, but there were hundreds of avocets – as common as ducks!  There was also a pair of extremely long-legged waders.  It looked like they were walking on stilts:

Aptly named black winged stilts!

Time for a visit to the city of Vannes.  We’ve been here before, but not recently.  Easy parking underground close to the middle of town near the Arts Centre.  The Place de la Mairie and the city hall face the pedestrianised streets of the old town.

A gentle walk through these narrow streets towards the cathedral.

Past all the medieval, half-timbered houses …

… and some not so ancient, but architecturally, still very interesting buildings.

… to the Cathédral St Pierre.

We ended the visit sitting by the port, watching a stream of yachts setting sail.  I guess they were all aiming to catch the ebbing tide out of the Gulf.

On our last day in the area we revisited Penvins and walked round the promontory.  Past the chapel, the Chapelle-Notre-Dame-de-la-Côte.

We appear to be in a FRAIRIE!  You can learn something new every day (the problem is, remembering it the next day!).

A frairie is a subdivision of a parish, which appeared in the Middle Ages and which survived until the French Revolution.  They were very frequent in the duchy of Brittany.  Basically, a tiny collection of rural houses.  Often the locals got together and built their own chapel.  This appears to be one such micro-church.

Our time in France is rapidly drawing to a close.  We timed our departure from Sarzeau superbly.  There is a lovely restaurant with a massive carpark half way to Roscoff.  We phoned ahead to reserve and had an animated discussion with their answerphone.  We arrived at the perfect time to discover they were “Exceptionally closed on the 6 July”.  No reason.  Just closed.  Don’t you just love it when a carefully selected plan falls to pieces!  So it’ll be an improvised meal in the caravan tonight!

In line with the “different-places-to-stay” policy we decided to try an alternative site near Roscoff.  Camping Ar Rock is a small site about 20 minutes to the West of the port.  Down some very narrow lanes.  Overlooking the sea.  Rather small pitches.  We were just wandering around selecting our best option when the PA system in the little bar burst into activity with loud music.  “How long does that racket go on?”  “Well, we have a licence till 1 am!”  “We’re not staying here Barry!”  So  back through the lanes.  It’ll be a night on the docks with not quite enough water!

But very convenient for the morning!  The car next to us had somehow got a flat battery.  The breakdown truck arrived at 10 pm.  But apart from that it was very peaceful!  The Pont Aven duly arrived and we slid aboard.

Looking back – it’s been a really good holiday.  Even though we did have a leaky water pump at the outset; a mega deviation in the Picos Mountains; 14 hairpins up to the camp at Urbasa; an ant Invasion near Dausse; lots of mud and gunge in Cognac le Forêt; trouble with lightning at Doué; dodgy sites and closed restaurants all over the place – to name but a few of the more “challenging” bits!  All part of life’s rich pattern!

You might be forgiven for thinking that was the end of our trials and tribulations…

Towing home, we found the main road outside Totnes closed (fermée!).  There had been a nasty accident some six hours previously.  Two pedestrians in hospital.  Seventy three police officers at the site surveying the scene.  But NOT doing any traffic control.  None whatsoever.  No deviations indicated.  There is only one alternative route to Totnes (short of returning to the A38 and getting home via Newton Abbot  – possibly an hour diversion!).  It’s a narrow country lane.  Less than a mile!  Suffice it to say that after an hour and a half of fairly challenging manoeuvres, we emerged back on the road some 500 m beyond the road block.  Via a lane signposted as unsuitable for vehicles over 6 foot 6 inches wide.  In the last 20 m we had to get round the end wall of a cottage.  No problem, we had at least half an inch to spare.  Actually, neither of us really knows how the caravan escaped without injury!  With hindsight, the long deviation via Newton Abbot would have been ideal!  And quicker!

By the way, we have discovered Devon’s “speed bumps”.  Locally, they are called pot-holes!

So there you have it.  On this trip we have driven almost 3,000 miles, of which we towed the caravan 1,242 miles. (Overall, we have hauled it 25,212 miles in the ten years since we bought it!)  This tour brings our total nights spent in this caravan to 925.

Now we have to repack the van.  We are off to Dorset at the end of next week!