17 SARZEAU AND HOME
I guess this will the last missive in this series. I’m sure you will be delighted to hear this news! Ecstatic, even! Unless we miss the ferry, of course!
Yesterday we did indeed find another shady spot to read our books. To be fair, it wasn’t new to us. We’d admired the slow ebb and flood of the tide over the flats from this vantage point in previous years. Before settling down we managed a couple of miles around the mini-peninsula. The coast path took us past The Passage. This hamlet is well described by it’s name sitting, as it does, on the narrowest point between the North and South coasts of the Gulf. There is a small foot-ferry which crosses the passage. It has “variable” hours of operation so we have never ventured to cross. It would be a hell of a walk back around the eastern end of the Gulf should Monsieur Le Ferry-Homme decided to knock off for a four hour lunch-break or worse still, go home early!
The Passage and nearby islet
While we were reading our books I was keeping a discreet watch on the score in the England vs Sweden World Cup quarter-finals. In fact, we got home in time to see the last 10 minutes of the game. Apparently it’s been 28 years since we made the semis and of course nearly 260 years since we won the competition! Keep dreaming!
We had planned to take our chairs and a bottle of wine down to the beach for the “last of the evening sun”. (I think we could consider making a TV show by that name!) But in the event, we spent the time chatting with some OSPs. Hilton and Liz from Lyme Regis and Guitar Mick and Pam from Birmingham.
We woke early on Sunday morning (05.30) with a plan to walk more of the coastal path in the cool. Well, one of us did! I was all for staying asleep for a bit. In the event, by mid-morning, the full walk around the Brissac headland was going to be too long and too hot so we did half and retreated to the car. The village of Brissac is another pretty little place on the gulf shore. It comes complete with its own in-town menhir and lots of Hollyhocks.
Walking around Brissac complete with menhir.
After, we headed to St Jacques for a coffee on the beach. Since our last visit, the road along the sea-front has been narrowed, the parking restricted (from maybe 70 spaces to five) and the cafes gentrified (along with their prices!). At least the local officials have managed to avoid Club Micky installations on the plages! And they have added a couple of off-street car parks. So, well done for that!
The beach at St Jaques
The problem locally looks far more to do with second homes. I would say that in some places un-occupied houses account for 95-100% of the accommodation. And, bearing in mind we are now in the second week of July, it must be absolutely deserted in Winter.
It was so hot that we retreated to the beach after starting a walk from St Jaques towards St Guildas de Rhuys. We must have got all of 100 metres before turning the expedition into a theoretical one! This could be controlled from our deck chairs while lounging in the shade on St Jaques’ prom! And as we are well into multi-tasking, we were able to read our books and eat ice-creams at the same time.
Our “walk” at St Jaques.
All was peaceful until about 100 members of the Rhuys Peninsula Rambling Club stopped at our lookout to go for a paddle, have a packed lunch, take a breather, play a game of Scrabble, catch up on the day’s gossip… (in various combinations and orders). In the late afternoon (our last of this trip) we relocated yet again. This time to our “local” beach as it was so hot. There was a pair of us sheltering under a golfing umbrella attached to Glenda’s chair – trying to look and feel cool. Several swims in the sea helped with the latter – especially as I was wearing my recently purchased “budgie smugglers”. Delightful! I mean the beach and swim were delightful, clearly! We stayed almost until sunset as the temperature plummeted to a pleasant 20ish degrees.
That brings us to today. Monday. Ferry Day. Obviously we were going to start early and drive non-stop to Roscoff. Where we would join the queue in poll position. Obviously! Well, we got moving by about 9 am which wasn’t at all bad for us. And, apart from a little tension on the N165 round Vannes when the traffic came to a standstill. The emergency services were removing a car which appeared to have rolled over in the outside lane. A bit of panic consideration about a detour by the navigator proved un-necessary as there was no exit before the accident. Luckily only a 10 minute delay.
We decided not to stop at the cafe where last year we dillied and dallied long enough to extend our stay by a day. However, we needed a coffee and spotted a closed, dormant looking place – Le Relais des Montagnes Noires – on the side of the road north from Lorient. Sadly, the coffee was cold and they had no hot milk. However, they did have a very attractive lunch which was starting in half an hour. Sadly, we don’t really have a spare 30 minutes. However, le patron said he’d get cooking immediately for a quick lunch!
Our last buffet starters of the trip.
Well, it would have been churlish to decline – so we didn’t! Another multi-component buffet for starters. Then a choice of steak, guinea fowl or loup de mer followed by cheese and a choice of desserts. Unlimited wine and coffee were included for the bargain price of €13. This reduced our time at The Red Bus (wine shop) to 15 minutes – but at least we made the ferry queue on time.
So there you have it! Le tour de France (and Spain and Portugal). The sea was flat calm again and the crossing very routine. Nobody fell overboard – although the clown got close to being thrown over the rails for his bad jokes. Only one car – a Range Rover – hobbled off the ferry at Plymouth with its tyre removed from the rim – presumably by one of the truck anchoring points.
Home. Clearing up. Gardening. Washing. Mail. Appointments. Need another holiday already!
Our Route looked a bit like this! Obviously we didn’t go in straight lines though…
THE END