Douarenenez

This impossible to spell place was a stop for 4 nights. Our approach was via the Valley of the Saints, mentioned by a Tripadvisor member and well worth the detour, though I might mention it is more hilltop than valley. Many artists in stone have carved out huge figures of various saints, most of them local and most of them unknown to me, and placed them around a beautiful meadow covered hilltop. I took much joy in the meadow, covered in buttercups and daisies, as I have been taking in the road edges with swathes of daisies, pink flowered grasses, buttercups and dandelions and even the occasional poppy. I find the countryside ordered and calm, with fields of wheat, controlled trees and only occasional forests.

Local countryside, ordered and tended

Meadow flowers

So this is what we experienced with some of the saints. The actual workshop and shop were closed so we couldn’t purchase a poster of the saints. Some will have to remain mysterious. Just enjoy them for what they are and remember they are about twice life size, and that any one of them would happily grace a church.

St Anne	St Ronan	Hillside of saints
St Gwenn	Saint	Another saint

We passed the town of Cast and saw a lovely old church and granite cross, so decided to stop. The inside was Romanesque, the confessional dated 1790. I guess sins were confessed right back then too.

Into Douarenenez which was a town which made its wealth from canning sardines brought in by the local fishermen. Sardines have declined in number now and the canning is sparse, but once they lined up to deliver their catches. The streets are narrow and crooked, often one-way, and had me leaning sideways in the car as if to do that would avoid making contact with walls or barriers. Luckily we came through unscathed.

The hotel was a tall, pretty, old building near the Sablons Blancs, apparently used by artists in the past, including Picasso. One of our more expensive stays but a beautiful room and a light filled breakfast/dining room. It also has an indoor pool and some spa treatments, for which the area is quite famous these days, and is almost on the coastal walk. http://www.hoteltymad.com/ 

Our objective here was rest, nice dining and exploring the wild west coastline of Brittany. We drove through these small white stone houses like Cornwall or Ireland and found we were in an area called Ouest Cournouille (pronounced west Cornwall). First, Baie des Trepasses or Bay of the Dead, complete with German fortifications again and the incongruous hotels which seem positioned to catch the fiercest of Atlantic gales. But we had almost nice weather and I could see the beach and sundeck might be well attended some days.

Baie des Trepasses and one hotel

The very Cornish architecture

Then to Point du Raz, the most westerly point of France. Surprisingly, it was well organised with a tourist centre, shops and cafes and a delightful walk (or even a navette) out to the point. The rock formations were stunning and the currents past the point quite dramatic on even a calm and sunny day. Many lighthouses and beacons attribute to the dangers of the area. A visit out to Point de Penhir showed a monument to the French. Again a very precipitous coast.

Treacherous currents past Point du Raz

A weird insect sac and its caterpillers on the track out

Point de Penhir rocks

We returned via a supposed megalithic site. One was carefully cemented into place and lacked a certain authenticity. The dolmen nearby may or may not have been authentic:it certainly was impressive.

“Restored” dolmen and grave site

Maybe a real dolmen

We visited Point d’Espargnes with old forts but they were very overgrown and a bit of a disappointment.
The next day we visited the highest point around, Menez Hom,  and enjoyed the view and the insouciant way the parasailers took to the air with just a step or two into the wind.

View from Menez Hom

Lift off

Later we passed an alignment at Lagatjar, with the stones set upright again in 1928

 

We much  enjoyed our visit to Locronan, shrine of St Ronan who is unknown in Australia. The village is a Plus Belle Village, very popular with tourists, but a charming church with an older one attached and streetscapes of old houses made it a lovely stop. It was a bit of a surprise to find an Australian bottlebrush and a Geraldton Wax in full flower. They belong on the sandy west coast of Australia.

Old interior

Lovely external side porch

We had at some stage intended to stay at Huelgoat, so we visited to see what we had missed (or not). It was a most charming town on a small lake. Several cafes and restaurants were on offer, some lovely walks among boulders and along the stream and a market in the town when we arrived. Really very pleasant and perhaps a good base. A week may have been too long for us.

Eating around Douarenenez was not fantastic. We had several OK meals but I have to say that the dining room at the Best Western Thalasso was very good; close to fine dining with a maitre d’ who knew how to run a dining room. When we had a small complaint about a course, he not only insisted on rectification but also comped us two glasses of dessert wine. And the price was very reasonable; we paid more for lesser ambience and food the next night.
Tomorrow: Rochefort

Cancale

Ah, place of oysters, and oysters, and oysters. Sigh! Yum!
We arrived via the coast road past Mt St Michel so I could get photos over the grass and wheat fields to the Mont. All good except the weather which was dull and cloudy. We waited ages for just a little sun.

We were booked at Mere Champlain http://www.lamerechamplain.com/ which hadn’t been very responsive to our booking and emails, so I sort of feared the worst. But all was good; a room overlooking the bay, a menu within the realm of reasonable which also included oysters of course and even an elevator to get us to the room. very friendly and approachable staff as well.  All was good! Even free parking if one was prepared to park at the memorial high above the town. Great to get down from, not so easy to get back to. We wandered the rather touristy front checking out menus and shops and decided on Mere Champlain for dinner, including a dozen oysters for me.

Tide in Panorama

Tide out Panorama

Pier, tide in	Same boats, tide out
Oyster beds at low tide	The oyster tents where they sell the oysters

Next morning was the Cancale to Mt St Michel marathon so we woke to enthusiastic spruiking and hordes of people in fluorescent garb warming up on the seafront. Also heaps of men standing facing the sea. Salute to the sun perhaps? Well, actually, they were peeing on the sands and those sands weren’t going to be cleaned by tides again for at least 6 hours. And kids played there after the race had departed. Well done guys! What do you think the multiple pissoirs were for? And they were closer than the beach. Maybe you need to mark your territory? Anyway, they all made off a little ahead of time, a multicoloured caterpillar up the hill towards Mt St Michel, the portaloos and pissoirs were removed tout de suite and then all was quiet again.

Blokes (and one girl)

The race up the first hill

For us, a trip to St Malo, heavily bombed in the war and defiantly rebuilt. A really touristed place this Sunday with families on the ramparts and in the streets and cafes. We enjoyed the ramparts and views to the shore forts, (including one by Vauban, master fort builder) had a lovely seafood lunch, bought some gifts for grandchildren, viewed a local replica ship and came back to Cancale again. It was actually a very pleasant day, but not of any consequence.

St Malo city walls	The Vauban fort
Making a seafood platter	A swimming pool in the bay

 

For dinner I ordered a seafood plate of 6 no 3 oysters, 6 plate oysters (rare and expensive local delicacies) and 6 ecrevisse. I can say that the plate oysters were delicious but not as good as a Sydney rock oysters, and that ecrivisse are deliciously sweet but extracting the flesh from the claws is a waste of time. I got about one half teaspoon from 6 ecrivisse claws. Don’t bother.

 

Some of my oysters and ecrivisse

‘ Mirrored boat

 

Next stop: Douarenenez

Vitre

This is a small town with a fascinating chateau and town walls. On the way we detoured to Villedieu-les-Poeles to visit the bell foundry which cast the Peace Bell for Bayeux (and is currently casting a sister bell). The town itself is famous for its copper pans, the <<poeles>> of the name. I could have bought some, at very great expense and considerable weight. All kudos to my sister who bought a whole set in France years ago and shipped them home.

Bell in courtyard	Decorations using lost wax casting
Bells in pit ready for pouring	A new bell, tuned and polished

The foundry still uses the age old techniques, some of which involve goat hair and cow dung mixed in clay, and the same metal composition as has always been used to make their bells. The mould has to be constructed to produce a hollow form complete with words and decorations (using the lost wax process) and the bell, no matter its size, must be fully poured in 3 minutes or the metal may begin to solidify. It involves both heavy physical work and artistic skills. Afterwards, the bell is perfectly tuned by “gently” grinding the inside with an angle grinder (not so traditional). The outside may be sandblasted to make a silvery look, or treated with various compounds to create golden or darker hues. In time any bell will become dark and a little green.

It was pouring rain today. We went on to Granville, a city on the sea, but while we overlooked the harbour as we ate a light lunch, it wasn’t weather conducive to exploration. We did see a few of those grim German bunkers on top of the hill.

In Vitre things were no better. We had chosen a small, traditional French hotel, Le Petit Billot. Madame was gregarious and charming, happy to point out all the things we should see. But it was wet and cold and I was unwell, so I put myself to bed and Nick dined alone. In the morning the weather was slightly better and we could look around.

The town is loaded with streets of medieval, half timbered houses and people live and work in them. This is not a museum town or particularly a tourist town; though there are many empty shops in the medieval core there are also lots of residences in surrounding suburbs and the place is full of business people during the day.

Ancient half-timbered houses	Porch houses
A street of houses, still lived in	An old hotel

The beautiful old Benedictine abbey church seems now to be the parish church and they are renovating some of the monastery nearby. It was odd in that the choir (altar and surrounds) is at an angle to the nave, something it is difficult to show in photographs. The nave ceiling is a gorgeous ship’s keel wooden type.

The abbey	Nave, looking to the organ
The off centre choir	Glass in the choir

The drawpiece is the chateau, restored by a disciple of Viollet le Duc and absolutely huge. The pointy rooves may not be original but it is as faithful a renovation as possible around the turn of last century. One vast section is now the Town Hall, the castle itself is contiguous with the city walls and it is a remarkable place to visit.

The chateau from the vast square in front	The main tower
Part of the town from the tower	The city walls
One fireplace with Nick as a measuring stick	Another vast fireplace; oh those heating bills

While we visited a few other places such as the Chapel of St Nicholas, photos were not allowed. It housed regional church treasures and some, such as the art deco chalice, were very beautiful indeed.

The next morning we dropped into the Chateau of Madame Sevigny, famed for her letters to her daughter. She seemed to prefer living at this rather small and countrified chateau. We were disappointed in the visit. We could only walk in part of the gardens and grounds, and while they had good bones, they were not well presented, with flower borders very sparse and parterre patterns marked by swathes cut in the grass. We couldn’t access the front of the building as that is now part of a golf course. Disappointing!

Chateau of Madam Sevigny

The bare gardens and the reverse side of the chateau

 

Tomorrow: Cancale (and Lynn gets her feeds of oysters)