Brittany – the east

We had last been to Brittany (Bretagne) way back in 2007, loved it but only spent about a week in the region so it seemed the perfect place to concentrate the ‘rural’ part of our French adventure.

Brittany is the traditional homeland of the Breton people and is one of the six Celtic nations, retaining a distinct cultural identity that reflects its history. Like the Basque people in Spain, a nationalist movement seeks greater autonomy within the French Republic, or independence from it and we saw many black and white Breton flags displayed whilst in the area.

We caught the high speed TGV train from Paris to Nantes as that was the closest pick up point for our lease car and by lunch time I was familiarising myself with driving on the ‘right’ side of the road in our brand new Citroen C5 aircross which had seven kilometres on the clock 😍

Our first Gîte was situated in Saint-Suliac about two hours drive away to the eastern side of Brittany and a short distance from the larger and better known Saint Malo, (especially if any of you have read the book or watched the film All the Light You Cannot See.)

We made it unscathed and then found our nearest supermarché for provisions.

Our cottage was located at the top of a hill (Mont Garrot) overlooking the village of Saint-Suliac which sits on the banks of the impressive River Rance. The river is over 100 kms long and coincidentally we had stayed on its banks in another village (Dinan) seventeen years ago! The tidal variance in this region is the largest in Europe (can be up to fourteen metres and typically during our stay was around eight) so our views changed remarkably from deep mud channels to almost an inland sea depending on the tide.

It was a perfect spot to relax after Paris and well situated for many day trips in the region.

Very fortuitously we had arrived just in time for the weekend Fête de la Coquille Saint-Jacques – basically the Festival of the Scallop! The scallop industry is huge in Brittany, highly regulated and the end of April marks the end of the season so each year a few coastal villages take it in turn to host this prestigous event. This year it was the turn of Paimpol and we had a delightful afternoon experiencing our first scallop festival.

Huge quantities of scallops were changing hands as no more fresh ones will be available again until October and we saw many people walking out hoisting a sac over their shoulder.

Over the coming days we explored much of the Emerald Coast, reacquainted ourselves with beautiful Saint Malo and walked many kilometres. The wildflowers are absolutely profuse along the coast, from golden gorse (I know, a pest back home…) to bluebells, various different purple flowers, yellow buttercups and many others I have seen but can’t name, more of those in latter posts.

Gorse in full bloom

Cancale – oyster capital
Plévenon (reminded me of the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland)

We stumbled across the fascinating Sculptured Rocks of Rothéneuf. Abbé Adolphe-Julien Fouré, a priest from the nearby village is the man behind this incredible, carved cliff. After suffering a stroke at the age of 55, which left him both deaf and mute, he left his post as a priest and returned to Rothéneuf and started creating sculptures, many out of the coastal rock. He spent the last 15 years of his life—from approximately 1894 to 1910—alone, creating these rugged masterpieces over a 550 square metre area.

The day we visited Saint Malo it was low tide – miles of sand exposed, walkways to tiny off shore islands topped by ruined fortifications and plenty of rockpools for the more adventurous to explore.

It is hard to believe that this beautiful walled city was almost totally destroyed by Allied bombing in the latter stages of WWII and then totally rebuilt between 1948 – 1960.

On another day we wandered down through fields to our village and explored the tiny ruettes (paths) between houses before finding a nice lunch spot and having a cider served in the traditional cider cup 😉

On Anzac Day we visited the stunning Fort La Latte, a chateau dating back to the 13th century, now home to a family and location of many film and TV series albeit mostly French ones unknown to us.

With picnic tables scarcer than you would have thought, (but not quite as elusive as public toilets 😉) we made do with the front seat for a cup of tea and a couple of Russell’s yummy Anzac biscuits.

And one morning we woke up to this…. I actually emailed the guy but never got a reply. Probably a good thing for the budget anyway 😊

Before we knew it our week was at an end and we were trying to compress a few days worth of essentials into a smaller carry bag for our next adventure…. the ferry to Guernsey.

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