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50 Shades of Breton Blues
.. entrance way to our Tower House lodgingsListen – what’s that sound of gnashing metal and whining cogs. Well it could be Peter at the wheel of the rental car getting reacquainted with driving on the other side of the road (fortunately this was not the case). In reality it is the supernova shift in gear as we arrive on the train from Paris into Quimper to start our Brittany adventures. Deep breath, release slowly, and into a very much slower pace of life in this extremely cute little town with its lichen covered walls and plants sprouting from every nook and cranny. After a bit of a wait at the station for a taxi to appear (things are a bit slow here indeed) we continue the cute theme as we install ourselves in our new lodgings – the tower suite; way posh! - in a small side street in the old town. The B&B is in a lovely old house and our room links into a small tower on the top of the building. Very atmospheric indeed, with stone walls and exposed beams aplenty, although it does have the downside of limited head room in parts – limited even for us who are not giants by any
A River Runs Through it
... well two rivers actually in Quimper stretch of the imagination. The place does have a bit of a Hobbit-like feel about it; warm and woody, rounded doors, the beams and stone walls – nice.
Quimper is on the junction of two rivers, with one running directly through the old town which enhances the cute factor even more. And the street signs are written in both French and Breton, with lots of the local shops playing traditional Breton music based around a pairing of the biniou (a type of local bagpipe) and bombard (a type of oboe), giving the town quite a mediaeval feel. The region is in fact celtic music revival central, and in July there is a massive interceltic music festival in nearby Lorient.
And the town has a permanent market which is supplemented by a farmers’ market (the original pop-up concept) every Wednesday and Saturday, and the local stars here are the universe of edible sea creatures. Oysters – not just one or two, but 12 Grand Crus (yep they classify them just like wines) of oyster. Then there are crabs, aquatic snails (big and small), lobsters, clams, mussels, and scallops, both the conventional St Jacques type and some miniature ones called
Oyster Aftermath
... Grand Cru oyster smackdown palourdes which seem quite the local specialty. There are multiple stalls selling these in one relatively small market, and all of them look fabulous. And as well as the shellfish there is a dizzying variety of fish, some recognisable and others part of the local fishy lexicon, including ray wings which we have only occasionally seen in Spain.
To avoid this becoming solely an intellectual exercise we head off for dinner to check the quality of the local offerings, and we are certainly not disappointed. Some serious damage is done to a plate of fresh oysters. Scallops appear in a variety of dishes - grilled as brochettes with vegetables, and cooked in seafood stews - and in such generous portions as if they are very common and taken for granted locally (which they may well be from what we saw in the markets). There are a number of fish dishes that are prepared with the other local specialty of cider, similar to Asturias in Spain.
However it’s not all about the food (really!!) and so we have also taken ourselves out of town and further west – towards the edge of the world (Finistère) – on a day
Locronan Town Square
.. more bold than beautiful trip along the coast. First port of call was Locronan, apparently classified (according to the sign at the entrance to the town) as one of the prettiest towns in Europe (big call indeed). It is indeed quaint, and has been used as a setting for a number of films, including Polanski’s version of Tess of the d’Urbervilles. However as you might guess given its choice for Hardy’s work, its beauty is of a more rugged kind. Lichen covered granite buildings around a central town square with a mediaeval church do make for a striking scene, with a day of alternating showers and sunshine (the nearness of the Atlantic is very evident in the weather) amplifying its ruggedness despite the wisteria trailing over various buildings. Above a door in one of the buildings is a cautionary sign about the height (or lack of) of the entry, reminding us that this is no country for tall men (similar to our room in Quimper).
From Locronan it’s on to the coast, and the showery/sunny day frames the ocean and cliffs perfectly. Pointe Millier is very atmospheric with its granite sawtooth cliffs, surging sea and showers scudding in waves across the bays. And
OH&S Warning Breton-style
.... no country for tall men in the middle of all this small flowers bloom in profusion across the heathlands that run right up to the cliffs’ edges. They are certainly low growing - which is an advantage for their survival as we have trouble standing in a couple of places with the strength of the wind gusts – but a triumph of tenacity to create such beauty in this harsh environment. Our next stop is Pointe de Van and the scenery here actually eclipses our next port of call (and originally our prime destination for the day) Pointe de Raz. Again rugged cliff tops covered in a profusion of wildflowers and surging waves on jagged rocks, however what really catches the eye is the swirl of whitecap waves several hundred metres off shore and around the small islands dotted along the coast. The ocean looks absolutely treacherous and the number of lighthouses and warning beacons attest to this.
Our subsequent days are spent exploring the narrow alley ways of Quimper, and visiting its cathedral, excellent Breton life museum, and famous faience (hand decorated ceramics) museum. And of course we continue to stage a (losing) battle on the creatures of the sea; is it possible
Pointe Millier
... splendid isolation to become tired of fresh oysters, and will we come to treat scallops as if they are chicken nuggets – we are yet to find out.
Which brings us to the time to again pack our bags and start to re-trace our westward path, beginning with an hour long train ride back to Vannes, our next Breton stop en route back to Paris. So until we next write from Vannes we, like the locals, continue to wait for the arrival of spring despite the fact that it is almost summer and wish you ....
Bon {insert whatever activity you may care to, here} nos amis
Peter & Dianne
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Julie N
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Love the hobbit Housing
What were the planning controls?