Recompression

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We write this entry from no fixed abode other than train seats 21&22 in Coach 19 of TGV 8612 as we are spirited across the countryside towards Paris. This journey marks the end of our time in Brittany, and brings with it an increasing awareness of the imminent end of our holiday, although we quickly dispel any such thoughts when they arise (yes, call it denial if you will). The massive sense of decompression that we experienced at Quimper in the far west of Brittany has been progressively reversed in each of our east bound staging points that bring us again closer to Paris.

Our first stop was Vannes, a town of similar size to Quimper but with a very different feel. While it too had an intriguing old town centre with half-timbered houses tilting at odd angles into narrow winding streets, it also boasted an impressive set of ramparts and a port. The ramparts make the town feel much grander in scale than Quimper, even though once inside them the old town centre is certainly no larger than Quimper’s and may even be a touch smaller (5 minutes walk side to side, 7 minutes walk top to bottom, we are told by our new hostess, Mme. Christine). The presence of a port also gives the town much more of a pleasure resort feel with lots of yachts moored and people lounging around in portside cafes at most hours of the day. This also means more high-end shops, including a number of international brands, resulting in it having more of a generic feel than Quimper with its strong sense of Breton self.

Differences also manifest in other ways. Quimper is in the region of Finisterre and very much linked to the rugged Atlantic coast while Vannes, in the region of Morbihan, connects to the (relatively more) tranquil southern coast of Brittany, centred around the vast expanse of the Gulf of Morbihan and its many islands. There is something softer (although still firm) about the Morbihan landscape – sand rather than granite, and plants that are greener and less tough looking than Finisterre’s heathland vegetation. What they both have in common however is a link to the ocean and again this is evident with a visit to the market confirming that crustaceans and fish still reign supreme. And we maintain our assault on them to ensure that they don’t become overpopulated, however like the sorcerer’s apprentice each new day at the market shows that we are losing the battle.

While Morbihan may appear to be less rocky than Finisterre one of the main reasons we have come here is all about stones, standing stones, or to be quite precise menhirs, dolmens and tumuli. The shores of the Gulf of Morbihan have a stunning concentration of neolithic stone alignments and burial chambers. In the town of Carnac (standing stone central) field after field of standing stones, five and six rows across, run for several hundred metres. There was certainly some serious grunt work in putting these constructs in place, for while some are smallish (1 metre high) some are two metres high with an impressive circumference. And because the stones are literally in fields they share their space with flocks of sheep and farmhouses, as well as arrays of flowers that are blooming in even greater profusion than the stones. The sheep appear to have no respect for the stones, using them as shelters from the wind and sun, and when necessary as scratching posts to ease the itch in those hard to reach places. In one corner of a field is a small-ish dolmen (stone altar), although not so small as to draw parallels with that embarrassing scene from the movie Spinal Tap. [

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The highlight of the day was a visit to the island of Gavrinis with its massive stone burial chamber, where we get two for the price of one, with a dolmen with a main chamber some 20 metres in length on top of which stones have been piled to create a tumulus that rises to a height of 15 metres. Lining the main chamber is a series of stone panels about 1.5 metres in height that have been inscribed with a diversity of linear and curving designs. As we return to the mainland from Gavrinis we also make a circuit of the much smaller island of Er Lannic which has two circular stone alignments that march from the peak of the island down to the low tide level and beyond, attesting to the sea level change over the millennia since these circles were created.

Our next stop is Rennes, the capital of Brittany, which brings us to a much larger town indeed, something more akin to Paris with its wide streets and modern buildings owing to a large portion of the town being destroyed by fire (rather than by Haussmann) in 1720. And with the step up in size an increase in the pace of the city (feel that recompression), and a further internationalisation of its face; it could be a regional administration centre in any western country although it still retains a small core of half-timbered houses and quaint rambling alleyways. There is also a noticeable shift in the alignment of the city towards the northern half of Brittany and away from the areas we have been visiting, which is seen particularly in the terminology and source of the food on offer in the town. Despite this shift there is a culinary universal constant that binds Brittany together and it is the crepe, served in sweet and savoury variations, and made either with plain flour or the strongly delicious buckwheat (blé noir). And in this part of the world nutella is not the king of the toppings.

So as we prepare to direct ourselves towards Paris we look for a sign and we find them aplenty, including cautionary messages regarding the management of doggy doings in the street (crottin de chevre are fine but crotte de chien are not, despite a passing similarity in their aromas) and the Buck Rogers-esque railway plaques with their OH&S warnings of imminent death or worse should you touch the live wires. And so gentle readers, for the last few days and our final posting

Allons a Paris … and we’ll see you there

P&D

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Photos

Higgledy Piggledy
.. half-timbered houses in one of Vannes' many wobbly winding streets

Ramparts of Vannes
.. with gardens waiting for their spring flowers

Rock On
... standing stone alignments in the fields of Carnac

Dolmen in Carnac
... and oh how the little children danced. This is not Spinal Tap

Sheep may Safely Graze
.. with no respect for neolithic artifacts

Advisory Sign
... watch out for those doggy crottes

Menhirs March to the Sea
... Er Lannic island in the Golfe de Morbihan

They're Coming Right for Us
... langoustines with tarragon pesto

Health Warning
... SNCF meets Buck Rogers; explosive!

Comments

[Marco]

Setting the bar on awesomeness
Mate, your travel blog is awesome by itself, and I thought it couldn't get more awesome... until you linked that Spinal Tap video! Class!