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Published: February 18th 2017
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I arrived to Rennes in the morning, “fresh” off an overnight bus from Spain. I had a few hours to explore while waiting for my bus to Quimper (“Camp-EHR”) to meet my friend. The weather was, unfortunately, just as expected—grey and cold, at least colder than I was used to in Spain, around 30F/0C. There was frost and in some places a light layer of snow (which is uncommon!).
I paid to use the toilet in the cold, uncomfortable bus station, and put it to use to change, wash my face, and brush my teeth. I followed some texted instructions from my friend about the areas to explore, but after 20 minutes of walking with my bag, my back was aching. Unfortunately there are no luggage storage options in Rennes, so I was stuck with it. The city, on a weekday morning during Christmas break, was relatively quiet. Some parts were charming, others grungy. A new-looking library was impressive.
After wandering a bit for a delicious-looking pastry shop where I could also get a coffee, I just settled for a chain-looking place called Brioche Doree. The coffee wasn’t great, due to my own inability to
order milk in it in French, but I got a raspberry pastry that was truly the bomb. It was more than 3 euros, which is expensive for a simple pastry, but I swear you will not be disappointed if you order a raspberry thing from that chain.
Because I didn’t have the energy to haul my stuff anymore, I decided to spend the next hour waiting in the bus station, but since it was so terrible, I thought I’d try out the train station. It seemed to be undergoing some kind of renovation, and it was also unheated. There were also very very few benches. I ordered a sandwich that I figured I could eat later, and sat in the food court for a while. When I couldn’t stand the cold anymore, I walked back over to the bus station to wait there uncomfortably.
For as much time as I had already spent on the bus in the past 24 hours, I was surprisingly eager to get on the next bus (which I assumed would have heating, and where, I assumed, I could take a nap). Ha! I was right on both counts. The
four hour bus ride flew, despite a mandatory 30 minute rest stop break, and I was finally in Quimper. My friend came to pick me up, but we decided to meet a mutual friend from Ourense before heading to her parents’ house. We strolled the Christmas-light-strung town a bit before going to the bar. I got mulled wine, but there was also a good selection of beers and ciders.
We spent the rest of the evening with my friend’s parents, and then I had a much-needed sleep. The next day was New Years’ Eve, but my friend was in the middle of studying, so we had a long breakfast, then headed to town. Instead of bee-lining for the library, we went to this super-cute bar/café that has an upstairs outdoor porch that overlooks a canal. Then, after reading in the library for a while, I went off to sight-see while she stayed in there studying. I didn’t know it before, but Quimper is apparently touristy in the summer, and for good reason--it’s full of cute buildings.
It was my first extended time in non-border-area France, although in the past year somehow I’d managed to
visit Hendaye (near the Spanish border), Menton (near the Italian border), and Evian Les Bains (near the Swiss border). So, although the architecture in Rennes and Quimper seemed unique, I’m not sure if it is. In any case, if you happen to be in Brittany, both Rennes and Quimper are nice. Quimper is more beautiful, but Rennes has more character (similar dichotomy to San Sebastian/Bilbao, but smaller).
The next few days, I stayed at my friend’s place, not her parents’. She lives with two friends in L’Hopital Camfrout, a village closer to the western coast and the city of Brest. For New Years', they had a get-together with other friends from their childhood. Some made an effort to speak to me/translate, but much of the night was more me observing. I “had” (ie. was ‘encouraged’) to try oysters, which are apparently a tradition. Did it, can’t say it was my favorite, especially after someone told me that they were alive until we ate them. Ugh. We also played some card and dice games which were some players took very seriously. It was a nice experience seeing groups of adult friends together, especially this kind that don’t hang
out that often. Because they’d slept over, the next day we drove over to the sea for a walk along the coast. It was the perfect activity for a hung-over New Years’ Day, and seeing the landscape more, I was jealous of the wild coast so close.
Unfortunately, that night, I started getting a cold, and it turned out to be one of the worst colds I’ve had in years. The next day, we had plans to meet my friend’s extended family and go for crepes, so I slept late and my friend made me grogs.
Despite still feeling sick, I wanted to see her family again (I’d met many of them when they visited Ourense last year). I was so snotty that I had to pre-emptively signal ‘no’ before they leaned in to give kisses on both cheeks (like they do in Spain). First, we stopped to say hi to her grandparents, and admired the garden, which overlooks the sea. Then we walked along the cliffs near her grandma’s house. Next, we went to two aunts’ houses to say hi to everyone and have a drink (champagne, in France!). Because they all lived
so close together, and probably also their chattiness, they reminded me of my own aunts. Although I couldn’t understand the conversations most of the time, I could tell that they were kind, and it was funny to notice some similar mannerisms or speech patterns as my friend.
After the home visits, we went for crepes and cider. Unfortunately, it was, by their own reckoning, not a great place, but the better ones were farther away. What’s interesting about the savory ones in Brittany is that they are made with buckwheat (which I’m pretty sure is what my mom used to try to sneak into our pancakes and thought we wouldn’t notice). I didn’t have much of a sense of taste, so I can’t comment on their quality, but I’m happy at least that I tried crepes and cider, two of the things Brittany is most well known for.
Afterwards, we stopped at a bar in Brest for a drink with an English-speaking friend of my friend. We decided to go to that specific Irish bar because it was traditional music and dancing night. In contrast to most places in Galicia, there is a bigger
Celtic dance scene in Brittany (both describe themselves as ‘Celtic’). The atmosphere was great, but I just wanted to finish my drink quickly because I wasn’t feeling well.
The next day, we had to say goodbye when I took a Blablacar to the airport in Nantes. It’s hard to see good friends for visits because you just barely catch up and remember why you got along so well before you have to say goodbye again. My time there really flew. Hopefully I can visit again, or she can visit me in the US sometime.
Brittany would be better in a different season, and there seem to be good bus connections between the major cities. Blablacar is also popular, but ideally to get to villages or beaches, I would rent a car. Next update will be my Carnaval adventure!
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