Good food is always a fine antidote to most of life’s tribulations
On the road again, shuffling down the road again…. Saturday started a little damply, but the huge heads on the numerous hydrangea plants are so cheerful and colourful that they brightened up the morning. And when the sun came out their colours shone splendiferously. As we drove north-west, we were fascinated by the fact that most villages had a name beginning with the letter K or the letter P and a lot of them are unpronounceable in French, or in Breton. Kerhuel, Kerlazen, Keristenvet, Kerguelléc, Kerledic, Poldreuzic, Plouhinec, Poulprat and Plogoff; ah we had fun trying to spot the silliest one. Apart from amusing village names, we were looking for something that we didn’t know the name of, but knew it was somewhere near Plouhinec. It turned out to be Menez Dregan Mégalithique and there was more than one site to look at. The first megalithic site we drove past, but I spotted it out of the corner of my eye, so we pulled over and walked back to it. L’allée couverte de Menez Korriged was standing amongst modern houses with fabulous views of the coastline.
Not much further along the coast road, we wandered over to La Nécropole du Souc’h, an extensive layout of ‘buildings’; apparently some of it has been reconstructed, but it’s pretty impressive. There is also a cave below, but that was fenced off while further archaeological investigations are continuing.
After driving through Plogoff a.k.a. Plougon, which despite the daft name was quite a nice village, we found ourselves at the most westerly point of mainland France, the Pointe du Raz. It’s a forty-minute stroll around the headland and towards the end, you can see all the way across to the lighthouse, the Phare la Ville and the Īle de Sein, a very tiny but still inhabited island.
Round the Baie des Trespasses and from there, the only way now was east along the southern side of the Baie de Douarnenez. We took a wriggle around Douarnenez and then continued right round the bay to Morgat. It seemed a long way to go for a drink in a small beach resort, but Rodney had happy memories of a holiday he spent there with his parents and Ivan in the early sixties. Apparently it has changed a lot!
Rodney found out that he could pick up Radio 4 on the LW of Eileen’s radio. Sadly for him (perhaps happily for me) he was a day late, because the England v Australia first test match had already been won by England. But we tuned in anyway and heard the announcement “Coming up next a tense cricket match, but it’s not at Lord’s, it’s at Ambridge”. We were listening to the every-lasting soap opera ‘The Archers’…… in Brittany!!!
Just before we arrived at Camping Municipal du Gollen in Sizun, Eileen clicked over to 60,000 miles; which means that by the end of this trip we will have travelled 25,000 miles in her; that’s 40,000 kilometres!!!
On Sunday morning, primped and preened, we set off further north through Morlaix and out the other side. And at 10:30am we arrived at our friends, Nicky and David’s home in Plouegat Guérand. They have the most beautiful stone cottage set in a garden full of vegetables and flowers; I was ready to unpack and move in. But no, we jumped into their car and off we all went to the huge market in Plestin les Grèves. It was the most crowded place we have been in the whole of our travels this year; there were so many people there, squeezing their way between the endless rows of market stalls; it was quite staggering. Somehow we managed to have a good mooch around and all stick together reasonably well. Fruit and veggies were purchased and then we headed to a café on the harbour at Locquirec for a late morning coffee.
Back at the house we were fed a scrumptious lunch of goat’s cheese slices placed on top of Nicky’s roasted vine tomatoes, on top of slices of toasted bread. I’ve stolen the recipe; it’s an improvement on my version. And after lunch we piled back in the car and David drove us to various viewpoints around the local coastline, St Jean du Doigt, Plougasneau, Le Diben, even a village called Christ, and various other pretty places usually beginning with the letter K or P. It’s a beautiful area and it is very reminiscent of Cornwall or Wales, but it is different in its own way and I can see why people fall in love with Brittany.
Our stay with Nicky and David turned into a gourmet treat. Dinner time came around and we were served up an entrée of melon and ham coated with a sauce of orange, honey and chilli; I’ve stolen the recipe; it’s another improvement on my version. Then the main course arrived; a Spanish style casserole full of chicken, salami, chorizo and goodness knows what else, but I will know, because I’ve stolen that recipe too! That night we slept in Eileen parked in the gorgeous garden amongst the jasmine, roses, geraniums, etc. It’s not in the ACSI book, but we would more than highly recommend the pitch.
On Monday morning, with recipes stowed on board and a stash of David’s home baked shortbread biscuits, we said our fond farewells and wondered when and where we will see our brilliant hosts next…….maybe next year, somewhere in Europe……. Thank you so very much David and Nicky, for everything; we are bowled over with your generosity and we will get you back!
