Salty serendipity…

Heading south east out of Brittany and following the siren call of the south, we plotted a course that would take us along the western end of the Loire-Atlantique region. We fetched up at a campsite in Batz-sur-Mer, as we had chosen to visit Guérande, a medieval town complete with fortified walls and famous for its salt, and all the camping options were dotted around the coast. Batz looked less touristy than its neighbours and, like them, was surrounded by large expanses of salt pans all busy drying salt for local production and sale.

Although the weather had turned cloudy by the time we arrived, we had a leisurely stroll along the coastline, which was very reminiscent of north Cornwall.

The small town was really interesting, with poster displays celebrating women of note from the town’s past, and a large abandoned chapel which we learnt was raised by the salt workers after a plague in the 1400s. Clearly not in favour with the Almighty, it was subsequently gutted by fire and left for posterity.

Next to the chapel was a monument to fallen soldiers of (mainly) WW1 from the town. France is dotted with these sombre reminders, but what drew our attention to this one, was the very visible impact it must have had on a small number of families in a small town, with what we assume to be fathers/sons, brothers and cousins sharing a small number of surnames.

The campsite itself was a pleasant surprise, as it had a large and heated pool that we availed ourselves of, as well as being within easy walking distance of the coastal path. There were plenty of cycling options too, had we been staying longer.

And, as we headed off the next morning to visit Guérande, we were reminded by a road sign of the coincidence of visiting another area famous for its salt, with the towns of Salies-de-Béarn (home of Chris and Sue) and Batz-sur-Mer being twinned. It’s perhaps a sign of the solidarity amongst salt workers, that the people of the town had chosen another French working town, rather than one from another country, as is often the case!

After a short drive to Guérande, we parked up in the (free) Aire on the outskirts of town, having remembered from Bayeux the perils of negotiating ancient streets when there is a perfectly good parking place for camping cars, obviously provided for a reason! We’d swerved parking here overnight as it’s right next to the busy main road, but it was spacious and easy to find. And it also had an amazing version of what you can do with an Iveco Daily to make a motorhome, if you have a bit more money than it took to build ours!

After speaking with the amiable owner, we were even more amazed to discover that it had a Mercedes Smart car parked in the boot – slightly more civilized that our two folding bikes for sure, but not as environmentally friendly!

As we neared the walls of Guérande, Mr B became quite excited at the promise of a wander around the intact battlements, especially as we’d passed by the U-boat pens at St Nazaire and the tank museum at Saumur for a taste of something a bit more historic…

Unfortunately, the walls were closed for repairs until the end of June, so we had to satisfy ourselves with wandering the streets, which, given the town is such a tourist magnet, were relatively quiet. Learning the difference between the different grades of salt (and their prices!) as we wandered from shop to shop (and stopping to buy a bag of the less white, cheaper but still lovely and salty sel Guérande) we also took in a local Breton delight by way of a quick snack. A ‘kouignette’ is a sort of puff pastry made from churned butter and leavened dough, and we scoffed our mini versions in no time at all!

Finishing our visit with a tour of the walls from the outside (and at ground level!) we headed back into the town by one of four gates, and chanced across what turned out to be the most interesting part of the visit…

Marking the site of a medieval graveyard, an iron art installation depicts a series of trades and occupations of those originally buried by the nearby church. We found it both eerie and homely at the same time (especially with the knitted non-period additions!) and were glad we had decided to wander back inside the walls.

Our next destination was Nantes, where we were looking forward to a couple of nights at an ACSI site just on the outskirts. And, having failed to manage to eat any mussels or oysters whilst actually in Brittany, we bought a dozen local huitres to have as a starter when we arrived on site, after checking first that we still had that special shucking knife…

S&J

Standing stones and the people that fell from the sky…

Leaving our vintage caravan site behind us as we headed south west towards the megalithic monuments at Carnac in the Golfe du Morbihan, an air of quiet anxiety settled over us as we had flash-backs of our last adventure in Menhir-land on Corsica…

There, the ‘imposing megaliths’ turned out to be not that tall, and not that imposing, and whilst we enjoyed our trundle around the site at Filitosa on Corsica, it would be fair to say that we left a little underwhelmed. Having now embarked on a trip specifically to see fields full of standing stones, we hoped that what we may not find imposing in height, we may at least make up imposing in numbers.

The ancient site at Carnac is reckoned to be the most important prehistoric centre in Europe, and may have been continuously inhabited longer than anywhere else in the world, perhaps since 5700 BCE. With over 2000 stones making up various ‘alignments,’ there are certainly a lot of menhirs to marvel at...

Parking up at the free area for camping cars near the Maison des Mégalithes, we found ourselves free to wander around the fenced off stones, or, wait for a French language tour that would allow us into the fenced area. Our French leaving a lot to be desired, we decided that getting up reasonably close would do, and so we spent a good 90 minutes taking a leisurely stroll around the perimeter of the different alignments, with very few other visitors to be seen.

The stones were certainly impressive in quantity (including one with what we think might be a resident sparrowhawk), and whilst the experts are not agreed on their purpose, they do deliver an imposing experience of the scale of human endeavour. Particularly when you take into account that the people who started the trend only lived to the age of 30ish – that’s a lot of time, for a lot of your life focussed on stones, whatever their purpose. And, as we were reflecting on the visit over lunch, we were hard pressed to think of what from our own times might still be around in almost 6000 years times – other than plastic in the oceans…

We’d plumped for a trip to the Presqu’île de Quiberon for our camp up in this area, jutting out into the Atlantic as it does, marking the western end of the gulf area. It was a bit of a gamble, as once we’d started onto the peninsula, the only way to go was right to the end, and if we didn’t like it, turn around and retrace our steps.

With the weather brightening but windy, we opted for camping Les Joncs du Roch on the tip of the peninsula near the town of Quiberon, on the lee shore and adjacent to the local aerodrome where, we had read, much entertainment could be had as a variety of light aircraft took off and landed! The site’s location also delivered on being close to a number of beaches and cycle paths – in the unlikely event that it got hot enough to go to the beach of course!

Strangely, the day after we arrived was warm enough for us to spend a few hours at the beach, giving us an unexpected northerly intro to what we hoped would become a regular pattern later in the trip!

Sufficiently sunned by late afternoon, we returned to the van and debated overly long about whether to take a dip in the large and covered pool – it had closed by the time we’d decided it might be fun! The sea was certainly still too cold, for us anyway, this far north and cooled by Atlantic breezes (aka moderate to strong winds) for us not to try more than a swift dip of the toes!

The next day started cloudy – an ideal opportunity to get those bikes out and explore the nearby cycle paths. With the port of Santa Maria just around the corner on the côte sauvage, we ventured out with no clear plan, other than to see what the port area had to deliver. Luckily, we had chanced upon market day, and whilst the prices were all too reminiscent of the ‘70s when exchange rates were also not in favour of the UK, it was fun to wander around and marvel at the prices of fruit and veg, as well as admire the local cuisine, with its galletes and crêpes vying for savoury or sweet customers. Leaving just enough time to make a visit to the local sardine factory outlet/museum, and wonder at French planning permission laws as we spotted a Disney-esque château on a nearby promontory, we made our way back to the site via the other port on the west coast, Port Haliguen, arriving at the van in time for afternoon tea.

It was whilst we were enjoying our cuppas that we heard an eerie noise overhead, and strange shadows were cast across our pitch… And as we looked up, more than a little warily, we were treated to the site of a series of parachutists coming in to land at the aerodrome across the road!

It was only later when we wandered over to the aerodrome that we discovered that there was a local parachute club that offered tandem rides – so of course we stayed to watch the next batch of pretty terrified folk go through their landing drills, before they were whisked off to the north in the jump plane, only to return in short order from on high, attached to the front of their instructors!

We really enjoyed our stay on Quiberon and, had the winds abated enough to tempt us back to the beaches, we could have stayed a little longer. As it was, the pull of the south was getting stronger and after completing our visit with a drive back along the wild, western coast, we plotted our course for our first stop in the neighbouring region of Loire-Atlantique; the salt flats town of Batz-sur-mer, coincidentally twinned with Salies-de-Bearn, the home of Chris and Sue who we have visited on a couple of our trips to and from Spain, without spotting the twinned town we were about to visit!

S&J

A taste of Brittany

As we set off from Bayeux in the direction of neighbouring Brittany, apart from a plan to visit the ancient megalithic site of Carnac in the Golfe du Morbihan (where we had read of structures older than the pyramids, and one that was even pyramid-like), we were happy to let the road dictate the pace and any stops before the gulf.

And what a serendipitous find Mrs B spotted as we realised that we were unlikely to make Carnac before midnight – a fabulous little ACSI site at Le Roc-Saint-André just off the N166 road to Vannes. Situated alongside the Nantes-Brest canal and home to a collection of vintage caravans, Camping Domaine du Roc turned out to be a real gem. The caravans range from the 1930s to the 1960s and are available to rent!

With only 28 touring pitches we were pleased to be able to park up alongside the canal, where the cycle path on the ‘chemin de halage’ ran north and south to neighbouring villages and towns, with a ‘voie verte’ also tracing the path of a disused tramway starting just outside the campsite.

Mr B was beside himself with so many opportunities to get the bikes out the next day, and as darkness fell, a calm of rural tranquillity settled over the happy campers…

Until, that is, the clanking of the galvanizing factory across the river, which was (we discovered) working nights because of extra orders, and could be heard because the wind was (unusually) from the north… woke us from our Calvados inspired dreams! Luckily, we got used to it after a while and woke only marginally less rested than we might have expected. In fact, we decided that this little site is definitely a keeper for a return visit sometime. There’s so much to see in the area and it’s beautifully tranquil.

Spoilt for choice with a panoply of cycle routes, we mounted up and headed south to the picturesque village of Malestroit five miles or so away and with the promise of lunch to gird our loins…

The canal is interesting in that it makes use of a river for parts of its route, and so we meandered and straightened until we reached Malestroit where we spotted an enormous (and free) Aire that must have had a good 50+ campervans on it!

Feeling peckish, but not hungry enough for a full-on feast, we chanced upon an Artisan Boulangerie that was, strangely for a village bakery, open at lunch time. And we soon discovered why, as a seemingly never ending stream of vehicles pulled up nearby and disgorged people into the shop, returning laden with what was clearly some high-demand take-away tucker along with their daily bread.

And so it was that we sampled Fougasse for the first time; a doughy delicacy, originating in Provence but made in Brittany with great aplomb, stuffed full of melting cheese and lardons, and it was delicious! We happily munched our way through one in a nearby park and, not wanting to tackle the return ride too quickly, set off to explore the sleepy village.

With a range of half timbered buildings typical of the region, and set alongside the canal and river, there were plenty of picturesque vistas that called out for our best photo-clichés, before it was time to head back to camp.

As we headed back we paused at one of the locks to marvel at the tight fit of some of the pleasure boats; the French approach to lock gates (fully automated and hydraulically operated by the lock keeper); and the well-oiled state of some of the crews!

Arriving back at the van, and noting a light shift in wind direction, we kept our fingers crossed for a quieter night, at least industrially, as Mrs B heard the plaintive cry of a Scop’s owl not far away, and our experience on other trips is that a night-long serenading is not unusual…

Luckily, the night turned out to be both lovely and dark (thanks to the site’s very good use of low-level lighting), and quiet, as the wind had indeed shifted, the owl slept (or found a friend), and so we woke refreshed, and ready to continue our journey to Carnac and those imposing megaliths…

S&J

Go West young man (and woman)!

As is usual with our trips, detailed planning is left until the last moments before departure, and sometimes, as with this trip, until we are actually on the boat. And so it was that we came to the decision to head towards Brittany, somewhere we’d not travelled together yet. And, as we were headed there first, why not take in the Bayeux tapestry en-route?

So with Bayeux as our first planned destination, we headed off from Dieppe towards Rouen for our first overnighter at the (now familiar) Aire at Montville, a usually reliable stop for a late night arrival. Arriving not long before midnight, we were able to choose from three pitches that had been thoughtfully left for latecomers (or maybe because they were all at slightly odd, sloping angles)?

This Aire is popular as it’s not far off the main route south from Dieppe, it’s free, and the adjacent town has the usual range of bakery delights to tempt travellers newly arrived on the mainland! Montville also has the unusual distinction of being one of only about 30 towns in France where the relationship between church and state is vividly captured with some post-hoc embellishments on the outside of the church showing the authority of the Republic!

The drive over to Bayeux the next day was uneventful and the weather delivered on its now customary ‘welcome to northern France’ reproduction of the weather back home – cloudy with a promise of sun just around the corner…

Our second overnight stop was north of Bayeux at Arromanches-les-Bains on the coast, overlooking the remains of the Mulberry harbour from the D-day landings all along this stretch of coast. Perched at the top of the same cliffs that Allied service personnel had fought and died to capture after storming the beaches, the atmosphere was enhanced by the calm and misty sea just beneath us.

With time before settling in for the night to wander along the beaches that we had seen in so many grainy black and white Pathe newsreels of the Normandy landings, it was quite something to realise we were walking across the killing zone that had seen so many casualties. 75 years on, the beach is still peppered with bits of harbour that have washed ashore, adding to the atmosphere.

And to add to the sense of occasion, just as we were turning in for the night, the air suddenly started throbbing with the sound of heavy vehicles approaching, and a convoy of WW2 American vehicles rumbled past us in the dead of night…

Morning brought a change in the weather with bright sun and clear skies, and by the time we had surfaced, all of our immediate neighbours had left on their travels, leaving us in splendid isolation to enjoy the views.

Before we left Arromanches, it seemed appropriate to take in one of the memorials to the events of 6^th June 1944, and so it was we ended up in the nearby 360 degree cinema with its 19 minute film about the first 100 days of the liberation. The film, skilfully put together from original footage, is free from jingoism and very strong on the impact on the local civilian population; a moving tribute to the endeavours of so many people from more nations than you may be aware of, and a must if you are in the area.

As we headed south to Bayeux we just assumed we’d be able to park up near the museum that houses the tapestry…

We should of course have figured that the reason Bayeux has two Aires, is that camping cars are banned from all the other car parks, and many of the roads in the old town, as we found to our embarrassment as we tried to navigate our way back to the ring road to start again!

As it turned out, one Aire (free in the day) was a short walk to the museum and so we parked up and had our second historical adventure of the trip. Mrs B had seen the big carpet before, when it was housed in the amazing Cathedral, but the recent conversion of the nearby seminary to house the tapestry and its super modern multi lingual and automatic audio guide made it an amazing and informative experience.

Unfortunately no photos can be taken, and given the understandable high level of security in public places in France, we decided to include our own short version…

After wandering briefly around the picturesque town, we headed back to the van to go and seek provisions for our next leg of the journey; into Brittany and the ancient pyramids of Carnac…

S&J

Summer 2019 - an adventure in France - at last!

After 26 years of traveling together in one of our campervans, and almost always starting and ending our trips in France, we've decided to do something we talk about every year - dedicate a trip to exploring as much as France as we can! And, hard to believe, but we've seen 9 editions of the French Rough Guide come and go whilst we've been prevaricating!

It's a massive country and there are bound to be some bits we miss, so if you do have any favourites, please let us know via the blog or email.

As usual, we will be posting updates as often as we can, depending on access to the internet and some downtime to get the pics sorted and the commentary written!

Please do add comments if the fancy takes you - or email us if you'd rather. And, if you are also traveling and would like us to link to your blog or whatever, let us know!

À bientôt!

Steve and Julie 😃