South to the Sub, a mediaeval fayre, the Nantes/Brest canal, and biscuit-beach heaven, with more oysters of course! Days 7 – 11

Sated with seafood for the moment, we decided, much to Mr B’s immense pleasure, that we would, at last, include a stop on our route south at the WW2 submarine pens at St Nazaire – hurrah! But first, as we just can’t help ourselves, we decided to drop in at a nearby château at Combourg which Mrs B had been reading about. And as we had left our campsite early enough to stop there for lunch, we imagined a quiet picnic in the grounds…

We should have guessed when we parked up a short walk away from the château and could hear live music, that something was afoot, and as we arrived at the entrance we were surprised to see people milling about in mediaeval garb; lots of people, including children! Luckily for us, we had arrived on a day that was given over to a ‘Tournois de Chevalerie’ which sounded suspiciously like a jousting tournament to us! We’d always fancied seeing one, but had never been in the right place at the right time, so how serendipitous was this! And as you can see in the photo, this promised more than knights in shining armour…

Wandering around the grounds it was great to see how many families and their kids had dressed up in period costumes. We quickly worked out where the music we had heard was coming from when we stopped to watch three very entertaining troubadours with electric versions of mediaeval style instruments…

… followed by a hilarious fire eater (who wouldn’t have looked out of place at an alternative music festival) and had the crowd (including those children) in his fiery pocket the entire show…

… and soon it was time for the jousting to commence…

This turned out to be a little slower than we had expected, and although the horses and riders were very skilled, and their costumes magnificent, we were pleased once the dressage-style bits were over and it was time for knight-to-knight combat! This turned out to be quite scary, with lances shattering on shields, and a couple of the combatants clearly nursing injuries they hadn’t anticipated!

Conscious that we still had the drive south to make a dent in, we bade farewell to the fayre…

… and after a short detour around Combourg due to a combination of road closures for the fayre, and the inevitable déviations, we headed off in the direction of St Nazaire, with Mrs B scanning Park4Night to look for a suitable sleepover. Having just spent three nights on a site, we were ready for the delights of a small Aire somewhere rural. And Mrs B came up trumps again, choosing one at Glénac once we were a good way south west of Rennes.

Even with the photos and reviews on P4N it’s impossible to tell whether we’ll like one of these stop-overs until we actually arrive, or indeed whether there will be any space. We don’t always have luck on our side either, which we discovered as we pulled into the designated area to see that all the grass parking spaces were occupied… It was only when we checked the photos on P4N that we spotted that there was one space left at the entrance – which in our view was the best spot, as it had views over to the nearby lake, and was on hardstanding – a big bonus after the recent heavy rain!

When we arrive somewhere new, if we have time and there’s still daylight, we like to have a little wander to get a sense of the locale. Glénac is a small hamlet, but it’s right on a lake that lets onto the Nantes/Brest canal…

Mr B had made a mental note that we might get somewhere near it on this trip, and without realising it, we had found somewhere right on it to park up! Of course, this meant that a cheeky bike ride had to be scheduled – surely? 

We slept that night like the dead (always amusing next to a cemetery, as Aires in small villages often seem to be) and the decision to stay another night was an easy one to make! As there was nowhere open to buy the obligatory baguette in Glénac itself, we decided to make a circular ride, starting on the canal and then visiting nearby St-Vincent-sur-Oust, which appeared (according to Mr B’s research) to have two boulangeries… Except, as we discovered after a brief chat with possibly the village’s oldest inhabitant (who on hearing our foreign accents proudly told us she had been to Paris) that the boulangerie wasn’t opening until 2026, and the depot-de-pain wouldn’t have bread, naturally, as it was a Monday… Cursing our forgetfulness (no-bread-Mondays are quite common in rural France) we chanced a visit to the local café that was also the not-today depot-de-pain. With no pastries or much else tempting our fancies, Mr B had a quick café alongée accompanied by a pear, whilst Mrs B reflected once more on his route planning skills. At €1.20 (no charge for the pear as the bar owner had clearly taken pity on Mr B) this was one of our cheapest, and quickest ever café stops! 

With nothing to lose, we headed off in the direction of the canal, with Mrs B making notes to self to pack emergency back-up food for subsequent rides. The ride back made it all worthwhile, and although baguette and café-free, proved to be very picturesque indeed…

… with intriguing arrangements on some boats moored by the lock at la Maclais…

We arrived back at Evie in time for a quick stroll to watch the sun setting over the lake…

… and for Mr B to engage a fisherman in conversation over a nearby sign in French describing varieties of fish that may be caught, but which included the not very French sounding ‘black bass’. It turned out (apparently) that it’s a hang over from WW2 GIs that moved to France and imported this much sought after game fish, famed for its pluck and fight! Whilst Mr B was wondering out loud whether there is no end to the things you can learn on a campervan trip, Mrs B had headed back to Evie, wondering altogether different thoughts! 

The next morning we were woken by the (very) nearby church bells at 0700. Mr B counted 150 chimes – and we both wondered how on earth we had slept through them the day before? Feeling a little less well-slept than we had anticipated, we set off on our relatively short drive to St Nazaire. Short in distance it may have been, but with the dock area in chaos with numerous roadworks and route barrées challenging Mr B’s patience pants, even though Mrs B was driving, we eventually arrived in the parking area for the Espadon submarine.

Located opposite the massive U-boat pens, Mr B had chosen this spot as it gave the best view of the pens on the opposite side of the harbour. The pens themselves are impressive feats of wartime engineering by the Germans, and are also are a stark reminder of some of the inhumanity of the Nazi regime when you learn that they were built using slave/prisoner labour from occupied territories by the notorious military engineering outfit, Organisation Todt.

Visiting the Espadon allowed a visit to an actual submarine (a first for both of us), once part of the French navy’s strategic fleet. The sub visit included a clever audio guide that explained things clearly, as well as providing authentic sub-like sounds as visitors reached different parts of the boat.

Built in 1960, and decommissioned in 1985, the sub was cramped and smelly as we expected, and seemed very old fashioned indeed – especially the electronics. 

Admiring how the crew of 65 would have coped with very small living and sleeping quarters…

...we were still surprised that they shared just one shower – which was seawater!

Mr B couldn’t help himself but pose with his hand on the mock-up of the torpedo launch button…

The sub is located in one of the old WW2 pens…

...with views over the harbour from the roof, which included a useful (for Mr B) comparison of old and new solar panel technologies on the roofs of Evie and a demountable camper parked next to her…

… as well as views over the adjacent wind turbine factory and assembly plant…

Returning to Evie for a cuppa before we headed off across the massive (and now toll free) bridge over the estuary, we admired this old and much loved Mercedes camper…

… before we drove the relatively short distance to our next stop – an ACSI site at the amusingly named St-Michel-Chef-Chef. We had chosen this stop not only for a photo-op of Mrs (chef) B…

… but it was close enough to get to before closing at 1800, as Mr B had discovered when phoning ahead to check for vacancies. And we were glad he had, as we were allocated the last but one of the 27 pitches on arrival! Loads of campervans and busy sites does seem to be a thing these days!

We quite like these small sites that have a mix of residents in their chalets, with a transient population of touring campers, as they are generally well run and maintained. And Camping le Vieux Château delivered! It even had a dedicated seafood sink…

We arrived expecting to stay just one night, but, as is becoming a trend with us, we decided to stay for three, once we had discovered the amazing beaches…

...allowing Mrs B to recharge her batteries… 

...and discovered that the town was home to our favourite French biscuit of all time, the St Michel galette 1905, where we just had to pay homage…

… and that there were cycling routes a-plenty, where, as we paused to catch our breath on a longer than anticipated ride, a friendly local offered to take a pic of us together…

We had originally set off to get to the lighthouse on the nearby point, but, after an hour of wending our way along some very picturesque coastline, admiring and anxious in equal measures as we used the ‘shared’ car/bike lanes where we were often riding against the direction of the vehicles, and, perhaps getting lost at one point, we decided to call it a day and make our way back, into the gathering headwind! Luckily for us, as we reached the end of the road our site was on, we discovered a lovely little oyster shack, where of course we decided we had earned yet another plate of oysters and a glass of chilled white…

With enough time the next (and final) day for Mr B to nip to the local boulangerie/patisserie to buy a wholeKouign Aman to freeze and parcel out as we headed further away from Breton influenced pastries…

...we made a relatively early start (for us), as we knew we had a longish day ahead on the road as we headed off towards La Rochelle, somewhere we had tried to visit before, but, as Mrs B recalled, it had all gone a bit wrong when Mr B had miscalculated the distance form the site he had chosen, to La Rochelle. (Regular readers may recall this episode back in June 2023!).

We were heading to the Île de Ré, somewhere we had never been before, after hearing about it from our good friends and fellow travellers, Tony and Jonquil who stayed there in the summer, just before they met up with us in southern Breizh. Mr B had phoned ahead and booked three nights on the interweb, as advised by reception. Reception didn’t close until 1800 and it was only a three hour drive according to Google, so what could possibly go wrong?

S&J 30.09.25 

The call of the oysters… Days 1-6

Apologies for the late posting of this first entry - a combination of having too much fun, and an elusive search for decent WiFi!

Arriving at Newhaven port before catching the ferry, we almost always have time for a cuppa before boarding – and today was no different – except, rather than bemoaning the fact that it would be great to have something to put our cups on (and we’ve been saying this for over a decade…) Mr B has at last made a folding tray to keep our Kenyan tea cuppas safe and sound. He snapped this photo as we’re not quite sure how long it will last…

The crossing was relatively calm despite our anxieties over the potential sea state, and by the time we had enjoyed a surprisingly delicious short rib of beef in the canteen, and got stuck into our current books (the latest Richard Osman for Mrs B, the latest Lottie Brooks for Mr B…) we were suddenly in Dieppe! And we were just as suddenly disembarked in record time, which meant that we were one of the first campervans to hit the road… something we were pretty pleased about, as we had never seen so many in the Newhaven ferry queue before – (we reckon 50+ easily)… and our destination Aire in Auffay only has four authorised places, as regular readers might remember…

With Mr B at the wheel, we raced past the only other campervan in front of us and arrived in Auffay to find just one space left – again! It’s usually a faff to reverse into the hardstanding bays in the dark, as they are all at different angles to one another – but this time we had a rather late-in-the-day epiphany – we just drove in forwards – doh – a doddle! Feeling pretty silly that it has taken us all this time to realise this easy option, we settled down to a peaceful, starry night – a treat for it not to be raining!

Over breakfast the next morning we had a chat about where we might actually be heading. Then Mrs B remembered the conversation we’d had with a very helpful Breton woman in Pointe du Raz about the best place, and time of year for oysters – Cancale, on the Northern Coast of Breizh, in September. So with no more discussion needed, we set off to the excellent nearby Super U in Yerville to fulfil all our start-of-journey French food and drink clichés in one go, before heading off to the A29/A13 Autoroutes, remembering the slow (very) pace of our first trek across west last autumn when we’d taken the N/D roads!

It’s not expensive to get to the free autoroutes that start at Caen (a total of €23.50) including the Pont Normadie, and using them meant we were able to arrive on the Baie de Mon St Michel not far from Cancale before it started to get dark. Mrs B had found what looked like a great ‘home stay’ on Park4Night – where you get to stay in someone’s garden/orchard etc for a small fee – in this case €8. As there were only five places, Mr B phoned ahead and left a message in dubious French that we would be arriving between 1900 and 2000, and to please leave a message and let us know.

With Mrs B talking us in on the P4N App, we pulled up outside a house and orchard at exactly the location – but with no helpful signs… But then a woman came out of the house, clearly intending to chat to us...and before she could say anything, Mr B explained that he had left a phone message, and was this the ‘home stay’ on P4N? She explained it was, but seemed confused about the phone message, disappearing inside to be replaced by Monsieur, who kindly directed us back to a chained entrance to the orchard and invited us to park for the night – after we had handed over our €8 of course!

Settling in for the night under a clear sky, Mr B checked his phone to find a text and a voicemail waiting, confirming that yes, we would be most welcome to stay. Perplexed by the confusion upon arrival, it was only when he activated the location link that had been sent in the text that the centime dropped – there were two home stays in the same hamlet (la Fresnais) – both with orchards and both at €8 – Mrs B had chosen one, and Mr B had phoned the other – neither realising there were two! Feeling very embarrassed, Mr B quickly dashed of an apologetic text, receiving a very sweet invite for ‘perhaps another time’ by return – oops!

Who would have imagined such a small hamlet would have two homestays – and at the same price – clearly not us!

Next morning we looked at the campsite options for Cancale – where our focus was oysters and walking, and hopefully cycling. With a combination of P4N and ACSI apps at our disposal, we had a choice of a site a little away from Cancale, or one just on the outskirts and a short walk to a Super U and the seafood restos on the quayside. As neither was very far from our idyllic, if confusingly chosen home stay, we decided to have a look at the ACSI site first, Camping I’Ile Verte in a small hamlet on the coast, St Benoît-des-Ondes, en route to Cancale.

Arriving just after reception closed (1200-1400) as is usual for us, we were invited to park Evie up and return at 1400. The site looked very welcoming, and we had already discovered on our first route barré of the trip that it was very close to a run of interesting restaurants, local oyster sellers, beachside walking/cycling so we decided to take a wander around the site to check out the pitches/facilities etc. There were only 5 out of 40 pitches vacant, so we decided to have a wander along the coast and return promptly for 1400.

After a short walk along the coast, and observing an endless procession of campervans heading in both directions, it was very easy to decided that we would stay where we were, and maybe get a bus into Cancale. We also booked lunch for the following day at an amazing oyster seller that also ran a small restaurant upstairs three days a week – and luckily for us, those days were when we were there.

Returning to the site in time to form an orderly queue in front of some Belgian campers that had arrived after us, Mr B managed to persuade the receptionist to let us have the pitch we had seen as the best of the vacant five, even though the site policy is normally to allocate. He put this down to his burgeoning Gallic charm, but Mrs B pointed out that it was probably to get him out of the way, so Madame could deal with the Belgians…

After parking up and a swift cuppa, we wandered off to have another explore of the beach.

Reminiscent of the Baie de Somme, the sea could be seen some distance away over the miles of mudflats – the perfect environment for seafood, but not for bathing! So we headed off away from Cancale, pausing for a quick photo op on a bench…

… admiring the locals enjoying a horse and trap ride…

...the amazing shoreline covered entirely in seafood shells and wormcasts…

...an tree decorated early for Christmas maybe…

…chatting to some friendly Americans from Michigan (equally despairing of their orange leader), who taught us how to tell moving weather systems by putting one’s back to the wind, where a low pressure will be to the left, and the high moving to the right (northern hemipshere only). It turned out that Jeff and Michelle were retired USAF meterologists!

We also discovered an Aire de Camping car not far from our site for €9 alongside the coast road. Good to know there are options given the occupancy level at our site! Which, when we returned from our walk, was full!

Waking to a lovely sunny day, we ambled off for our lunch, pausing at the nearby church which, whilst serenading us with bells on the hour (and the half) until 2300, had then mercifully stopped until 0800 – providing a useful revellie for sleepy campers! 

We chose our lunch destination on the basis that we probably couldn’t get seafood any fresher…

...and the menu was the sort we love – short and simple…

Feeling suitably stuffed after an excellent lunch (we both particularly loved the sweet flavour of the local huitres plates), we decided that perhaps we should exercise some of it away and make the most of the still sunny afternoon. Having seen the flat cycle path along the back of the beach, we soon discovered the local char-a-voile school making full use of the blustery conditions…

...and more oyster carnage…

Our final day saw a change in the weather, with rain and strong winds forecast. So we decided to drive Evie over to Cancale, rather than try for the ‘on demand by app’ bus service which we were keen to explore, but figured it might just be easier to drive! Which is how we found ourself parked in the campervan allocated bays at the Super U, marvelling at the huge and decently priced wide range of fully stocked shelves – so unlike the UK of late – but in particular at the awesome ‘too good to waste’ box we took away for €2.50…

Given we had come to Cancale for the oysters, and even though we had shared a plate the day before, we went full on tourist and enjoyed a mixed platter of ‘plates’ and creuses on the blustery harbourside overlooking the oyster beds…

including disposing of the shells over the seawall, as advised and customary...

...maybe this explains the make-up of the beaches here!

There was even a dedicated bin for used lemons!

Cancale is very much a one mollusc town, with the working of the oyster beds taking part alongside the consumption of them…

...and celebrated in the local statuary…

With the wind picking up, and storm clouds gathering…

we decided to head off to the Pointe de Grouin to get some post-oyster exercise, before the rain hit us…

We were very lucky – partly not to have been blown off the headland, but, as we discovered on our short drive back to the site, to have swerved the rain altogether. The site was pretty soggy when we got back, and we were grateful to be parked on a hardstanding pitch – not usually our choice but inadvertently well chosen here!

So where next? Some of you may recall that Mr B has been twice denied the opportunity of exploring the submarine pens at L’Orient or St Nazaire when we have opted instead to head south. Maybe it will be third time lucky?

S&J 24.09.25