The Baie de Lannion and the GR34 – and a camp site at last! Days 11-13

Safe in the knowledge that were heading to a site that was actually going to be open, and with our handy stash of information leaflets, we set off to explore more of the coastline around Perros-Guirec. Using P4N to find a camper-van friendly car park, we settled into tourist mode and opted for one of the way-marked circular walking routes that would take us through a small sculpture park and on to the GR34 coastal path, before dropping us back to the car park.

 

The sculpture park was a great find – 18 huge pieces carved from the local pink granite, and free to wander around. And once we saw some of the photos of the sculptors themselves at work with chainsaws, we were extra impressed!

 

 

The short walk to the small port village of Ploumanac’h was the start of a re-acquaintance with the GR34, and straight away we were taken with just how scenic this part of Brittany is, and again, how it made us think of the south of France…

 

 

We soon picked up the distinctive red and white trail markers for the GR34 north of the port,

 

 

…dropping down onto the beach to admire L’Oratoire de Saint-Guirec where pilgrims and locals would pray for the safe-keeping of their loved ones at sea, or, for single women seeking a husband, push a pin into the Saint’s nose to snag one within a year (until that is, the nose of the wooden 14^thC saint fell off, from which time rubbing has sufficed). The wooden statue is now in the Chapel, and all nose rubbing takes place with a stone version, installed in the early 1900s…

 

 

…of course there had to be a lighthouse somewhere on one of our walks, and before long we were approaching the much photographed Mean Ruz lighthouse…

 

 

 

Replete with the pinkyness of the amazing coastline, and aware that we had to get back to Evie and on to the campsite to check in, we set a brisk pace for the last part of the route, which included being saved by a local from wandering into to nearby restricted military zone – eek!

 

After encountering a couple of the by now fairly regular ‘Route barrée – déviation’ yellow signs that strike fear into all drivers in France – and in particular those of us in unfamiliar territory and driving against the clock, we hit the coast just east of our intended destination. Arriving at reception at the municipal site in St Efflam (the beach for nearby Plestin-les-Greves) with an hour to spare, we were so pleased that at last we had followed our own advice and phoned ahead!

 

 

Open all year with a dozen or so hard standings to choose from at the front of the site, it is a credit to the local town hall, and we soon made use of the lovely hot showers and settled in for the night, planning our next day’s activities. And we had loads to choose from with our stash of leaflets from the tourist office. With the sun shining as we woke the next day, we decided to explore the immediate surroundings before heading off in Evie, enjoying the miles of sandy beach…

 

 

…La maison de l'aigle, an intriguing house between the campsite and the beach, built by Raoul Vendôme in 1928, who was involved in the automotive industry and became known in particular as belonging to the first generation of aircraft manufacturers in France. Apparently Vendôme also made some inventions in the technical field, such as the perfume atomizer!

 

 

After confirming that although there was not a boulangerie nearby, there was a friendly Tabac/café, we set off in Evie for a short westward hop for a bit of butter-free culture – the amazing Cairn de Barnenez on the Kernéléhen peninsula. One of the oldest human structures in the world (from about 4800 BCE) it was discovered in the 1950s by accident when it was being used as a quarry for paving slabs, and luckily saved and restored (minus the paving slabs dotted around northern France). There’s an excellent information centre, and once the enormity of just how old it is, and how much labour was involved in shifting an estimated 13,000 tonnes of stone has sunk in, it’s very easy to absorb the powerful atmosphere that surrounds it…

 

 

Leaving enough time to also look at the more contemporary art installation…

 

 

 

and the tempting mushrooms…

 

 

we decided to get back on that GR34 and explore further north towards Plougasnou. We expected the usual stunning views…

 

 

…as we headed towards Térenez beach, but we weren’t prepared for the large number of people we saw heading up and down the GR34 with baskets, buckets, bags and more in their hands! A quick look into one of them revealed that we had chanced upon the locals exercising their rights to forage the shoreline for a wide range of seafoods – including some enormous scallops!

 

 

Envious of their knowledge and ability to gather up such a bounteous harvest from the shoreline, we headed off back to Evie for a cuppa, firm in the desire to drop into the nearest seafood outlet and gather our own harvest! Which just happened to be the local SuperU in Plestin-les-Greves on our way back to St. Efflam. We are used to seeing some pretty spectacular fish counters in France, but we have never seen one groaning with so much to choose from, including some amazing huitres and, shucked for us whilst we waited, some coquilles St Jacques too!

 

And, courtesy of some scary oyster shucking from Mr B, and a delicious scallop dish from Mrs B, we felt very fortunate as we had dinner later that night that, not only is the seafood of such amazing quality and super fresh, it’s also very affordable at French prices!

 

 

The next day saw a change back to some rain, but it didn’t stop us from taking an extremely wet, and very windy walk along the beach to a café we were sure would be open, as the interweb/Google said it would be (it wasn’t) – and an equally long, wet and windy walk back (which didn’t put Mrs B off stopping for a rain-swept swing)…

 

 

…learning about the use of the beach in WWII to supply materiel to the Allied armies operating in Brittany by beaching tank landing craft full of supplies…

 

 

and where we saw signs warning of death from toxic seaweed/algae (the abundant sea-lettuce can, after stormy weather has washed enough ashore and it rots, give off enough hydrogen sulphide to kill), we managed to get a seat at the Tabac/café where we dripped over a couple of piping hot cafés allongé and a delicious home made pommé (it was only a matter of time before Breton butter made a comeback!) Thank goodness we were only a short walk to Evie and those lovely hot campsite showers!

 

The next morning saw the rain abate and, having learned from experience the hard way, Mr B called ahead to an ACSI site further west at Brignogan Plages, and we were in luck – not only did we have until 1800 to get there, if we were delayed we could call and make arrangements – plenty of flexibility to work around any of those pesky yellow ‘Route barrée – déviation’ signs!

 

S&J

(covers 19^th-21^st October)

 

 

 

 

 

 

A lesson learned? Camping in the Côte de Granit Rose Days 9 -12

After locating the nearest Super U again, for food, fuel and Bret’s la Bretonne of course, we made the short hop along the coast to a small municipal campsite that, according to Park4Night, was open until the end of the month. Mindful of our last mistake and conscious of our language limitations on the ‘phone, we opted to do a drive-by check before we travelled on to the Côte de Granit Rose. The last couple of rainy days had given us plenty of time to reflect on the balance of campsite/Aires/ random free camps, and we both agreed that at this time of year, with the darker evenings and low probability of eating outside the van of an evening, using a campsite as a base came up favourite. Especially as, like Cornwall, nowhere is very far to drive once you are on a narrowing peninsula! And whilst there are loads of campervan friendly carparks along the coast, almost all have clear, and enforceable prohibitions on overnight parking!

 

 

So off we drove to Camping Municipal Ernest Renan, a little to the east of the Perros-Guirec section of the coast we were keen to visit. As we approached the site, we knew that the sight of flags blowing in the breeze did not mean the site was actually open – but although there was a piece of rope tied across the entrance, it looked like it might be. Parking up just along the road, Mr B wandered around the site looking for someone to ask…or to read a note…but with no sign of either, he took a punt with the contact number on the main sign at the entrance. Long (and in painful French) story short, the site had closed the weekend before! A quick check on our trusty P4N App showed another Municipal a little inland from where we were at Kermaria Sulard, but, as we were approaching lunch (when almost all French sites close for a couple of hours – or more) we decided to drive on to do some initial exploring of Perros-Guirec and call the site before we left…

 

With the sun shining as we drove along the coast, we were struck again by just how like this part of Brittany seemed to resemble the southern coast – maybe it was the sun warming our bones after a couple of dull and wet days, but as we pulled over into a viewing area for lunch, our spirits rose with the vista out of the van window…

 

 

…and on the short circular walk we decided on, whilst we waited for the local tourist office to open to gather up some of the usually useful local leaflets about places of interest.

 

 

The Office de Tourisme was great – loads of useful information on walks and places to visit. We make much more use of these than we used to – partly because our newish Rough Guide is not as good as older versions which were much more ‘camper friendly’ with their information and the out of the way places they wrote about, but also, because the OdTs seem to have an eclectic mix of tourist clichés, and also the odd gem we may not otherwise have known about. Plus, Mr B likes to practise his French – and the staff are usually much too polite to laugh…

 

Of course, as we walked back to Evie, we realised that we could have asked there if the Municipal site was open… but, buoyed by the weather and shortness of the drive, we swerved phoning and drove back along the coast and inland to the small village, where Mrs B had the foresight to check there was also a free parking area near the local sports centre…

 

Not much to look at and sandwiched between two roads, Camping Valley Dourdu promised hot showers, electricity and a possibly useful base to explore more of the coastline we had still to explore. It’s not unusual for Municipal sites not to have staff in attendance in the low season, so in spite of his reluctance to test his phone French again, Mr B pluckily called the number on the reception door, only to get an answerphone that seemed to say the site was indeed open…

 

So, with no-one about, but a few cars parked outside some static caravans, we wandered around, found the amenity block open and with piping hot water, but we had no clue how to get past the automatic barrier at the entrance. Whilst discussing whether we should just get our washbags and towels and nip in for a shower anyway, we were greeted by a friendly woman from one of the statics. Explaining our plight, she offered to phone the Mairie (as we had just done) and get someone to come over. This is how the conversation went:

 

Static woman: “There are two English here in a camping car…”

Town Hall: “How many nights do they want to stay?”

Us: “Two please”

Town Hall: “We closed for camping cars yesterday.”

Static Woman: “I’m really sorry, but you might find somewhere along the coast to park for the night…”

 

We had lots of ideas about what might have gone down during this exchange, but whatever the reason, we were now looking at plan B – so good job Mrs B had found somewhere with a nearby parking spot!

 

Disappointed that we might have just experienced a bit of a Johnny Foreigner-ist moment, we were pleased to find a huge car park in the same village, where, according to P4N, we would be able to stay the night undisturbed. So, parking up at one end next to a Boule Brettone plombée ‘lane’ (like pétanque but in a sunken narrow wooden-sided alley) so as to cause the least inconvenience, we had a quick mooch about the village, looking for a boulangerie/café for the morning. With a Bar/Tabac opposite an artisan Boulanger just five minutes away, it was looking good (where possible, we like to spend some time/money in these places that encourage or condone us campervanners as a way of saying thank you).

 

With the sun setting, and Mrs B busy rustling up dinner, we heard a strange series of loud banging noises that seemed to be coming from right alongside us…surely it wasn’t somebody playing in the Boule lane in the failing light?

 

Yup! Undeterred by the rapidly setting sun, a couple of lads, complete with  Gauloises hanging from their lips, were giving us a ringside display of what looked more like bowls than boules/pétanque. Guided only by the light of their glowing cigarettes, total darkness eventually stopped play and the lads sauntered off, leaving us to enjoy a peaceful night. It was only when we got up the next day to wander into the village, that we realised that with Evie’s height, we may have actually blocked a fair bit of light from reaching the lane – oops!

 

 

Switching our plan to have a leisurely coffee and croissant for a swift visit to the boulangerie and a quick exit before we were remonstrated with by the locals for our thoughtless parking, we did, at last, have the good sense to phone ahead to our next Municipal campsite adventure! On the other side of the Perros-Guirrec peninsula, the reception staff at Camping Municipal St Efflam had confirmed that yes, they were open all year, and yes, if we arrived before 1700, they would be very pleased to find us an emplacement for a couple of nights!

 

S&J

covering 17^th-19^th October

 

 

 

 

 

 

Campsite consternation; the genius of Aires; Breton Whisky; and on to the Pink Granite coast! Days 6-8

We may only be on our sixth day but, as we left the Cap d’Erquy under a leaden sky heading further west, we just knew we had to stop at the nearest Super U supermarket for more of these…

 

 

our new favourite French crisps – with lashings of what else of course, but Breton butter! We’ve never seen this flavour before and we’re still not sure whether they are a national treat or local to Breizh, but oh my goodness, what a heavenly crisp they are![1] We have fallen into the habit whilst driving on our adventures of having ‘journey crisps’ for days we spend largely on the road. France always comes out tops, and now, the bar has been raised yet again. In fact, it will be interesting to see whether any other flavours make it to the cab on this trip!

 

As we drove on west towards the Côte de Granit Rose, munching away on our chips, we decided to aim for a free Aire at Tréguier, with an eye to exploring up the coast and then moving on to a campsite right on a narrow spit of land surrounded by oyster beds near Plougrescant. The area looked amazing and (as with our trip to Scotland), was courtesy of a recommendation from one of Mrs B’s friends, Lindsay.

 

But first, to our stop over in Tréguier. It’s a port town located on the river of the same name and capital of the Trégor province, which, apart from the free Aire, promised one of those fabulous provincial markets the next morning before we headed off to the coast. We arrived in the rain towards the end of the afternoon, pulling into a lovely riverside parking area with free facilities for campervans and a short walk up the hill to the old town.

 

 

Once a bustling port (a hub for shipping potatoes amongst other things) it’s now a cosy ville touristique with a very helpful Office de Tourisme on the harbourside.

 

 

 

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We’d seen adverts for Breton whisky already, and in the tourist office we managed to pick up information about a couple of distilleries that were close enough to Tréguier to warrant a visit. After our accidental discovery of a lush Welsh single malt (Penderyn) when we were exploring Tintern Abbey earlier this year, which opened our eyes and taste buds to the idea of a wider Gallic history of single malts than we had been aware of, we’d said we’d keep an eye out for others – not realising that we’d find some in France!

 

The next morning saw a let-up in the rain, so we headed off early to the market where we’d promised ourselves more luscious Breton pastries with our coffees. Previous experiences with French markets saw us heading up the hill at a good pace, in order not to miss out on anything. But as we arrived in the square, we initially wondered whether we had got the wrong day, with only a handful of traders set up around the perimeter. The pictures we’d seen of a bustling market that spilled out of the square and down the street to the port, clearly only happened in season – and we were definitely out of season! We made a beeline for the seafood stalls that lined the semi-covered end of one side of the square, keen to see the shellfish that this area is famous for and marvelled at the huge variety on offer. Window shopping only this time though, as we were hoping to sample the local seafood in a restaurant or bar for lunch. After the obligatory coffee, another Kouign Amann and a slice of Pommé, another Breton delight in the form of a buttery apple pastry (yum!) we wandered back around the market, by which time, almost all the shellfish had been sold. A seafood lunch was off the menu as most restaurants seemed to be closed out of season, so we decided to head back to Evie for a stroll along the riverside…

 

 

and then drive up the coast to a Municipal campsite that was still open, according to ACSI…

 

Located on a tiny spit of land (Beg ar Vilin) not far from Plougrescant, the location looked like it would be stunning, with the sea on three sides of the site – some compensation for the return of dull weather. But, as we rounded the corner and the site’s flags were flapping in the breeze, we spotted a sign on the firmly closed gate… fermé pour congés. We may not have known then what ‘congés’ were (holidays), but we were left in no doubt that we weren’t going to be stopping here! And as this was the only campsite for some distance, we decided to bring forward our trip to the whisky distillery and then head back to the free Aire at Tréguier to re-plan! French Aires have always been a fave with us, and yet again we were saved by a generous bit of municipal planning and campervan friendly attitudes!

 

Mirroring almost exactly the location of our vexingly closed site, but located one estuary along the coast, the Celtic Whisky Distillerie on the L’armor peninsula delivered an outstanding tasting – with us both opting for the same choice, the Glann Ar Morr. Conveniently, there’s a free Aire just along the road from the distillery…

 

 

but, with the bays too short for Evie and the location back at Tréguier  much more appealing, we headed back, grateful that we had opted only for a ‘splash in the glass’ tasting!

 

Waking the next day to a more promising sky, we headed off for the Granit Rose coast, determined to speak to a person on reception at any campsite we might think was open! As neither of us is that good with French on the phone, our reluctance to use it had clearly not helped with our wasted journey to Plougrescant – a lesson learned, we thought…

 

S&J

(covering 15^th -17^th October)

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[1] We now know they are available all over – including the UK if you look hard enough! And, that Bret’s are a Breton company based in the region and using exclusively Breton spuds! Obvious with hindsight!