Douarnanez – Sardines (but not langoustines), socialism, sunbathing, a night-time surprise, and a campsite conundrum! Days 27-30

There are a couple of reasons why we chose Douarnenez as a destination: firstly, its reputation in Breizh as Sardine Central - we haven’t had any for lunch yet on this trip – and we do love a grilled sardine; and secondly, because the beaches looked promising and we might just have enough time to get some more beach reading/walking in!

Mrs B thinks that we might also need to do some intensive listening skills development with Mr B’s French on the phone however, as yet again we turned up during the 90 minute shut down for lunch time! As is our wont though, we took advantage of this, and (after checking our oxygen masks – it’s steep and hilly) we ascended the hill overlooking the town that Camping Trézulien is set on. We’d read that some pitches have sea views, and, as our altimeters started to reach their limits at the top end of the site, we found a couple of possibles – fingers crossed when reception opens!

We were in luck – greeted by a very friendly member of staff, we were booked in for three nights – plenty of time to explore – and relax! The pitch was set amongst rental cabins/chalets – something we are used to across Europe and they usually work out fine, often being empty in the week. This pitch was especially lovely, at the front of a terrace, with far reaching views across the bay. Setting up in our new ‘slimmed down’ mode of just chairs, table and a parasol, we enjoyed a quick bite to eat before heading off to explore the beaches, enjoying our (distant) sea view and the headland to the north…

Both reception and Google Maps told us it was a 20 minute walk to the nearest beach – Les Sables Blanc – well within Mr B’s trolley hefting capabilities – even with the steep climb on the return trip, he reassured Mrs B… So, after a 40 minute, largely urban and busy walk to the seaside, Mr B’s heavy hefting wasn’t going to be called into action, as the beach was small, windswept, and thronging with more teens than looked feasible for a small town. Great for wind / water sports or posing, we decided, as neither of these play to our strengths, that we’d save lying down at the beach for another time...

As a reward for returning to the site without needing our oxygen tanks, we got back to Evie and treated ourselves to some time in the pool instead…

...we are getting very used to these campsite pools!

On our way back to the site we stopped to have a look at the Aire just outside, run by the Campingcar Park/Pass Étapes network. They are a bit of a mixed bag and seem to be loved/hated in equal measure by fellow campingcaristes for this reason. At their best, they offer, year round: accurate on-line checks of availability; Electric Hook Up; WiFi; fresh, grey and waste water disposal; and secure barrier entry. And if you pay for an upgrade you can book ahead, and leave/re-enter the site for your pre-paid stay. (Unlike the entry-level package and practice in other Aires.) With an average price of €12-14, they can represent an excellent choice, as we found when we couldn’t get on a campsite in the Med once. 

At their worst, they can have faulty facilities that seem to take an age to get mended; can be very shabby and poorly maintained, as we also found out on an autumn trip when there was no working WiFi, no fresh water, and the on-site toilet was out of order.

We decided that this one in Douarnanez was fine – but we’d only be tempted if the site was closed, as you get an awful lot more for just a few Euros extra. They are very much a ‘let’s have a look first’ option! Starting off with just a handful of sites mainly inland and in the north of France, their network has expanded (perhaps too much, if the regular gripes about low standards are to be believed). This sign (which Mr B mistook for a consequence of Brexit) shows their expanding network…

As we settled into our pitch, enjoying the view, we debated whether we should be a bit more diligent in looking for the EHU point – we rarely need electric during sunny trips, but as it’s bundled in the ACSI price, we usually make the effort. Except we really struggled to find it this time! The site map showed it as down on the next terrace – so a good distance and probably requiring both of our EHU leads – a first in a very long time. So we put it off I instead!

We drifted off that night under starry skies, anticipating a lovely quiet night’s sleep. Which we did have...until 0615 when Mr B was woken by what he assumed was an early visit by a sludge gulper emptying the nearby sainitaire cess pit… But after another few minutes of what he thought was the pumping of poo, he suddenly leapt out of bed at the sound of sloshing water – yikes – Evie was awash in water, with the noise that Mr B had heard actually turning out to be a pump – but it was our own and it was pumping our hot water all over the floor! Throwing our luckily-to-hand beach towels from the pool visit into the rising water, Mr B turned off the pump switch (also luckily easily done with our 1950s style switch panel) he set to with mopping up, all the while muttering ‘oh no, oh no’ as he envisaged water getting under the Marmoleum tiles – which would guarantee them lifting if left – eek!

After 45 minutes of mopping, when he removed the lid of our ‘boiler room’ to see what had caused the leak, he was grateful that we hadn’t plugged into the mains, as the fault was a failed jubilee clip that had been blown off the top of the boiler under pressure from the pressurised water system! The angle of the discharge was pretty much straight at the adjacent hub for mains and 12v electrics, and although none of it had actually got wet, had the water continued to rise or spread…

After checking the other boiler pipe clips for tightness, Mr B added to his jobs list for when we get back, a complete checking of all the (many) jubilee clips in the entire water system! And as a new ‘camping’ rule we’ve decided to always turn the power off to the water pump at night and if we leave Evie unattended...

After Mr B had completed his daily outdoor morning yoga to decompress, we decided over breakfast that maybe we should hunt down that elusive EHU point, as heating up the hot water boiler (only available when driving or plugged in to mains electricity) would help dry out the wood that had got wet. But where on earth was it? After some persistent searching, Mr B found it hidden/camouflaged in a beautiful hydrangea bush – and it would indeed need both our hook-up leads…

Finding the extra EHU lead had required taking out the crate of ‘electrical stuff’ from Evie’s garage, and when Mr B discovered his stash of just-in-case adapters we never travel without, he realised one was stumping him (even though he had made them all himself!) …

Never one to pass on an opportunity to share his extensive (excessive) planning for all contingencies, having eventually remembered what number 7 was for, he has decided to share the pic above and explanation below, with any reader(s) that might share his approach…

From top to bottom, they are:

1. reverse polarity and failed/faulty earth tester

2. for plugging in at a friend’s who doesn’t have a CEE 16A blue ‘camping’ socket available

3. Schuko connector found on some older sites in Europe

4. reverse polarity connector

5. triple adapter where we might need to share an EHU point

6. straight but flexible CEE connector where we can’t get our plug in for whatever reason

And, strange but true, we have used all of these over the years!

Once Mr B had got over the excitement of finding the EHU point and what all his leads were used for, we headed off to explore the old town and maybe track down a lunch of sardines – fingers crossed! We started our exploration on the west bank of Douarnanez, luckily with its fresh food market still open! Delivering on its reputation as sardine central…

… it also offered live langoustines at only €14.95 a kilo! So, we could do our recipe from Madame at Point du Raz after all...except, by the time we bought some, walked them back up the hill to Evie and the fridge and then walked back and over the river into town for lunch, we would almost certainly be too late, with most of France not really offering a sit down lunch much beyond 1400. In the end, our desire for lunch won out, and as we are only at the start of the langoustine season, surely we’d find some before we returned home?

Our walk along the west bank took us through some of the narrow old streets of the original port, reminding us of many old Spanish towns and villages…

...to the edge of the marina, from where we could see the intriguing Île de Tristan, once home to one of the many ‘sardine barons’ and a packaging factory, but now only accessible by guided tours, and at low tide only…

The coastal path (the GR34 of course!) leads to a small footbridge across the estuary to the east bank, which is now the more visited part of Douarnanez – and where we hoped to have lunch with a view! The ‘route of the sardines’ which we more or less followed was well marked and had plenty of information boards in French, Breton and English – lucky us! The highlights of what we garnered were:

• the town has had a commercial relationship with sardines for over 300 years

• sardines were originally pressed in barrels before canning arrived in the late 19thC

• the factories (which smelled a bit) and the posh houses of the sardine barons, swapped sides of the estuary over the years

• commercial sardine fishing peaked in the late 19thC with up to 160m sardines being processed a year (who counted?)

• the sardines ended up being over fished (no surprises there)

• there is a special relationship with Norway, based on the annual import of ‘rogue’ the cod/haddock roe bait used in fishing (there was a Norwegian Consulate here once!)

But our favourite discovery was the fact that Douarnanez is known as one of France’s famous ‘Red’ towns, when, in the early 1900s, the growing social unrest with the demise of the sardine industry led to the creation of trade unions, an interest in and strong support for socialism, leading, ultimately to the founding of the first French communist town council in 1921! In fact two Douarnanistes were instrumental in the Great Strike of 1924 – go Douarnanez! 

Sated with our interest in social history, but still seeking our dream quayside restaurant offering grilled sardines, we pressed on, discovering this possible likeness of M. Aubèry in the backstreets…

...before we eventually found our sardine spot – and just about to close for lunch orders too – phew!

Unable to resist a Ricard whilst we waited…

our simple but absolutely delicious plate of sardines and chips was a real treat…

Enjoying a leisurely (we might have shared a large dessert of crème brulée!) stroll along the quay, we spotted this passenger yacht setting sail on what looked like an amazing trip along the coast under sail – definitely one for another time.

We also spotted this old wall painted advert for ‘Filet Bleus’ which we knew was something to do with sardines, possibly a brand, but we were not sure…

… until that is, we entered this shop with its wall of sardines…

...and we got chatting with the owner, who explained that as well as referencing the famous blue nets of the fishermen (and the regional annual sardine festival in August), from a culinary perspective, it refers to the ‘last catches’ of the season when the sardines are at their best (and fattest and bluest) apparently. M. le Patron (a German by birth) turned out to be a mine of information which, because of his excellent English, we were able to understand more than most of our shop encounters in French! We also learned about ‘algües’ (seaweed) used in cooking/eating and, after Mr B had tried out some of his German by way of making this retail experience as multi lingual as possible (he can’t help himself), we were very kindly gifted what the owner described as some ‘entry level’ seaweed to start our journey into algües-land! (Mr B is of the view that this was actually more to do with him taking a shine to Mrs B than his limited linguistic contributions!)

Passing lots of interesting looking places to eat subsequently, we wandered back to the site to rest, reflect on our knowledge of sardines, and plan our next stage of the trip – the route home – how did that come around so fast?!

Fortunately, our final day was on the dull side, so we had plenty of time to discuss and sketch out a possible route homewards towards Dieppe – as well as catch up on the blog and get some of those pesky van jobs (washing/tidying/toilet emptying/water filling) done! 

We ended up deciding that we’d head east in a general direction, stopping first at the nearby medieval town of Locronan and then see where we fancied. We did think we might have done this as a day trip from the site, but as has so often been the case this trip, we just ran out of time! Hopefully Locronan’s alleged difficulty in finding a spot to park won’t stop us tomorrow...

S&J 20.07.25

Pointes du Raz and Van – What was the point of visiting the Pointe du Raz? And, some recipe advice about Langoustines… Days 25-26

As we approached the Pointe du Raz, whilst pondering whether to sleep overnight at the visitor centre carpark, or a small farm campsite we had found on Park4Night, we had to chuckle at the idea of our trip westwards; heading to Cornouaille in general, and its tip in particular, because of a reference in Frenchman’s Creek by Daphne du Maurier to the home of its lead male character, the French pirate Jean-Benoit Aubéry! We both read the book recently and enjoyed it so much, we plan to put together a trip in Evie around its locations in Cornwall at some point. Maybe a bit too bonkers for some, we do like a focus or rationale for our trips – and as the passionate and turbulent relationship between M. Aubéry and Dona, Lady St Columb, and the potential for her to go to his home near the Pointe, is taken as a symbolic reference to the stormy and tempestuous seas at the Pointe du Raz, what’s not to like? Plus, it’s one of France’s 33 ‘Grand Sites’ that are recognised for their natural beauty/historical significance with a commitment to manage large visitor numbers sympathetically.

Torn between the idea of a nice quiet camp over in the carpark at the Pointe itself, and the attractions of a small site where we could get our tables and chairs out, we decided on the farm campsite and to go straight off to visit the Pointe as the weather was perfect.

Arriving at the car park, which is well set out with dedicated spaces for campervans and the ability to stay overnight for an extra €10 on top of the €8 daily parking fee, we both looked at each other with the same thought – maybe we should have come here first before deciding! 

Worth noting (especially for those who complain about the cost of parking) that the parking fees here are used support the tourist infrastructure and various environmental initiatives around both Pointes.

Although very touristy during daytime hours, it would have been pretty cool to have been amongst a small group of campervanners right out on the tip! And one of the vans we recognised as belonging to an Italian couple we met at our last stopover, who would have been fun to chat to! Deciding we’d chalk this one down for future reference, we headed out on the access path to see what all the fuss was about!

Access from the carpark is along a 1km stony path…

...requiring just enough concentration to avoid a twisted ankle, that visitors are very quickly presented with some truly magnificent views, with Mr B helping point out the famous lighthouse…

...the enormous statue of the Sailors’ Saint…

...some well preserved ‘moorland’ terrain with the French Navy semaphore station in the background…

...with spectacular views across to the Pointe du Van and its nearby surf beach at Baie de Trépassés…

...and one of the less frequently taken views, requiring Mr B to undertake some interesting photo taking positions…

You may have spotted a low lying island in the background of some of these photos – it’s the Île de Sein, a very low lying island 8km off the Pointe. It is particularly low lying, with only 1.5m average height above sea level, no trees, more than a little windy, with about 400 permanent residents and it can be visited by ferry. It’s also famous for being the most decorated French Commune for its service in WW2, when almost all males over 15 responded to General de Gaulle’s radio broadcast calling for volunteers to fight from England. Leaving in their own fishing boats, when they arrived in London, they made up 25% of all volunteers!

And for those interested in more ancient history, it also has a couple of megaliths as well as appearing in ancient myths and legends as the home of nine priestesses, the Cènes, who had supernatural powers, as well as featuring in some versions of the Arthurian legends as the birthplace of Merlin. You can probably tell we would have visited if we could have made it work this trip, as it sounds like a such magical place, but it will be joining a long list of places we’d like visit next time!

We took a leisurely stroll along the GR34 that took us back to the carpark, where we decided to pop into the visitor centre. As well as the usual very helpful information leaflets we have become used to, Mr B got chatting to the woman on reception about our trip, why we were there, and in particular, our love of the seafood! Pretty appalled at Mr B’s plans to cook ‘crevettes à l’Arabe’ that evening (in reality a pimped up prawn pilaf) Madame extolled the virtues of how we should be approaching local seafood, by making some langoustines à la vapeur – with only live langoustines of course (about 1-1.5 kg to share!) She also suggested that we accompany them with just some fresh mayonnaise, some pain de siegle (rye bread) with salted butter, and a bottle of cold Muscadet sur Lie. We do love a challenge and after Madame had written this all down for us, we left with the intention of having a go! (See the subsequent entry on Douarnenez to see how we fared...) 

Back at the carpark and just about to head off to our campsite, we bumped into that Italian couple, who were staying overnight, just heading off with a picnic hamper and wine to watch the sunset...oh well!

Back at the campsite soon after, we quickly got over our frustrations about maybe having made the wrong choice of location for the night, and we settled in to enjoy Mr B’s cooking, followed by a lovely clear star studded sky (it was dark so late we were already in bed before we spotted it through the skylight!) and a fabulously quiet night’s sleep. It’s a lovely quirky site in Kerguidy Izella, with spacious pitches, simple but very effective sanitaires, and a great value tariff!

Packing up the next morning, we decided to have a look at the nearby Pointe du Van which we had seen yesterday, and had heard via the Italians, allowed free parking and overnight camping! Although we knew we wouldn’t stay the night this time, as we wanted to get to our next destination before the weekend, it would be worth investigating!

And it most certainly was, with more breathtaking views from a quick stroll along the GR34…

...a beautiful old chapel which was going to host one of the famous Breton pilgrimages (or Pardons) shortly…

...and a very clear view of the Ile de Sein…

Our drive to the Pointe du Van had taken us past the surf beach of the Baie de Trépassés, which looked quite spectacular, but was very windy and with warnings of the toxic fumes from algae that we encountered on our autumn trip last year, we decided to drive past on this occasion. There’s also a 31km off road cycle trail nearby as well as some historic windmills – and we never did find M. Aubéry’s house, except in our imaginations….

Suffice to say there’s more than enough to call us back here, and, as we headed off to our next site in the sardine-central town of Douarnenez (Mr B having nailed the advance booking in his now well rehearsed set of French phrases) we agreed that it’s an area that is well worth a revisit for sure!

S&J 16.06.25

Le Helles – a beachside haven, catching up with old friends, another ride to a port, and elusive onglet... Days 21-24

Mrs B had spotted Le Helles campsite in Sainte-Marine, opposite the very busy port town of Bénodet, a little while ago and thought it looked good, so when we heard from our friends Tony and Jonquil that they had booked a couple of nights there before they headed for home via Roscoff, we were very excited. We’d last seen them in Cordoba in 2016 where we had spent a fun night reminiscing over a delicious paella rustled up by Tony. 

A lot of water has passed under our various bridges since then, and we were looking forward to a catch up – as long as Mr B could succeed with the advance booking…

Feeling by now like a seasoned, if not very proficient pro, Mr B could barely contain his excitement when he reported back that not only had he been able to book us in for three nights to start with, extending as we wished, but he’d managed to do it at the ACSI rate – at last!

Less successful, however, were his listening skills about closing time for lunch, so we arrived with 45 minutes to kill whilst the staff enjoyed their 90 minute lunch. As with Raguénez Plage, we used the time to have a walk around the site and choose a few pitches that met our by now, very particular requirements! Upon the return of the reception staff however, Mr B was informed that we couldn’t choose, as there was a limited choice of ‘open ended’ pitches. Seeing the disappointment spreading across Mr B’s face, the receptionist showed Mr B the allocated pitch – and, result – it was our second choice! Phew!

Before long we had set up on our nice and airy pitch…

...and taken a walk down to explore the beach, which was a very pretty 300m walk past some allotments…

...through a beautifully shaded tunnel-like wooded section…

...arriving at a long and dune-backed sandy beach…

Needless to say, the next day saw us conduct a proper Babley assessment of the beach, concluding that although it didn’t match the fine white sand paradise of Raguénez Plage/Tahiti Beach, it would most certainly do! And the swimming was excellent – largely by virtue of being quite a bit warmer!

And after a rigorous day of testing completed, we just had to make a similar assessment of the campsite pool…

… which also passed muster!

With T&J arriving the following evening, after a lazy re-checking of our views of the beach in the morning, taking advantage of the higher tide, we started to tidy up and, in Mrs B’s case, start the prep for dinner for the four of us at ours, returning the hospitality of that Cordoban paella. We’d managed to get some fresh Rousette, which Mrs B fashioned into a delicious Spanish style fish casserole, with lashings of garlic and parsley, which was much enjoyed by all of us, along with some lush Rosé. And over a few glasses we chatted nineteen to the dozen about the various events that had unfolded over the intervening years, until we noticed the campsite had started to quieten down – we were up against the curfew – 2300 hours here!

With sated tummies and the warm glow of friendships renewed, we agreed to catch up the following evening, this time eating out. Both couples had spotted a lovely bar/restaurant nearby, at the back of the beach, with a menu that floated all of our various boats… except it wasn’t open on Mondays, after T&J had moved on!

The next day, after another session at the beach, facilitated by Mr B in his usual donkey mode hauling our gear…

...we decided to get Freddy and Fanny out and cycle down to the port of Sainte-Marine, to explore our dining options. Just across the bay from Bénodet, reached by a regular passenger ferry, we were taken by the picturesque setting…

...which included a number of choices for dinner. So, whilst taking a short rest over beer and coffee at one of them, we liaised with T&J by phone, settling on one with a very pleasing range of classic coastal French cuisine. Walking over to make a booking for that evening, Mr B discovered that all the terrace tables were booked (the weather has been fabulous) so we were reassured that we would be OK inside with its air conditioning...

… and indeed we were!

Bidding farewell to T&J the next morning, promising to try not to leave it quite so long next time…

… we decided to explore to the west along the GR34 and combined cycle route to the small village of Île Tudy, set right at the end of a narrowing peninsula with a view across to the much larger town of Loctudy, one of the ports in Breizh that still has sardine boats (more on this later!).

The ride was mercifully flat, and having started under light cloud, we were pleased to be joined by the sun when we arrived at the small quay where foot passengers could get the ferry over to Loctudy…

It’s a very picturesque little village…

...with an iconic view of the lighthouse across the estuary …

...and small outside art gallery, showing the sea in a slightly rougher state than on our visit…

...with a superb long sandy beach…

...complete with an amazing and well-priced municipal campsite at the back of the beach…

The site was almost full – but what an amazing location!

The cycle back was fun – we’d managed to get a headwind in each direction of course – but as we were intending to book at the beachside resto near our campsite, we flew back to make sure we got a table (we did, and at the civilized time of 2030) with Mrs B racing ahead again on the off-road section back through the tree tunnel…

… arriving back at Evie with just enough time for a cheeky swim before getting ready for dinner, passing the allotments again…

Dinner was great fun. La Chaumière had onglet on the menu which Mr B was getting very excited about, as we haven’t seen it that often! And we didn’t see it that evening either, as it was sold out, leaving Mr B with his second choice of artisan sausage and posh mustard mash, with Mrs B opting for the much more interesting whole Daurade with mango and citron vert sauce, after a delicious starter of fish croquettes...

Dessert was fun – we usually share, with the conversation going something like this:

Mr B: “Fancy a pudding?”

Mrs B: “No – but you go ahead…”

Mr B: “How about sharing (insert sweet pudding of choice)?”

Mrs B: “Oh, OK then…”

The ordering of the pudding was a linguistic delight. We both love the French accent and when the waitress confirmed that we wanted “Brrroonie a partager” we decided that from here on in, that’s what we’d have to call a Brownie!

With the sun already setting, and the chill-out music filling the evening air, we agreed that Sainte-Marine was somewhere we’d happily come back to – it’s ticked a number of boxes, and were it not for the fact that we really must make an effort and get to our ‘destination’ of Pointe du Raz, we’d easily have stayed longer!

The area around Pointe du Raz (it’s the Breizh equivalent of Land’s End) is pretty isolated, with our overnight options being staying over in the visitor centre car park for an extra €10 (€8 to park) or a small farm with 10 pitches at €16…

As usual, we chose to decide once we were there…

S&J 06.06.25