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
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