apathtosomewhere

Not sure what woke us both up at 2:30am this morning – the crashing sound or the howling of the wind, but we both sat upright as a big flash of lightning lit up the interior of the Van. A storm!

We then jumped out of bed – our rear window was wide open as were the skylights, so we battened ourselves down and then remembered the table outside. Hubby opened the side door to find a bare patch of earth where the table and our big hugemungus outdoor mat were a few hours ago, but were now missing. A quick look left, found them stuck against the metal fencing, separating the campsite from the River Loire! We put them under the hedge where they were protected from the wind and jumped back into the Van. There was no rain, just this howling wind and the lightning periodically lighting up the night sky, with the odd rumble of thunder – the storm was quite a few miles away.

We settled back into bed and watched the poor couple, diagonally opposite to us, galloping around in their pyjamas, trying to get their awning in and all their tables, chairs, bikes and other paraphernalia that us campers tend to leave outside into their motorhome. Finally after about 15 minutes of dashing around with headtorches, they also retired but left their outdoor light on. It all seemed to calm down after that, the wind dropped, the storm petered out, but then it rained. I finally drifted off to sleep, despite the glare of the outdoor light and the heavy pattering of rain on the roof.

It was still very damp and soggy in the morning, but had stopped raining. Last night, in a desperate bid to prevent any more bites, I had taken an antihistamine pill, slathered my existing bites in cream and smeared insect repellent over other exposed parts of the body and hoped for the best. It seemed to have worked as my multiple bites had settled down somewhat and had stopped itching. We studied the three weather apps trying to figure out if we were going to get wet, one of which came true as the heavens opened again and we were forced to retreat into the Van. When it eased off, we decided to take our chances and investigate the town – we were just dropping off some rubbish by reception when this ghostly wail sounded across town – like an air raid siren, slow and mournful. We looked at each other with raised eyebrows – was it a flood alert or some other catastrophe and looked for panicking people. There was nobody about, so we checked in with reception who nonchalantly explained that the town’s emergency siren was always tested on the first Wednesday of the month and to stand down. Feeling relieved, we wandered down to the campsite gate to get onto the riverside path, but had forgotten the gate code. Finally we got our act together and found ourselves at the roundabout in the middle of town. We headed towards the chateau overlooking the Loire, before heading up a side road and strolling through ‘le coeur historique de Montsoreau’, a pretty little cobbled street, though the cobbles looked relatively new and the buildings seemingly sandblasted (I could be wrong). We went to the ticket office of the chateau to peer at it close up, but knowing the dog probably wouldn’t be allowed in, we just admired it before we went back to the little street. We dropped down by another little roundabout and found ourselves by a road sign declaring the end of Montsoreau and the beginning of the village of Candes St Martin, both of the towns contesting the title of the “Les plus beaux villages de France”. We wandered the length of its main street, seeing about four people if we were lucky and getting startled when we approached a little square to find the domineering frontage of yet another oversized church. It seemed so out of proportion to its surrounding neighbours.

https://www.tourainevaldeloire.com/en/discover/towns-and-villages/the-most-beautiful-villages-in-france/candes-saint-martin

We got to a point where the village was running out. There was a little brown sign marked “panoramie pietons”, basically a path up to a viewpoint. So we set off up steep stony path, through a couple of little lanes with houses and a smallholding and yet another and even steeper, stonier path which finally flattened out and opened out on a wide plateau overlooking the Loire and Vienne river confluence. Though it hadn’t rained, the clouds were low and dark, causing a heavy mist to descend across the landscape – it would of been great in better weather. It was a good viewpoint, except a row of marching electricity pylons and a road bridge marred it somewhat.

We retraced our steps back into the village, investigating another path back down to the main street. It was very humid so we took our waterproofs off and wandered through the municipal park to look at the street art installations (basically legal graffiti). We dropped back onto the banks of the Loire and strolled back to the large restaurant at the roundabout, where yesterday it was busy with afternoon drinkers, now empty with the inclement weather. We sat down and ordered wine and something to eat – struggling to choose something pescatarian (the cheese paninis were off the menu), I ordered fish and chips and felt very much the Brit abroad.

The meal was very nice as we watched the town get on with life – the sky turned dark, then brightened, then a shower whistled through. It was still reasonably warm and we had managed to dodge the rain today so far. We went to go to the little local supermarket, but it was closed on Wednesdays, so our plan to stock up with supplies was somewhat scuppered. In consolation we went to the patisserie and bought a loaf of bread and two very delicious cakes. Afterwards, we hauled ourselves up another steep hill to the troglodytes, a series of dwellings and houses built into the cliff side, high above the Loire. Some looked like they were either lived in or used as holiday homes, others looked abandoned. We walked until we came to a dead end and we could go no further, so we decided to head back to the Van. On the way back, it started to rain heavily, so we quickly donned our waterproofs and quickened our pace back to base. The skies were still leaden, so we unwound our awning so we could, at least, sit outside rather than being cooped up in the Van. After a while, the temperature dropped and we retreated inside to plan tomorrow’s adventure and to check in with family back home. Showers, some quite heavy, whipped through and it remained overcast and grey.

https://www.parc-loire-anjou-touraine.fr/en/territory/architecture/troglodytic-underworld

About 7:30pm,the winds started to pick up again, whipping the awning. So we packed everything away, rolled in the awning and held our huge outdoor mat down with tent pegs, so it wouldn’t go on any midnight excursions. It was decidedly chilly now, so we shut up shop and made ourselves beans on toast and watched some catch up tv. Tomorrow we’re heading due south and a little nearer to the Pyrenees.

I’ve been nibbled. Badly.

I awoke just before dawn with a really itchy foot and found at least three little bumps. I reached for my antihistamine cream which I had cleverly stored in the cubby hole in the back door, exactly for this purpose and promptly dropped it. Of course, it found the only gap between the back door and the mattress and fell with a clunk into the garage below.

With the sky lightening, I watched the wispy cloud surreptitiously turn into a larger darker cloud before the rising sun dispersed it back again, in a vain attempt to distract from my itchy foot. We got up and made a brew, while I counted my bites (quite a few as this foot had been quite exposed outside the duvet) – the Pup threw up for some unknown reason and then I went off to have a really nice hot shower, which was marred by the French insistence of installing those push buttons that let the water run for about 15 seconds. I’m all for saving water, but come on, a minute at least so I can have time to shampoo my hair and not constantly and blindly stabbing for the knob!

So we headed off and slipped into the Loire Department. It has been very dry here during the summer, the ground rock hard. All our grass camping pitches on this trip have been dry and dusty, with just a hint of green pushing through from recent rains. It was 26 degrees already today.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/UNESCO

We passed through towns and villages with tall and dominant churches, their spires piercing the sky. France was once very much Catholic country, hence the cathedral size places of worship, but is now more secular. The churches were stunning and seemed to sit in a prominent position in the centre of town – dominating the end of a street, making you feel guilty for ignoring it. You could see why everybody in town went to church!

We stopped at the town of Oudon on the banks of the River Loire, after finding a large campervan car park – more like an aire – which was free, grassy and under trees. We walked up the road and had a wander – up to the impressive chateau (sadly closed today) by the little tributary river, the Vallee du Havre. We felt a little peckish so walked back down to a little cafe sitting on the roundabout on the sunny side of the street and found a table outside – we ordered coffees and asked if there was a menu. The woman who served us, indicated that you had to eat inside for a meal – we pointed to the Pup (et le chien?). She pulled a face of maybe, but probably not, so we just ordered coffees, trying to figure the logic which there was none. The woman gave us a Gallic shrug and went off to get our drinks.

https://www.bienvenue-pays-ancenis.com/en/discover/essential/oudon

Still hungry, we wandered back up to the Vallee du Havre where there was another little restaurant and asked for a table (in French). The waitress launched into a frenzy of French and spotting my bewildered face, asked if English was better. (Oui, we replied). So we sat on a shady wooden terrace looking over the little waterway and looked at the set menu – the main course was very carnivore heavy, but bless her, the waitress offered me the option of two veggie entrees – one as a starter and one as a main. She also imparted with a little bit of advice – instead of ordering cafe au lait and want it large, ask for a Grande crème – she then presented us with a big milky coffee. Et voila!

Afterwards, we decided to walk off our lunch by walking down to the Loire river – we crossed over the road, dropping down to the bank of the Vallee du Havre, wandered across to the railway station, ducked under a bridge and came across the shores of River Loire, wide and edged with woodland. There was a little sandy bank and we let the Pup off the leash – she dived straight into river and had a swim, she was so happy. We spent about 20 minutes, letting our hound burn off some pent up energy, spotting shoals of little fish darting around.

We retraced our steps back to the Van, stopping briefly at a patisserie to purchase a baguette and a can of apple juice (3 euros!). Once back at the Van, the Pup decided to celebrate with some high speed zoomies, circling the Van – she certainly was full of beans. We dried her off as best we could and headed to Montsoreau where we would spend the night.

It took a couple of hours as we took the country roads rather the motorway – passing through pretty towns and villages, all devoid of life. Where do French people go, there’s not a soul about. Chatgpt gave us a few answers to muse over as we crossed this little corner of France – sometimes we got a ridge, allowing long distance panoramic views and then the vineyards started making an appearance! Wine country!

We arrived in Montsoreau nestling on the banks of the River Loire and eventually found the L’Isle Verte campsite, after a brief tour of town courtesy of the satnav. We had taken a chance as we hadn’t booked this one in advance this morning and just rocked up. Again, my hesitant French gave the game away and the guy dropped into English, (though I like to persist in French). Yes, there was room and we were soon booked in (though they wanted to know a lot about us including Pup’s microchip number). We found pitch No 8 looking across the River Loire, looking low after the long hot summer. We set up shop, had a chill, made tea and took Pup on a stroll around the site where she was admired by a Dutch couple and played with a little poodle. There were about five other British campers and a few Dutch. We were going to walk into town, but decided that we would book another night here and leisurely check out the town tomorrow. Slightly paranoid about gnats and other bitey bugs, we headed indoors and chilled. It was still quite warm (it hit 28 degrees this afternnon according to the Van) and one weather app was predicting a storm. Rain was forecast over night which would lower temperatures tomorrow.

https://www.ot-saumur.fr/en/arts-and-history/towns-and-villages/montsoreau

Montsoreau is part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site in this area, has Troglodyte dwellings in the cliffs (we saw some during our campsite walk) and of course the eponymous Chateau. There was a lot to discover tomorrow!

Another stunning morning with the promise of another 26 degrees. We were on the move again, this time heading initially to the little village of Rochefort en Terre. So we packed up, sorted the Van out and headed off along tree lined countryside, passing many woodlands and forests. We also came across many roundabouts – they were seemingly endless, so we asked Chatgpt about the history of them. France probably has around 40,000 – 50,000 roundabouts, more than any other country, proliferating in the 1980’s to reduce traffic accidents and to keep traffic flowing. Their very first roundabout, at Place de l’Etoile, appeared in the 19th century, but it wasn’t until 1907, that they thought it was a good idea to get everyone to go round it in the same direction.

We also noted how many funeral parlours/directors there are, mainly located on main roads with huge plate glass windows and elaborate displays of headstones and floral tributes. I think us Brits are just a bit more discreet with such things.

We arrived in Rochefort en Terre through a craggy valley and found a generous campervan car park (7 euros for 24 hours) and went to check out the village. It’s a very pretty, traditional place with cobbled roads running through. We wandered around, went into the biscuit shop and bought some bits and went to the end of the village. As we were hungry, we sauntered back to a little place overlooking a little square, with a tiny outdoor dining area. A couple of people were already there, so we just took a table and sat down – they took a little time to come to us and we wondered if we had made a cultural faux pas for not asking for a table for two beforehand. Anyway, a waitress came up to us, hubby asked a question and she dashed off and got the main man. He was a little gruff, but he took our order and we enjoyed the sun. However, we were in the full sun and realised our seating choice wasn’t the best. Our food came as more people came in – the waitress hung a sign with “Complet” in big black letters at the entrance, but people still wandered in. A group of four young girls went inside and were soon ushered out again by the gruff owner, who crossly pointed to the sign and berated them. It was a bit brutal. We exchanged looks with the French couple opposite us and agreed between us that they had learnt a hard lesson. Oh dear.

We finished our lunch washed down with dry cider and continued our tour of the village – we strolled back towards the bottom of the road where the entrance to the chateau was, but got distracted by a side alley before we got there and wandered up there. It popped us in front of the chateau which was a bonus – it was a beautiful building, with its own chapel and shady garden. The information boards were in French, but I gathered that it was built on this high ground for protection from any passing and invading hordes. We had a nice look around and wandered down to the entrance, dropping down to another village road. It was a lovely little place.

https://www.rochefortenterre-tourisme.bzh/explorer/voyager-dans-le-temps/rochefort-en-terre-petite-cite-de-caractere/chateau-de-rochefort-en-terre

We walked back to the Van and made a cuppa under the shady tree. We then headed off to La Gacilly to see what that was like, but it didn’t float our boat so we carried onto to our campsite – it was gone 4pm.

The campsites are not particularly busy now and we were able to chose our little pitch. We backed onto a children’s playpark which would of been hell in the summer, but now it was closed for the season. Someone was shouting into a megaphone, like calling the troops and we hoped that wouldn’t last long. A walk with Pup later on around the site, revealed it be surrounded by sports facilities and a school. At the moment, it was all very peaceful. With all the campsites we’ve stayed in, every one has been a mixture of motorhomes/campers and small, stubby little static caravans, each with a little balcony/patio area covered with an awning – its almost a standard requirement. This place had a few safari style tents sitting under the trees too.

We relaxed in the evening sun and had a tea of cheese and French bread and the last of last night’s white wine. We’ve noticed that the birds are always singing especially robins, which seem to be particularly prolific – yesterday, one was happily picking up crumbs off our outdoor mat.

We checked out the washrooms, very pleasant and actually got loo paper in the cubicles (felt a right chump going over there with my loo roll in my hand), but we’re back to unisex. Not so bothered as hardly anyone is here, but there must be a ablution block out there which ticks all my boxes.

The Hubby and Pup went for a walk as the sun was setting and didn’t return til after dark – they had gone down to the river in the gloom and ended up walking through woods in the dark. They returned safely and we sat inside with the side door open, but with the flyscreen across as we didn’t fancy any nippy bugs having a party with us and having another Cranefly-gate. We’ve had a few encounters with French wasps who are huge and the meanest looking flying creatures we’ve seen for a while.

It was still very warm – it could be a sticky night.

Another lovely morning and we headed to Carnac’s Sunday morning market. It was about a 20 minute walk through the residential streets until we bobbed out into a street, with the beautiful church at one end, the bells ringing for morning service. All around it, the shops and restaurants were open and the whole place buzzed. People meandering around, cars nosing their way through and threading their way at alarming speeds, were numerous people on bikes who seemed impatient that you were in their way – we had to have our wits about us!

We found the market down a side road lined with cafes, with stalls either side, stretching down the street. We wandered down one side, looking at the wares with the intention of turning round and viewing the opposite side. However, when we got to the bottom, we discovered that it expanded even further into a large square. So we strolled up and down the aisles and eventually covered all it all. There were so many stalls selling all sorts. We decided to have a coffee up by the church, adding a slice of banana bread to our order and then across the road to the patisseries for some baguettes. We went back into the market and got some salad bits for tea – I was nearly tempted to buy some clothes, but the jumpers were all cashmere and pricey – a price I would expect to pay in a shop than a market. Saying that, they felt very good quality. Then I remembered that I had a ton of clothes back home and didn’t need any more – but travelling with just a week’s worth of clothes feels like you’re wearing the same thing every day. Basically I was envious of all the French ladies – they wore simple things like trousers, a top, a jacket with a scarf tied around the neck and a pair of loafers which was so simple, yet so stylish. It didn’t help that they all looked like a size 8 and everything hung so effortlessly. Maybe when my Van wardrobe started falling apart after being worn so much, I would treat myself.

Afterwards we discovered that dogs weren’t allowed in the market – oops. Saying that, there were plenty of other dogs wandering around with their owners and nobody said anything to us. I love the way everybody ignores all the signs – the dogs on the beach, parking on pavements, it’s so French. We presumed that dogs weren’t allowed because of their tendency to poop and their owners disinclination to pick it up (careful in grassy areas). We seemed to be the only ones carrying a poop bag around until we found a suitable receptable to bung it in.

https://www.biocoop.fr/?srsltid=AU7gw4UQA0H8-Aaygl8kO3V1o6BLjwplMwdelpcok-yTcB7fCH7COUXT

We discovered that there was an organic shop just around the corner, so wanting milk and butter, we headed to Biocoop, a fabulous little supermarket stuffed full of everything organic and bio. We got there just in time as they were just starting to shut up shop and were the last people out (apparently, they have branches all over France, so we will head to them rather than a Lidl or Super U). We had planned to walk from there to Le Geant du Manio, the tallest of the megalithes, standing over six metres tall, some 3kms away so we walked up the street before turning down a little shady footpath, signposted with a little yellow sign. Within a few minutes, we came across the Chapelle Saint-Michel de Carnac, pointed out to us on the land train tour yesterday – a local view point with a 360 degree panoramic view of the town and countryside, sitting on top of a prehistoric tumulus. On this bright sunny day, it was stunning.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint-Michel_tumulus

We realised at this point, that we had no water and a little worried about the Pup, dropped down to the hotel at the bottom of the tumulus – it was very busy with people all dressed up in their Sunday best and a bit posh for us. We went into the hotel entrance and to the empty bar to ask the staff for a bowl of water for the dog, which they kindly obliged. Apparently, they were hosting a wedding (oops). They wouldn’t sell us any bottled water for some reason, so we thanked them on the behalf of the Pup and made our merry way.

We followed the little footpaths through the woods and bobbed out in the little hamlet of Kermario, happily looking at the houses. At one house, an electricity pole had literally snapped in half and had come to a rest against a fellow pole. It had obviously been reported as the authorities had put a little barrier around the offending pole. However, its wires now draped along the ground, snagged in hedges and bushes and dangled precariously across driveways until they joined the adjacent pole with no effort to protect the passing public from it. Perhaps it was deemed perfectly safe, sheathed in thick black rubber, but we didn’t test the theory.

We walked a little further until we reached the megalithes we saw yesterday – we recognised the tomb on the corner. We walked along the road for a little way and then joined the boardwalk, heading towards a ruined circular tower. It was originally part of a farm that was built there, which the tower is the only building left. Inside, there was a metal spiral staircase and onto a viewing platform where you could view the megalithes standing in their rows, getting a much better perspective of their layout.

We dropped down from the tower and headed under the shady trees again, along a dust path for nearly a kilometre. In a clearing in the woods, was the Geant du Manio, stood upright and towering over the little clearing. Standing on its own, it was surrounded by a low level wall and some half hearted single wire fencing. A notice informed us that we couldn’t go any closer as they were preserving the site (people had apparently been chucking stones on top of the Geant and damaging it) – it was all a bit pointless as you only needed to step over the fencing and you were in!

https://www.menhirs-carnac.fr/en/discover/the-giant-of-manio

We took some photos – it was certainly impressive, surrounded by trees, and seemingly isolated, it gave it more gravitas. How prehistoric man got it upright in the first place was an amazing achievement and for it to survive for thousands of years even more so. We decided to wander back to our campsite – it was a simple walk westwards, following the boardwalks and footpaths straight back, no more than 30 minutes. The day was hot and we were glad to get back to the Van and get the kettle on. It was 2.30 and the reception was due to re-open after their extended lunch and let the new campers in (they had a little parking area where you had to park before you checked in). The kettle whistled and I bounced in to make cups of tea and let out a howl of despair – the milk we had bought must of curdled as there were lumps of cream circling in our cups. On further investigation we then realised that we had picked up fermented milk, ideal for making cheese or for baking, but clearly not for making a brew. A quick gallop to the site’s shop and we purchased a carton of proper milk and the emergency was over. We sat down under our awning and watched the newcomers coming looking for their pitches and the size of some of the units was ridiculous – they seemed to take ages to pass, they were that long. We thought we were big, but we think we were one of the smaller campers – we wondered what they did if their satnav decided to take them down some of the roads and dead ends we had visited.

We had new neighbours opposite, a French couple and a German couple. They set up their chairs and tables and faced their Vans. The Europeans don’t really acknowledge fellow campers – you might get a smile or a “bonjour”, but nobody really engages and talks to each other like on British campsites – you would expect the French to talk to other French people and likewise with the Germans, but all around us, it was very quiet. We were the only Brits on our little row of campers, though we met a lovely English lady and her spaniel this morning and got chatting, like us English do.

We spent the afternoon reading and watching passing motorhomes and campers on their way to the ablution block. It was very warm with hardly any cloud (26 degrees). We made ourselves a little entrée with some little biscuits and tuna mixed with mayo, spring onions and canapes (we ate them when we were in St Malo’s walled city, loved them and decided to replicate them) washed down with white wine. Later we made a salad from our shopping expedition this morning and after washing up and a quick tidy, we planned our next few days on the road.

We’ve decided to head inland, heading in an easterly direction before turning south – we had hugged the coast for quite a while, so wanted to delve deeper into France. As night fell, we headed indoor and relaxed until it was time for bed.

A blooming Daddy Long Legs (a crane fly) got into the Van last night and evaded all efforts to evict him. He finally flew into the bedroom area where the Pup was laying and where a reading light was on. We were up front, watching Traitors, but I noticed Pup’s ears prick up and she began to clock him. He made the fatal mistake of landing near her and she gave him a quick gnash. He must of staggered up to my pillow as Pup’s head followed him, still gnashing away. Unlike our last dog, a master fly catcher who also got rid of the evidence by eating them, our Pup left the body parts of the aforementioned and now former insect on my side of the bed. Thanks dog.

We were very slow this morning – we had a lay in, no rush to get up and then sat outside reading and taking in the morning sun. We had a brunch and then decided to walk from the campsite to Maison des Megalithes and be very touristy – catch a ride on the land train.

https://www.brittanytourism.com/destinations/the-10-destinations/southern-brittany-morbihan-gulf/carnac

https://www.lepetittraindecarnac.fr/en

Carnac is home to the world’s largest collection of prehistoric megalithic stones, with thousands of them spread over 4 kms and the easiest way to see them is by land train. We walked past a couple of fields of them, all lined up in rows as we walked the 1.2 km to the Maison des Megalithes, a concrete visitor centre with acres of parking and the pick up point for the train. We had timed it perfectly – we bought our tickets (8.50 euros each for a 55 minute tour), jumped aboard with the Pup, donned some headphones and we were off.

The train trundled its way down in Carnac’s town centre, before dropping down further on to the coast and yet another sweeping bay. Huge villas and houses overlooked the sea – it was very beautiful. We followed the coastal road to La Trinite-sur-mer, its bay and port full of yachts and sail boats. Apparently, all the world class sailors gather here as it’s a well known centre for sailing. Across the road. numerous bars and restaurants lined the street, every one busy and bustling. It was all very much upmarket and had a lovely atmosphere. The little land train turned inland and we headed towards the Alignements – they were truly fascinating, hundreds of them positioned upright and in rows by prehistoric man – an amazing sight. They were all fenced off, but sheep were allowed to graze to keep the vegetation down. It was quite incredible.

https://www.baiedequiberon.co.uk/la-trinite-sur-mer

The land train continued its journey and finally brought us back to Maison des Megalithes. The visitor centre was shut, but didn’t allow dogs in anyway. So we wandered back a different route to the campsite and decided to have a down day. We sat in the sun, reading and watching other campers wander by, for the rest of the afternoon. Then we made some tea, treated ourselves to some icecream, washed up and relaxed back into our chairs again.

Tomorrow, Carnac has a Sunday market, so we’ll waddled down into town and check that out and maybe walk out to the bigger megalithes, one being over 6 metres tall.

Another glorious morning of bright blue skies, though heavy with autumn dew.

We cooked ourselves breakfast this morning instead of munching our way through pain au raisins and croissants – we treated ourselves to a bacon sandwich and scrambled egg on toast followed by cups of Yorkshire tea.

I went for a shower, noting that this was the best so far for hanging your stuff whilst showering. A bit alarmed to find a man in his underpants wandering around (must stop being so British), but good facilities. Later, it was my turn to do the washing up, only to find the sinks were in the same room as the showers, loos and washbasin – luckily it wasn’t busy, but a guy came in and went into one of the toilet cubicles behind me. So weird.

So we packed up and headed out towards Bendodet. Hubby went there when he was nowt but a nipper and wanted to go back and reminisce. We dropped down onto the front, looking across the Bay of Biscay twinkling in the sunshine, a wide sandy beach swooping around in a graceful arc. We parked up on the street, in bays where a sign declared “no vehicles more than 3.5t”. We were heavy, but not that heavy, so we jumped out and walked along the wide promenade lined with trees. It was very beautiful, clean and tidy. Benodet had an air of wealth about it and the people strolling around reflected that. It also felt it was a place where retired people came to live. It was very quiet as if it was taking a deep breath after a frenetic summer which was nice. We wandered the length of the bay and curved around into the mouth of the river l’Odet where sailing boats raced or gently bobbed in the current. We got to a point where it looked like it was becoming more like a port area and a little more industrial, so we turned back, looking for a cafe and a coffee. There was one place overlooking the sea that was busy, but had room when we first passed – by the time we came back, it was heaving. We looked the menu, we only wanted coffee and cake, but it was a full lunch menu. We carried on, but only found a couple more which were closed. So we went back to the Van, past these little doors under the promenade – the French version of our beach huts, but all concrete and metal doors. Very utilitarian and no romance whatsoever.

https://www.benodet.fr/en/discover-benodet

We had a think about what to do next and we began to Google (awful that we rely so much on technology, but it’s so easy and convenient). We found the Pointe du Moustenil, a view point further along the coast so we drove to that – we would have onboard cheese and biscuits and no doubt, a cuppa when we arrived. There was no coastal road, so we had to drive inland before heading down the next headland. There were a lot of Grand Design styled housing – the angular box with big windows – dotted around here, mixed in with traditional housing. We’ve seen quite a few spectacular ones since starting our trip.

We were back on the coast, with another sprawling beach and after a bit of messing around, we parked up on the road again and looked out over the waters. We made ourselves a cuppa and broke into the cheesy biscuits, sitting on the side door of the van with our binoculars, scanning the view. The coastline swept around down towards L’Orient and out in the distance was a cluster of islands. It was a beautiful day and very warm. Just perfect.

https://www.tourisme-fouesnant.fr/en/discover/the-destination/the-three-points/mousterlin

We decided to head to our next campsite, Les Sables Blanc in Concarneau and have a quiet afternoon. We had a lovely corner pitch under the trees with nobody around us. We sat for a while before deciding to head into town.

https://www.brittanytourism.com/destinations/the-10-destinations/quimper-cornouaille/concarneau

We walked through a wooded area and then onto another pathway which could have been a disused railway – it just had that feel. Anyway it did the job as it popped us out by the busy port and round the corner from the town centre. So we had a stroll through town, a few shops still open at 6:30, before dropping down onto the sea front and walking back towards our campsite. It was still quite warm with clear blue skies – you couldn’t get better weather. A few people were in the sea, having a late evening swim. We found a little restaurant at the bottom of the road – we sat outside and ordered beers and a seafood platter which was huge and delicious. Just what we wanted. We sauntered back up to the campsite and the Van just as it got dark.

We have been noticing on French roads that instead of embarking on multi million pound widening schemes for cycle paths, the French just get a pot of paint out, paint lines down either side of the road and designate it cycle/pedestrian. In some places, cars are reduced to one lane, but they can enter the cycle lane to let oncoming cars past. It is so simple, but the French (and other countries) give priority to cyclists and pedestrians – we’ve seen a lot more people just cycling around, getting shopping or whatever rather than our lycra clad club cyclists – it helps that their roads are not so congested than ours and the different attitudes to other road users.

On our little tour of the town, we discovered that there’s a market on tomorrow. So an early start, grab a parking space in town and see what the market has to offer!

We awoke at our usual time, discovering that our dog had managed to completely hog all the duvet and we were uncovered and cold. Oh the joys of being a dog owner……

The day broke with blue sky and a heavy hint of autumn, but it was beautiful. We decided to carry on with our travels, so duly packed up and hit the road. Hubby likes Chatgpt and has been interrogating it on the best routes and what to see. It’s done a pretty good job so far and it also should stop the satnav taking us on back street tours – we’re breaking up the journey into little stops too, to also thwart the satnav.

Our first stop of the day was just down the road to a little village called La Feuillee which had the most splendid church in the middle. Very ornate, it had a tall bell tower with the bells and the mechanism all open to the elements – being a bell ringer myself, it was lovely to see such a beautiful tower and I admired it for many minutes.

We left La Feuille and returned to the main road gradually climbing before we popped out of the trees and found ourselves on open moorland with fantastic expansive views, as far as the eye could see. It was a bit unexpected to be honest and reminded us of the Derbyshire Peaks. On top of one of the moorland hills stood a church, which we could see in the distance, so we took a detour to have a look and was so pleased that we did. We parked in a little car park and followed a curving path for a few minutes, up to the summit. Montagne St Michel was a tiny little church, perched on its own on a hill with 360 degree views. It was beautiful. It was built in 1672 and dominated the local area, though who came to any services was a bit of mystery as there wasn’t any houses or dwellings for miles (though today, it was accessible by car, but what about the last 300 years? Maybe any previous cottages were lost over the centuries). It was very windy up there as there wasn’t basically anything to stop it. It was obviously maintained by some group or authority as some really lovely touches had been added – embossed iron plates with quotes had been laid into the stony ground, along with four large squares denoting the compass points. Built on a plinth of stone, was a beautiful sculpture showing the local topography around the church. It was stunning and amazing to find on this lofty outpost. I had a quick peek inside – it obviously didn’t have any services there any more as the pews were missing (unless they stood). But it was a simple building with a stunning wooden ceiling. We were so pleased that we had stopped.

We walked back down the little sloping path back to the van and carried on, stopping at Pleyben with its wide main street and dominating church – another beautiful piece of architecture. We parked in the square and walked over to a boulangerie/patisserie with mouth watering goodies – we bought a couple of sandwiches, two cakes and a loaf of bread and headed back to the Van to eat the sarnies (we had skipped breakfast, so was a touch hungry). Licking our lips, we headed off again through the fabulous countryside, the trees just turning, an autumnal hue in their leaves.

We pulled into another town, Chateaulin, a pretty town split in two by the Canal de Nantes a Brest – it looked lovely, but it was busy and parking was tight. We discovered though, it had a Bricomarche store (equivalent to the UK’s B&Q outlets) as over the last two weeks, we had been making a steady and increasingly long list of things that the new Van lacked (more likely, things we hadn’t considered bringing on this extended trip). We had been meaning to visit one of these stores for a few days, so we took the bull by the horns and found it just outside the town centre. We managed to find most of the things on our list through the help of a very helpful assistant and Google Translate (though he did speak broken English). We did a double whammy as there was an Intermarché supermarket right next door and I bobbed in to pick up a few groceries. Looking like a distressed meerkat in these places, I was unexpectedly approached by an old man who spoke to me in French – I instigated my emergency protocol of “I’m English, I don’t understand” but he continued engaging me. Hubby joined me and the chap turned his attention to him. We kindly excused ourselves and spent the rest of the shopping trip trying to avoid him, peering down aisles before we entered them. The chap clearly was either very lonely or had other issues as we spotted him accosting other shoppers.

We carried on south towards Quimper or Kemper if you’re Breton. We didn’t want to go into the centre of the city itself, so we circumvented it, coming across a Total Energies petrol station and took advantage of its 2.25 euros price. We had seen a campsite this morning, outside of the little community of Gouesnach, but was due to close today for the winter. We hoped that this would be its last night, but on arrival, it was firmly closed. We quickly found another one, about 15 minutes away and headed there. We found Camping de Keromen in the village of Saint Evarzec quite easily and drove in – the reception was closed for the afternoon, but a quick phone call later found us cruising the campsite for a nice pitch and to return to reception at 5:30 with the pitch number and of course, pay.

We set up home, but the clouds got darker and it rained on and off. The pitch was littered with oversized acorns that you easily slithered on or they dug into the soles of your bare feet under the mat. A few of the roads today, had patches of conker shells laying in the road directly under the moulting tree – you had no option but to drive over them. Occasionally a conker would fall just we were passing, bouncing with a heavy thud off the Van’s roof, startling you!

We made something to eat and washed up as darkness fell at 8:30. We called a close aunt to bring her up to speed with our adventures and headed to bed to read. Acorns occasionally pinged off the roof and we think a branch was brushing against the van in the gentle breeze of the night, making some spooky noises. Tomorrow was Benodet and possible beach for Pup!

An owl was hooting last night as we went to bed – he was very close so we hoped he was in one of the nearby trees and not perched on our roof! We saw more flashes of lightning in the distance as we nodded off too, but that was the last of it.

We left this little campsite and headed off. We haven’t really been “heading south” these last few days, more like “heading west”, but now we were veering away from the northern coast and heading deep into Brittany. The countryside was rolling and very rural, interspersed with pretty little villages. We were liking this area.

We stopped at one of these villages, Jugon Les Lacs after finding an aire hidden behind the church. It was a warm day and we decided to have a look at the nearby lake, just outside the village square. We had a wander for about 20 minutes – the Pup’s ears were up as she spotted ducks – before we went for a coffee. We found a busy tabac bar on the sunny side of the square and ordered coffees, hearing a few English voices, as we sat down. Three ladies were having coffee too and chatting away in our native tongue. They all headed off, except one who came over and had a chat – she had lived in the region for about 10 years and worked as an estate agent. She had a fascinating backstory and told us that quite a few English people lived around the village. The Pup made friends with a large, but handsome dog and I fell in conversation with his German owners, so missed half of what the English lady was saying. But it was lovely that we were all having a chat with each other in the middle of a French village.

https://www.capderquy-valandre.com/en/jugon-les-lacs

We headed back to the Van and made ourselves a quick cheese and pickle sandwich before carrying on with our journey. It was lovely countryside with far reaching panoramic views, wooded valleys and wonderful little villages and hamlets. We ended up on a few narrow country lanes and met a few oncoming cars and large lorries who didn’t seem to slow down or know what the brake pedal was for – they seemed to come perilously close to us and we half expected to hear metal scraping metal.. Luckily these guys knew their width!

We ended up on the N164, a broad dual carriageway carving its way through Brittany with hardly any traffic upon it. At one point there was no vehicles on the other side, in front or at the back of us and we wondered if some apocalyptic event had occurred without us knowing and we were the only humans left. It was really weird, this huge road with nothing on it – in the UK, it would be chocker block with cars, vans and lorries – but it was rather nice to have a road to ourselves instead of someone’s grille in your rear view mirror. We enjoyed the experience until a speeding Renault overtook us and we breathed a sigh of relief.

The countryside was changing – there were a lot more hills and valleys now with deep woods. We pulled into a couple of small towns to have a wander, but the streets were empty of people and the shops seemingly shut. We wondered if everyone was on their lunch breaks and had closed for a couple of hours – but it didn’t really incentivise you to stop and have a stroll. All it needed was some tumbleweed………

We started to notice that the road signs were dual language like in Wales, Scotland and Ireland. We wondered if Breton was spoken here as well as French, so we googled it and discovered that indeed Breton was the language in this part of Brittany, just like our home countries. A lot of the villages names began with “Ker” too. It had a bit of a Cornish feel about it too.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breton_language

We were back on the little A roads and finally dropped down into Huelgoat, our stop for the night. We checked into the little campsite, surrounded by woodland and after a cuppa and a bit of a breather, we waddled into the centre for something to eat, just as it started to gently rain. The village sits on the banks of another large lake and is quite pretty with the woodland backdrop. We came across a restaurant offering pizzas and salads and went in to ask if we could bring the Pup in – it was nearly 7pm. The proprietor asked us if we had a reservation, which we hadn’t and then asked for our name which she wrote in a book. “Five minutes, you wait” she informed us which we were happy to do, but then almost immediately, she was offering us a table at the back of the restaurant. All a bit of a strange rigmarole, but we ordered pizzas which were delicious and large, all washed down with a beer. Afterwards, as the light was fading, we wandered around the town and into its sweet little square and back down to the lake, where we discovered the Moulins du Chaos, huge granite boulders wedged in the river. It was all very pretty.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huelgoat

We sauntered back to the campsite as the last of the light disappeared and sat under our awning as the evening was quite warm. It tried to rain again, splattering gently on the awning, but it was very half hearted. We lose all sense of time on this holiday and before we knew it, it was time for bed. We wrestled our fair share of the duvet from the Pup and fell easily to sleep.

We actually woke up early – around 7am and was a bit alarmed that it was still quite dark. The rain was still splattering on the roof of the Van so we dozed until it got slightly lighter at 8am. What a miserable day.

We packed up, did a couple of Van ablutions and headed west. The tide was in – the first time we had seen the water cover the lovely sandy beaches and followed the directions to the Pont Levre running across the River Rance. There was a long queue of vehicles across the bridge and on the far side, the blue flashing lights of an emergency vehicle – oh no, there hadn’t been an accident? So we all came to a halt on the bank of the Rance and watched a whirlpool of turbulent water rushing past as if it had been dammed and wondered why. Suddenly, the blue flashing light disappeared and the traffic began to move and we were off. We were intrigued by this bridge as it appeared, with the gushing water, something to do with hydro power, yet it needed to be raised to let boats through – it was still quite wide here. A cluster of concrete buildings stamped with the letters EDF, the French power company, confirmed our suspicions and a quick Google clarified it! It was a tidal hydro power station!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rance_Tidal_Power_Station

The rain had stopped and the cloud was breaking up, allowing little spots of blue to seep through. We headed to the town of St Briac sur Mer and to a particular little bakery which has been recommended by a local resident we know. The area we drove through was very pretty and quaint – we found a parking space that the Van sort of fitted into and wandered back down to the square where La Briacine patisserie was to be found. We took turns to dribble over the confectionery and ate our breakfast outside under the awning. A perfect spot. Afterwards, we went back in and spent many Euros buying lunch, a couple of baguettes and a big jar of icecream (and hoped it would fit in the Van’s freezer together with all the other food stuffed in there already).

https://www.labriacine.fr/?srsltid=AU7gw4VMfPYBhdHmy8kvXtVQeQ8gghn_ZP4G_y3prxg92IyHsdH0SZ5F

What a lovely start to the day with this little gem – we jumped into the Van and tried to get back onto the main road, except the Satnav decided that we needed a quick tour of all the narrow back streets nearby. Just a tad tense. Just one downfall with Satnavs – they can’t differentiate if you’re in a little Mini or a huge 6m campervan, so if it saves a minute or half a metre, you’re going down there. Somehow, we popped out onto the main street unscathed (the little streets were very pretty, by the way) and we carried on along the Emeraude Coast as this coastline is called. It is quite stunning.

Late last week, we had heard “reports” that France was running out of diesel which wasn’t good news for us, but it was soon reported that the TotalEnergie petrol stations were selling diesel at 2.25 euros, a lot cheaper than their rivals. (The price of fuel was jumping up almost daily). So everyone was heading to their fuel stations and filling up, taking advantage of the good prices, causing queues to spill out onto main roads. Over the weekend, we noticed that these places were now closed, having run out of diesel because of the demand. So it was a bit of a storm in a teacup, but just shows how we all panic so easily.

We were now looking for a place to park – overlooking a beach preferably and to have a spot of relaxation. We headed to St Jacut de la Mer, at the end of a long headland jutting out to sea. It was quite a big town, full of big detached houses overlooking each other. We spotted an Aire, but decided to go further to the tip of the headland as it promised a beach. When we got there, the two car parks had height restriction barriers which was disappointing so we turned around (like two other campervans doing the same as us) and went looking for the Aire. We couldn’t find it, so retraced our steps until we realised that we hadn’t gone down the road far enough! Doh. It looked like we were casing the joint, cruising up and down. The Aire also had a barrier and didn’t have a view, but we downloaded the QR app for future reference and headed off to Saint Cast le Guildo, another headland of the Emeraude coastline.

We found the perfect spot at Plage de Pen Guen – a car park with several campers in, overlooking a beautiful sandy bay. At the entrance was half a height barrier on one side which was odd, but didn’t think much of it. We parked and headed to the beach with the Pup – the signs informed us that dogs were allowed on the beach, but on a lead. How can you take your hound on a beach and keep it on a lead? Could understand if it was heaving with people, but this was practically deserted and the couple of dogs already there, were charging around off lead anyway. So we had a lovely walk with our Pup, burning off some excessive energy, along the gorgeous sand and the waves crashing in the surf. We returned to the Van to make a brew and eat our salad bowls from St Briac, when a French guy in a little white van pulled up and spoke to Hubby in high speed French. Seeing Hubby’s bemused look, he left us to it and spoke to another couple parking their van, before disappearing. The lovely campervan lady came over and spoke in broken English, telling us that the chap had told her that campervans were not allowed in this car park, that the height barrier had “exploded” and that there was another car park nearer town. She then jumped in her van and drove off – we were in the middle of boiling water and thought about staying as there were other campers still there, but had left their vans to go for a walk. We decided to head off – not wanting to incur a big fine or being clamped – to find another place and enjoy our lunch without being hassled.

We soon found ourselves on the seafront in the centre of town, after passing the other Van car park (a horrible dusty patch of ground down a side road). The satnav took us down yet another brief but exciting detour of back roads. We were hoping to get to the marina, but now we were dealing with width restrictions so we abandoned that idea and squeezed onto a small car park – not sure we were allowed, but there were no signs saying “don’t”. We re-boiled our water and ate our salad bowls looking out to sea and the marina, before I nipped into town for some milk, cheese and other bits. The town centre was deserted, the shops firmly shut except the odd restaurant – obviously the town took Sunday and Monday off as the weekend. With the mission completed we headed off to find our campsite, though somehow we went wrong twice and did our own little tour around the town and surrounding area without the satnavs help! Finally, we found it and checked in – our pitch was perched high on the edge of the headland with a great view of the Pointe de la Corbiere, a castle built on the edge of the bay. Perfect. We were also on the GR34 long distance coastal walk, which I was totally ignorant about – oh the shame.

https://www.brittanytourism.com/matching-what-i-want/hikes-in-brittany/gr-34-the-customs-officers-path

I went for a shower. I just couldn’t bear the thought of showering at the Alet site for several reasons – for some peculiar reason, whole block was sunk below ground level so you looked down on it. It was very dated and antiquated and I never got hot water when I went to wash the dishes and pots – a slight hint of warmth was probably the best description I could muster, so I wasn’t holding out for a steamy hot shower. The shower block here was much nicer – big wide cubicles and hot water, but only two hooks and no little ledge to put glasses and other bits on – yes, I know, I’m so fussy, but yet to find the perfect combo.

After chilling for a while and feeding the Pup, we decided to go for a walk along the headland, so we walked down to the beach and found the dusty path to the right. It was a lovely walk, high above the craggy inlets and rocky coves, right on the edge of the cliff. Soon the path curved round and we came up to a road above the marina. We followed the road past the heavily fortified Le Semophore station and annoyingly, a campervan car park with fantastic views across the town and beyond!!!

Another 20 minutes and we were back at base where we cracked open a bottle of wine and nibbled cheese and French bread. Then we made a call back home as the night drew in. Afterwards Hubby decided to go and wash the dishes at the ablutions block but came galloping back as there was lightning flashing in the distance! So we sat in the dark watching lightning for a little while, but couldn’t hear any thunder. So we turned the lights back on. The storm must of petered out. So we got ready for bed, spotting a lighthouse light up the night sky on a distant headland.

Tomorrow we’re heading to them thar mountains just north of Quimper.