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.
