Mood Swings in Finistère

Getting sick while traveling. It’s inevitable, especially when eating and staying in so many different places. And when you are sick bike touring, it can feel particularly dark.

You generally don’t know where you caught a specific ick, but this time we definitely have our suspicions. The lovely Chambre D’hôte we stayed at in Josselin had two visiting grandchildren, both of whom served us multiple courses by hand at breakfast. It was very cute, (and I guess France has more lax labor laws allowing 3 and 5 years olds to work!) but as we left, we were told the younger one had a stomach bug so was staying home from school…oh? It will be fine, since we’re tough.

Well, luckily it’s 36 hour incubation period got me perfectly through our final two pleasant days of cycling as we headed to the coast. But then I got hit hard by a stomach flu type illness and I missed 4 meals, with a day of rest, saltines, hydration tablets and watered down apple juice. It always amazes me how strong our bodies are, until they aren’t.

But luckily the worst resolved fast and we were able to enjoy a lot more of our second day in Concarneau. But it would linger in my system for a few days more, making everything a bit tougher. And I suspect Cheryl also had a milder case, but she will never admit it. But ha, as we’ve been travelling together for almost 5 years straight, I know -;) She was slower too for a number of days. I know.

So one expat somewhere recently commented to me about Concarneau with “Well, the French seem to like it”. Now I kind of get it. It’s pretty from above and famous in France, but super touristy and honestly, a little Disneyland like with a crammed single street of tourist shops inside the walled city. And the adjacent town itself is also fairly plain and lacking in character, with a frustrating layout of unimproved streets with narrow sidewalks. Not really much charm, but the coast and area surrounding Concarneau are beautiful. If you travel about Brittany, you will experience 100 more scenic and authentic places, maybe in a single day.

So to facilitate another rest day and allow us to explore the walled city, we moved just 800m down the road, as unfortunately our lovely sea view room hotel at Les Sables Blanches was booked up for Friday night. But the other hotel was just fine and actually had a decent view, kind staff, and nice covered pool that had just opened for the season (most are covered here as it’s never that warm!). So we walked quite a bit, took a refreshing swim, and I even managed two meals successfully. So I was really looking forward to getting back on the bikes.

But despite being only a mere 35k from Concarneau to Benodet, and starting out feeling pretty good, my body started to revolt at about km20, as I realized that I still wasn’t really recovered and my body was not producing normal energy. I could eat, but it would take a few more days to get back fully to normal.

Benodet was a fancy coastal town that didn’t really grab us, and we had to force two pizzas down quickly as the one Italian restaurant was booked (my fragile stomach really wanted pasta) but we agreed to take an early table, only order pizza and finish fast. You have to eat, but sometimes it’s tough in France given the rigid schedule and reservation culture. We often do make reservations, but the town didn’t feel busy on this slow Saturday night.

The next day to Audierne promised some winds and a surprisingly varied route. It proved to be challenging but very rewarding with historic sights and an overload of scenery.

The next day was a hilly 55k from Benodet to Audierne. It was absolutely brilliant as I was filled with that post sickness euphoria that heightens the senses and makes you appreciate every mile, or kilometer. The weather also cooperated to keep the rain at bay and the strong winds only from the side.

We arrived to the city of Audierne, which feels like an outpost near the ends of the continent, because it is. No one passes through here on a whim, and the people seemed extra hearty, even for the Bretons. We loved our small modest coastal hotel, and another night of ocean waves breaking to lull us through a solid night of bike touring sleep. We headed out the next day on an route that arced to the northeast and then back into Quimper, the cultural heart of Finistère.

This day of riding summed up bike touring perfectly as we started out blissfully into the morning sunshine and a beautiful interior trail along the Goyen River. We then explored empty chapels and Neolithic sites as we crested the hills toward Douarnenez. But the afternoon was a drag a Cheryl had a somewhat unexpected hangry meltdown after we bought groceries at a crowded supermarket, and then couldn’t find a place to eat for miles…it still stuns us how moody bike touring can be. But what always helps is a bit of patience and understanding as we’ve all been there and we have to remind each other, it will all get better. And it’s all worth it.