Quimper, Brest, Roscoff. Following the wind to the English Channel.

Where were we? Quimper. Another one of those amazing French cities where we get to be the only American tourists. As far as we can tell, anyway. One of the best things about visiting non A list sights is how friendly and nice and patient the locals are with tourists. A nice city for a rest day after a cranky ride from our last stop. You never know when the moodiness will hit. Sometimes it’s obvious, long ride in the rain or wind, sometimes it’s just bad luck of the day. Quimper was definitely an antidote to travel moodiness.

Le Steir, a canal off the Odet River in Quimper. That turret is part of the old wall of the city.
So many half timbered buildings in Quimper.
Beautiful old wooden carved figures still adorn some of the buildings.
Nice pantaloons!
Examples of different Breton regional wear in the Breton County Museum .
We saw depictions of this ceremonial hat in carvings, paintings, and even stone as we rode the countryside of Finistère. Apparently it is a fairly recent adaptation from the early 1900s.

It’s easy as a tourist to focus only on the quaint history of a place and forget to look at the modern life. Yes, this is our fun vacation, but people live their modern complicated lives here as everywhere.

Street art in Quimper. I love this one.
Smurf beating up Mickey while Mario … watches? Tries to stop them?
Cubist cool French woman with ubiquitous vape?
Selfie rat!

As usual a rest day involves taking care of business. This stop in Quimper allowed us to have our front hydraulic brakes looked after. The kind man in this shop installed new pads and rotors on both of our front wheels. Good timing as Rich’s really needed replacing. A big Rich plus a loaded bike means serious wear and tear on the brakes.

We rode the bikes over in the morning and got them back that evening. Phew!
Rich searched on line and picked a shop fairly close to our hotel that specialized in pretty high end mountain and gravel bikes. And of course e-bikes.
And I did some laundry! Fun fact, both laundromats I’ve been to include the laundry detergent. Lessive Incluse. I was worried it might be scented but didn’t notice any strong smell so all was good.

It was a bit rainy/misty/mizzly during our time in Quimper, which was fine since I’d rather walk around and have a rest day in the rain than ride in it.

Tucked up in a cozy crêperie drinking
La bolée de cidre.
Still catching the spring blooms in parks.

Then where did we go? We headed out to Brest after two nights in Quimper. It was still raining lightly but since the route from Quimper to Brest isn’t completely bike friendly, as we were warned by on line resources and a fellow cyclist we met waiting for the train, we rode a fairly short ride to Châteaulin, 26k/16 miles but with 480m/1600ft of climbing. There we would catch a quick train to Brest, as the V45 route that traverses most of the Finistère coast had a gap here. It’s one of the few places we’ve encountered in France that has no bike routes marked and online forums confirmed parts of the route were on steep and often busy roads. No thanks.

Quéménéven chapel. The color of the granite stones continues to fascinate me. Worn from sea wind and rain, speckled with lichen and moss, but not blackened by city pollution, they have a unique look.
Climbing the final ridge to Châteaulin. Two things cheer me up on this damp climb: 1) I know wind turbines are always at the crest of a mountain or hill, and 2) The way the turbines are facing means we have a tailwind.
Some curious horses and the storm being pushed our way by that lovely tailwind.
Top of the climb! And still a tailwind. The rain is chasing us.
Châteaulin. L’ Aulne River and some more pretty flowers. Yes! We’re getting on a train now! Not so fast, says Rich, the train station is up a decent sized climb above the river.
Now we’re at the train station.
And relaxing on our well timed train ride as the storm caught us and started pouring down rain.

By the time we got to Brest, about an hour and a half later, the sun was out and who cares about the wind when your hotel is only about 500 meters from the train station? Brest has been a ship building and important military port and harbor since the 1600s. It served as a crucial embarkation point in WW1. Thousands of US troops came through Brest heading to the front lines. And WW2 saw Germans use it for submarine and ship docking and repair. Which made it an important target for Allied forces to destroy. Only a tiny number of buildings were left standing after 1944’s Battle for Brest.

On arrival we pedal out of the Brest train station on a lovely bike lane. Look at that beautiful tram.
I lobbied for a rest day in Brest to visit the Musée National de la Marine. 400 years of navel history in a castle! It was supposed to be open the Thursday we were there. It was not. Extraordinary closure. That face says, I plan and I plan, and still.
Denied the Military Museum we had to take a deeper dive into Brest attractions.
Off we went to Tour Tanguy museum. Which turned out to be a charming museum.
It’s full of dioramas of old Brest, pre 1939. all created by a local artist
Jim-E. Sévellec.
(1897 – 1971)
Each has detailed information on what you are seeing, in French and English.
Such detail. Humor and nostalgia.
The dioramas show and tell the story of Brest and helps you realize what got destroyed .
But as we explore the city more, we are reminded what hardy and innovative people the Bretons are. Here is the Téléphérique De Brest, which crosses the Penfeld River harbor area.
Huge dry docks.
Riding the Téléphérique back across the harbor.
This mural does not lie about the blue water and white sands of Finistère. And yes, there have been cats too!
What a great storefront celebrating the sights of Brest.

Even though the Maritime Museum was closed, we still had a good rest day in Brest. The city is different than the rest of Finistère. Wider streets and more car traffic due to post war rebuilding. No half timbered buildings as we’ve admired in other Breton Cities. But nice tram lines and good bikeways, as we’ve come to expect from French cities. In fact, our ride out of Brest was one of the more pleasant rides leaving a city.

First an avenue of trees.
Bike path, tram tracks, sidewalks. I think there is a car lane far left.
Now that’s a protected bike lane. The bikes get to do what cars do, cross a valley on a road. When I see something like this I say with envy “Oh France.”
And another bike ped bridge saving us from a down and up.
Reading some WW2 history and the resistance in Gouesnou, not far out of Brest.

Well designed and comfortable bike paths are very welcome on this day since we have 85k to ride to Roscoff, and the English Channel to greet. We’ll finally be leaving the Bay of Biscay.

So far so good.
You got this, says the glamour pony.
On days of long rides it’s best to eat early and often. Our favorite Gazpacho flavor, cucumber and mint.
Champagne gravel. Such a pretty path. Such blue skies.
Fields of shallots. It took us a minute to remember what they are called so from now on we will call them scallywags.
The style of chapels and steeples in this region is called Pont-Croix school style. Nothing exists to document if this style was the work of one architect or a guild of workers versed in specific techniques. The steeples look noticeably airy and with distinct buttresses.
The English Channel! I texted this photo to a friend in Wales “We’re waving to you!”
Made it to the Channel. Plouescat and the dramatic rocks of a low tide.
Now get back on that bike and keep pedaling.
Fields of artichokes.
Another stop for food. I think this is our third lunch.
And we made it to Roscoff. 85k later.
The fearless tour leader. Successfully getting his one client (me) through a long day.
The port of Roscoff was more charming than we anticipated. The big ferries from Ireland and England stop a bit further north, saving the historic harbor from the deluge of cars and trucks.
A peaceful evening stroll after dinner.
Some of my favorite things: pretty gate, blue shutters, and a well behaved gull being picturesque.
It can be difficult to tell if buildings are inhabited. Shutters in disrepair, but curtains in the lower window.
Rolling out of Roscoff the next day. Église Notre-Dame de Croaz-Batz behind me. Headed to Morlaix.
Église Notre-Dame de Croaz-Batz has a very unusual and distinctive steeple.
We had been joking about not seeing high tides as we always seemed to leave harbor towns at low tide. Finally – a high tide!
Sweet chapel on a hill outside Roscoff.
We’ve ridden a lot of places. I can be forgiven for sometimes forgetting for a moment where we are. In this lane I looked up at Rich and thought- Wait, are we in Wales? The narrow lane up a hill brought back strong memories of Pembrokeshire.
But this allée of trees says France to me.
And I will definitely remember the coast of Finistère.
The marked cycle route took us down along a boat ramp which made for a perfect break spot.
Our much loved and well ridden Koga World Traveler S bikes. Taking yet another break in Penzé.
A picnic table! Perfectly timed for lunch.

Next post will continue the ride to Morlaix and on.

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cbink

After decades of living and working in wonderful San Francisco we gave it all up to travel the world. Not owning a car allowed us to save money and live hyper-locally. Now we’re living around the globe. Follow along to see where we are and what cats I manage to pet.

One thought on “Quimper, Brest, Roscoff. Following the wind to the English Channel.”

  1. All looks lovely, hope you’re done with rain for a while now😊

    That protected bike lane is about twice the width of the one on 125th, as it should be!

    Enjoy the rest of your journey, with well functioning brakes👍

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