As we ride into Morlaix we are on day 21 of our cycling trip and I have one of those “where are we now?” moments. We’ve had some rest days when we weren’t cycling but at this point I do forgive myself for losing track of where we are and how many days in. Although every day brings new sights and ideas to ponder, the mechanics become routine. The unpacking and packing, the visits to grocery stores to get lunch food. Washing out the days’ cycling gear and hoping it will dry by morning. We each have two pairs of bike shorts and two jerseys but it’s nice not to have pack damp shorts and try to remember to dry them during lunch breaks.
Morlaix is a tidal river that becomes almost completely dry at low tide, but a lock keeps the marina full of water.Riding into Morlaix. The viaduct above was built in 1865 and carries trains. It was only mildly damaged in 1943 bombing and repaired.A mural of ship building diagrams.Our view back down to town from our little apartment for the night. It was in a retirement community above the downtown and was a nice opportunity to cook our own dinner.
It’s funny how we can get a quick sense of a place, either good or bad, just from the ride in in the evening. Both of us were not thrilled with the one way traffic flow and the aggressive drivers in Morlaix, and as we rode out the next morning we both said “Buh bye!”. It hadn’t felt very friendly. But then, as we were about to follow the Koomot route out of town up a hill off the flat river route, a roadie cyclist called out to us and circled back to explain that we should stay on the flat route since it was Sunday and so there was not much car traffic. Oh, and it was prettier too. That one interaction made us both feel better about the town. Yay nice cyclists.
The flat route out the River Morlaix.A very calm and still morning. The wind is waiting around the corner at the coast.
In our travel relationship Rich is the planner. We hear from other travel couples that having one planner and one not planner, one follower, or, as we recently heard it described, one passenger princess, works out well for most couples. Passenger princess. I guess that’s me. I’m not a princess type, more a low maintenance sensible shoes kinda gal, but I do get some pretty good travel treatment from Rich. Which I acknowledge and appreciate.
First coffee break at the mouth of the river.Too early for oysters? Yes.We’re sharing a route with GR34, a long distance hiking route.And with lots of sheep. Lambing season means lots of vocalizing between moms and lambs.A pause near Plougasnou to enjoy the view.Remind all of our Yankee friends of New England?Who’s still in love with the stone buildings? Me.What do you do with an old boat? Beach it near town and let it become picturesque.A new favorite yogurt flavor contender. Mandarin lime. Yum. This is why it can take us so long to get anywhere- stopping to take pictures of a sweet gate.I call this pose: ¿Quién es más macho? Me, who rode up this steep hill under my own power loaded with bags, or the folks who drove up? Me! The answer is me! Ha! Could a princess do this?Amused and tolerant husband. Whatever gets her through the day, right? Shall we try the newly updated route that takes us up a dead end road? Yes!Nice! Orchis mascula, the early-purple orchid.Primroses. Loads of them blooming all over the place.Bluebells. Yes, Rich is waiting for me up ahead somewhere. Total princess behavior to keep him waiting.Churches are always a good bet for a shady stop. Almost to Locquirec. It’s sunny but a good wind blowing. Headwind. Our lovely room with a view of the low tide and so water free harbor. We’re excited to get to watch the tide come in.It was a sunny Sunday so folks were out on the beach. Waiting for the tide to bring the sea closer to them.The tide moves in so quickly! We forgot to check while we unpacked, showered, washed cycling gear, and when we turned back not long after this photo the water was all the way in!Dinner at our Hôtel restaurant du port locquirec. I’m always happy to have a little pichet of white wine. Definitely a princess demand.After dinner walk and a high tide harbor.Fishing off the pier now that there’s water out there.View back along the pier to the port.The hotel we didn’t stay at. Cute but overpriced. Lace-cap hydrangeas in front of the church.Sunrise. We got up to open the window at about midnight and were so pleased to see that the town takes the dark skies initiative very seriously. Those few red lights you can see were literally the only lights on overnight.White sand and blue water. And headwind.Riding a short stretch of rail trail that helpfully keeps you off a hill. My view when it’s windy. Rich slows down a bit and I tuck in behind. Only the best drafting for the PP (passenger princess).
I always feel sorry for cyclists who haven’t gotten to ride behind The Wall of Rich into a headwind. Between his tall body and big bike frame and four wind blocking panniers it’s a pretty darn sweet slipstream. It’s not easy being the one pulling up front.
The Wall from the front. Église Saint-Théodore in Tréduder. I had to change my helmet cover due to the wind.In someone’s garden in Lanvellec. Cute cute cute.More cuteness. Another church, in Lenvellec still. We’re actually headed to a train to hop into Rennes. I wasn’t up for two days of riding into the strong headwind.Arrived in Plouaret where we will catch a train. Another cycle touring special lunch: chicken slice, laughing cow cheese, and Breton butter chips. Roll it up. Cycle touring burrito.It can be a bit stressful trying to make it to a specific train mid day, but we arrived with plenty of time. Our Ter, or local train. Usually two bike cars per train are helpfully marked. We both absolutely loved the train station in Rennes. The station was redesigned in 2019 with the new cloud like structure. Our stays across Britanny. The upper right heart is Rennes.
Rich will pick up the next post with our rest day in Rennes and on to Caen. Happy pedaling!
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.
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.
Just one of the risks of bike touring. Big wind, tides, and storms are part of life in Finistère, the westernmost department in France.Taking a walk along the bluff south of the hotel. Feeling a bit better after 24 hours…Leaving the lovely Les Sables Blanches Hotel where I spent the better part of 36 hours in bed with a lovely ocean view as my body recovered from a stomach bug. It could have been worse-:) The coast around Concarneau is part of the famous GR34 long distance walking route, which covers an incredible 2000km along the coast of Brittany. Much of our coastal bike route ( V45) covers the same zones, but not always as close to the sea.
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.
First meal after a stomach ick is always the exciting and a bit daunting.
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.
Cheryl loving the unique designs of every cidre “coupée” in Brittany, and the fact we were eating together again. Cheryl’s pick with spring white asparagus and even some greens!My choice of classic emmental, egg, and a touch of andouille sausage went down ok (and stayed down, yea!).
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.
Cheryl ready to explore the walled city of Concarneau
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.
I’m ready to walk after a day in bed, and the lunchtime crowds are thin.You can walk the ramparts for free now as there used to be a fee, but I suspect too many people complained, as it’s a bit overrated, even when you explore at peak French lunchtime (12:30-1:30), a great travel hack anywhere in France.The ramparts take you behind the Main Street and restaurants, complete with Medieval plastic skylights and vents and exhausting fried food smell….Ok, I’m a bit crazy as my second meal recovering was a fairly spicy Thai curry. But it tasted so good. That look from Cheryl is “Are you sure about this?”Meeting this friendly cycle tourist Lukas leaving our second hotel in Concarneau cheered me up. He is Czech but lives in Italy and is currently circumnavigating the European Coasts to raise awareness for organ donorship. @ Wild.lukaas . The owner of our hotel had comped him a room and we gave him a little dinner money too -:)
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.
Swerving a bit to get up a 15-20% slope. I would pay for this early effort.Cheryl more sensibly hiking her bike up the same long grade out of Concarneau.
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.
I was still on the mend, but the Boulangerie stop is still essential.The route swerved and weaved from dirt to pavement through a beautiful stretch of the Finistère coast.Every turn was a new view and perspective on this jagged coast.A lovely stretch of coast near Near Cap Coz. Here they did exactly the street treatment that Concarneau needed. Turn the two lane road road one way, and make a wide bike and walking space.Then through marshy backwaters with a ton of birdlife. (Cheryl’s intense look BTW)My intense look as the face actually matches how I felt… crampy and weak…but it was beautiful.Happy pastry break with a view.Smiling through adversity (really?!)It went from sun to wind to rain to all at once every 10 minutes or so. The weather can be crazy here at the ends of the continent.So as we approached Benodet, we decided it was now or never for lunch at 2:30p, so of course it was crepes, as they are everywhere here and a staple. Also, it’s pretty hard to get a bad crepe in Brittany, sort of like pizza in Naples.The lighthouse at Benodet. A very tidy town with lots of nice vacation homes and beautiful coastline.
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.
Lots of warnings and rules in Benodet.
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 smiles were authentic the next day as I paced myself better and felt stronger.The somewhat forgotten Pont L’Abbé, a once strategic control point for commerce and defense, including a stone bridge first built by a monk in the 14th century, complete with buildings atop.Chapel at Pont-l’Abbė.Our route included a gravel section on the old “Carrot Train” route, a small railway that brought goods to sale to and from Pont L’Abbé but was abandoned in 1935 with the rise of truck transport.A perfect lunch spot at the Church ruins along the Route Du Vent Solaire. The “Solar Wind Route” is named after the work of Pierre Jakez Hélias, a writer born in the Pays Bigouden region, the Solar Wind Route is like the wind: it often changes direction. Lots of 15th century ruins to explore all to ourselves
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.
A few free range chickens crossing the road. We don’t know why.The ruins, sky, and sound of the crashing ocean in the distance is inspiring, and reminded us of Ireland…really not too far away and another Celtic culture.Inspired to pilgrimage Breton flags and language are ubiquitous. Many kids now attend bilingual schools in this area, keeping the language alive.Breton flag and typical ceremonial dress, which often varies even from village to village.Blue is the color of the region and buildings take a beating along the windswept coast.Spring marks the start of festival season and small local events. The Sunday Microbrasserie event was tempting as we passed within a km but a break is tough to get restarted from and my stomach probably didn’t need an afternoon beer!?The Bay’of Audierne is vast and exposed.Rows of breakers from strong west winds. We quickly realized why the more popular swimming beaches are in less exposed areas of Finistère.Neolithic sites are dotted throughout the region, including a cave indicating habitation over 400,000 years BP. Yes, you read that correctly. See the amazing Menez DréganThis dolmen is new compared to the cave site below on the coast and only dates back 2,000 to 4,500 years BP.These Neolithic burial sites still feel awe inspiring, and put today’s troubles in a bit of perspective. Time will pass and it will all be ok. Or it won’t. But time will pass.Up and down relentlessly as we approached Audierne.Destination reached! Another spectacular corner room over the beach at the friendly and nicely renovated TY YS Hotel in Audierne. Swing season is great.The light of Brittany is both soft and ephemeral.Rolling out of Audierne for the interior on another beautiful day.Audierne is built on a major inlet for protection and reminded us of Scandinavian ports such as Bergen.So psyched to be riding and digesting again!These small hearts on the road signs were unique
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.
Heading up Le Goyen from Audierne. A spectacular morning. The tidal reach up the river is extensive.Finally heading upland towards Douarnenez.The architectural church style here is the “Pont Croix” and sure enough, you can walk all the way to Santiago de Compestela from here if you have a few months and good shoes.The beautiful Chapelle Notre-Dame-de-Kérinec, literally in the middle of nowhere. Why?Water was definitely a reason for this Chapels Location. Calvary cross and outdoor pulpit. Oh, and an access point to get up there….Apparently in the 1700s, the occasional Sunday Pardons (religious festivals) required an outdoor venue as crowds gathered from the countryside.Perhaps the spring was a draw here and motivation to build a church. It may also have been the drive to override the pagan Neolithic sites of the area.Speaking of Neolithic sites….Another cozy dolmen just down the road.And onto the Menhir with my spring camouflaged panniers!This is a big one.Big sky and sea.Oops, how’d this get here?
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.
And after a brief afternoon meltdown (Cheryl’s turn) on a somewhat dull gravel rail trail, the happy bike travelers make it to charming Quimper.
Château de Josselin in the flattering sunset light.
An Irish ex-pat couple we chatted with along the canal path told us that we would love Josselin. Very very pretty town, they said. Rich does a lot of research about distances, what we can reasonably ride in a day, places to stay which are bike friendly- and that generally means an enclosed space where we can lock the bikes – and grocery stores and bakeries to fuel us up for the ride. That means he, or we (I’m not super involved in that part of planning), don’t look at a lot of online photos of the actual towns and villages. Which means we get to be surprised! And that’s often a total treat.
Our lovely room in Josselin at 14 st-michel chambre d’hôte. A super well run place.Josselin has 54 half timbered buildings. Some date back to the 1530s.How are you still standing?And the super helpful and informative history plaques add to our enjoyment.A small cafe run out of one of the historic buildings.So well maintained. And some work going on right nearby.Cat shaped bell. Doorbell or bell to call the cat home?Rolling out of Josselin. It’s a warm day and we’ll be shedding our jackets after the downhill.What a fantastic bike route. Complete with comfort stops.It’s going to be another warm day so we’re happy to refill our bottles and use a toilet (instead of a nature break.).Approaching another écluse.Warm weather and sunshine means another helmet cover comes out, the hat! Perfect for the sun phobic cyclist. We’re crossing a ride we did in Brittany in 2023, we visited L’orient and Pontivy on that ride.How many cute lock keeper houses did I photograph? A lot.Bingo. Juice with Jesus. We love the small roadside shrines to Mary and Jesus because they frequently have shade and a bench. Outskirts of Pontivy. A town we stayed in and I cannot remember. Rich remembers it.Farm fields and sunshine in Séglien.Guémené-sur-Scorff, our next stay. Aux Sabots Rouges, a hôtel and restaurant in a stunning old building.It’s now Tuesday and a lot of the restaurants in town are closed. After taking a walk around to make sure we’d get food somewhere- we sat for an aperitif while we waited for the crêpe restaurant to open. Hopefully.The town had recently lost its Petites Cités de Caractère status, which was upsetting for the owner of our BnB. It sounded as if it was an administrative lapse on the part of the mayor. We found Guémené to be loaded with character.Cider at the crêperie .Delicious goat cheese, mushroom, walnut and greens crêpe.Flower beds of character. Another stunningly old house of character.And the best addition to any town, a cat of character. Very petable. Purring like crazy.Rich named him Gravlax. After his slightly salmon tinged color. Murder mittens of character.My new favorite yogurt flavor, lime.We have a long ride ahead of us, so a grocery store stop is the first order of business. Tonight, we sleep at the coast!Back to the land of cartons of Gazpacho! Yum. Bingo. Cheese with Jesus.And making bike touring nachos. Laughing cow cheese (kind of sacrilegious in a country with so much good cheese, but it goes down easy and travels well), tortilla chips and guacamole.
Eat early and often. That’s a bike touring rule. Especially on a hot day. And a long day. We had 85 kilometers to do which is a long day this early in a bike trip and half on dirt and gravel. So, lots of snacks, electrolytes in our water bottles, and pod casts and music in our ears.
Meslan. The color of the stone houses and blue shutters. Adorable.Another food break in Le Faouët. The 16th-century timber market hall behind Rich is still used. It’s a rare surviving example of a large timber structure from that period, per Wikipedia.We left the canal and were on small roads, complete with farm vehicles.Uh oh. Rich flagged down a passing car to ask the driver if they thought we could get through. Yes. So on we went. We always say to each other “they don’t mean bikes”. Bingo.We’re on a rail trail for the last 30 kms or so. Which is nice. It’s hot and we’re getting tired.Still smiling.When it’s hot and you need energy? Ice cream bars. Magnum Mini scene of destruction. Yes, we did feel a bit ill a few miles later.I had just enough mental and physical energy to stop and snap a picture of this leopard Appaloosa horse. I had to check with my sister that it was an actual type of horse, not a genetic accident. It’s rare, she said. And beautiful.We made it to the North Atlantic Ocean. The Bay of Biscay, actually. Our nice big room for two nights at Les Sables Blancs. Big deck and nice view.Our trip so far. The far right hearts are our friends near Geneva, and Lyon. The long gap was the 6 hr train from Lyon to Angers.And a closer view from Angers to Concarneau, where we are now.Unfortunately, since this nice sunset photo on the beach was taken, Rich has been felled by a stomach bug.
There were other Bike Touring Bingo moments, the well dressed gentleman strolling the canal path while reading a book, the small river otter darting out across the path and then changing their mind when they saw us and darting back to the canal bank. A farmer in a beret leading his draft horse along the Loire River path. And this is also a form of bike touring bingo; who will get sick? This time it’s Rich. Usually he has a stomach of iron and it’s me who gets an upset digestive system. In the midst of his illness he is still travel planning, trying to figure out where we go next as this hotel is full for the Friday night.
A sunny day with a tailwind on Nantes Brest canal. One of the many écluse buildings. Lock keeper houses.
The Nantes Brest canal, conceived by Napoleon as a strategic inland connection of two important ports to avoid the British controlled ocean, is 390 kms long. That’s a good distance for a nice long game of Bike Touring Bingo.
Leaving Nantes. The canal starts a bit outside of Nantes proper, and the leaving of cities is frequently a bit of a jumble.Pastry break! At 17 kms. That’s a chocolate babka from marguerite Boulangerie du coin in Nantes.
Bike Touring Bingo is an adaptation to the office game BS Bingo, where you and your co-workers would have made up Bingo cards on the xerox machine of all your boss’s favorite and overused phrases, to be checked off during interminable conference calls.
Babka ready for its close up. Hazelnut and chocolate.
Bike touring bingo is much more free form. It’s any bike touring eventuality – such as having to open all four panniers to find the thing you’re searching for. Or getting stung by nettles. It can also be any French cliche, for example an elegant French woman bicycling by with a baguette in her basket.
Finally out into the countryside. Canal this way! Oddly named snail restaurant also this way? That sign deserves a bingo square.It’s steadily getting warmer and the day is calm but with a nice tailwind. The travel planner stops to admire a helpful map.Lunch break in Nort-sur-Erdre. We’re appreciating how well benched and picnic tabled this route is. So many benches.We’re on a Camino de Santiago trail. We chatted with one pilgrim and saw two others. They had 1,200 kilometers to walk to Santiago de Compostela, Spain. We’re headed the opposite direction from the pilgrims so merrily we roll along.Bike touring bingo square! French gentleman in striped shirt smoking a ciggy while piloting a boat. I got bonus points the next day when I saw the same guy (I think) having a wee by the side of a marina.Our first night on the canal in Blain at a lovely Chambre d’hôte, Le Nid d’Omer. We’re trying to remember to take photos of our rooms before we dump our panniers and make an ugly mess.Bingo! Well behaved chambre d’hôte cat observing breakfast.
The canal links up four rivers, so it’s fascinating to see the change from canal to river. It was quite a clever engineering feat as only 20% of the route had to be made from scratch.
Here’s a tiny Rich riding past a boat in a canal section.And here he is waiting for me to catch up in Fégréac on a section of L’Isac River. So many birds!Between those two photos was a coffee/tea/Easter chocolate break.And a lunch break. Although the path was busy this Easter Sunday, we always found places to stop and sit.The back of my bike. The front of Rich’s bike.
In our travels around the world we’ve always felt welcome as Americans, or at least not disliked. We always say people are good at distinguishing between a person and the country’s politics. But these are different times. Awful things are happening and the USA is responsible. We questioned if we wanted our American flags on our bikes at all. But we are American, we have to own it. Rich has a French flag to show our affection for France, and my No Kings flag hopefully conveys our lack of support for the current administration. We’ve had quite a few conversations so far and no French person has been anything but kind and understanding and as upset as we are about the war.
“I’m a little potato and I believe in you.” Thank you little potato at the crêpe restaurant in Redon.Crêpes and cider. The Breton stand by for dinner. Delicious. Dessert crêpe with caramel beurre salé. Salted caramel sauce. Yum.
No photo of the hotel room in Redon. It was adequate. And small. We thought Redon would be a bit of a nothing town, and quite empty on Easter Sunday evening, but it turned out to have a lot of half timbered buildings and some fascinating historical plaques to help tourists understand the history of the buildings.
Half timbered building from the 1600s, now with shops on the ground floor, as many were originally both businesses and dwellings it’s fitting.Sunset over the canal in Redon.Nettles. Rich won that bingo square with a “shortcut” suggested by Komoot. Thankfully it was a small nettling. Person traveling with a donkey? Is that on my Bingo card? It is now.I forgot his name, but he had just bought the donkey and he was headed out for a ten year ramble! With his cat too, who is wearing a GPS collar and was not happy about the crazy cat lady wanting to get her hands on him.Lunch. Smoked salmon for Rich and peanut butter and dried cranberries for me.Crossing through Malestroit. This is perhaps one of the most interesting and beautiful canals we’ve ridden.The écluse houses are adorable. The riding surface of the path is mostly really smooth fine gravel.My ongoing love affair with French bike route signage.Château de Josselin. On the Oust River. Still the residence of the 14th Duke of Rohan.
Picnic spots of the world. Relaxing along the Loire River.
We got a bit spoiled with the bike infrastructure riding out of La Boule – Escoublac, Brittany. As we continue to happily notice, France is really stepping up their bicycle and pedestrian game. It’s so nice to feel welcomed and cared for while bike touring. And it sure looks as if it’s having an impact on local trips made by bicycle in towns we went through.
The newly redone section of La Boule – Escoublac promenade. Even more bike and ped space.A new section of off street cycle path in Pornichet. Saint-Nazaire continues the bicycle love. The port in the distance.
We were headed to Saint-Nazaire to cross the bridge over the mouth of the Loire River and hang a left up the river path. We’ve ridden other sections of the Loire in years past, and had been impressed with how wild and wide sections of the river are. Our last ride on the Loire was downriver towards the Bay of Biscay and the North Atlantic Sea, but we ran out of time before we could reach the end. This time we would start at the mouth, or delta, and head up river. But first, we had to get to and cross the Pont de Saint-Nazaire. A big bridge accessible through the working port.
Into the port area, bike lanes still apparent.Oh. New signage. Watch out for workers walking.Love this.
Let’s talk about how difficult it can be to get info on cycling conditions. We’ve faced challenging bridges before, and even been shuttled over bridges. We knew this one would be tough, but Rich couldn’t find many photos or info online about the actual lanes or shoulders, other than to see it was not great, and we hadn’t seen any other bike tourists for a while so no asking for first hand experiences. As we got to the approach of the bridge there was a bus stop with information on the shuttle bus with bike trailer that ran from May through September 24, all week, and then on weekends only. It was Friday, September 29. Yup. We’d have to ride. I have no photos of our ride across the bridge. As I was concentrating on staying as far right in the 2 foot shoulder as I could, without bashing my panniers into the guardrail, I briefly considered snapping a photo but decided I would rather live. It was pretty nasty. French drivers are good, but the lane configuration was one lane in our direction, two lanes in the other, and a closed lane on the far side.
That face says “F***k. We made it.”Yikes! That was not fun.
If we had been riding the other direction we would have had an empty lane next to us, but in our direction we were next to a lane of car and truck traffic. I could see that the drivers were passing Rich as carefully as they could, and pulling into the oncoming lane when they could, but Rich, ahead of me, couldn’t see how I was getting along.
Once we got across and looked back I had two thoughts: damn, that sucked, and oh, that’s why the red stripes on the cute worker emblems on the path. It’s the paint job of the bridge.
We met two French cycle tourists heading towards the bridge later that day who said they had booked a shuttle, with a taxi company, we finally figured out. So that would be my recommendation to anyone interested in crossing the Saint-Nazaire Bridge by bike when the shuttle bus is off season, especially if is windy (which thankfully it was not on our crossing).
That bridge is on our list: Do not ride. Ah…La Loire à Vélo. Recovering with a pastry and juice break.Historic and still active fishing shacks, with crane nets, in the delta of the river. Modern port activities across the river, historic shacks on our side.
With the bridge behind us we headed up the Loire, enjoying the wide open grassy marshlands and plenty of bird life. Our destination for that night was Nantes.
Good signage. Nantes here we come.
Hunting season starts in France in September, which is when we are usually bike touring. We had seen boar hunts in the past and got out of the area as quickly as we could. This trip we saw even more hunting going on since we were right at the beginning of the season opening.
Look out for cyclists, tractors, and hunters.High visibility vest does double duty.
It was a bit nerve wracking to ride a stretch between Mt. St. Michel and St. Malo and have hunters shooting in the fields on either side of us. That’s when we got out our fluorescent accessories, which are always a good thing to have with you when cycling.
Along the Loire it was boar hunting. Complete with baying hound dogs and signs along the road.Some recent hunting tragedies mean the rules have tightened up a bit, this boar hunt looked to be very organized.Free ferry across the river at Le Pellerin to get to Nantes.Drat. Too short a ferry ride to even get my book out.Not every stretch of road is picturesque. Coming in to Nantes along the train tracks, still a nice bike lane though.
If you are ever looking for a lovely city in France that is less crowded, and a bit more off the tourist radar, we highly recommend Nantes. We spent two nights there and were very impressed with work that’s been done in the past few decades to make the city greener and give it a really pleasant ambiance. I think it’s another of those places to visit that the French are well aware of but maybe no one tells the tourists? Well, we’re telling you – it’s lovely. So many beautiful streets in the old town and lovely plazas where people gather, bike lanes, trams, and even with a World Cup Rugby match on it was super enjoyable.
One of the streets of Feydeau, previously an island in the river until the arms of the river around it were filled in between 1926 and 1946.Another street in Feydeau, looking north towards Centre-Ville.A rest day means we get to visit sights, like Les Machines de l’Île , on an actual river in the Loire. A steampunks dream. Here, a spider to give you nightmares.An old industrial site houses loads of mechanized wood and metal animals, which the workers load up with visitors and operate. Ever wanted to ride a giant ant?This heron raised up on a gantry crane and “flew” with passengers on the back and in the two baskets.Beautiful old buildings.Tree shaded plazas with streetcars.Château des ducs de Bretagne. I do love a moat.Off to the train station. We need a boost to get us back to our home base near Geneva. Enough lallygagging. Bikes loaded on the hooks (our least favorite train set up – notice how far Rich’s handlebars stick out into the aisle.).On the train and still travel planning. 90 kms later and off at Angers. Three cheers for a ramp off the platform. So much easier then elevators.The high water mark from an 1856 flood. We stopped for the water tap but I appreciate a good flood information board.“It was after the big flood of the Loire in 1150 that Henri II Plantagenêt, Count of Anjou and King of England, ordered the construction of a dyke all along the Northern part of the riverside.” Riding on the levee was fascinating.We were headed to Saumur for the night.
Once a delicate San Franciscan always a delicate San Franciscan. The weather was lovely, if a bit warm for us. 82f/26c as we rode along, and a bit hotter in the afternoon. Thankfully as we rode up river we entered the Tuffeau stone region: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuffeau_stone Where there is tuffeau there are caves created by the mining of tuffeau stones. Where there are caves there are streams of cold air coming out of the caves to cool hot cyclists.
Ahhh. Natural air conditioning. People have been living in the caves since quarrying or mining of the stone began in the 11th century.
Riding along and getting a blast of cold air, sometimes from a cave you couldn’t even see through the undergrowth, or from one set up as storage for nearby cave house dwellers, called les troglodytes, was very refreshing. We didn’t swim in the Loire, but we did stop and wade into the refreshing water and tried to convince the small fish to nibble our toes – no luck.
The school of fish were curious but cautious.It’s nice to arrive at your hotel in time to shower and relax. Rich is in the swimming pool. Château De Saumur in the background.
The lovely light color of the tuffeau stone is luminous in the evening light. After a nice galette dinner we walked up to the Château to admire the view and watch bats swirl around the walls.
Another advantage of a post dinner visit is having the Château to ourselves.Rich admiring the view of the Loiré.You’d think we’d be tired, but no, plenty of energy to take flattering evening light photos.I’m distracted by the bats.Loaded up and ready to go.
We were starting our last full day of cycle touring, from Saumur to Villandry, about 55 kms. It was going to be another pretty hot day so we wanted to get going and try to beat the afternoon heat. From Villandry it would be a short ride to Tours to catch a train to Lyon, one night in Lyon, and catch a train to Geneva.
Back to our river path.Making some good time through the shady trees.Wait! What’s this? Troglodyte Route? No way! The bike route goes into the cave. Well there goes any idea of a fast day.It was an old road for commerce winding into the mountain. Where rock had been mined people set up houses and food storage.Rich ducking under an impressive fig tree. Notice the door and house number to the right.Out to the sunshine again.The little driveways leading to cave houses are so intriguing.The cave houses stay the same temperature year round. Nice on a hot day like this one.
The former quarries or mines have been turned into houses, restaurants, wine cellars, and mushroom growing caves.
Really good info plaques. Of course I don’t speak French so I have to stop and Google translate each one. We’ve made it less than 7km so far.So unique. So shaded. So cool.A good pictorial of the history of the caves. Of course I still had to translate it. Not getting far this morning. They had little stone buildings in the vineyards connected to a shaft down which they tossed the grapes to the press. We emerged from the cave streets of Souzay and were in the vineyards. It was harvest and crush season and trucks were trundling to and fro.Grapes ready to harvest.
We both noticed that our tires were making funny noises and both thought we’d gotten flats. That slightly velcro noise a bike tire makes as it’s losing air. Worrying. But we realized that the trucks carrying grapes, and carrying stems post crush, had left a sticky residue on the streets which was now stuck to our tires making them sticky. We’ll take sticky grape juice over a flat tire any day.
Nice pavement. A bit sticky though.Stems dumped on the edge of a field. You could smell the crush everywhere. That wonderful ‘making wine’ smell.Art galleries and restaurants. All in caves. We will definitely come back to this area again. Back to the river. A shady bench to take a break. A well timed picnic table for our lunch stop. We are now riding along the sunny levee road and the temperature is climbing.The river to the left, I’m on the levee road, and the houses to the right of the levee. You ride along at the level of their upper floor windows. And sunny. Rich avoiding the pavé by riding in the narrow dirt shoulder. We know this trick from many years of watching Paris-Roubaix.Ah, a tree shaded lane to Villandry, where our hotel is …at the top of the hill! Good mood soon recovered.
The only upside to a hotel at the top of the hill is the ride back down in the morning. And the view. We headed out to catch a long local train to Lyon. Most train routing would involve a trip up to Paris and back down to Lyon by TGV, but the slower local train is worth the extra time since we wouldn’t have to change trains with our bikes. I appreciate the opportunity to read on a nice long train ride.
Now we’re on the Cher River, and it’s cooler.Autumn colors coming along.Grand Moulin
“Built on the river Cher by Jacques de Beaune, François I’s Superintendent of Finances in the first quarter of the 16th century, The Great Mill is noteworthy for its sliding mechanism suspended above the water. This ingenious mechanism, which is usually used between the arches of bridges, enabled the mill to work all year round, regardless of the water level.” This mill remained active until 1973, when a new mill was built just inland.
Fields of brown sunflowers say it’s time to head in for the season. And we’re almost out of Schengen days.Tours train station. That’s our train arriving behind Rich, one platform away.Bikes secured. Ready for the six hour trip to Lyon.
We had a nice night in Lyon, another very bike friendly city. After a little discussion with the bike friendly hotel which initially wanted to charge us to park the bikes in their garage, the manager saw our point about being bike friendly and relented. We had a nice Thai meal, went to a craft beer bar, and to bed. Big city advantages.
Enjoying the river path in the morning before we ride to the train station.A direct ride to the train station on a protected path.
The train from Lyon to Geneva is about 2 hours, then we were going to ride all the way to our home away from home, our good friends’ house in the Vallée Verte. It was our first time riding all the way up the valley, a very scenic 33kms/22 miles, but with almost 914m/ 3,000 feet of climbing. But scenic! Well stocked with snacks and having eaten lunch we headed off. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I had visions of sending Rich ahead to get a car to rescue me, or flagging down a passerby to take my bags and lighten the load – as if my French were up to the challenge! – but I made it.
Up we go.Hello alps.Still going up. There was some significant downhill since we choose a quiet route that went over a higher pass instead of direct. Made it! A nice sense of accomplishment to have arrived under our own power.
Even though we both had tired legs the next day it was wonderful to ride all the way up to our familiar and much loved French home. Four+ months of bike touring was a new record for us. The new bikes really made it fantastic. If you’ve backpacked it’s the same feeling of self sufficiency and being ready to go anywhere. Now, we are in Albania. We took our first flight in almost five months from Geneva to Tirana, Albania. More from Albania soon.
The Happy Travelers with our new haircuts in Triana, Albania.
The fearless leader of our tour of Brittany. In Normandy.
Rich and I joke that he is a tour leader with one client: me. He plans routes and navigates, books hotels, fixes mechanical issues on the bikes, and here in France, is also our translator. I provide restaurant and museum research, maintain a positive attitude in the group, and look for cats.
Off the ferry and on the bikes. Parc du Château des Ravalet. Hello France.The long stone farm buildings are so captivating.
Our tour started later than we normally get riding, the ferry docked at 2pm at Cherbourg, Normandy, and we had a hotel reservation in Port-Bail-sur-Mer, about 42km/26m south. That was our only reservation and destination. The first day riding in a new area means getting used to the traffic and temperament of the drivers, shifting to riding on the right hand side of the road, being charmed by the buildings and gardens, and bonjour-ing everyone I see.
The restaurant across the street from our hotel.Our first look at the tidal flats of Normandy. Sunset casts a golden light on the Church of Our Lady.
I get a bit stressed by eating out in France at first. My French is minimal at best, and I can find the handwritten chalk board menus difficult to read.
Oh yes, I’m reminded that I have entered the land of chalk board menus and delicious food. Moules marinières with frites. An easy choice in the land of seafood. The tide rushes in so quickly, and the water is so clear.
Switching to bike touring mode again after a lovely summer of long stays at house sits and with friends is a little tough. We tend to stay only one night in places until we need a rest day, but after a long day riding, the checking in, lugging bags, unpacking, doing shower or sink laundry, have dinner, sleep, breakfast and repeat, seems overwhelming the first few days. “Did we get bad at this?” I asked Rich. He was wondering the same thing, but, it only took a few days for what felt like too much, to become normal again.
Ready to roll from Port-Bail-sur-Mer. Panniers are perfect on the bike, but awkward off the bike.On to a multi use trail. Very relaxing riding.You know you’re in France when……you have baked goods strapped to your rack.The almost daily bakery stop, today in Lessay. Which is followed by the daily search for a bench in the shade upon which to enjoy the pastries at about the 20k mark. This one was in a cemetery. And an hour or two later, the search for a lunch spot. A picnic table is a welcome sight.
It’s not all about food, although food is important and delicious here, we also have a lot of stops to read history markers. Our first few days followed the path of General Patton’s Third Army as they broke through Normandy. We had a lot of history to ride though. Towns have streets named 28 of July, and further on 29 of July, to mark the day General Patton and the troops marched through, and bridges have plaques commemorating the march. It’s always spine tingling to read of what the French went through, and how much destruction was caused.
Pont de la Roque, bombed by the Allies to try to prevent the German troops from escaping. Welcome bike and pedestrian improvements in towns and villages. This road into Granville looked very new.
Over the last few years we’ve noticed France becoming more and more bicycle friendly. Towns have more car free space, speed limits have been lowered nationwide in town limits and signs put up showing that people on foot and bike have priority. Wider sidewalks with bollards, separated bike lanes, and rules for car drivers to give 1.5 meter passing space to bicyclists (1 m in town) have all made quite a difference. We love pedaling into a town and seeing the completed work, or the work underway, as France has pledged a billion euro more to make streets safer for bikes and pedestrians.
We had previously only seen this street treatment in Denmark. Bike lanes and a car lane shared by both directions of car traffic.In Denmark the bike lanes are red, here in France just marked by a dashed white line.Outdoor dining in Granville. That’s a bottle of cider. An extension of summer. Outdoor space still up and running.Sunrise, Port de Hérel. The view is from our room at the Ibis hotel.Heading out of Granville, another nice wide bike lane.How many times will I call a town charming? Bacilly was charming.
Our third night would be spent near Mont Saint-Michel, and it would be our final night in Normandy. We would cross into Brittany just west of Mont Saint-Michel.
Riding the coast of Normandy means skirting a lot of river estuaries, at Le Val-Saint-Père.Do not let your dog chase the Agneau de pré-salé (salt marsh lamb). A specialty of the area. This way to Le Mont.Now this way. The coast route is squiggly. There it is. We’d been catching glimpses of it all day as we rode, but this view – it’s otherworldly.
Rich booked the hotel near Le Mont just the day before. Off season means much more availability, even on a Saturday night. We debated riding right out to Le Mont before checking in at our hotel but we decided to check in, shower, leave the bags and ride back out the 5 kilometers so we could lock our bikes and walk around. The causeway leading out to Le Mont is only open to shuttle buses, bikes, and pedestrians.
Hotel Rose. Such character. But even better, we had a cabin with resident friendly cat whom we promptly named Deuce, for our cabin, number 12.Here we come, Mt. St. Michel! Denied! The causeway was closed to bikes for a light show extravaganza that evening.We retreated to the dam which was built to settle the sand from the incoming tide and avoid the river silting up. We got a nice photo with Le Mont.Did a little pouting.Watched some adorable tourists all get their Instagram shots.And back to our hotel for a bottle of wine and an Afgani dinner from the food truck run by the hotel owner’s sister and her husband.
Do not think we gave up. Even though the mosquitoes were feasting on us as we watched the wave from the incoming tide travel up the river to the dam, no staying for the extravaganza for us, we decided to get up with the sunrise and ride back out to Le Mont.
The next morning, rain was headed our way but we were not deterred. This is pre caffeine. Success. At the island with a dramatic sky.We were ready for the rain.Yikes! Let’s get this island viewing under way! Early Sunday morning and rain rolling in means very few other tourists. The Abby has a 1,300 year history. One other small group was walking around when we first arrived but we only saw them once.The rain and the tide rolling in. The medieval streets below the abbey.Although the shops cater to the tourists, the bones of the town remain visible. It was well worth getting up early and braving the threat of rain to see the Mont with so few other tourists. And back to our hotel for breakfast and much needed coffee and tea.
With the history of WW2 still so close, and much documented by historical markers and plaques, I had to look up what happened to Le Mont during that time. As you can guess it was held and occupied for four years and two months and – to our delight – we read it was liberated by one American, Private Freeman Brougher. You read that correctly, one Private in a jeep with two British reporters. Read the entire story here for a jolt of emotion and a few fantastic photos: https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/article/freeing-mont-saint-michel/
Photo from the article. More photos in the link to the website.
Although the rain held off for our visit to the island we were eventually caught after checking out of the hotel and heading out. We had to shelter to let the hardest rain pass by.
Barely on the road and already stopping to put our rain gear.The weather cleared as we continued along the coast, past windmills.And past these funny amphibious boats. They are used to harvest mussels. They can drive along the road, across the beach, and into the sea where the mussels are growing on pilings.Picnic spots of the world. We had managed to get to a small shop just before it closed for Sunday afternoon
There is a lovely feeling of familiarity, going from Wales to Brittany. Both are Celtic lands and we find similarities that catch us by surprise. The style of the old buildings, the way the doors and windows are framed by brick, certain words, and, arriving in Saint Malo, reading that Saint Malo arrived in Brittany from Wales. He was one of the seven founding saints of Brittany.
We had to look up this city emblem, it’s a dog.
Saint Malo is the setting for the book All the Light We Cannot See, which we both read, and we were reminded of that fact by our friend Bob (Hi Bob! Thanks!).
Another super bike friendly French city.With loads of beaches. Walking along the old ramparts. The city has a history of pirates! We stayed out in a neighborhood called Saint-Servan-sur-Mer. We rode our bikes down to a lovely harbor for high tide swims both mornings.You can see how the tide and ramp makes for a great swimming spot.Lovely sunsets.Rich added for scale. The happy travelers, just before a swim.
So far, some pretty fierce headwinds aside, we’re really enjoying Britanny. The history, the food (the butter and the salted caramel made from the butter!), and friendly people. Especially once we’ve pedaled away from the tourist areas – then we really enjoy the opportunities to chat with locals who don’t often get Americans pedaling through town. On we go!
The star is where we landed, the hearts are where we slept. The blue dot was me when I snapped this pic from google maps. (For you Ruth!)
Less Car, More Life 