En Bretagne

If your goal in travel is to experience new things, taste new foods, admire beautiful artifacts, then even a short trip will do. You can pack in a lot on a weekend getaway. You'll feel like you'd been gone a month, because you will have accumulated a trunkful of memories. 

But if your goal is to let go of stress and to ease into another world, to soak up its flavor with all your senses, to rid yourself of a mindset and to push yourself into a new chapter of your life -- a weekend wont do. I'm in Brittany for four nights and I'm wondering if four nights is enough. You have to stay in one place long enough to feel boredom. And I'm not bored yet.

At the same time, I feel the change in me and that's good. May it last.

 

The morning comes with emergent sunshine. Yes, it will rain today, but not until later (I'm told). Right now, it's looking good!

I have this idea: my breakfasts haven't been Bretonne enough. What if I walked over to the one bakery in centre ville, Le Vieux Fournil, and purchased their Kouign Amann, and brought it back to the breakfast table? Great idea, don't you think?

I set out. It's only a 12 minute walk and the Breton morning air feels so good!

 

 

 

I see a lot of activity by the bakery. People drive up, buy their daily fix, drive away. I'm excited!

 

 

But it seems that all they have are the usual croissants and baguettes. And the Far Breton, which my hotel supplies as well.

No! Where is your Kouign Amann?? She tells me -- it'll be ready around 11. Maybe 11:30. This just confirms what I have suspected recently: they dont eat the Kouign Amann just for breakfast here. They treat it as a dessert. (In my favorite bakery in Madison, it's thought to be a breakfast bread for sure.) 

I return, not sorry that I took the walk. Cities, towns -- they are at their most beautiful in the early morning I think. People beginning a day don't walk with hunched shoulders, tired, disappointed. Their pace is brisk, their spirits are (usually) high. It's great to watch. Even here, were there are very few people out and about.

 

 

But, pleasant as my unsuccessful stroll was, it did net me nothing Bretonne for my breakfast. I reshuffle things a little, adding a crepe to my plate, giving up on cappuccino in favor of a big cup of milky Brittany-style coffee, but these are meager efforts. I feel I am eating a very good hotel breakfast. Nothing more. Let's see if I can make up for it as the day progresses.

In fact, I have one last day in Perros-Guirec. That's always the toughest one. Usually this is when I shop for things that will prolong the feeling of being in a beautiful place. It never works of course, and within months I dont even remember where a shirt, a sea shell, or a plate, purchased with such love and excitement came from, but still, toward the end of a trip you want to pack something up to bring home. But of course, the shops are all closed today, so I'm spared that ritual.

A walk. I definitely want to walk. But where to? I walked the coast to the left, I walked the coast to the right. I'm going to go inland!

It's not totally random. I was given this map of the region and there are all kinds of markings on it signifying places of interest. One set of roads is all marked up by a green broken line and from what I can figure out, this means the route is interesting. or it leads you to interesting places. I like the rural roads here so why not!

First, down the steps to the beach...

 

Oh, we have waves today! Perhaps not big by Hawaiian surfer standards, but big enough that the locals rush to make the most of them.

Me, I'm thinking -- good thing I gave up on taking a boat trip to the seven islands (you can do that!). I hate bouncy waters.

Beautiful as the shoreline is, I turn in toward the middle of the thumb.

I can't say this was a splendid walk. Initially quiet, it then picked up a busier stretch of road. There was still a walking section for the likes of me, but honestly I preferred the quieter back roads of the other two days. Why the green broken line on the map? Meaning wherein was the attraction? I do not know.

Still, there were highlights. I saw some of Brittany's cropland. This is the land of cabbage, cauliflower and artichokes. Here we go!

What, you see clouds? Can't be much. They say rain in the afternoon. It's not anywhere near that... 

 

 

After a while I decided I was close enough to the port of Perros-Guirec that I should try yesterday's bakery once again. Just as I turned toward the shore, in the middle of nowhere (so -- no shelter), that rain cloud spread over us and dumped a whole load of rain. Of course, I hadn't bothered with the umbrella. The rain was supposed to come down later. Ah well...

(Finally, an overhang!)

(By the time I finished my walk, I'd dried out again.)

 

 

 

A reward awaits me at the bakery! 

 

 

They do still have the Kouign Amann.

(Not surprised that these guys favor hoodies...)

What's with me and this pastry, you may ask. Well, I actually would have liked to have tried other Breton cakes as well (there are so many!), but this one is the most common here. It's supremely rich (Kouign is Breton for cake and Amann -- butter). And sweet, so basically bad for you at every level. Nonetheless, it is deeply satisfying. Like a Breton version of chicken noodle soup for the soul. I rarely eat it back home, but here, of course I'm going to look for it!

And I'm thinking -- why don't I walk back past Le Vieux Fournil bakery and pick up theirs as well? I could compare!

Up to centre ville I go!

That plan is a bust. Le Vieux Feurnil bakers decided to close early for the day.

The French shops often do this: sorry to close, be back soon! (or not so soon). No matter. I have my pastry. And I have a chance to revisit this central spot in Perros-Guirec. It's where I began my explorations here. Right at this cafe, which so clearly is a preferred gathering spot for locals.

 

 

 

I consider lingering once again, but I'm itching to get back and stretch out. One last glance...

 

 

... and I turn toward the hotel.

The rest of the afternoon goes by too quickly. I must read, write, rest, steam myself up at the sauna, swim (there's a small pool), pack, I must take in Brittany, take in France. Who knows when I will be back. (That is of course my ridiculous approach to anything. Whatever happened to living for the moment!)

Dinner? At Le Belouga. Meaning at the hotel. I can do their regular menu tonight, concentrating on anything that belongs to Bretagne. For instance, "salade Cesar a la faconne Bretonne" -- with scallops and sardines, followed by cod wrapped in seaweed. Could we get more maritime than that?

(kir vin blanc, bread, salted butter, and a view)

 

(what can I say -- I'm in the middle of a thrilling mystery that takes place in Brittany! Who says dining alone is for the birds??)

 

It was a good choice.

And yet, the tug to do one last walk by the sea is strong. And so, of all things, I walk down all those steps once more...

And I take in the crashing waves...

... and the stars above...

 

How peaceful the world can be, for some, in good years... how grateful I am for having had these beautiful days en Bretagne.

with love...