It has been over a month, but I'm making myself sit down and focus on another blog entry. It's not as if nothing has happened to report on, it's just that I can always find something else to do other than this. I think it's called 'life'. We have been living a lot of 'life' lately and enjoying it enormously. Just yesterday a couple from Utrecht texted to see if we'd be home for a visit, and they arrived around 2pm and we farewelled them after dinner at the harbour around 10pm. That was the excuse for not doing a blog entry yesterday (as I had promised myself).
Today, this very moment, it is lightly (edit - heavily) raining. Yes, halfway through July, in summer, it is wet and quite cool - due to the jetstream in the atmosphere not having moved northwards as per usual. This posting is coming to you from the land summer forgot. That's all I'm really going to say about it - "Not happy Jan!"
This photo was taken by friend Peter Cronk on a beach in Plougasnou, Brittany, northern France, where the weather was also fickle, just like here. Rene had walked down the beach, an area where the tide moves more than 800m up and down the beach twice a day. The coastline of Bretagne is truly impressive with craggy rocks everywhere and beautiful sandy beaches. No pebbles here! Where we were there were so many villages with names starting with 'Plou'.... in ten days I never committed any of them to memory, and with so many narrow roads and names almost indistinguishable from each other, we relished our Tom Tom.
Rene, myself and Bob Kirkwood at Chapelle St Michele, one of the very many attractive communities along the coast. We reached this island by ferry and we noticed the mooring facilities that cater for the very great difference in tides.
Tom visited us not only to see where we live but also to meet up with friends Mark and Jim from Bribie island who were 'between cruises' on the MV Rotterdam, the Holland America ship in the background. They had just completed a fortnight's cruising around Scotland, Shetlands, Orkneys etc and had a day in port before setting off again for another fortnight this time to the Norwegian fjords and St Petersberg. Tough life!
Weather was tolerable that day, but only just. Rotterdam is a fascinating city, but we spent the day around the harbour and visiting the port on a cruise boat.
Poppies abound here at present, although dying off after a long time in bloom. The wild flowers here are extremely pretty. Our building is in the background.
Niece Lotte adorned in orange for one of the Dutch European Cup soccer matches. The Netherlands didn't make it past the first round, though not for lack of support from their fans. Lotte dines at Cafe Houtrust every Wednesday evening while she's working at the Atlantic Hotel at nearby Kijkduin. We'll miss her in a week's time when she disappears to Spain for a fortnight with a whole bunch of friends.
One Wednesday I didn't work, so Rene and I headed to the beach for lunch. This club is in the main boulevard strip which we often don't frequent. A delicious lunch was partaken of by us both - as usual, there is a picture :)
Not expensive, good quality, impressive dining on the beach Dutch style.
Walking back home is always via the harbour, and this day the crew were repairing the massive fishing nets. It was fascinating to watch this old skill being executed - even in this day of massive nets and huge cranes. Last evening we were again shortcutting home via the harbour and it was filled with even more boats/ships. The fleet here is somewhat reduced in numbers, but what remains is very large and more efficient.
Last month Rene and I travelled to Lannion in Brittany to join friends from Australia who had exchanged homes for a month. We travelled the 1000+ km by train rather than drive since we had access to a little Peugeot at the other end. We used five trains to get there, and all went remarkably well. A local train took us from Den Haag Holland Spoor to Rotterdam (a whole 12 minutes) where we joined the Thalys (above) for the 2hr45min journey to Paris Nord. A Metro transfer to Montparnasse saw us on a TGV (3.5 hrs) to St Brieuc, then a local train to Lannion (1 hr). A delightful way to travel, especially since the motorways here are fast but not always scenic.
The house swap involved a town house back in Lota, Brisbane, and this rural home 6km outside Lannion. It had five bedrooms and a pool - though that was never going to get used. There were nine of us there for the first two nights of our visit, then a couple left in their motor home so we had two nights in the main house then seven in the 'studio' above the garage (complete with bathroom).
Here Bill Hodgkinson (Toowoomba) is cleaning out the interior of the fantastic little Peugeot 207 diesel that took us around - four on board whilst others were in the camper van. The house just sprawled - very large and comfortable.
The studio was a few damp metres from the main house. I think the property was something like 6 acres, but it was certainly just a rural home rather than small farm (we were surrounded by small farms).
Our friend, Bob Kirkwood (Brisbane) took great delight serving this bottle of wine upon our arrival in France. It not only created a huge laugh but also tasted rather good for a cheap bottle of red wine.
Another picture of our day in Rotterdam with the lads from Bribie - their ship is in the background and our harbour cruise vessel, the 'Abel Tasman', is in the foreground.
...now, back to France:
Lannion is renowned for its Thursday market, so we ventured into town to see what we could buy. Food was everywhere in gorgeous mounds, colourful and glistening enough to tempt even the most jaded laid back tourist to part with a few euros here and there. Speciality of the region is gallettes/crepes. Gallette is a savoury crepe, whereas something termed 'crepe' is sweet. We sampled over nine days many varieties of these local favourites, even venturing to prepare gallettes at home. There is also a buttery and sweet cake that is a heart attack on a plate - I looked, but didn't try. Even this boy recognises his limitations.
Having said that, these little crepes are almost like pikelets and have slices of apple baked on top with sugar sprinkled on top. Euro 5.50 for a dozen, I merely bought one to taste test - mmmmm! They are consumed warm. I'm really glad I didn't buy a dozen to share because I really would have been tempted to try just a little more than one.
Seafood is very prominent in the Breton cuisine and the markets reflected this.
Handmade wheels of nougat. I only looked.
The variety of roasted meats on sale was incredible. Pork, smoked hams, duck, chicken all looked and smelled amazing. Incidentally the smile on this merchant's face is indicative of the really friendly atmosphere every Thursday at the market. Now, I did buy something good - a 29 euro jacket that is windproof and waterproof and very lightweight. I bought one the first day (in red) and came back a week later and bought another in navy. When you have to wear this clothing most of the year, it is nice to have some variety and choice in materials, styles and colours.
We visited many delightful medieval towns and Guingamp was just one of them - they are old town centres well preserved with more recent additions on the periphery. Many buildings had a 'stepped' look, from the fact that taxes were paid on the footprint of the building. Each subsequent floor was slightly wider than the previous one thus ensuring that gutters and roof edges were quite close together. At one point there was a terrible fire here and 1300 buildings (many thatched) burnt down, so an order went out to have all roofs covered in local slate when the rebuilding began.
On one day Rene and I had ventured by ourselves into town, and after it had begun to drizzle we thought we'd head off to the coast to the Sept Isles (Seven Islands). The boat leaves from Perros-Guirec. The archipelago is home to 27 species of birds, including 15
species of marine birds, with around 24,000 pairs including France’s largest
colony of northern gannets on Île Rouzic. We had heard of this lovely boat trip to the islands off the coast full of breeding colonies of puffins, gannets and the like from the others at the house. They had highly recommended it, so we went off not knowing when the trips left or even if the weather would allow good visibility. It turned out to be a major highlight with pleasant enough weather to start off with finishing with quite warm sunshine. The region is known as the Pink Granite Coast - Côte de Granit Rose - and it is certainly incredibly spectacular what with the bird life and the endless number of rocky islands of varying sizes.
Another part of the trip is 45 minutes on an island l’Île aux Moines which had once hosted a fortress and a monastery. Once again birdlife abounds, but here mainly sea gulls. Incredibly rugged, life here tested even the monks.
Walking around and across this small island made one think about how lonely and isolated this outpost must have seemed to the souls sent here to man it. Building it was one thing, but surviving here would have been somewhat harder.
You can see as we returned to the town that in three hours the skies had cleared and sunshine prevailed. This was at 4pm, enough time to sit at a cafe back on shore and enjoy a cold, refreshing beer.
One of the benefits of a house swap is the vast amount of local information and tips the owners leave behind. One of these was a restaurant where we lunched twice enjoying a two course lunch for around euro 11.50. If you think I focus a lot on food, I apologise in advance for what is about to follow - the biggest and best lunch of the trip. Another restaurant in a tiny nearby village was recommended, and Peter and Bernadette tried twice to book in for Sunday lunch but failed due to language and timing errors, but one afternoon we saw them open for workers lunch so we pounced and booked a table for seven people in the name of 'Pierre' Cronk. The lady said something about 'fruits de mer,' to which he said , "oui", and we left it at that. Come Sunday at 12:30, we arrived in rain (quelle surprise!) and walked in to find table upon table laden with mountains (OK, hills) of seafood. This was the promised fruits de mer. We sat down to a table for seven and two displays of seafood.
Now, a closeup will reveal dozens of langoustines, prawns, crabs and stunningly tasty oysters. We thought this was basically the meal, with perhaps a dessert of something, so we hoed into the fantastic bread (more 'appeared') and we polished off every last bit of seafood .... but after this...
... the course (below) appeared and consisted of the most delicious and plump coquilles St Jacques - the king of scallops - with a delicate creamy orange sauce and a tiny bit of smoked bacon between each parcel of meat that absolutely melted in your mouth.
Now you know that another course is coming because that's how I've set this up, but we were not sure what was going on - we were simply there for the ride. Next came course #3 (below)
Roast pork with mushrooms, tomato and green salad. Not being able to cover up the picture, you see (below) course # 4 - a selection of seven local cheeses, bread and green salad.
We had realised course #5 would be dessert because we had seen other tables getting served theirs, and we were offered four choices, and I chose creme brulee, but others at the table opted for equally delicious and different sweets. Oh, course #6 was coffee and chocolates, but you had already guessed that.
We walked carefully out of the restaurant feeling extremely full and satisfied. The bill? Well, it is sort of impolite to talk about money BUT six courses each for seven people PLUS four bottles of wine and colas came to 286 euros - that's forty euros per head (A$50). Fabulous food, memorable lunch, terrific social event.
Oh, a gentleman two tables over was enjoying a different dessert, and so were his fellow diners. He was celebrating his 96th birthday with our lunch but an enormous gooey cake for good measure to end their meal. They were lovely, and totally amazed that so many Australians had found Sunday lunch in their favourite restaurant tucked away in rural Bretagne.
On a Saturday the 'lads' left the ladies back at the house and took off for Brest, the naval port on the Atlantic coast. Our visit coincided with the launching of a new tramway system heralded by the continuous blaring of a ship's horn along with every bell in the city ringing out. The first tram ride after the opening is pictured below, and extremely smart they look too.
Walking along the main street we noticed a clutch of colourful, yet naked, people striding along the route. This is the best photo I could get because the Press were getting in the way of my humble lens.
Peter and Bernadette's daughter, Rebecca, was having a birthday the next day so we bought her some macarons from this spectacular display.
On the way back to Lannion from Brest we detoured to check out the lovely town of Morlaix, dominated by this enormously high viaduct which carries the mainline trains above and through the town. The stone is beautiful and quite a mellow grey. Some buildings in the town date back to the 16th century.
I love these narrow lane ways permeating the many town and villages we visited. Sometimes they were challenging to walk because they rose and fell at alarming degrees to the horizontal.
The picture below from Chapelle Saint Michel-Treve shows how high the tide moves during a short period. Our ferry had to reposition after only a few minutes tied up to allow for the rise in tide as we were about to board. Shades of Broome, WA.
Below is an extremely old tide driven mill for producing flour. I have never ever heard of one, and just now on TV was a program about green technology. I'd say that would have been quite seriously 'green'.
The final tourist spot Rene and I visited alone (the others had been there before we arrived) was Saint Malo. It was quite foggy when we arrived, and the mist didn't seriously lift completely all afternoon. It was a most impressive place to visit. Located in the north of Brittany, St Malo was named after Father MacLaw, a Welsh monk and bishop who fled Wales to Brittany in 538. This 44-acre fortified city became very famous in 1590 when its inhabitants declared it an independent republic! Their motto was "Neither French nor Breton, but a Corsair am I". This status did not last more than four years but that was long enough for St Malo’s residents to earn a strong reputation as rebels. In the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries, St Malo acquired considerable wealth, not only from its maritime trade between the Americas and Europe but also, and mainly, from the very lucrative ventures of its corsairs. The trade generated by the "Newfoundlanders", those fleets that set off to fish for cod in Newfoundland (east coast of Canada), accounted for some of St Malo’s prosperity and glory. However, its most profitable business, without a doubt, came from capturing merchant English and Dutch vessels with the King of France's blessing!
The harbour wall offers an impressive view of the fortified city.
OK, final food picture of the entry. Above in foreground is my Gallette Speciality which was potatoes, ham, cheese and Rene's was with sardines. Yummm!
The impressive church was seriously damaged in the war and was essentially completed in 1977 but further restoration continues today. The windows are impressive.
Final day, after lunch with the others, we left on the regional train (above) to St Brieuc, then boarded the TGV for Paris. This gorgeous little dog, opposite us, also travelled first class to Paris and was no problem during the 3 1/2 hour journey.
