Last days

August 16

Rouen

Joan of Arc (French: Jeanne d'Arc,[4] IPA: [ʒan daʁk]; ca. 1412[5] – 30 May 1431), nicknamed "The Maid of Orléans" is considered a heroine of France and a Roman Catholic saint. She was born to a peasant family at Domrémy in north-east France. Joan said she received visions of the Archangel Michael, Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine instructing her to support Charles VII and recover France from English domination late in the Hundred Years' War. The uncrowned King Charles VII sent Joan to the siege of Orléans as part of a relief mission. She gained prominence after the siege was lifted in only nine days. Several additional swift victories led to Charles VII's coronation at Reims. On 23 May 1430, she was captured at Compiègne by the allied English-Burgundian faction. She was later handed over to the English,[6] and then put on trial by the pro-English Bishop of Beauvais Pierre Cauchon on a variety of charges.[7] After Cauchon declared her guilty she was burned at the stake on 30 May 1431, dying at about nineteen years of age.[8]

Twenty-five years after her execution, an inquisitorial court authorized by Pope Callixtus III examined the trial, debunked the charges against her, pronounced her innocent, and declared her a martyr.[8] Joan of Arc was beatified in 1909 and canonized in 1920. She is one of the nine secondary patron saints of France, along with St. Denis, St. Martin of Tours, St. Louis, St. Michael, St. Remi, St. Petronilla, St. Radegund and St. Thérèse of Lisieux.

Joan of Arc has been a popular figure in cultural history since the time of her death, and many famous writers, filmmakers and composers have created works about her. Cultural depictions of Joan of Arc have continued in films, theatre, television, video games, music, and performances to this day.

Chateau Gaillard:Saucy Castle

Joan of Arc (French: Jeanne d'Arc,[4] IPA: [ʒan daʁk]; ca. 1412[5] – 30 May 1431), nicknamed "The Maid of Orléans" (French: La Pucelle d'Orléans), is considered a heroine of France and a Roman Catholic saint. She was born to a peasant family at Domrémy in north-east France. Joan said she received visions of the Archangel Michael, Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine instructing her to support Charles VII and recover France from English domination late in the Hundred Years' War. The uncrowned King Charles VII sent Joan to the siege of Orléans as part of a relief mission. She gained prominence after the siege was lifted in only nine days. Several additional swift victories led to Charles VII's coronation at Reims. On 23 May 1430, she was captured at Compiègne by the allied English-Burgundian faction. She was later handed over to the English,[6] and then put on trial by the pro-English Bishop of Beauvais Pierre Cauchon on a variety of charges.[7] After Cauchon declared her guilty she was burned at the stake on 30 May 1431, dying at about nineteen years of age.[8]

Twenty-five years after her execution, an inquisitorial court authorized by Pope Callixtus III examined the trial, debunked the charges against her, pronounced her innocent, and declared her a martyr.[8] Joan of Arc was beatified in 1909 and canonized in 1920. She is one of the nine secondary patron saints of France, along with St. Denis, St. Martin of Tours, St. Louis, St. Michael, St. Remi, St. Petronilla, St. Radegund and St. Thérèse of Lisieux.

Joan of Arc has been a popular figure in cultural history since the time of her death, and many famous writers, filmmakers and composers have created works about her. Cultural depictions of Joan of Arc have continued in films, theatre, television, video games, music, and performances to this day.

We stopped at the square where Joan was executed and found the site is marked by a stone in a pleasant garden.  There is a very modern church and covered market built on the square and a moving memorial wall erected to Joan's memory.

Monet's Gardens

Claude Monet noticed the village of Giverny while looking out of a train window. He made up his mind to move there and rented a house and the area surrounding it. In 1890 he had enough money to buy the house and land outright and set out to create the magnificent gardens he wanted to paint. Some of his most famous paintings were of his garden in Giverny, famous for its rectangular Clos normand, with archways of climbing plants entwined around colored shrubs, and the water garden, formed by a tributary to the Epte, with the Japanese bridge, the pond with the water lily, the wisterias and the azaleas.

Monet lived in the house with its famous pink crushed brick façade from 1883 until his death in 1926.  He and many members of his family are interred in the village cemetery.

We spent a pleasant couple of hours wandering around the gardens and through the house.  The gardens were filled with colour and were mass of different varieties, sometimes in bed, but more often in glorious mixtures.  Crossing under the road we walked past a bamboo thicket to reach the famous water lily lake which had a sparse selection of lilies, but was very recogniseable as the subject of the paintings.

Dinner was at a restaurant that consisted of a couple of open shelters for the bar and kitchen and 10 tables set on an open terrace bounded by a stream facing a field of cows.

August 17

The accommodation at Giverny was rustic with the floor in the main room on 2 levels divided by a rough stone step. It is situated on a road that can only be described as narrow – the parking sensors were in their red zone on both sides of the car and it would be impossible to open the doors and get out except at a gateway and only then on one side.

Heading for Paris we stopped at Les Andelys which has noted views over the Seine and Eure valleys, but decided against the climb to the imposing 11^th century castle that stands over the town and provides the viewpoint. The town has 2 parts, one centred on a large square and the other (Le Petite Andelys) nestled on the bank of the Seine with less shops, but an imposing church.

August 18

Downhill all the way to Auckland.

Reflecting on our stay in France I have decided that the French can build very good roads, but generally decide not to. Many of the roads are narrow with ditches or hedges and areas where it is not possible for 2 cars to pass are often not marked. It is left to the driver to determine whether they can fit through the space available and what speed is safe around corners – even hair pin bends and sharp blind corners are not marked in advance. Although many intersections have mirrors to warn of approaching traffic it is still often necessary to edge out into the road before ir is possible to see if it is safe. Generally, apart from the north coast areas, I found the other drivers considerate and forgiving. Very little impatience or speeding.

Normandy

Another week without internet .....

August 10

After cleaning the gite we headed off to Normandy. A stop first at Dinan, a reasonable size town situated above the river Rance. In mediaeval times Dinan was a primary supply point for St Malo and the coastal trade and there is a small port on the river. However the first thing we saw on entering the town was Gillian's happy place, a market. We found a park and walked back through the old town which had a number of half timbered houses, including the Rue de Porches – so named because of the number of “porch” houses with the first floor cantilevered out across the street. The cathedral, Basilisque St Sauveur,here is notable for housing the heart of Bertrand du Guesclin . He was a 14^th century knight noted for his hatred of the English! The Basilisque is a huge, sober church, quite dark and with a soaring Gothic chancel. A nice feel to it and I much enjoyed the tolling of the 12:00 bells.

Having wandered round the “old stuff” we spent half an hour cruising through the market, then headed off to Mont St Michel. The mount is well set up for large numbers of tourists on the land side with huge carparks and a steady stream of shuttle buses. While there were a number of people walking, we opted for the shuttle which turned out to be a strange double ended vehicle with a driving cab and a small platform at each end. While it may save a minute turning round at each end, it seems to be a waste of space that could have been used to increase the capacity.

The causeway to the mount is being replaced by a new bridge. While the bridge is in place the road at the mount end still requires work, so we were taken over the causeway. We entered the mount through a narrow gate in the wall (the only entrance I think) and found there is only one road. First it crosses a drawbridge, through a gatehouse then winds up the east side of the hill getting steeper and narrower as it goes. Given the number of people the crush was intense as in parts the raod could only take 3 people abreast and the traffic was in both directions. The road was lined with old houses all of them turned into restaurants, creperies, souvenir shops and other tourist traps.

We skipped the prisons and dungeons tour (the mount had been used as a prison for 200 years after the French revolution) and climbed many flights of stairs to the cathedral. The cathedral complex is stark as it has almost no ornamentation, but it's sheer scale and position are impressive. The cathedral itself is perched on top of the rock pinnacle with supporting columns arranged around to support the weight. On the north side are monastery buildings which rise to the level of the cathedral with 4 levels containing a refectory, kitchens, chapels, chapter house, ... topped with large church and cloisters. The rooms are of huge dimensions, particularly when you consider that the lower floors support thousands of tonnes of stone above.

In the complex of rooms around the columns under the cathedral itself is a tread mill used for raising supplies and building materials to the level of the cathedral. It was powered by 3 men walking inside the wheel which has a diameter of about 6m. The wheel pulled a trolley up an almost vertical track up from the area of the gatehouse.

After leaving the mount we headed for our next gite in Caumont-L'Evente. It is a one bedroom one level cottage apparently built against an old wall as a lean-to at the back of a tennis court.

Heading out to find a restaurant we found the only place in town was closed for a private function so tried the next village where we had a reference for a restaurant (10km away), but found that closed so headed home for a meal of fresh Breton produce we had bought with us. Strange to have nothing available on a Saturday night!

August 11

Today we first headed to a nearby town of Togrigne-Sur-Vivre here there is a real farmers market. We didn't find the calves that had been mentioned in our guide, but there were all sorts of fowl and rabbits available. Some of the rabbits were displayed in cane baskets with nothing stopping them escaping, but when they did move it was only to hop into the neighbouring basket from where they were picked up by the scruff of the neck and firmly put back into their correct one. It was aa cooler day – around 19 – 20 degrees at this time of day and the ducklings and rabbits were all huddled together in their cages for warmth. Every so often one or other who were on the outer edge would scramble over the ones further in in a bid to warm up their rear end! This caused a general reconfiguration and jockeying for the best spot!!

Normandy beaches

We drove up to the beaches and visited Utah beach first.The US soldiers who landed here fared better than those who landed on Omaha beaches. Most of their landing craft made it to shore and they cleared the area by mid day. By nightfall 20,000 men and 1700 vehicles had arrived. There were several memorials to Engineers and Navy including one to the Danish Navy. There was a flat sandy beach backed by dunes. No evidence of the action there remains,unlike our next stop at Pointe Du Hoc.

This was a sobering site. At 7:10am on 6 June 1944 225 US army Rangers commanded by Lt Col James Earl Rudder scaled the 30 metre sheer cliffs here, where the Germans had a battery of huge artillary guns perfectly positioned to rain shells on the beaches of Utah and Omaha. The Rangers did not know that these guns had been transferred inland. There were still Germans in the bunkers reamined at Pointe Du Hoc armed with rifle, machine guns, anti aircraft guns etc and it wasn't until 8 june, when relief arrived were the US Rangers able to dislodge the Germans.At this time 81 Rangers were dead and 58, including Rudder himself, were wounded.The reason relief did not come earlier was due to a delay in the rangers landing and ascent of the cliffs. They were not able to land where they had intended, lost the element of surprise and their ropes were wet and did not function as well as they should have. The time set for sending a signal of success on making it to the Pointe Du Hoc, 6.00am was not achieved as they arrived an hour and 10 minutes late!!! One bunker can be visited still although many are still there – in ruins. The bunker we visited is the observation bunker sited right at the edge of the Pointe with sheer drop below it and an excellent view over Utah and Omaha beaches. It is a rabbit warren of small dark rooms and a larger room with a semi circular slit at head height. There were about that 5-6 gun emplacements.All that remains of these are either almost complete and others in ruins. We did not get to Longues Sur Mer where the only in situ weapons remain.

 The next stop was Omaha beach. There are steep rise behind the beach ( now clad with houses – some of which would have been there at the time of the landings). The beach itself is a long flat golden beach. I shuddered at the thought of men landing, often in deep water, and struggling in to shore, weighed down with weaponry, underwater obstacles and mines. They were under machine gun and mortar fire from the Germans on the rises above the beach. Many drowned, many died from this fire coming from 3 battalions of heavily armed, highly trained Germans. No wonder veterans called this “Bloody Omaha”. Of the 2500 men who landed, 1,000 were fatalities,most of them dying in the first hour of landing.Toady we saw no sign of the battle that had raged here. It was by now 22 degrees and people were swimming and enjoying the beach despite the strong wind and patchy cloud covered sky.As it was not long after high tide there was no sign of the Mulberry Harbour remains.

I really felt overwhelmed by images as I read memorials and acknowledgements of what these men did, achieved and often gave their lives for.One inscription, inside the Bunker at Pointe Du Hoc read:”Greater love hath no man than he lay down his life for his friends”. That sent a chill down my spine because this is exactly where and is exactly what these young men did in the face of horrific conditions. I wondered about the fear, terror, rage they might have experienced, how they went forward onto completely unknown territory.

So leaving what is now a pretty stretch of coast line we went to the American Cemetery and
memorial.It is situated The photos speak for themselves about the extent of the graves, white crosses and stars of David.There are 9387 graves of US soldiers including including 41 pairs of brothers. There is also a memorial to 1557 soldiers whose remains were never found. To read the figures of the dead is shocking, to see the graves row upon row, stretching out further and further is a sad, sad feeling. We wandered along the rows, some unknown “Only not to God” , most young men who were so young at their time of death. I felt that this was all so very wrong but what alternative was there?

Actually there are a number of war cemetries in this part of Normandy. All beautifully maintained and peaceful. As we wandered toward the memorial I reflected on the large numbers of young men and women who were visiting the site. I wondered as to their reasons.The memorial is huge and documents the extent of the allied forces activities in Europe and in particular in the Battle of Normandy. Across the top of this curved memorial are the words in Latin: We, once conquered by William, have now set free the Conqueror's native land.” These words are so poignant.I tried to photo this inscription - not sure what it will look like. Now! I have just discovered that these are the words at the Bayeau War Commonwealth memorial cemetery – on a not dissimilar arcade! Make sense – why would the US write that!

The final stop was to Aromanches where we went up to a hill east of the town where there is a statue of the Virgin Mary.From here we had a stunning view of the area where the Mulberry Harbour had been ( destroyed by a huge storm 2 weeks after D -Day landings) and where you can still see parts of the Port Winston. These huge concrete caissons were towed over from England and then sunk to form these semicircular breakwaters. These facilitated the landing of 2.5 million men , 4 million tonnes of equipment and 500,000 vehicles! As we looked out over the remains of Port Winstoe, still evident after all these years, it bought home to me just how massive these landings were, the preparation, planning.So many variables were involved,so many resources,so many countries were involved – including the free French and the resistance, so many opportunities for things to go wrong. How grateful I felt that in the end it spelt the end of the Nazi regime even though so many, many people suffered so much. Photos of the French people living in Normandy during this battle and accounts of how much they suffered really made bought home to me that as this war raged about them their live were torn apart.

We looked down from this hill at Gold beach where the British landed. They did encounter real hazards when they landed in high water but within 2 hours the Allied armored divisions were on land. They did not have steep rises behind the beach to contend with.

We noted that the memorials to the Allied forces ( including Canadian) were much less evident in the area of Gold and Juno beaches. While American, Canadian and British flags fly in all towns along te coast it is at Utah and Omaha and Pointe Du Hoc that the detailed accounts of the landings and large memorials are present. They give a really good account of conditons, events and people involved.

That completed our visit.A very important visit and one worth remembering.

August 12

We headed up to Bayeux and found the main carpark full. After cruising through narrow one way streets we happened on someone leaving a park on the other side of the road. Once I got over the natural NZ reluctance to park facing the wrong way we grabbed it and found that we had scored a free park on the back door of the tapestry museum! We didn't find this out until later as we walked right past the museum without seeing any signage and even with a determined search couldn't find the tourist office. Since we could see the cathedral we headed there.

The exterior of the cathedral is a superb example of a late Gothic architecture with spidery flying buttresses around the east end with a solid Romanesque style facade to the west. The interior was not ornate, but had a degree of solemnity. Even with the sizeable crowd there was a feeling of calm.

Following a sign (back towards our car) we found our way to the tapestry museum and joined a long queue at the ticket office, then another queue for the audio guides. Finally in to the gallery of the tapestry we moved in a slow procession along the length of the gallery listening to the commentary scene by scene then turned across the far end and continued back down the other side. The “tapestry” is very long (60m I seem to recall), but only about 600mm high. It was designed to be displayed aroung the nave of the cathedral to illustrate the events of the Norman conquest of England. There is a central panel with the events depicted with top and bottom borders for most of the length with gryphons, centaurs and other mythical creatures with occasional non-secateurs such as donkeys and scenes from Aesops Tales. The tapestry is actually a woolen embroidery on linen cloth and is in remarkably good condition given nearly 1000 years and less than ideal storage for some of it. After the revolution it was almost used as a tarpaulin on a wagon bound for Paris. After WWII it was recovered from the German arts haul at the Louvre and returned to Bayeux. Apparently the last panel is missing and there is no comment on what the may have contained.

The actual artwork is astonishingly consistent and, with the commentary explaining the scenes, the continuity and amount of information contained in the simple pictures is astonishing. While the depiction is from the Norman point of view, it depicts Harold in good terms in some scenes and doesn't shy away from the problems the Normans faced on a couple of occasions. I found it interesting that no-one knows who created it, why or where. There are plenty of theories, but there is no record.

On leaving the museum around 2pm we found the queues to get in had disappeared.

August 13

A quiet day in the gite with a trip to Balleroy in the afternoon to visit the chateau there. With indifferent weather we didn't tour the grounds much, but did a tour through some of the rooms in the 
chateau. The property was purchased by a wealthy American in the 1970s who restored it after it had been in the hands of the Balleroy family for 600 years. It was originally constructed in the 1630s in a grand style with an architectural plan that included a broad approach avenue and a planned town around the entrance. The chateau itself is not huge, but has an imposing frontage when viewed from the approach. At some point (19^th century?) someone had decorated the 3 bedrooms on the first floor of the south wing with themes of Queen Victoria, the Battle of Waterloo and Louis-Phillippe 1^st. Every room we saw had huge paintings on every wall and the main room on the first floor had a ceiling painted with the 4 seasons and the related zodiacal symbols.

August 14

We decided that Le Havre was too far given the relatively few attributes that caught our fancy, so we started at Trouville-sur-Mer and Deauville, 2 seaside towns, one each side of the River Auge. Trouville is the older town with character and is still a fishing port with a wide flat beach. Deauville is a newer and brasher town with modern imitation half timber buildings on a grand scale and a waterfront given up to swanky facilities and lined with monstrous houses and apartments.

Moving on we headed down the Auge Valley stopping first at Beaumont-en-Auges which has a
panoramic view over the valley, a great selection of old houses, many half timbered, and a claim to fame as the birthplace of tbe mathematician Laplace.

Next stop was Beuvron-en-Auge in the middle of the cider producing region. A quick stop at the local producer to sample the cider and calvdos. While the hostess had little English, there was enough graphic information in the sales room to show that the calvados (apple brandy) is made from the cider using pot stills.

At Crevecoeur-en Auge we passed on inspecting the Norman castle, but found the town was a delightful old world village. Many of the towns in this region are minute with one we passed through seeming to only have a church and 2 farms spread over 1km.

We finished the tour at Cambremer, supposedly the chief market town of the region, but we couldn't find the market square and the weather was closing in so we called it quits and headed back to Caumont L'Event by way of an Intermarche supermarket where we hovered for half an hour over a variety of fish and meat skewers trying to decide on the dinner menu.

August 15

Our last relaxing day for the trip. At last the sun has come out so we sat round the swimming pool and talked to our neighbours, a family from Worchester.

Northern Brittany

4 August

Today we decided to look at the "Cote de Granite Rose", an area around Tregastel that features rock of pink coloured granite, often sculpted by the weather into interesting shapes.

Arriving at our first target of Perros-Guirec we discovered a traffic jam leading into the town, so took the line of least resistance ant went on to Ploumanoc where there is a large area of protected coastline with piles of the granite boulders.  The rock is made up of  quartz, mica and feldspar and has s coarse texture of pink and gray  The gray areas are obviously softer and weather more giving the rocks a rough surface.  Some of the rock piles are spectacular with large rocks perched precariously high is the air.  There were a lot of people, many with cameras, enjoying the sunshine along the walkways through the rocks.  Off the coast we could see the "Iles Sept" which are small barren islets that are the home of many seabirds, including puffins, though we didn't see anything other than seagulls.  Although named the Seven Isles there are only 5 official islands so they have roped in a couple of rocky reefs to make up the number.

Gillian was very taken with the heathland vegetation with heather, gorse and blackberry and red current growing intertwined - it looked like the gorse had purple flowers.

We moved on to Tregastel where (surprise!) we found a big market, so we found a park and wandered around as the stallholders started to pack up.  I wonder how the shop owners feel about having the town effectively closed down for most of the day once a week as the market took over all the main streets and completely blocked the shop fronts.  This market was more arty-crafty than most and had fewer vegetable, meat and fish stalls and prices were somewhat higher and aimed at the tourist market.

As the sun was out we headed down to the towns main beach, Greve Blache.  Although our tourist guide had mentioned that the beaches around here tended to a pink colour from the granite, the sand here is pure white.  Quite a few people were in the water, but it wasn't warm enough to tempt us in.  There were many large rocks out in the bay and 2 teenagers were climbing and leaping off one that would have given them a drop of 6m even with the tide well in.  As the beach sloped reasonably steeply there wasn't the endless distance down to the water we have seen in other areas even though the tidal range is extreme.Gillian went in for 2 paddling sessions up to her knees. The water is beautifully clear and after the shock wore off it was quite pleasant.

After spending some time in the sun we went looking for dolmens down the coast, finding 1 in the weeds beside the road and another in a field on Ile Grande, a small island accessed by a causeway through the mudflats.  The second ( circa 3-5,000 years BC) was the better example with 2 large flat stones perched on 2 rows of vertical stones with another smaller row of vertical stones to one side.  The sheer manpower required to move these stones and lift them into place is astonishing.  But then, how many of our modern monuments will last 5000 years?

Our final stop of the day was at Trebeuren when the main point of note we saw was a huge stand of rocks standing by the port.  We skipped trying to find the chapel listed in the guidebook and headed home to the gite.

5 August

Today we headed east to St Malo which was a basic exercise in deciding which carpark queue to join.  On the way in we had to stop for a bunch of trawlers to come into the inner harbour and yachts to leave as the road we were on passed over a swing bridge giving access to the harbour from a lock.  The whole exercise took about 15 minutes which would be frustrating if you used that route regularly but we found it fascinating.  Having patiently waited we scored a park and wandered into the old town which is mainly characterised by the thick defensive walls that entirely surround the rock the town is built on.  As much of the town was damaged during the war there is a more modern feel and the streets were crowded with tourists.  However the beaches on the seaward side look nice and there is a picturesque island that is only accessible at low tide just to the north.  As with many French towns much of the commercial area is dedicated to food with creperies, restaurants and sandwich outlets jostling one another.

In the centre of town there is a memorial for WWI and WWII combatants, resistance fighters and civilian casualties.

We moved on to Dinard, but didn't find anywhere near the beach or town centre to park so headed up to the headland at the east end where we had a spectacular view over the town.  The beach is a reasonable size and has a row of blue and white striped beach tents for the sun-shy which are apparently peculiar to Dinard.  The town is notable for a number of huge houses and the headland at the west end has a group of around 6 grand houses standing like huge teeth.

A hike back to the gite via the supermarket at Yffiniac - a Super U which makes me realise what The Warehouse could have done if they had moved on with their move into the supermarket business as more than a few of the chains here force you to walk though the general merchandise and clothing areas to reach the fresh food areas.  It obviously works.
Gillian once again had to be bought to heel - drooling over cabinets of fish products is not done in France nor is excited jumping up and down in front of shelves of varieties of bread or assorted pate and meat products - not to mention mouth open gawping in the vegie departments e.g mushroom varieties, artichoke hearts, fennel, sorrel etc.

6 August

A quiet day at the gite.

7 August
Today we went back to the west  of  Cotes d'Armor Brittany - about 80kms. The first stop was Paimpol. this is another pretty fishing village. This was at one time the port for the Icelandic fishery. men would go to sea around Iceland for 7 months or more at a time. Today it is working fishing port. There are 2 harbours - we saw one of them as well as a couple of bays in the surrounding district.  The harbour is a basin surrounded by walls and  wharves, entered through a lock. In times past the port had been flooded by high tides  until a sea wall was built to deal with the problem. In the harbour were many leisure  sailing craft and several fishing boats. The latter are small in size, many aged and quite rusty but carry serious fishing tackle.Stephen noted a number of gaff rigged and with tan sails. Some small  wooden hulled boats were  docked at the quay in front of the village main  street. These were quite intriguing -I noted that on one boat the washing up had been left to drip dry. We were told that this weekend there was a festival of wooden hulled boats so these must have been the early birds.

insert photos

When we arrived at Paimol the road leading to the town centre was blocked with traffic. Hearing something like a loud speaker I rolled down my window and sure enough there was a small van with very large speaker on top blasting out the news - in French - that the circus was coming to town. No surprise as we had noted the advertising banners for these on almost every power pole coming into town and saw on the outskirts the tents being set up. What was a surprise was a large truck following the van with an equally large open sided trailer attached. In the trailer was an elephant with nothing hobbling it - it could have stepped off at any time when the truck stopped, which was often as this huge contraption maneouvered its way through narrow streets, round a bouts and cars circling it. Stephen took evasive action, changed lanes and using the GPS map we headed to the outskirts of the town. We found a small building beside an inlet from the sea. A gate had been built at the end of the inlet, capturing water for a small lake. The usual bouys circled an area for swimming. We walked along ontop of the low dam over the gate where a man was teaching a little boy to fish. On inspection the water was greenish and sludgy looking. We thought the gate hadn't been open to fresh sea water for some time! there was a flock of dark gray coloured geese  swimming across the lake in a very precise line, one after the other. As each bird arrived on the beach ( a little artificial golden sanded beach) the paddled became a seamless waddle up the beach directly to some bread that a mother and child had just left ! Amazing they sensed that from  a good 25 meters, also 2 large white swans were feasting there already. These large swans made no demur at the arrival of the geese. They decamped and swam quite close by us - immaculate white feathers, not a feather out of place.

We had a look at the bay. the tide was out and there was no water at all in the bay.A vast expanse of mud flats, some low lying rocks and a few boats lying on their sides and some with props.

We then went back to Paimol by local roads and parked by the harbour. .As we crossed the road the circus reappeared and we watched up close as they drove by. The elephant as standing on the truck bed waving its trunk constantly surrounded by young 'handlers' dressed in circus attire. My heart went out to the elephant, surrounded by the noise and traffic driving past in the opposite direction. And knowing also this was a regular way of life - as well as performances in the ring. The posters had also shown camels and lions that are part of the circus act - not something I am at all comfortable with.

Having looked at the lovely medieval half timbered houses and shops, cafes etc we drove next to see the remains of an Abbey de Beaupport, founded around 800 AD. The Napoleon and co. destroyed the church there but you can see something of the interior that remains. It must have been a very beautiful building and accommodation for the monks in its day. Given the age of its construction we again were reminded of the mammoth task that was accomplished - not just the building itself but the intricate embellishments. The surrounding lands owned by the abbeye are extensive.

Next port of call was a point in the area of Circuit de falaises  at Pointe de Ploueze. This is an area where the highest cliffs in Brittany can be viewed. This was another stunning view of crystal clear sea, very little surf lapping at the rocks and steep cliffs framed by lovely sky, with high light cloud and warm sunshine. We drank our fill of the beauty and quietness and then left for the final stop of our day. this time we traveled further west of Paimpol to a lovely town nestling beside the river Jaudy. This is Treguier. We had lunch at a fish restaurant facing the river port - I had fish soup for the first time - quite nice and very fishy to taste. Stephen had a wonderful tomato gazpacho soup. Our poor waitress, struggling with about as much Englsih as we had French kept asking us if this was all we wanted - not the 3 courses then? In the end Stephen patted his tummy and said 'Je complet!" She understood then but obviously thought we were mad English - "tres fou!"

We wandered up a fairly steep incline to the town square and there visited the Cathedrale Saint Tugdual. This is another particularly gorgeous building. Inside the organist was practicing - as we have found several times in Brittany.This was a serous organ .I could sense that with all stops out  it could make those massively think stone walls quiver. The quality of tone was pure and a joy to listen to. It was lovely to sit and reflect in this peaceful cathedral, enjoying the atmosphere, again a tangible feeling of peace. The stained glass windows are fabulous, sun shining through them brought the colours alive.
There is a relic of St Tugdual in a small glass box attached to the wall of a side chapel.A thin bone of his with his name engraved into it!!! Not my thing at all!
Outside we reveled in looking at the three towers , fist the more modest Romanesque tower, then the Gothic tower, and finally the Classical era tower. From this rang the bells at 1/2 hourly intervals - a lovely combination of sounds low to higher register. Wonderful to stand still and listen as they rang out over the town, as they have for hundreds of years.

Just beyond the tower is the most moving memorial to the young soldiers killed in the first world war. This is a woman in typical Breton mourning clothes . She epitomizes all the women, mothers, wives, sister etc who lost their young men in that great slaughter.

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We continued to wander and marvel at the streets and building - noting the birthplace of the man who sculptured the grieving woman.

It was time to call it a day so we traveled back to the gite again - via the Super U again! Oh joy and bliss.

Southern Brittany

28 July

Today we headed off to the south. First to Pont Aven where Gaugan discovered this idyllic place to paint.The town abounds with galleries. We visited some – styles vary. Some are in the style of Gaugin at this point in his career, some in the impressionist style – Monet in particular, some modern ( I fell in love with one but my spouse honesty gave it the thumbs down – good move when I looked at the price!!) and some quite abstract paintings .

The town itself is centred around the head of an inlet with a series of watermills seried down the stream leading into it. When we arrived the tide was out so that all the boats were sitting on the mud – the yachts have outriggers attached so that they remain upright while the tide is out. The approach to the town is picturesque with flower boxes arranged along the stone walls and the wooden pedestrian bridge across the stream. It all reminded me of Cornish fishing villages.

Just below the mills there was a quay with a few boats tied alongside including a 100 year old gaff rigged schooner with a banner “Old Gaffers Associaton” on the boom. Across the other side of the inlet there were 2 shoals of fish holding their position in the stream while a fisherman tried to catch one. He managed to get one hooked, but lost it before getting it out of the water.

We wanted to check out the beaches around here so headed to Point Trevignon where we found the obligatory small fishing port protected by an absurdly high breakwater (the tide was out remember) and a rocky coastline. Finding a good sized beach we parked and walked down with dark clouds hanging over us. There were 3 people trying to sunbathe and another group down by the water – 1 of the group was swimming, but didn't stay in long. When we got to the water (100m from the high tide mark) G put her feet in and declares it freezing. As we left there were a few drops of rain and a German group who had been pulling loungers out of their van, parked at the edge of the road, appeared to be packing up.

We moved on to Concarneu and found a park near the old town and a passing man handed us a parking ticket good for 2 hours, which was the time we intended to stay there. The town itself is thoroughly modern and commercial, but the old walled town located on an island was a through and through tourist trap. With one road between the old houses it was a continual series of ice creem parlours, restaurants and souvenir shops with the road packed with tourists including an amazing number of pushchairs which frequently managed to get under my feet. At the end a gate lead to a ferry advertised as the “shortest ferry ride in the world” (which I dispute) which crossed the harbour entrance, about 50m.

We then headed for Quimper (pronounced “Kampair”) where we found traffic chaos, as the road through the centre of town was closed and what we assumed was a viable diversion lead into a dead end morass of one way streets.Whilst in the traffic jam ( more like cement than jam from the way it moved) we heard a siren and sure enough 2 French police on motor bike charged through the closely packed cars, trucks, van etc gesturing for all to move to one side. Where is one side we speculated? Stephen gamely moved up onto the footpath as did some other vehicles near us, while other cars stubbornly stayed where they were.Eventually the scream of the French siren 'woo hooing' drew closer and a fire engine crawled down the narrow pathway cleared in the centre of the road – so close we could easily have touched it! We eventually crept out of the dense traffic concrete into heavy slow moving traffic and drove around the old city walls. We spent a lot of time searching but we didn't manage to find a park and decided to call it quits, heading home for a lamb chop dinner.

29 July

OK – an official rest day. We went mid morning to Rostrennan – which is another lovely Breton village north of St Brendan. We heard it was a big market that day and we were not disappointed. It wound through the streets in the centre of a lovely old town. Even though stalls lined the footpaths and roadsides cars still traveled – carefully it must be said – through the stalls and milling people. Unlike the market in the southern areas of France we have visited this had its own flavour. Many vans are equipped with fridges, freezers and set out just like butchers and fish shops. You can see how they fold up when it is time to move out. Having said that some sea food stalls have a large variety of sea food ( some we have no notion as to what they are) not a scrap of ice to be seen as flies buzz around small muscle shells and large oyster shells. Cheese and goat cheese are sold under cover of plastic display cases so there are fewer flies present. We bought up some local produce.

Having eyed dried up looking sausages, flecked with what looks like flour, ever since we arrived in France, we capitulate. Talking with a very nice lady who manages some English we try several of her varieties, goat, donkey??? ( 'Mais non ' I cry – she grimaces) garlic, mushroom, bull, chorizo we settle for mushroom. These all have been picked over by hand by many people I note... wondering how to eliminate nasty 'other people' germs before we eat it... matter still under review as sausage in question sits in the fidge wrapped in its waxy Breton paper.

Next purchase are aubergine, an artichoke – one very keen Stephen has promised to consult our new cook books and deal with this fearsome object. I love preserved artichoke hearts but quail at the sight of the raw material. A lovely punnet of local berries is next. We discover these to be a mix of flavours, some we hadn't encountered before – they even include blackberries! Oh Joy!

Moving on through the rich array of food and clothing, accessories I fall for an item for Stephanie. I also avoid the sellers keen offers of other items that I could wear when he realises my purchase was for my daughter - Stephen should be proud of how much better I am getting at walking away ' au revoiring, bon journeeing, and mercing” as I make my exit. A fish purchase followed from a nice clean looking refrigerated van. I have no idea what we have bought but the flesh looks enough like the Monk Fish recipe I am following tonight to be worth the risk . However... as we waited in line to be served – this by the way is a good sign i.e. people queuing to wait to be served shows it is a sort after stall and produce – I did note the no gloves, hands on fingering of the fillets by the fish monger as the purchaser ahead of us made her decision. Conversation seemed to go comme ca.” does this one suit Madame?” “Non – the one underneath,s'il vous plait – mais non the one to the right – Oui merci madame...” Then it is our turn. We selected, we accepted first fillet show cased and GB notes to self to wash her fish before cooking. Racoons have a lot to teach us.

Finally – after GB tried on 3 tops and rejected them while Stephen talked to the owner of the stall about how learning English means your children can travel and work over seas – OK lesson number one for daughter in question. Antipodeans don't enjoy being invaded by young slim French things, eager to be helpful and to find more items for trying on, when they are in their underwear- bulges bulging while wrestling tops off over head. I retreat.

In the midst of our wandering we find a table groaning under a range of familiar looking products. As we cogitate a very English voice greets us and we have a cool conversation about her and her stall. She has for the last 4 years been operating in markets and on line selling English groceries that are not avialable in France. We have realised quite quickly that there are a lot more English here than elsewhere we have visited. Some are tourists and many more own houses in Brittany. She says that she actually sells more products to the French than to the Brits. She recounted a conversation she had at her stall one day with a very elderly, very short couple( Bretons traditionally are short apparently – not the young though! Improved diet?). The elderly lady quizzed our stall holder in depth about her Mars bars. Were they truly English, really truly English and not a French Mars bar masquerading under a false English wrapper. Having finally convinced the lady that her Mars bar was the real McCoy our stall holder asked why it was so important that the bar was British. “ Because the French ones are bl**dy awful” came the reply! Lovely interlude. We came away with her card as she will do some research on what buck wheat is and email us her findings.

Final purchases are stuffed tomato and vol au vent stuffed with mushrooms and delicate cheese sauce. We email off spring rapidly from Tourist Office on annoying French key board and return to Gite in paradise to wolf goodies and then blob out in the sun. Despite lovely hot sun for 2 hours tan is still fading annoyingly. Another run into Langonnet for supplies and then more blobbing and blogging time.

30 July

We decided to check on the habits of our ancestors and visited Carnac, a town with a 4km stretch of megaliths (standing stones) scattered over the landscape in rows. The arrays of stones are impressive, but frustrating as no-one knows how they were put there or why.

On our tour of the “alignementes” we passed the beaches of Concarneau which again had a huge stretch of sand between the high water mark and the water and were told that the smallest beach “was popular with the English” - it was virtually empty. Around the corner was a bay that was completely dry with numbers of people walking across the flats – apparently a well known area for shellfish.

We moved on to Auray and walked down to the port where we had mackerel fillets for lunch.Above the port there are old houses and shops, the access to the port is steep and we were glad of modern paving as the traditional paving stones are rounded, shiny and set at odd angles. Not easy to walk on wearing summer footwear. The port is on the upper reach of an inlet and used to be a major port – Benjamin Franklin landed here on his way to arrange a treaty with France during the American war of independence (I suspect this was the only historic event of note).The quay is maned the Franklin Quay. The shops and restaurants are situated in the village square and along the quay on the ground floor of beautiful half timbered houses.The next floor of these buildings look as if they could topple over in the next strong gale! Some are well maintained, others less so but all delightfully uneven with crazy angles. Along the quay are the gracious homes of the sea faring captains of old. As we sat and viewed the harbour while eating lunch we mused over the way the port would have looked when sailing ships anchored in this tiny harbour to discharge and load good and passengers. It is very pretty now with port one side and grassed, tree lined park. and picnic area on the other side. I suspect in the late 18^th centuary it would have been a busy, often smelly and less groomed settlement.

Wanting to see more of the Gulf de Morbihan, a large inlet with a very narrow entrance with strong tidal currents, we drove to Larmor Baden. On the way we saw signs to a tumulus and a dolmen – the tumulus appeared to be a small scrubby hillock and we didn't stop, but we managed to find the dolmen – about 6000 years old and covering about 300 sq m. Larmor Baden is a small coastal port/town with mud flats and oyster farms. There is an island with a cause way across – this causeway was covered with a greenish growth, probably some variety of sea weed. The causeway is covered at high tide so you wouldn't want to be on the causeway when the tide turns. We read there is a strong, often violent current.

31 July

A day lazing around the gite.

1 August

We had read that the town of Pontivy was an interesting mix of old and new. The old town clustered under the chateau was full of half timber houses on narrow curved streets while the new section was planned during the empire period and is regimented straight roads at right angles. We followed a trail set out by the tourist office with points of interest ending at the chateau, which was a military defensive castle, but it is now closed as part of the massive southern curtain wall has collapsed.
The name Pontivy comes from the priest from Britain named Pont Ivy who built the first church  there around about 600 AD - hence the name. As Pontivy was quick to give their alliance to Napoleon I the benefited from his largesse.He built a new town along side the old and built the canal  which made for quick movement for trade and soldiers from Brest to Nantes. The canal has locks and weirs - still operating today. You can hire a long boat and go for a lazy trip down the river if you wish. Stephen says the French long boats are bigger affairs than those in the UK. Back to napoleon. The residents of Pontivy had been struggling with the flooding tendencies of the Blavet for centuries and had tried to deal with these issues unsuccessfully.  The citizens of Pontivy petitioned to have their town renamed  Napoleonville. It remained so called until Napoleon was finally defeated at the battle of Waterlooo. Inevitably the good folk of Pontivy felt they wanted their original city name back! 

We then headed south to Quelven and found a huge “chapel” in the middle of a cluster of substantial but ancient houses, even though our GPS didn't know of the village. The chapel is impressive, in excellent shape and has an outdoor chapel reached by and flanked by curved stone staircases(loggia) for when the congregation exceeds the 1000 or so capacity of the church :)There are 2 altars in the chapel. Upstairs the altar has effigies of Christ with bound wrists and  priestly figures on either side of him.The tiny underneath the chapel also has an altar. Under this altar lies a very worn effigy of Christ clad in loin cloth only in reposeon top of a tomb.

In the main chapel the main point of interest  is a statue of Mary and infant Jesus which can be opened to display paintings of biblical scenes. In one apse there was a model of a sailing ship which is obviously used in processions as it has carrying handles, but we didn't find the significance.
GB was intrigued by the tableau at the rear of the church 's nave. There is St George on his horse with his very long spear / lance thrusting it manfully into the jaws of a modestly built dragons open jaws. behind St George is the rescued lady in questions feeling very relieved.

Moving on we came to St Nicholas des Eaux on the bank of the river Le Blavet where we decided to have lunch – the first place we tried was closed for food and the second said the cook had left, but the owner would rustle up something for us and we had excellent salmon dishes.

A few peeps of the Nantes-Brest canal (much less impressive than the Canal du Midi, but gaining much more altitude) and headed home to the gite.

2 August
 We did the usual clean up of the gite  - just as we were finishing a delightful English woman came bearing a bundle of clean linen for the next guests. She says the owners have this Gite rented for every week of the year mostly. Nice little earner! Actually they are putting their own house and the cottage on the market as they want to consolidate their position back in the UK. When she said the price was 30,000 euro Stpehen's eyes stared to twinkle - converted to NZ $s that is around 70,000 and they earn 500 ($1,000 ) a week! However when we realised where we love the bubble burst!

We had a lovely chat with the caretaker - they are the guardians of a mansion in the district. They love France and prefer it to UK. her words were , " Britain is not a nice place to live anymore. We all are leaving to live in France"poor Britain. We still love you.

We traveled onto Josselin which is a lovely town. The city centre is picturesque with medieveal houses - some still with the original porch house held up by pillars. These jutted out about 6 feet and provided shelter from the elements for goods stored below. Often there were several of these built in a row which meant a covered alley way for shoppers! The houses now are mostly shops of course at ground level - housing remains on the first floor of what are sometimes sitting at  alarming angles.

We visited the lovely Chapel de Notre Dame. The organist was practicing and the music flooded the building. What a lovely gift to sit and listen to such beautiful music in such a beautiful building. There were the usual statues and stations of the cross. There was also a double tomb where one Lord Olivier de Clisson and his wife Marguerite Rohan are interred. Their effigies lie side by side in perfect condition.Given that they died in the 16th century their condition ( of the effigies that is!) is remarkable.

We carried on wandering the streets taking in the ambiance and doing our usual admiring of all the produce in the markets . Yes - again we managed to score  a market day. There were a few showers of rain ( our first since Bari in Italy) but the sun won out and so we wandered buying goodies to eat and munch on there and then. I am particularly keen to try the goat cheese we bought. Not packaged in a small cylindrical shape this time  but  from a round.  The sliver we tasted has a stronger taste than the other goat cheese we have eaten. I will stuff peppers with this for my second try. The last one just lacked the small bite the feta cheese has.

During our tour of the market we inquired about some dried fruit for sale. the young woman in the jewelry stall next door came to our rescue as the stall holder had little English and we couldn't grasp his fast French. She asked us if we were NZers! Of course - how did she know? She is actually British but has lived for some time in France. She visited NZ with her then partner. After the birth of her daughter and 6 months trying to live in the Manawatu with said partner / sheep farmer she ran for home to be with her dying father. this was not the 'right' way for a sheep farmer's partner to behave said our kiwi chap. She then moved to France and loves it. She said life in the UK is not good ( second person saying this in one day?) and not a good place to bring up her daughter. She listed variables like drug abuse, pregnancy in children as young a 9 years old, problems related to immigrants reluctant to assimilate, unfriendliness of people in general ( our caretaker lady mentioned the same thing). Although it has taken her 7 years  to sort of come to grips with French Bureaucracy she would never take her little 4 year old girl back to UK. Sobering thoughts - we are genuinely surprised. After our year in Britain we have honey colour memories of the country and the people. Maybe we were incredibly lucky. I di think that living in a small village and working in a smaller centres would have something to do with it. Also - times change.     

We then walked to the chateau. This is  a beautiful building in beautifully tended grounds. Its towers have witch's hats turrets - as do all Breton castles and many others of their buildings.This is  also a Dukes of Rohan creation. They were the ruling family in Brittany for hundreds of years and the chateau is still lived in by members of the Rohan family today. The Rohans initially built a castle here beside the river Oust in the 1008. In  Henry II ( of England and Duke of Anjou) and his son, Geoffry, pulled Josselin Castle down in 1168 and 1175. Henry II himself led the demolition and sowed salt into the ruins.This was in retribution against n 1154, Odo, Viscount of Porhoet, Although Odo was , step-father, guardian and regent of the young Conan IV Duke of Brittany he collected the Breton lords to deprive Conan of his inheritance. He was  defeated by Henry VII , whose protection Conan had sought. Henry married his fourth son, Geoffrey to Conan's only child,Constance Duchesses of Brittany. It was built again by the Rohan family. they were certainly an influential family and had input into many of the chateau in Brittany. Their blason consists of 9 yellow empty lozenges ( diamonds with yellow  outlines and each has a smaller diamond inside coloured a deep red). These lozenges sit on a red shield of the same colour as the interior diamonds.

We calculated time and distance to our northern Brittany Gite and decided that, as we still wanted to see Foret do Paimpont we should fore go the guided tour of the castle in an hour's time.

We then traveled ( gyrated more like a high speed, down narrow French roads meeting on coming French drivers going the same speed! Rrrrr!  this is the legendary place where King Arthur received the Excalibur sword and where Vivianne turned her enemy Merlin into a stone! The town of Paimpont is very pretty - we sought out the tourist office - and went to the "Valley of no return" . After a short walk you come into the very pretty forest. The trees are very leafy and meet high overhead, filtering the light to greenish tones.  Actually the forest is like many in South Brittany we have seen but it was fun to imagine as it the setting for enchanted business!
Time beckoned so after a short encounter with the forest we headed back to the car and en avant to Northern Brittany.

Our gite is part of an accommodation complex. Gite du Domaine de Grenier in the commune of Yffiniac. It was a working farm for many hundreds of years. The buildings still stand but renovation has been extensive but retain the original features. The farm house is now accommodation for Bed and Breakfast. The surrounding farm buildings have been converted into little houses - one and 2 bedrooms. The windows are large and ours has huge sliding doors onto a  a pretty  paved patio. There is a small marquee behind our building and a hard stand where they hold a weekly evening for guests to chat and comapre travel tips. Children also get to meet and greet and this is cool as they can hang out on the pretty play ground. A spa is on offer but no pool - I am yearning to swim again.
Waiting for us in this lovely apartment was a tray of home grown garden produce and a bottle of local cider.  How lovely. I used the carrots, spring onions  and  market potatoesin a spup for our dinner. The gas stove top is a horror but Stephen came  my rescue - as always. After a few kind words he decided two of the elements were useable!

3 August
It is Sunday today so after skyping  Steph and Aaron and Chris and Sheeka we went to nearby town of  Quessory to grab makings for dinner and we drove around looking at our current locale. Still plenty of fields being cropped and harvested, large stands of forest in amongst the field - quite flat land and several small hamlets without shps.

Into Brittany

26 July

After cleaning the gite we were just leaving when Olivier arrived to say farewell. When we returned after going to Montresor for dinner last night ( another gastronomic delight)we found they had left us a bottle of red wine as a parting gift on the outside window sill. I was able to extend to him our grateful thanks for the wine and our lovely rustic stay. I finally learnt my canine friend's name – Garouf .

We went for the last time down the gorgeous narrow tree lined route and headed off to Langeais, a chateau on our route to Brittany which is said to be the most “mediaeval” of the Loire chateaux. The visit started with an entry over a rickety drawbridge which would be of little use to traffic as it is 20 feet above street level. The town side of the building is well defended with high ramparts with plenty of opportunities for the defenders to be nasty to any attackers. However once through the gate we found the other side of the main building with little protection and lots of doors. The main building was erected in the 15^th century with 4 floors above the courtyard and arranged in an L plan. The rooms, as they are arranged now, are all of an impressive size and even the spiral staircases are wide enough for easy passage, unlike many we have visited. Generally the furnishings date from the 15^th and 16^th centuries and consist of tapestries and variations of chests. Interestingly there were no tables at that time, even the banquet room used planks on trestles that could easily be stored when the room was used for other purposes.Seeing the changes in the mediaeval furniture and construction is the evolution in increasing skills and technology is clearly apparent. Having said that we fell in love with the extraordinary tapisteries. 

One incident makes me smile. I had just moved into one of the last rooms where there was a display of some sort ( not sure what now) when I dropped my walking stick. I take this only when I know I will need to climb ancient uneven steps and descend same. Within seconds a man whom we had seen as we did the rounds of the castle lept forward. Rescuing my errant stick he passed it to me, one leg extended and bent at the knee, bowing from the waist as he said' Madame” . Stunned I think I replied 'Merci beaucoup' omitting the 'Monsieur' that should accompany such an exchange! The gentle man in question was tall, rangy in build , dressed in what we think of typical French peasant style; cream coloured baggy, shapeless canvas type trousers, equally shapeless canvas looking tunic top, closely cropped beard and cunning French cap with peak at the front.

Moving on we discovered that the French motorway system cannot cope with a Saturday afternoon traffic in the school holidays. We lost over an hour sitting in virtually stationary traffic, particularly at toll booths.( thanks God for a patient husband and my kindle!) As we moved into Brittany the landscape became more rugged and the road was largely fringed with a band of trees so that we did not get a good look at the countryside. In general the fields are often irregular with stands of trees.

Our GPS did not recognise our destination, so we headed for the nearest town and by luck saw a sign that mentioned St Brendan. A dive down a narrow track past settlements each consisting of 1 or 2 houses brought us to our destination – a one room cottage with a mezzanine bedroom in a hamlet of 6 houses and a 15^th century chapel.This gite is gorgeous. An old cottage which in was built in the 16^th century and has stood on the land in much the same form as now. In the 1930s and 40s a family of six lived in the one roomed cottage 4 m x 4 meters. Small out houses are attached and housed the animals. There is a stone beside the front door with 1948 carved into it – the year the door was widened so the family cow could enter! Imagine having the animals you own in out houses that are reached via your cottage!

The couple ( Brits) who own the cottage now have extensively renovated it and it is a modern dwelling now , with all mod cons and very light and airy. The stairs ( not a staircase I swear) to the mezzanine floor are interesting , especially as you come down groggy with sleep in the night – pitch back - to visit the loo! I now leave a light on in the small bathroom to ensure I don't tumble down the stairs and break my neck or worse my legs! The small kitchen has an induction hob – very amusing to watch as a birds eyes view ( or rather in our case a fly's eye view, they are here to make us welcome in their droves – still not too keen on death fly fly spray) as we work out how to use it. We might finally have got it now. It all depends of the flick of a finger and the pressure of the finger tip on the designated spot of the cook top. It also 'burrs' on and off as the element works – I guess you would get used to that in time. However the speed of the heat is amazing.

27 July

We decided to tour the local area, so headed off to l'Abbeye de Langonnet which proved to be very close. An impressive block of buildings and a range of educational institutions.The abbey is in use The site now is accommodation and home to 40 retired missionaries. I (GB) inferred that the missionary work may have been in Africa as we saw several African nuns preparing the abbey for its next service and amongst the folk gathering outside there were a number of African people mingling with other French guests.There was obviously a local event in progress with marquees erected and many smartly dressed people in view, so we looked around the church, poked our noses into the cloisters and moved on to Gourin, a local town.

On the outskirts of Gourin we saw a sign advertising the Festival de la Crepe at the local chateau. First we stopped in the centre of town, which had a more modern look than many with several buildings brightly painted and had a town square containing a war memorial and a copy of the Statue of Liberty to mark the towns links with New York.

Heading to the chateau we heard the sound of bagpipes and found the festival underway. There were a few stalls selling products from jam to jewellery, a tent with a crepe making competition which seemed to be based around making a very large crepe (900mm) perfectly, a tent with a perspiring man making sausage and onion crepes on 2 wood fired stoves (one for the crepes and one for the sausages and onions), a large food marquee and a stage with a large dance floor in front of it. We found the food tent was lined with 40 or so crepe makers flat out. 2/3 were savoury crepes of 2 types with the filling options ham, cheese and egg, and the other 1/3 were sweet crepe. All crepes were made on gas fired flat round plates and would take only a minute to make before being coated with the chosen filling and folded into a neat square. The various crepe makers seemed to vary in the matter recipe and thickness, but we didn't make much sense of the differences.

Once we had loaded up with crepes and a bottle of cidre we sat on steps in front of the stage and watched a display of dancing by a very polished troupe who appeared to mix the traditional breton dancing with more modern styles. Their choreography was precise and the stage management was unobtrusive and very effective. With some dances in traditional costume and others in styles ranging over the last 50 years, the dances varied from line, circle and couple forms and used small screens to cleverly hide dancers or change styles. At times the dance floor would only contain 1 or 2 dancers and then the rest of the troupe would appear from nowhere to fill the floor. The use of simple props to add to the dance was impressive, particularly when 2 strings of pennant showing upper and lower clothing items were held across the floor and the dancers coordinated with effective variations in costume. In fact the clothing was obviously an important part of the act with traditional clothing mixed with modern styles. The music was provided by a band with 2 pipers, a saxophone and a wind instrument with a high and strident sound that we couldn't identify as well as a guitar, bass and drums.

Later a band with 2 women singers took the stage and a large number of the audience danced on the stage, mainly in a simple circle dance with rapid stepping then a side step moving the dancers slowly round the floor. In another dance the arms were swung back and forth. It was good to see audience participation like this with small children amongst the dancers.Every so often the music and 2 women singers stopped and the dancers continued their dance – the sound of their feet moving in unison was quite eerie. In fact, seeing really elderly folk participating aided by relatives of all ages, seeing middle aged couples, young families ( not too many 20year olds on the dance floor!) and children and even toddlers participating made me feel quite envious. These folk have preserved their traditions through all they have lived through – war, occupation by enemy forces, poverty, diaspora of their young to cities and America in search of quality of living. Despite all this they have a sense of shared culture and belonging. In Gourin the daughter of one of the residents in our village teaches Breton.The road signs are in Breton and French. Although the first unification of Brittany with France occurred around 1492 this is an area which seems to have its own identity still. GB noted the similarities to Irish dancing and in some of the music. Also noted was the style of Breton singing that accompanied the people's dancing. The first vocalist sings a verse this is picked up and echoed by the second, more alto singer – and so it goes through out the song. We heard the same thing performed on Tuesday by men performing Breton music in Concarneau. There is a Celtic festival underway all across Brittany currently where the Irish, Scots, Guernsey Isles and Bretons participate.

We moved on to Le Fauoet, the largest town in the area, stopped to look at a large covered market of some age and, some way out in the country a 15^th century chapel dedicated to St Barbe, the patron saint of firemen, soldiers and artillerymen, who was apparently beheaded by her father in 238AD in Turkey after converting to christianity, her father then was struck dead immediately by lightning. The chapel is set in the bottom of a steep valley where the local lord survived a severe thunder storm while hunting in the forest and consequently built the chapel in gratitude. The chapel itself is a high gothic building with the altar in the middle of one wall with big stained glass windows above and to each side. Since it is set low against a cliff you cannot see it until you are immediately above it and it is approached by 2 fancy stone staircases..

After a quick look at the lake at Priziac which is a local water sport attraction with weedy shores and brownish, brackish water and an artificial beach full of happy campers we headed home to St Brendan.

More Loire

22 July

As we ate breakfast the family pony put his head inside the top half of the stable door. Very cute, very plump, a golden brown colour. 'Sorry old chap , you are plump enough' was our response when it was clear he would prefer food to our patting. He hung in for awhile and with a final snort returned to 'mowing' the grass around our cottage.

Today we spent a lot of the day at ZooParc Beauval, a very large private zoo near Saint-Aignan. After recovering from the entry fee of 19 Euro each ($NZ80 total for the 2 of us) we found the zoo to be more than could be taken in in 1 day.

The zoo is spread over 22 hectares and has more than 4,000 species, apparently many of them exotic to Europe. While they have a large Australian pavilion (we didn't bother going there), there was only 1 NZ exhibit we saw, a kea, who was not cooperating and didn't appear while we were around the cage.

The largest areas we saw were the monkeys and apes who had extensive climbing areas and the “African savannah” with white rhinos, gazelle, wilderbeest and giraffes and something called antlered horse??. In general the enclosures were of a good size, but we felt the lions and tigers looked a litle restricted. Seeing white tigers was exciting – one was pacing short areas though and I felt (GB) that this looked like a stressed fellow. The other white tiger was in a larger enclosure and seemed relaxed snoozing in the sun. Apparently these are not a different species but the white fur is due to mutation in pigmentation. There were also Sumatran tigers. There were white lions also – as well as the African variety – one African lion mother had 2 cubs which were delightful in their frisking, rolling and gambling play. One cub got quite close to the fencing and was persuaded, shepherded and finally picked up by the scruff of it's neck and removed from the threat of goggling humans. She then herded both cubs down hill and out of sight. Prior to the cubs arrival she had spent sometime checking us out via 2 fences with steely eyed appraisal. You could feel her sizing up the situation.

After an hour wandering we moved to the Californian sealion area where we could sit down and watched an exhibition showcasing the sealions. As usual they were entertaining and balanced balls and waved when required. The most notable act was when the largest leapt onto the wall surrounding the pool and shuffled along the length of it - the other side of the wall was the public area and the people standing close were in for a nasty shock if he had slipped!  As it was the folks close up got a few splashes in their faces.

There was large variety of ape and monkeys – chimpanzees, orangatangs, gorillas, ring tailed lemurs as well as a variety of other members of the cat family – jaguars, leopards, panthers etc as well as a fishing cat – who catch fish,love to swim, have slightly webbed paws to assist in moving ariund the marshes and swamps they live in. We saw one other species of cat that looks like an overgrown domestic tabby cat – I can't remember its name. 

After a while we decided to head for the exit, but realised that the prime exhibit, a giant panda, was in a section we hadn't been near, so we headed over there to see the back of the panda who was sprawled face down on a log runway. Truly 'flat out!” I heard ( GB) people 'oh yucking' – checking out the source saw this huge blob of flat fur relieving itself while sound asleep!

This was the most amazing day. We saw penguins ( through underwater viewing window) cavorting in ways we have not seen before ( swimming sideways with uppermost flipper breaking the surface of the water then twirling around to do the same with the other flipper.) There were penguins of differing breeds – one large brown penguin waddled atop of a rock and spent time roaring loudly for us and his mates to hear. 

We also saw a territorial debate involving 2-3 individual apes in the monkey aviaries( light brown , fairly furry and tailless, we couldn't find a sign with their identity) screaming, chattering, posturing racing and chasing each other around the high climbing frames while the smaller and younger apes went about doing what apes do! 

In the tropical house there were a large variety of species, many of whom we did not know. There was, once again, a couple of turtles making babies ( not much else for them to do was Stephen's opinion) – well that is what the turtle chap had on his mind. She however was not inclined and turned a steady 360 degrees in the hope he would get dizzy and fall off I suspect before he reached his goal!

I hadn't seen a live porcupine either – these guys were eating and what a lot of grunting, gnawing noises they make – the original noisy eaters!

There are just so many different animals that I can't recall them all – however it was a journey of discovery. The enclosures are clean, free of odure, the animals appear healthy and well fed. The zoo grounds are spacious and there is a lot of shade for animals and humans alike.

Back to our gamekeeper's cottage for dinner – hairy brown dog loped up and rested his head and paws on the lower stable door again – 'What's for dinner?' his amber eyes were eloquent.After an exchange of pleasantries he gave us up again as a poor option. He had come to see us a couple of mornings ago, hoping for entry. I suspect he may well save his energy until the next guest arrive!

23 July

On the advice of our host we visited Montresor, a smaller chateau which is left in the condition it was in the late 19^th cantury. The chateau is built on a rock near the Indois river in the middle of a small town. The original structure was a defensive structure built by the Count of Anjou, in 1005 and some of the original outer walls remain. Then came long Foulques Nerra in the 16^th Century who added to it. He was the grate ...etc grandfather of Diane de Poitiers and the first of the plantagenets. The current building was erected in the early 15^th century, but substantially changed around 1850 when a wealthy Polish count, Xavier Branicki, bought the estate and restored the chateau in the romantic style. He filled it with his hunting trophies and art works. The chateau is now in the condition he let it with his furniture and decorations intact.

What an amazing step back in time – we wandered from room to room amazed by all we saw- the circular Italian staircase that he bought in an auction in Paris, made of mahogany with brass fittings, was particularly appealing to Stephen. I was equally wowed by the original paintings of people including Napolean and the young King of Rome as well as paintings of the Branicki family going about daily life as well as portraits – there were marble busts as well. We both agreed that the sheer quantity of the high end art work was impressive The walls still were covered in fabric wall paper. The furniture was incredible and defeat my descriptive efforts. The fireplaces and chimneys were huge and ornate and gilded in several cases.

Stephen's comment that this 3 story building felt accessible as a house to live in – there were basements also of course where the kitchens would have been. In the dining room there was a table that, when extended, would seat 40 people and covered the floor from the windows of thee north to south side – covering the width of the ground floor. We have noted in other Chateau the dark stair cases that lead to the kitchens – often with a tight bend in them and commiserated with servants hurrying up and down these with plates and bowls of hot food, not to mention wine glasses and wine bottles. This was not the lot of servants in this chateau. In the dining room there is a 'hoist' – dumb waiter! How much easier for the servants!

Throughout our ramblings we were aware of how few fellow tourists there were. Lovely to feel we were almost on our own in this atmospheric chateau.

The gardens outside are lovely , we went around the walls, the old keep with magnificent views of the town and the forests beyond where the family and guests of the family hunted. As an aside there were wolves in the forest until 100 years ago. Sadly there are 2 mounted heads of very young white wolves in the entrance hall.

In the garden there are statues in the garden, one of which is memorial to a young man who fought with Xavier Branicki and who died in his arms. Very touching when you look at it in context.

After drinking our fill of this very lovely site we ventured out into the town of Montresor. Every step almost elicited an 'oh my gosh – look at that!” It is a small town laid out on a Medieval street plan ( higgildy de piggildy) around and under the walls of the chateau. The houses and shops are quaint, stone and plaster, remarkably clean, with a white glow in the sun.

Then – we saw the beautiful church – in we went to see the interior. It is still, peaceful and full of a sense of the ages of folk worshiping here – bringing their lives and trials and fortunes to their higher power. It is a beautiful church and at the back are the tombs and 'figures en repose' of... who owned the chateau in 1500.......... alongside his wife and son who was adolescent by the look of his 'figure'.

We drove closer to the Indrois and looked at the river meadows -lush green grass that horses were grazing on and flicking at the always present flies here with the forest bordering them.Another aside – these flies don't know they are supposed to die when they breathe fly spray!They also have no idea that when flicked at by human hand or horse tail that the decent thing to do is to fly away!

Still another aside – the forests we drive through to go to these towns are beautiful. The roads are 1½ cars wide and the forest meets over head as we drive down them. The trees are spaced widely by our NZ bush characteristics and the forest floor covered in low growing green verbiage. Most trees have some form of growth climbing their trunks but this seems to be a symbiotic arrangement. Our hostess says that as she rides through the forests she often sees deer – in summer they are to be seem lying down and completely unconcerned about her and her horses appearance.

Back to the day. We had a gorgeous lunch at a local bar – restaurant and have booked to return tomorrow night to have dinner. We ate in the shadow of the chateau walls, drinking a white Chinon sauvignon blanc watching the people go by.

Back into our trusty Peugeot and on to the next recommended town of Valency. We looked at the exterior of the Chateau – much larger than Montresor. It had 2 wings in an L shape and the inner part of the first wing was covered, obviously undergoing renovation. This Chateau, unlike Montresor, was used for state occasions and the King of Spain was held prisoner there for 6 years. The extensive grounds were immaculate and beautifully laid out. We decided that instead of going through this huge establishment we would go in search of the best ice cream in France ( another hostess tip off!). As luck would have it the shop was closed as we went into another shop for wine tasting – I scored a nice bottle of white and then we went to the local Intermarche. Oh joy! There were the long desired and much searched for clips to hold the table cloth on when dining outside! Stephen and I prowled this site – our first Intermarche. We know the Carrefour chain, the Super U chain and the Lidl chain! The Intermarche has different range of goodies – more drooling over fish ( varieties unknown and unavailable to we kiwis at home), cuts of meat decorated with plastic roses and flowers, delicatessen meats, more cheeses etc not to mention the hardware! Rather like what the Warehouse tried to do in Auckland.

The next day we were to talk to an English couple who told us that Valency is one town which doesn't close down in winter – they like to come there to the restaurants and cafes.

Back to our back water to make dinner. This time down roads hardly wide enough for one car. On our trip to Montresor and back we met many agricultural harvesting related vehicles that took up all the road – hence some sweaty palm moments as Stephen tried to edge as far over as he could without ending up in the ditch that runs beside every road and lane!

When back I made the best quiche I have ever made – the crust of the quiche was so light and the filling light and fluffy! No egg beater here, as recipe recommended , so I am feeling less of a culinary failure now!

Right – dinner over. Hours of daylight left – night falls around 11pm and dawn around 5am – so Stephen loads me into the car to return to the pond where he saw ears and a couple of eyes breaking the surface as the animal below was swimming. Maybe a beaver! We are still not over our not “a beaver watching” experience near Florac!

As we moved off our hostess appeared – she had just bought a new horse to join her heard and was watching the hierarchy establishment – making sure the new girl didn't get into too much trouble. Oh no! It wouldn't be a beaver she said( yes – of course. I remembered now that beavers live in running water) It's probably a nice big water rat! After more information gathered we went anyway – GB protesting that she wasn't interested an old rat. At the pond we were entertained by a loud exchange of what sounded like bird screeching from the weeds, Maybe frogs? Stephen wondered. There were ripples in the lake, no ears or eyes appeared this time – too far away Stephen said to get a good view. Maybe fish I venture -anything is possible except a beaver we agreed.

We asked about the industrial complex located in the woods about a kilometre away from us and labelled Storenergy. Apparently it stores natural gas underground at a depth of 1.5km. From interest's sake I will find out more when we have an internet connection.

24 July:

Oh joy again. On our way to Montrichard today we saw a little faun on the road edge, right beside the forest. It was a lovely deep reddish brown and darted straight back undercover as soon as it was aware of us. What a lovely way to start the day's adventures. Today has been really hot. Like the mad dogs and English men we ventured forth at 11am to explore the town. It was around 32 degrees and got hotter as our explorations continued. First was a tour of the town – many half timbered shops and houses – not so typical we have noticed. Then we climbed up to the Don Jon (keep) of the ruined chateau. Within this area we then spent at least 2 hours in a fascinating exploration of the history of Montrichard and surrounds. Well before Foulques Nerra put his stamp on the site, as part of his defensive ring of fortresses to deter his enemy of Anjou, this had been a home to early celts who were druids. There is a lovely legend about an oak tree with a carving of Mary and the holy child which was moved to another site and 3 times it restored itself to its original position.  In the end a young Christian arrived on his horse and taking the veil from the carving single handedly lassooed the mysterious creature form the river who had a habit of devouring the villagers he dragged it to the carving of the Madonna where it expired – never to reappear! Thus Christianity began in Montrichard. This is recounted in the musee we visited. There is a replica of the carving.

There is also evidence of Roman habitation 1 – 3 century BC and there were glazed drainage channels left behind. There is also remains of a large local Roman villa.There were sarcophogus – 3 adult, one shorter and 2 children sized. In one the skeleton was lying dustily – 2 skeletons were suspended from the cave wall ( these guys have a willingness to hang up the remains of the dead. I am still recovering from seeing a whole Polish wolf in the dining room yesterday in Montresor – black tongue lolling lifelessly out of its mouth, not to mention; deer, owls, eagles, wild cats etc!) Not sure whose skeletons they were but the sarcophogi were heavy duty and made of local tufa.

On we went – the musee gave a good overview of the history of the site – outlining what happened and to whom after Foulque Nerra arrived on the scene. He built a Chappele – Sainte Croix – below the keep which has had to be restored several times – not least being the occasion that the Royal quarters fell onto it! Foulque Nerra went on 4 crusades to atone for his sins? ( how does killing the infidels atone for sins? I don't compute this at all!). All too much to retain so we took photos of our guide in the hope we can reread and refresh. Really fascinating stuff and just reminds us of how interlinked ll the European countries are. Mary Stuart's young first husband Franscois I turned up in the geneology of the chateau.

There were also wax figures showing the life style of the peasants and middle classes around 1880 back to medieval times. Interesting furniture and artifacts and clothing – in the 1100s women's clothing was heavy and back – white was for mourning in France then. Very detailed – frills and flounces abounded but very somber.

We visited the other musee – one very interesting about the Paleontologie of the area – what a huge variety of fossils there are in the area and the sea life was extensive.There were of course ammonites and the the coral formations were extensive.

Moving along we went down the next set of creaking and groaning spiral stairs to see the Prehistoric section. It is hard to describe this. As we all know the search to find the 'origin of man' is ongoing, complex, fraught with disagreement and challenges. However – going from evidence of the craniums on display there is a wonderful progression seen in the change of shape in the size and shape of the skull to house an evolving brain in the various species. The increasingly specialised functions of said brains evidently have made demands on cranial space to accommodate various lobes. Equally obvious are the changes in diet reflected in the shape and size of the jaw and on the teeth . Also obvious are the nasal cavity modifications and cheek bones – all reflecting a different life style and requirements placed on these structure. I have not seen exhibits placed so close together where the comparisons are so clear. 

Our final stop in the walls of the chateau were to a reconstruction of how mills worked – even with an example from Pompeii to show how they evolved. A working model mill showed the last 200- 300 years of wind milling.

Back up top again we made our ascent – in the heat!- to just below the chateau as it was built in the 13^th century. Having trudged up to this point it would have been another huge hike up to the entrance. This was a 'no go' area as it was in various stages of disrepair but the original shape and design were clear. This is the only medieval chateau in the Loire – the rest have at the very least renaissance renovations and often more recent than that.

The view at this height was superb across the river flats and town and villages.

Leaving the chateau we went into the Chapelle that was built for the chateau – the royal living quarters in the chateau had fallen down onto this Chapelle and it had been repaired. This is another atmospheric place of worship. There is a lovely 'statue' hanging on the wall before entering the sanctuary of Jean d'Arc and on the left side of the sculpture the words “ merci Sainte Jeanne d'Arc “ and on her right the words “merci”. How simple, how explicit – I was moved by the significance in those few words.

By the time we arrived back in the town (3.30pm) people were awake again, shops open so we wandered to the local Tourist bearau (Stephen to get maps of locale Vin Caves ) and then to wine taste ( One bottle of local blanc) and then to a swanky Cave – my mouse (Monmousseau) as Stephen calls it. I decided I had enough vin in my system from first tasting so remained in the car and people watched. He came back armed with a both of local Rose bubbly, that we enjoyed with our nibbles upon our return to out Gite, and with a local red for himself.

Next stop – Carrefour as we were low on ham etc, cheese and croissant from the boulangerie that is part of the complex. As we were having a lively discussion in front of the cheeses and an English voice asked “Do you eat cheese then?” The voice belonged to a lovely English man from Oxfordshire (he couldn't work out which English speaking nation we were from except that it wasn't UK!). His equally lovely wife appeared and we had a delightful talk about cheese, about travel, about speaking French as Brits cf speaking French as kiwis, the effect of the EU on the way the young travel, marry, work ( their son is married to an Italian, lives in Switerland, works for an American company and they also have a house in Northern Italy. As I explored the types of cheese my new friend asked, in fluent French the questions I had. Admiring her fluency I then found that she ( never did ask her name) had travelled to Toronoto as a 6 year old in 1940 as evacuees. The sailing before them of evacuee children from Britain had been torpedoed by German U Boats. Their intrepid sailing was safe due to the huge storm they encountered , in which the submarines could not operate. Oh my goodness – more reminders of reality beyond our generation.

Anyway her French had continued to build after those years and they come every year to France where they have had houses so get plenty of practice. What a different way of life.

Well – what a rich and fascinating chat we had. I think our lovely Brit does this when he hears English – sometimes would be more fruitful than others. Stephen was delighted! He loves a good travel chat!

Gite time – this time with our faithful hound who so wants to be loved and love us.He returned. As we ate our fresh baguette with Foie du Porc, cheeses bought with the advice of my new friend and washed down with the regions bubbly I couldn't resist his amber eyes and loving gaze. No 'doggy breath'– his teeth seem nice and clean, I asked him if his mother took him to the zoo dentist for treatment? If so there was a bit of plaque that needed attention.No doggy smell neither – he has a lovely golden brown curly shaggy coat – chocolate brown on his back. He would have loved tit bits but settled for GillieB strokes and pats and coos. He seemed to know Stephen was not interested – even though he did try to be friendly from time to time – receiving stern looks he settled back down to worship GB with his amber eyes! Oh ! I want to take this dog home for Lucas.

Thunder rumbled, rain tumbled and we retreated so did our (my!) wee canine friend to our respective abodes.

25 July

A quiet day around the gite with a leisurely visit to the local chateau at Montpoupon. Again the origins are from Folques-Nerra in the 11^th century and the location is strategic. There are some remnants from that time, but the chateau suffered during the 100 years war and was restored in the 1400's in the renaissance style. It fell into neglect in the 18^th century and then the chapel was destroyed during the revolution. Restoration was finally achieved around 1900 to the present condition.

Parts of the first 2 floors are open with displays of period furnishings and decorations with fine decorated beam ceilings. The kitchen which was added in the 19^th century was in use until the last cook retired in 1977 and has a fine display of cookware including a mould to prepare cleaned and boned poultry for the table.