PROMENEUR :- John W
The writer apologises for the unashamed (so why apologise ?) egocentricity of this blog but he was the only "Meanderthal" in France at the time. We were staying in "Damgan" a small seaside town in South Brittany.
Being lost in France has several meanings.
Lost in France
Not knowing where you are. For JW a frequent occurrence. Taking a wrong turn down a side road in rural France is not advisable. The roads are narrow with deep drainage ditches on either side. On rounding a bend one is confronted with an agricultural vehicle whose TYRES are bigger than one's car. High up on top of this vehicle is a glass cabin from within which a friendly but determined French farmer is smilingly signalling that you must reverse. After reversing for several hundred metres in a state of nervous tension (Remember the ditches) a turn into a field entrance reveals that that is the very field the agricultural monster is heading for. Being lost, though, means coming across all sorts of fascinating spots. Tiny villages with a welcoming café. An old watermill with a crystal clear stream tumbling by. Being Lost in France is actually an enjoyable part of our holiday. Part of the "French" experience.
Lost In France
Completely absorbed and enchanted by the llfe style and culture of the country. Cycling to the village boulangerie early in the morning to buy croissants for breakfast and a baguette for the day and returning as the church bells ring out over the fields. Pulling into a field of smiling sunflowers to sit in the sun with a picnic. Visiting medieval towns with narrow cobbled streets to explore. Sitting on a quiet beach in the warm sunshine with a good book, an equally good picnic and a cool beer from our coolbox. Chatting in mangled French to people we meet. Perfect !
Lost in France
The title of a hit song sung by welsh singer Bonnie Tyler the tune of which we find ourselves humming in the car as we drive along wondering where we are and when we shall find our way back to the accommodation.
Lost in France
The title of a hit song sung by welsh singer Bonnie Tyler the tune of which we find ourselves humming in the car as we drive along wondering where we are and when we shall find our way back to the accommodation.
At this time of the year the beaches are very quiet and parking is no problem
The boss sitting in the sun reading
The medieval streets on the walled town of La Guerande
Being in "Asterix" land JW had to pretend to be "Obelix"
Not Really !
Port "Crusty" (spelled Crouesty)
Here we go Danny. The boss picking ingredients for a Delicious "Apple and Blackberry" pie. It was down this lane that a couple of years ago we were startled (scared) by some huge rats as big as cats that emerged from the bushes. They were not rats but "Coypu" large South American rodents that were living and breeding here.
Another "Cafe au Lait and The Anglais" in Croisic a seaside town
Afternoon drinks in the garden of our accommodation
Picnic by the Brest - Nante canal
Yet another coffee and tea break
"TREE of the WEEK" ? It has a knitted overcoat ?????
JW has long been jealous of Danny's Australian "Nettle Basher" stick. Sooo... in
"Vide Grenier" (Car boot sale) a man was sellng sticks so I bought one. This just the top.
And so the sunsets on another sojourn in France.
After a night in a hotel within the walls of St Malo it was all aboard the "MV Bretagne" and the eight hour cruise past the Channel Isles and across the "Manche" to Portsmouth
"Aurevoir France - A Bientot"
"LE FIN"
Another "Cafe au Lait and The Anglais" in Croisic a seaside town
JW has long been jealous of Danny's Australian "Nettle Basher" stick. Sooo... in
"Vide Grenier" (Car boot sale) a man was sellng sticks so I bought one. This just the top.
After a night in a hotel within the walls of St Malo it was all aboard the "MV Bretagne" and the eight hour cruise past the Channel Isles and across the "Manche" to Portsmouth
"LE FIN"
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