This may sound odd but I am off chocolate. I am not entirely sure how it comes about, just that I eat a whole lot less of them (or none at all for extended period) and I am no longer tempted to buy them regularly either. On the other hand, F is chomping in chocolate on a daily basis, at just about every main meal of the day. I reckon he’s eating enough chocolate for the two of us in any case. And yes, we have a stock of chocolate tablets at home to sustain his habit (and this is just about all the chocolate I pick up nowadays).
So when Salon du Chocolat came rolling into town this week, I debated. Nearly an annual pilgrimage for me, I hemmed and hawed about going this year. I probably would have skipped it had my childhood friend not been in town and curious about this large gathering of chocolate vendors and other purveyors of sweet goodies. :)
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Our few days of roaming around Morbihan came quickly to a close, and we found ourselves driving back to my in-laws to drop their car back (they had kindly lent us one for the trip). En route, we made a couple more quick stops, in the small towns of Locmariaquer and La Roche Bernard.
Locmariaquer is well-known for the largest menhir to be erected but sadly this broken menhir of Er Grah now lies on the ground in four pieces, adjacent to a famous dolmen, Table des Marchands. We debated visiting the site but given the lacklustre guided tour that morning at Carnac, my fellow road-trippers were less enthusiastic about it. Instead, we wandered around the port area for a little bit, had a very late lunch, and set off again.
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Our August travel in Bretagne Sud had taken us to the quaint village of Saint Cado, the Bay of Biscay for Barre d’Étel and Gâvres, and the peninsula of Quiberon. However, we simply cannot drive past Erdeven and Carnac without visiting at least one of the several megalithic sites the region is famous for!
We strategically searched for a chambre d’hôte that is close to my friend’s wedding reception yet within reach of interesting spots to sightsee. An online search led me to the B&B of Kerzerho where we were very well looked after by Dominique throughout our stay. Frederic and I were given a room with a balcony where we could have breakfast on sunny mornings, and both ours as well as our friends’ rooms were tastefully decorated and immaculately cleaned. Moreover, Dominique is an active member of the local tourism board and therefore has plenty of tips to offer.
Anyway, I digress.
A short walk away from our B&B is the megalithic site of Erdeven itself! Comprised of over 1,000 standing and 5,000 lying stones, this site also known as Kerzerho alignment is the most significant site after the three main ones in Carnac. From the main road passing through Erdeven, some of these standing stones – menhirs – are clearly visible. One needs to only follow the path to enjoy a couple of hours of walk among the menhirs, spot the praying table, and marvel at the rare remaining dolmens.
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What a glorious day it was, when we drove our way down to Quiberon. A former island in the Atlantic ocean until the 11th century, when formation of a tombolo changed its landscape and connected the island to the mainland, creating a peninsula with an isthmus that sports a width of mere 22m at its narrowest point.
The key to truly enjoy the coastal front of the Côte Sauvage is to avoid the chock-a-block main road, particularly during the summer holiday season, that goes through St-Pierre-Quiberon down to Quiberon. Instead, on passing the tombolo and immediately on arrival of the former island, take a right turn in the direction of Portivy. From there, it’s a straight drive along the coast. Better still, park the car and take a long, invigorating walk while admiring the wild coast which sees waves after waves crashing in.
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The Ria d’Étel empties into the Bay of Biscay, and right at this meeting point, things can get pretty interesting. After our morning detour to Saint Cado, we continued driving westwards to Barre d’Etel, located at the mouth of the estuary.
Along the river, large volumes of water are displaced by the tides and the estuary itself is subject to strong currents – we saw multiple signs warning potential swimmers from committing the folly of mounting a watery challenge. At Barre d’Etel, an ever shifting band of sand is formed by these cross currents. Additionally, on days with strong wind, be prepared for the assault of the sand. (Yes, I was ill-prepared, for I arrived wearing shorts and it was painful being pelted non-stop that I couldn’t go anywhere near the seafront! Everyone else came back with pocketful of sands instead.)
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Another month, another wedding to attend. While July’s wedding took us to Dijon for a weekend, August saw us heading to Morbihan (southern Brittany) for a handful few days to celebrate the marriage of one of my best friends from my Dublin days. While we were there, as you may have guessed – road trip!
One of our post-wedding sightseeing stops in the region was Saint Cado, a small islet just to the north of Belz. It is such an idyllic village, set with stone and whitewashed houses surrounding a chapel that was built in the 12th century on the site originally founded in the 6th century, and flat green fields that occupy the eastern half of the islet. It is also surrounded by structures that indicate oyster farming as the main economic activity off its immediate bay today. Between the islet and the mainland, a singular stone house is seen to sit on another small rock island in the middle of Ria d’Etel.
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A second wedding invitation this summer saw us heading to Rahon on the weekend of 14 July, and we took the opportunity to visit Dijon too. Probably not the best travel move of the year, since our sightseeing day was not only on a Sunday, it was also the 14 July, and just about everything was shut. We explored the town by foot randomly, and with some tips from the tourist information centres that were, surprisingly, open on a Sunday and a public holiday to boot, we found some activities to do.
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Blink, blink. September has just turned up, the French population is gearing up for la rentrée while I, well, dealing with a bunch of paperwork actually. That, and finalising the details of my upcoming holiday. In the mean time, I’m suffering from writer’s block and find it very difficult to put words to paper (or to WordPress, in this case). Please excuse me while I search for my inner wannabe-writer…
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26 Aug: There are the typical Haussmanian buildings, and then there are a whole lot of variations of non-Haussmanian too. I don’t think I was too far away from Pont d’Alma when I took this shot, just because it’s quirky enough to be different from its neighbours. I’ve been trying to search for more information on this architectural style, but haven’t have much luck so far. I may need to dig deeper, or whip up the thick book of Parisian architecture bible that F bought a long time ago. It’s a very interesting book, but just a bit too much French for me to read, so it’s work instead of fun reading.
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Ever since Alex posted some photos on her Facebook over a year ago of her walk in the woods of St Germain-en-Laye, Frédéric and I spoke often of visiting it ourself. But alas, all talk, no action…
When Lauren and Danielle started planning for an afternoon out in this western suburb of Paris, I jumped at the opportunity to tag along. We were joined by Anne, Deanna and Lauren’s adorable pup, Daisy. Moreover, with “free” daily transport within Ile-de-France in the summer thanks to the dézonage of Navigo – it is now back to weekends and public holiday only – it would be silly not to take advantage of it.
A short fortnight later, I found myself hopping back on the RER A towards St Germain-en-Laye, this time with Frédéric and Nicolas in tow. For the second time in as many weeks, I was admiring the beautifully designed garden of the Château of St Germain-en-Laye by André Le Nôtre, principal gardener to King Louis XIV (who was, incidentally, born in St Germain-en-Laye) and the man responsible for raising the bar in the construction of formal French gardens.
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I have a thing for the fleur de sel. The “flower of salt” is famously hand-harvested in Guérande, just south of Brittany, although there are other (mechanically collected) productions in Noirmoutier, Île de Ré and Camargue too. Moist to touch and pale silver-grey in colour, this fine salt has such a delicate taste that once you start to use fleur de sel, it’s hard to imagine going back to your average table salt. I couldn’t describe it but know that it doesn’t taste like any other salt in the world.
Just outside of the historical town of Guérande lies the salt marshes, the marais salant, where the fleur de sel is harvested. A complex series of waterways, including the traicts protected by Le Croisic and Pen Bron, channels the water of the Atlantic Ocean into shallow marshes; the water fills up the basins – also known as vasière – during high tide and is then guided to into the marshes known as the œillets via designated narrow water networks.
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