16 – 18 August 2021
Le département Morbihan (56) s’appelle après le Golf de Morbihan. En Breton, ‘mor’ c’est ‚mer‘ et ‘bihan’ veut dire ‚petit‘. Le Golf de Morbihan c’est le petit mer, presque entouré par de terre sauf d’une petite passage. Il y des iles, comme l‘Ile de Moine. Je veux partir à Lorient, L’Orient, oui, c’était ici ou les garnde bateaux sont arrivés dans les siècles passés de L’Orient. La Companie des Indes a emporté des herbes et d’épices de pays orientales. Il y a un musée sur la Companie des Indes, et une aussi sur Eric Tabarly, le fameux voilier français. D’après lui Lorient s’appelle aussi ‘Cité de Voile’. Comme j’ai fait aussi la voile, ce musée est bien pour moi.
Well, I can pretty much make myself understood in French, but writing it, is a different story. So, maybe I stay with English!
Before I head down to the South Coast of Brittany, I want to see a place called Erquy. I don’t know why, but I have always wanted to go there. First, I call „Le camping municipal“ at Port-Louis and book a pitch for three nights – this turns out to be a wise decision as the place will be fully booked when I arrive later.
To go to Erquy I actually have to drive over „La Rance“. And there is a hold up because the bridge goes up to let some sailing boats into and through the lock. This time I am really ravished about this hold up, as this allows me to get out of the car and take ample pictures of the tidial power station and the view back to Saint Malo. I am not alone. There are a few people, mostly tourists, taking pictures, one among them is a blond German woman. We are laughing at our chance and each other!
Just before Erquy, there is another of these gorgeous Breton beaches, Anse de Croc is one of these. Erquy itself I find rather disappointing. The strong wind has made some people going foiling in the extended harbour. I’m having a sandwhich while watching them. I wish I would be young again and could take that challenge.
My challenge today is to drive straight through Brittany to the South Coast to Port-Louis. That’s actually not a big deal and I make it in less than 2 hours.
The campsite has only got 42 pitches. ‚Municipal‘ are alwas simple, but there’s everything you need, clean bathrooms, electricity, close to the town centre and the beach and it costs me – 42 Euros for 3 nights! This has been the cheapest campsite I have been on ever since I left home, maybe the cheapest ever!
I am among locals. This is real France now, „oui“, „oui“, „mais oui!“ „mais non!“ And every middle-aged couple in a mobilhome has got at least one of these f…. barking dogs! The smaller the louder. I really hate Yorkshire Terriers. I also have to listen to extended discussions on about I don’t know what „mais oui“, „mai non“. My pitch is close to the service house and the playground. So I have to listen to further extended discussions when papi and papa are doing the washing up and children teasing, arguing, bullying. But well, this is France and I am among French people now. I think I am about the only foreigner.
But why, why for heaven’s sake do people buy these huge mobilhomes when they are not able to handle them? Already on the campsite Les Chevrets an about 10 metres long vehicle was driving around the campsite looking for a suitable pitch. Well, there is none for such size!
After my stay in Scandinavia I find it rather crowded here in France, even though it is certainly not as croweded as central Switzerland. It’s peak holiday time on top, so I am happy that, with some foresigh, everything works out so well.
The day says goodbye with a nice sunset – in the morning it is drizzling, though. It is this very fine drizzle that is so typical of Brittany. The raintrops are so small, you don’t know whether it’s actually raining or whether it is just fog. Nevertheless, I take my electric bike and drive along the coastline. I want to see some of the villages along the river Blavet. From Port-Louis I cycle to Riantec, Locmiquélic, where I, just for fun, go to a DIY shopping centre. I love ‚bricolage‘, and I’d like to find out what kind of range of things French DIY centres have. It’s actually pretty impressive and I buy three ceramic drawer knobs.
I’m really fond of doing this kind of thing: Going to ordinary shopping centres or other completely ordinary places. I think, it tells you so much about a country, much more than all those pictoresque villages and places.
The „bateau bus“ takes me to central Lorient. The ride only costs € 1.50 The bike is for free. It’s a very convenient way of getting around and over the Blavet river. I am surprised what a lively town Lorient is. The town was almost completely destroyed during the second World War. So, there are no old half-timbered houses or so. Yet, there is a really uplifted atmosphere that ordinary afternoon. Lots of restaurants, cafés, shops, pubs, pedestrian areas and an organic market on the main square in front of the theatre, where people actually even bring their paper bags to get refilled with vegetables and fruit. The only downside to this city might be the beggers who are demanding a bit too aggressively for my taste and – the still foggy weather!
It is extremely easy to get around by bike. There are bike lanes on town streets and you are allowed to cycle in the pedestrain areas. I really like it! I decide to continue my afternoon ride and cycle out to the sea resort village on the other side of the Blavet river. I – of course – lose my way and my battery is running low. Well, that’s an issue. Have you ever ridden an electric bike without electric support? That’s harder by far than riding an ordinary bike. So, I change my plans and take the most direct road to Lamor-Plage.
There, I finally have my gorgeous „gauffre“, waffle with one „boule de glace croquantine“. I sit at the beach facing Port-Louis, trying to imagine what it would be like living here. Then I cycle back to the Marina de Kerneval, from where I take again the ‚bateau bus‘ back to Port-Louis.
The captain helps me with my bike and asks me where I was from. Switzerland. „Il me resemble qu’il y avait un accent sous la masque …“. And then he tells me that his mother came from Le Canton de Jura, and his father from the French Jura side. People are extremely friendly here, helpful, patient, open-minded – most of them.
Back in Port-Louis I have a quick dinner – my last Danish potatoes with my still Swedish herreng – and then I head back to the village. There is a vivid market going on in the few streets of the town and I am really surprised about how many people there are walking up and down the rows of stalls. The ambiance is nice, friendly, French. I buy some spices from a woman who seems not to sell much and start talking to her.
Later, when I am lying on my upper bedsted in my van, looking out of the ‚window‘, seeing the flashlight of Lorient harbour entrance, I am pretty happy.
I have never noticed before that seagulls can make such bugging noise. So far, their cries have always made me remember my ever so beloved sea. When they start their conversations at 4h30 in the morning, I think that’s a bit too much! Well, I am near the seaside and that’s where seagulls live.
It is still ‚foggy‘. So, I take my time in the morning and do not feel really inclined to get onto the bike and explore. Still, I’d like to go to the Eric Tabarly Museum. This is a museum about sailing and I have to say, once again, this is one of those French interactive museums that I really love. I once had asked someone in a museum here in France how it came that there were always so nice activities for children. The answer was so convincing: „Adults do not come to museums because their children feel bored. So, we decided that, in order to get adults back to visit museums, we need to do things for children. And we did.“
The museum is crowded! Even in covid times. The activities are really nice: Hissing sails, deciding what course to take, reading maritime maps etc. etc. Eric Taberly, by the way, is a famous French sailor, who won lot’s of races, one by a lead of 11 days. He was also involved in developping and improving sailing boats. His boats Pen Duick (I too VI) are famous. He died actually in a sailing accident, which is a bit surprising for such an experienced sailor. He went over board in a stormy night off the Cornish north coast when he and his crew tried to reduce the amount of sail when a loose sail hit him and washed him overboard. Obviously he wasn’t attached to a life-line. The old sailor saying says: „One hand for the man, one hand for the boat.“ And if you need more hands you need a life-line!
Once again I take the ‚bateau bus‘ to get back to Port-Louis and there is a second boat and I spot the „Jura-Captain“. I’m waving and he obviously recognises me and waves back! It could get cosily familiar here, I suppose …
This is true for the butcher, as well. I usually love fish and herreng, but enough is enough. I had enough of Swedish herreng. „I need something else“, my body tells me it longs for something else. So, I rush into the butcher’s shop and buy an oriental-style sausage, two sorts of potatoe salad and a seed salad with cranberries, which turns out to be rather nice. Once again the young butcher is so kind, chatting along with me about Port-Louis and having a look at his rather big range of choice I suppose that there must be a lot of customers, indeed.