19 – 21 August 2021
Finistère (29), that’s the name of this „département“, the equivalent of Swiss cantons. Finis Terra, or Land’s End, and yes, this is the outmost bit of France.
I have two more days before I have to get back to Granville to join my sailing crew. It is a spontaneous decision to go to Penmarc’h and up the 300 or so steps of one of my favourite lighthouses. ‚Tour tan (Breton for ‚lighthouse‘) Eckmühl‘. Penmarc’h and anyhow Pay Bigouden in the region of Cornouaille (that’s the area around the beautiful town of Quimper) have always seemed to me „the end of the world“, but it only seems to be so. For, when you look at it from the top of the lighthouse you realise who inhabited Brittany is. Brittany is the most densly inhabited region of France, you wouldn’t think so because of it’s supposed wilderness.
I have been here before, in 1985 for example, on my first trip to Brittany, then later with my Mom, that was in the late 80ties or early 90ties and again on my trip in 2000. Last time I was here was with my sons in 2015 or so. Still, I find the staircase just gorgeous the way it coils and resembles a fresly unfurling fern leaf and even though I have taken so many pics I add a few more to my collection. I like the way light changes within the tower when you look at the staircase from below, from different locations and heights when waling up in it.
Having got rid of the herring I just relish the ‚Crêpe au Chevre Chaud et Pommes‘, and the ‚Crêpe au beurre avec une boule de glace vanille‘ in the nearby Crêperie du Phare. Then I take the road to a campsite which I have been on once before in 2000. It was – to stay with the topic – called Camping de la Crêpe, but now it is Camping de Lanven (after the hamlet’s name) and I don’t feel inclined to take a pitch when I hear the loud music from a youngster’s summer camp.
Instead I go down to the wonderful beach ‚Plage de la Torche‚. This is one of France’s finest sufers‘ spots. I have been here before, too, and sit for more than an hour in the sun, thinking about my past, because this place reminds me of my beloved ‚Grande Plage‘ on the Island of Oléron and my many stays there with my kids and sometimes with my mother. In a sudden surge of motherly feelings I text my older son how grateful I am that I have the two of them and that we had these times together. I think, it’s for the first time that I feel a little homesick – so I decide to leave.
Dunes at Plage de la Torche
Calvaire de Saint Trönoen 
Britanny’s oldest calvary
It isn’t the best idea to call and reserve a pitch on the Campsite de la Mer near Ploeven. There is nothing, really nothing special about it. I thought it was one that I had also been on during my 2000 trip. That one, I remembered, was situated on top of a cliff overlooking the beach and the sea. This one is located some hundred meters away from the sea, no view. And – lots of Germans. This is something I had already noticed at the Eckmühl lighthouse. Finistère is frequented by Germans at the moment.
I have dinner, sleep and leave. Just a few kms further down the road I stop my van right at the seafront at ‚Plage de Lestrevet‚ and have an extended breakfast, i.e. I also have to do some online work to do for my boys. It is far nicer here. Some locals come up to my van and start a conversation. Nobody seems to be bother about people doing pick-nick pulled up at the side of the road.
Then I slowly drive on along the coast to La Pointe de Penhir. There are a lot of cars going in the same direction. La Pointe de Penhir is situated right next to the lovely town of Camaret and its Tour Vauban. On top, there are some prehistoric ‚alignements‘ and some bunkers from the WWII. So, lots to see. Again, I have been here before. But I like the place very much, as we ankered just in the bay below and even sailed through Le Tas de Pois, the ‚heap of peas‘, several times, e.g. last August.
Tas de Pois 
Pointe de Penhir
When I come back to my van a woman approached me: „Hi, we’ve met before.“ I don’t recognise her at once, „on the bridge at Saint Malo.“ True, she was the one who was also taking pictures when we had to stop at the lock (Schleuse). „I recognised your car!“ Ah, well true. There isn’t a second ‚Avel Mor‘. We start talking about our itineries, our vehicles and I hve just explained that I’m travelling on my own and I haven’t met any other single campers so far when a passing man puts in that he is actually also travelling alone. Reinhard, Sandra and me have a long chat. I learn that there is an app „france passion“ that shows lots of place to stay overnight on farms and wineyards and so on for free, once you’ve paid the annual fee of €30. Great! You see, most of the time it is rewarding when you start talking to other campers!
It’s just an hour’s drive or so to get around the bay over the beautiful bridge of Térénez to Brest and the marina of ‚Moulin Blanc‚.
I find a great parking space for my van, which is utmost important here. Still, I go back to the marina and explain my case. I will take the train to Granville the next day to sail back from there all along the north coast of ‚La côte émeraude and la côte de granit rose‘ to Brest. So, my van is going to be parked in Brest for two weeks and another few days, as I have to travel back to Switzerland because of my older son’s 18th birthday. And what do they do, those nice Bretons? They allow me to park my van within the marina’s reserved parking area just opposite the Océanopolis – for free! (For those who love reading the detective Dupin series: Océanopolis is where Dupin contemplates on his favourite animals, the penguins, at the beginning of volume three ‚Gold of Brittany‘. The ‚gold‘ of Brittany is the salt grown and harvested in the many salt pans further south around the medival town of Guérande and the fishing hamlet Le Crosic.) I even get the code to the sanitary buildings for 24 hours. Spendid!
my minigarden
I have been here before! At least five times. I like the place a lot, even though Brest has been badly destroyed during the second world war because of its submarine harbour. The submarine harbour is still there. The area around the port has changed a lot. Instead of port buildings there is the Océanopolis, kind of a zoo but dedicated to the sea and its creatures. I have not visited it yet, but I really want to pay Océanopolis a visit soon.
So, there I am and repack my luggage because I have to take certain things with me of course, but also want to put the e-bike into the van for the fortnight that it will be standing here. I meet Luc, or rather get attracted by Rinka, his dog. I don’t really like dogs but Rinka seems to be a bordercollie and I like bordercollies. The special thing about Rinka is her not only black and white fur. Her fur is rather greyish with some brown in her face and around her black ears. I have not seen a dog alike. Luc explains to me that there is probably some Austalian shepherd in her as well – that makes sense!
Luc is 63 and lives partly on his boat and partly in his big camping car just standing on in front of his boat. We chat for quite some time and get bitten by mosquitoes (my first real mosquito attact on my trip!) before I finally go to bed and sleep rather well.
After packing my luggage I take a taxi to the station. The train is on time.
French people like having picknicks, I know. But I did not reckoned on the intensitiy of this addiction. A family is sitting opposite of me. At noon they unpack plastic plates and cups. Roast chicken breast with salad is being served and this rather copious meal seems to be the most normal thing for this family. It’s amazing. Instead of having a simple sandwhich these people put a lot of effort into having a picknick on a train.
Once in Granville there is no taxi that I could take. Neither does any of the three taxi companies take up the phone as I try to phone them. Someone tells me there is a bus. There is – for free! I find my sailing boat AVEL (Breton for ‚wind‘) and its owner and skipper Denys.
Granville 