Saturday, 3 March 2018 to Saturday, 10 March 2017
It was Saturday and Philippe and family had a surprise in store for us. We were treated to jazz at the Chez Constance Restaurant in a little village by the coast called Plougrescant. And all that jazz was accompanied by an excellent dinner of too many things to mention. What stood out though was the cabbage… now who would enthuse about cabbage you may ask. But, that red cabbage was simply delectable, and the owner did not get why we were so enthralled by it. “It’s just red cabbage boiled slowly for six hours, nothing added, nothing subtracted… “ was his response to our recipe request. Be as it may, that stuff was amazing!

And so was the jazz, it was of a high quality, you could see the band members truly enjoyed every moment of it. The drummer was a bit of a character, taking his time starting each song with a few fake hits to his drums just to get his rhythm in tune, before starting to bang away. His facial expressions while drumming away was rather amusing, you could see that he loved his job, he was excellent, and so were the rest of the crew. A most enjoyable evening!

We got home rather late, I was all jazzed up and there was no sleep in my immediate future. I turned to my trusty Scribd app and searched for a new book to read. Now you may remember that Scribed used to have an unlimited subscription model when I initially joined but they changed it in 2016. They then introduced a credit model, one audio book and three e-book credits per month. I don’t read that much but either way I was miffed. It used to be great being able to download anything and everything, even if it was just for a look around in the book, such as travel books. About a month ago Scribd returned to their unlimited model so I’m once again a much happier subscriber.

We were invited for a lovely lunch with Philippe and family after which we went for a stroll through the lovely Guingamp and parts of its neighbour Pabu. This was in part necessary in order to work off the weight that had accumulated after the substantial lunch. We walked up and down and all around along streams and streets we had never seen before.

We saw an ancient wash room where the community used to wash their clothes centuries ago. We saw wonderful art painted on electricity distribution buildings, painted by a well known artist from the area. We saw – which was a first for me – a bread dispenser where you can buy a fresh crunchy baguette. Insert your one Euro coin and out comes your baguette, freshly baked and inserted there once or twice a day. This should not have come as a surprise; after all, we are in France.

Later on in the evening I was watching the news and on came a protest of some sort in Milan where a lady flashed her breasts in order to show her displeasure with what was going on. The caption at the bottom of the screen I think was referring to something else though!

On Monday Philippe took us to Brest (not Breast) – which is situated on the far western coast and corner of Brittany – to visit the Océanopolis Aquarium. On Mondays Lucie is a volunteer at an old age home and thus could not join the rest of the team on this excursion. And what an excursion she missed.

 

 

We left Guingamp late morning but arrived in Brest exactly at 12:00, right on time for lunch… Trust the French. We ordered the plat du jour, which happened to be fish and chips today, at a lovely restaurant with a beautiful sea view.

 

 

 

 

 

Next up was what we came for, the aquarium and what a treat it was. There are different buildings that house displays and fish tanks varying from very large to super sized. These tanks houses sharks and seals and otherwise scary looking watery creatures but plenty of cute and would-be cuddly ones as well, like Nemo. There were penguins, turtles, crabs and lobsters, the latter two were fortunately not on our lunch menu. There was a bewildering array of sea creatures, some seen but mostly never seen before. I have not been to an aquarium for many a year, I had forgotten how fascinating they were.

 

On 19 November 2016, France’s first Cable Propelled Transit system (CPT) – the Brest Cable Car – opened, taking passengers on a 460m long CPT line across the coastal river of Penfeld. And that’s where we headed next- to give this marvel a try – crossing from the city centre to the Capucins neighbourhood which is currently being revitalized.

 

 

 

 

As we exited the cable car we entered the Ateliers du Plateau des Capucin, which started life as a convent and a church back in 1695. It was then converted into a hospital in 1757 and in 1791 it was given to the Navy which turned it into barracks in 1801 to house apprentice gunners. In the mid 1800s it became the workshop for the manufacture and assembly of boilers. In 2009 the Navy sold the plateau of Capucins to the City of Brest who converted it into a cultural centre, which is what it was today when we entered. Who knows what it would be tomorrow. Be as it may, they have converted it into a wonderful open space where one can sit and chat or work or… just think.

Whenever and wherever we travel, we always like to look at properties, analysing the prices and stock available… not that we’re buying you see, it’s just a thing that we do. We almost always check out property agent’s storefront windows to get an idea of the property market in the area we find ourselves in. Sometimes we even go and look at a property or two. And so it was the case in Guingamp.

There are a number of immobilière (real estate) companies here and we have often stopped, on our way somewhere, to inspect their wares through the window. Today we decided to step through that window and speak to a few agents, and also arranged to see a few properties.

It was around 18:30 that I picked Philippe up from home to take him to the train station, he was on his way back to Paris and the grindstone. He insisted the lift was not necessary, he wanted to walk, but the persistent rain changed his mind.

Wednesday and Thursday we went out with agents from two different companies to peruse some houses in the area. We saw stock that looked rather interesting and which one could surely turn into a comfortable home without much effort.

The agent on Thursday probably didn’t know what to do to keep us busy all afternoon so ended up taking us to a house that was nothing like we requested to view. It was on a through road, it was more than a couple of storeys high – four if you include the basement – but, be as it may, it was actually not in too bad shape.

The house is part of three adjoining houses which was built by a property developer in the early 1900s for his three children. The walls were solid, the roof was good, the wooden floors needed sanding, the walls needed painting, the outbuildings and garden were in bad shape. Adri was smitten; I was not convinced even though I could see the potential. If we had the money Adri would have signed there and then… needless to say, she did not sign.

It was late afternoon that we said our goodbyes to Lucie and Xavier but it was not too sad, we would be back in Guingamp in two weeks’ time.

It was Friday and we were moving house, this time to Normandy, and it just so happens that Philippe’s brother Frederic lives there. I met Frederic, also 30 years ago, when he and a friend came to South Africa to visit Philippe and spent a number of months travelling the length and breadth of the country. And what a time they had! But I digress…

It was Friday and we were moving house, and before too long we were packed and ready to go. And yes, all our life’s belongings fitted neatly into the boot of our little Estate, with a push here and a shove there, it all fitted, only just.

We took the longer road, sticking to lanes that wound as close as possible to the beautiful ocean. It was around 16:00 that we reached our destination of Saint-Malo and checked into our apartment for the night. The apartment was bright and beautiful and modern and was the same price as we would’ve paid for a stuffy hotel room. There was just one catch though; linen was not included in the price. And at €10 for the night I think it was a bit steep, but the apartment was well worth it though. Note to self and anyone that care to listen, when booking an apartment through booking.com, make sure that any extras such as linen, cleaning fees, parking etc. are included in the price.

In was early evening when we took a drive into the Saint-Malo old town and what a lovely time we had there. No need to describe the place; just take a look at the pictures below… wonderful.

We left Saint-Malo for Mont-Saint-Michel and beyond at around 10:00 on Saturday, we had to shake a leg, we still had lots to do and drive. Somewhere along this winding road that we chose we crossed the provincial border from Brittany into Normandy.

Now if you don’t know about Saint-Michel you have certainly seen pictures of it, everyone has seen pictures of it, it’s probably one of the most photographed sites in France.

 

 

 

The main feature of Saint-Michel is essentially the large abbey at the top of this promontory from which spills cobble stone streets right down to near sea level, all lined with restaurants, clothes and souvenir shops and B&Bs, all very enchanting.

Mont-Saint-Michel is an island situated about 1km off the coast but depending on the tides one can walk there. It happened to be neap tide so today we did not have to worry about tides coming in or going out, today Saint-Michel was essentially a non-island.

But, one has to be careful; the highest tides in continental Europe take place here and there can be up to 15 metres difference between low and high water. The highest tides apparently take place 36 to 48 hours after the full and new moons. During the top of the spring tides, the sea goes out 15 kilometres from the coast and comes in again very quickly… Run Forest… run!

Just before one reaches Saint-Michel there are several large parking areas from where you can board a complimentary bus that takes you the 2km or so to the outcrop. You can of course choose to ignore the bus and walk, which many people do do. Adri was contemplating, I was not, we still had much to do and drive. It was still another 100km or so to Créances where we had booked an apartment for the next two weeks.

On entering Saint Michel it almost immediately gets you under its spell. We strolled up and up the little streets until we reached The Abbey. We paid our dues and wandered through the abbey following a very natural trail through its various parts. We spent a number of hours wandering around these buildings, centuries old, marvelling at the seascapes that are presented to you wherever one happened to look… just wonderful.

 

 

 

 

We would have liked to have lingered longer but unfortunately it was time to make our way to Créances, and our new home. We arrived late in the afternoon after a rather eventful drive. The navigation system insisted on taking us on the skinniest roads, almost wide enough for a car and a cow to pass one another. I made a mental note to check the route settings on this GPS thing.

Our new landlady seemed to understand English but did not speak it. To her it probably seemed that we understood her French due to us nodding our heads at all her explanations, we were just trying not to look thick. We probably would have gotten away with the charade until she asked us a question, we gave her questioning looks. And that’s when she roped in the help of her son, Jean-Luc, who re-explained everything to us in perfect English.

The apartment was lovely with a downstairs for living and an upstairs for sleeping. There was also a lovely patio which sadly went unused due to the current mostly cold and rainy weather. Everything was perfect except for the wifi (pronounced we-fee here in France), it was too terrible. I registered my dissatisfaction in as nice a manner as I could via email… you know how I get when my we-fee is bad.

The landlady lives next door and the wifi is obviously accessed from the router in their home, so in the kitchen area the wifi was not bad. When moving to the lounge it was unworkable and going upstairs the signal fell off the screen.

When the landlady seemed to suggest that I surf from the comfort of the sink, I blew my by now ill fitting lid. I responded that I surf in the lounge and in the bedroom, the kitchen we use for cooking. After this email I was promised that it will be sorted out by Tuesday, the computer guy does not work on weekends and Mondays. Sigh… but I guess I’ll survive.

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