Having a "Duh!" Moment

On Friday morning, July 24, we set out for our next base, Quimper, the prefecture of the most western department in France, Finistere.  The name Finistere derives from the Latin "finis terrae", meaning "end of the earth," a term used by the ancients to describe the most extreme reach of land in relation to a huge body of water such as the Atlantic Ocean. The phrase "the end of the world" is often used in our day to describe desolate or unpopulated areas, but there are too many people in Finistere for that to be true.

The estimated drive from Dinan to Quimper was 2.5 hours. Maybe because of the longer driving route, it started registering with us that there seemed to be more information than usual on the road signs. It was finally the many signs directing us to Quimper and Kemper that sent me to the internet to locate Kemper. It turns out that Kemper IS Quimper if one is using the Breton language. Cue the light bulb-- well, duh, all of that "extra" information on the road signs is because they're in bilingual format. 

Breton is a Celtic language that arrived in Brittany with immigrants from southwest Britain in the 5th and 6th centuries AD. Closely related to Cornish, it is the only surviving Celtic language spoken on the European mainland today. With four main regional dialects, there were probably upwards of a million people who spoke the language in 1950. After a prolonged period of official French suppression of the Breton language in the 19th and 20th centuries, the number of active speakers declined to the low six figures, and most of those are older than 60 years of age. As a result, Breton is officially classified as an "endangered language". The appearance of bilingual signs in Brittany is part of the efforts to revive it.

Not a road sign, but this tourist map of Quimper (Kemper) is bilingual
and shows what the written Breton language looks like.

A 2.5-hour drive time had us looking for a stop at some intermediate spot, hopefully one that had some historical or scenic interest. A visit to Bon-Repos Abbey, a Cistercian abbey originally founded in the 12th century, satisfied the historical piece and its location in a pretty wooded area near the Nantes-Brest canal satisfied the scenic aspect. 

The original founder of the Abbey, Alain III de Rohan, created the abbey as much for political and economic reasons as for religious ones. The early centuries of the Abbey's existence were marked by significant economic growth, the 16th and 17th centuries by a slow decline. In the early 18th century, a new abbot rebuilt and altered much that had fallen into disrepair, but the French Revolution at the end of that century ended monastic life at the abbey. It soon became a property of the state and began to deteriorate. Laborers constructing the Nantes-Brest canal in 1832 were the last people to be housed in the abbey buildings that were still standing at that point. It wasn't until 1986 that an association was formed to reclaim and renovate this piece of Breton history.

A series of images on display at the abbey shows changes through the years. Above, an artist's
drawing of what the abbey was like in the 18th century; Lower left: the abbey in 2024; 
Lower right: vegetation reigns supreme in 1962. 

Various shots of the interior and exterior of the abbey now. At lower right, the wall
that Lon is standing by is about all that is left from the abbey church. Blocks have been
laid out on the grounds to show the former footprint of that particular building. Some of
the fully enclosed rooms are used for cultural exhibitions.

While we were there, preparations were underway for the annual sound and light show. For 35 years, a monumental performance has been held that likely puts the sound and light shows of most towns to shame. The performance lasts for 2 hours, involves 350 volunteer performers and 25 horsemen, pyrotechnic effects, and monumental projections on the facade of Bon-Repos Abbey. 

The audience chairs were mostly set up by this point. It looked like it was going to be
an amazing production--we were disappointed not to be able to attend.

A relaxing lunch at a casual restaurant with a view of the canal and the abbey set us up for a brief walk along the Nantes-Brest canal and the surrounding woods. The impetus for the construction of the canal was the English blockade of the port of Brest in the early 1800's. When construction was completed in in mid-1800's, it was 385 km long and had 238 locks. Its locks are of a smaller gauge (26.5-27 m long, 4.3-4.7 m wide) than the standard Freycinet gauge locks (38.5-39 m long, 5.2 m wide) we've been used to seeing during our cruising. The canal was closed as a through route in 1920, when the Guerledan dam opened and flooded a section of the canal. Commercial use disappeared, but portions of the canal have been restored, and 3 sections are again open to (mostly recreational) navigation.

Upper: a section of the canal near Bon Repos.
Lower: a section of the canal a few kilometers east of Bon Repos.

The viaduct of Bon Repos, a former railway bridge, is now integrated into the hiking and 
biking trails in the area. It has been retained as a historic testament to the narrow-gauge railway
 line that existed in Brittany from the late 19th century until most of the lines closed in 1967.

A late afternoon arrival in Quimper found us in an apartment located about a 10–15-minute walk from the old center of town. As an apartment it was nothing special, but the location was more than decent, and the parking situation was great--right outside the door (not something we ever take for granted when booking our stays in urban areas).

The timing of our stay in Quimper was superlative, because it was the weekend of the annual (since 1923) Festival of Cornwall, an extravaganza of Breton culture and Celtic heritage. We didn't do much that first evening other than taking a brief walk in the old part of town, having dinner, and experiencing some chance encounters with festival events.

"What can you do with a drunken sailor?" (not done in English, of course) was one of the
sea shanties sung by this talented group. Long live striped Breton shirts!
 

Saturday was our day to skip driving and take to our feet to follow the tourist office's guide through Quimper. Aside from some local, targeted destruction of a few buildings by the German forces as they retreated from the area in 1944, Quimper escaped widespread destruction in WWII. Therefore, unlike unfortunate Saint-Malo, the medieval layout and old buildings in Quimper's historic center avoided massive flattening from air raids.

Festival crowds, active shopping, and an attractive downtown.

More downtown and an insight into men's fashion (way) back in the day.

Left: Saint Corentin cathedral, with one of the longest building programs on record. Construction
started in the 13th century and didn't conclude until the 19th.
Right: flowers, water, and old towers make everything look better.

Top: almost 40% of the 13th and 15th C. walls which surrounded the
medieval city are still intact.
Bottom: the century-old Max Jacob Theater.

Quimper is a city of gardens and flowers. At top, the Jardin de la Retraite is able to 
maintain Mediterranean plants in a northern climate because of its southern exposure and
protection by walls. At bottom, numerous flower-laden pedestrian bridges cross the tidal
 Odet river.

Traditional Breton costumes were everywhere. Saturday afternoon had a children's parade. 
We didn't stay to watch the whole thing, but (upper right) did see the young ladies and gentlemen waiting to particiipate. At bottom right, a traditional youth piping band--we had no
idea that bagpipes were part of the culture in any part of France.

Saturday night was "take a break from French cuisine" night for us, as
we enjoyed a tasty Indonesian meal.

It actually rained a bit overnight on Saturday, and the low clouds hung around for the early part of our day on Sunday. A short 30-minute drive got us to the fishing town of Douarnenez. It, too, had a festival taking place during the weekend. The biennial Maritime Festival, with historic ships and a variety of activities and demonstrations, was taking place at the Old Port of Rosmeur. We only had limited time, so we passed on actually going into the festival site, but having seen all the tall ships last year at Sail Amsterdam we thought we could probably concentrate on other things.

The name of Douarnenez's town exploration walk says it all: The Sardine Trail. The history of sardine fishing and processing dates from Gallo-Roman times. Its heyday in Douarnenez was the 19th and early 20th centuries. Although some smaller scale fishing and processing still exist, the big fleets and associated canneries are gone, and the town focus is primarily cultural and maritime tourism.

The old port of Rosmeur; the tide is low--as are the clouds.

Later in the day the beach is covered up and the sun is making an appearance.

Different views of the harbor. At lower right, a "try scuba" water tank was set up.

Left: St Helen chapel, 16th-18th C. This was the chapel of the fishing folk in the Rosmeur district
until 1875. Upper Right: the ceiling of the chapel looks like an overturned boat hull.
Lower Right: a quiet Sunday morning in Douarnenez.

Discovered in the Plomarc'h, a sort of reserve on the outskirts of Douarnenez, was this 
archeological site. It was a Gallo-Roman fish processing site, where the Romans made a 
fish-based condiment known as "garum".

Top: a view across the bay from the Roman site shows a number of
sandy beaches in the area.
Bottom: an old farm in the Plomarc'h.

On our way out of town we could see another of the ports of Douarnenez.

After we left Douarnenez we decided to head for another coastal viewpoint to get some further perspective on "wild Brittany." Pointe du Van is nearly the furthest west you can go in Finistere, which means we nearly were "at the end of the (mainland France) world."

A sunny afternoon would have been better, but it was still pretty
special. It was probably far less crowded than the neighboring, but
better known, Pointe du Raz.

Upper Left: Given the prevalence of hot weather we'd been having, it was strange to need a
windbreaker. However, it was pretty windy along the coast, and the clouds kept it cool.
Lower left: Lon approaches the Saint-They Chapel.
Right: a view of the rugged coastline.

One definitely wouldn't want to be out on these waters in a storm.

Having had enough for one day, we headed back to Quimper and basically "vegged" for the evening. We also had to do a bit of planning for dealing with our reduced time at our next base, Vannes. 

Cleaned Up History

One of the realities of present-day tourism in many of the "significant" historical sites in Western Europe is the high-level state of repair of the old buildings and the relative cleanliness of the environment. That makes sense, of course, for who would want to spend lots of time and money exploring a country's medieval heritage if it were completely, historically accurate--a muddy, unwashed, and manure-laden peasant reality that has been depicted in movies such as the opening scenes of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." As travelers, we just have to try not to romanticize the "good old days" too much when admiring a beautiful castle or a cute little village in all of its half-timbered glory.

What made me think about this topic was reading a first-hand account of English travel writer Arthur Young's 1788 visit to the village of Combourg, which was our first stop on Monday, July 20, as we made our way in the rental car to our base in Dinan. Combourg is often called "the birthplace of Romanticism" because the local castle was the family (and childhood) home of France's most famous Romaticist writer, François-Rene de Chateaubriand. Young experienced a Combourg that was "one of the most brutal filthy places that can be seen" and a "hideous heap of wretchedness," although he did admit that it had a fine lake. Not exactly the clean, cute, and quaint village that we encountered.

Upper: The Castle of Combourg was built between the 12th and 15th centuries on a hill overlooking the village. It remains under the ownership of descendants of F. Chateaubriand's older brother.
Lower Left: Lon prepares to brave the market-day crowds in the attractive main street where granite
buildings were interspersed with a few 16th and 17th century half-timbered houses.
Lower Right: a depiction of author Chateaubriand on one of the local buildings.

After a quick stroll through the village and a picnic lunch in a park by Lac Tranquille (tranquil lake), we were on our way to the village of Léhon. It straddles the Rance River on the outskirts of Dinan and was a good place to while away an hour until we could check into our Airbnb. Léhon is the site of the Benedictine Abbey of Saint Magloire. It was founded around 850 but destroyed by Viking raiders in the 10th century and subsequently re-established a few decades later. Several cycles of decay, restoration, and building redesign have produced the composite monastic compound that exists today: still part medieval, but with substantial portions that are centuries newer. 

Upper left, lower right: different perspectives on the cloister, totally rebuilt in the 17th
century, but maintaining some medieval capitals. Upper right: the Priory Church, originally
erected in the 12th century, but with subsequent changes and restorations. Lower left: Us, 
backed by two monastic outbuildings.

We splurged on our stay in Dinan, because who can turn down the chance to stay in a castle? The Chateau de la Conninais is a historic manor built in the 15th century, then extensively remodeled and rebuilt during the 16th, 18th, and 19th centuries. Several of the existing structures have been converted to residential apartments, and it was in one of these apartments that we spent four nights. 

The main manor house of the castle, its appearance somewhat distorted by the panorama processing.
Our apartment was the window to the left of the entry door; Lon's blue shirt is barely visible. This
was the west side of the castle courtyard. A dovecote is at far left in the photo, a chapel at far right.

This was the view from our apartment. The portal to enter the courtyard is between the
tower on the left and the building on the right. Both structures contained residential apartments.

It was a quiet and lovely place, mostly decorated in contemporary fashion. The reminders of its age were the original Renaissance fireplace (although no longer functioning as such) and a "head knocker" of an old wooden beam that brought down the height of the bathroom door.

Dinan is a preserved medieval walled town, said to be one of the most attractive in Brittany. In the 11th century it was a fortress, but grew from there to become the seat of the Dukes of Brittany. The dukes constructed the town's ramparts in the late 13th century, and these walls were strengthened in the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries. Two miles of ramparts still exist, complete with gates and towers. The old town was built on a hill 250 feet above the Rance River, and a port exists on the river. On Tuesday, July 21, we took advantage of free parking near the port to make our approach to central (upper) Dinan from below.

The Rance River in Dinan forms part of a navigable river and canal waterway
that connects Saint Malo and Rennes. Full passage could likely only be
done by boats with shallow hulls and low headroom. In the top photo, the
ramparts of Dinan can be seen above the lower town buildings.

Bottom: we walked up the less traveled route connecting lower and
upper Dinan, intending to use the more well-known Rue du Jerzual 
for our return to the car later in the day.
Top: the view from the Dinan ramparts over the Rance River and the port.

Dinan is definitely on the tourist route, famed for its abundance of half-timbered houses (over
115). Here, a street musician works on creating a medieval atmosphere with period dress and music. 
The mud of past eras is now well-covered with stones.

The prosperity of the second half of the 15th century allowed the growing
"bourgeoisie class" to flex their political muscle and erect a communal
tower. The addition of a bell and clock in 1507 turned it into a belfry.
Council meetings were conducted there until the Revolution. It looks
straight from one perspective (left), but crooked from another (right). A
few euro allowed us to climb the tower for a bird's eye view (top).  

The Dinan Castle was built in the late 14th century by John IV, Duke
of Brittany. It became a residential fortress very similar in form, 
function, and style to the royal Chateau de Vincennes in Paris (which
we visited during our extended 2023 stay in that city).

The castle keep could be climbed to an observation deck on the roof. Lon was like the
Eveready Bunny; he just kept going and going up. It was a warm day for a climb, so I
decided to take a brief break during my ascent.

The Rue du Jerzual/Rue du Petit Fort route has, for centuries, been the usual way to move between the upper town and the harbor. The streets' artisans and restaurants occupy the half-timbered and granite buildings that line the pathway. The Jerzual gate (upper right) was the former boundary
 between the medieval town and its outskirts. When we'd had enough of the crowds in the upper
 town, we returned to the port--and our car--by this route. Much easier going down then up!

After that day of minimal driving, we were ready to venture a bit further afield the next day and had coastal destinations in mind. Cap Frehel is a headland featuring some of the highest cliffs in Brittany, lighthouses, moorlands, and on the next "cap" (cape) over, a 14th-century medieval castle. We started with the castle, about an hour's drive away from Dinan. Its construction began in the 14th century. It was attacked and then abandoned during the Wars of Religion in the 16th century, and it wasn't until the 18th century that it regained strategic value and was fortified with defensive bastions. It has been under private ownership since the end of the 19th century, and underwent significant restoration in the 1930's.

A steep descent to an adjacent beach gave us a marvelous view of Chateau of the Roche
Goyon, now known as Fort La Latte.

Upper left: approaching the castle, Lower left: the barbican, or fortified gateway.
Right: Lon passing through the gatehouse into the courtyard of the castle.

From the top of the keep is a beautiful overview of the castle compound. To the left, the rocky
beach from which we got our unimpeded view of the castle. To the right, the view of Cap Frehel.
The large building in the middle was the lord's residence, currently occupied.

We had originally thought to walk from the castle to Cap Frehel and back, but the path was closed due to safety concerns as a result of recent fires in that area.

The drought in France has resulted in fires in many places, and apparently Brittany is not exempt. This
was our view as we drove between the castle and Cap Frehel.

Coastal views at Cap Frehel.

Upper: Despite the drought, the colors of the moorland were stunning.
Lower: remnants of German WWII bunkers dotted the landscape.

Lon walks the coastal path. Behind him are two lighthouses on the cape. At left, the Vauban
tower of 1702, considered the oldest lighthouse in Brittany. At right, the modern lighthouse that
was built in 1950 to replace the previous lighthouse that had been destroyed by the Germans in 1944.

We took a slightly circuitous route back to our Airbnb in Dinan so that we could seek out lunch and see a bit more of the coast.

Upper: cider goes together with--you guessed it--crepes at a creperie
in Frehel where we stopped for lunch.
Lower: the beach near Frehel had soft, soft sand. I thought the water
would be cold, but it was fairly temperate to the touch. The lighthouses of
Cap Frehel can be seen on the headland in the distance.

Our route back to Dinan also took us through the town of Corseul, which in Gallo-Roman times of the 1st-3rd C. AD was the capital of the district inhabited by the Gauls known as Coreosolites. I got a quick glimpse of Roman ruins in the town itself, but our actual destination was just outside of town.

The Temple of Mars is the largest Gallo-Roman Sanctuary in Brittany.

Back to Dinan then, to rest up for our excursion on July 23 to the town of Saint Malo. Only 30 minutes from Dinan, Saint Malo is a coastal city and port with old roots, but whose reputation was mostly gained during the 17th and 18th centuries. During that period, when various European wars had damaged trade in Saint-Malo, its fishermen and sailors turned to state-sanctioned warfare to cripple English and Dutch commerce. They became privateers who held official royal licenses to legally attack and plunder enemy merchant ships. This was a vastly lucrative enterprise whose profits were shared with the King of France, and which funded the building of enormous houses and the building of the improvements to the city's ramparts. The privateers were called corsairs, and Saint-Malo gained the name of "Corsair City."

World War II was not kind to Saint-Malo. It was an important and strategic base for the German forces occupying France, and therefore liberating it was an important Allied objective after D-Day. The Battle of Saint-Malo, which took place from early August to early September 1944, resulted in the destruction of approximately 80% of the buildings inside Saint-Malo's ramparts. The granite ramparts, however, remained largely intact. The post-war reconstruction from 1947-1972 recreated the exterior granite styling of the buildings, while modernizing the interiors. The town attracts hordes of tourists every year. 

The main harbor of Saint-Malo, which opens onto the English Channel.

Boats, boats, and more boats in the port at Bassin Vauban, which is
separated from the large harbor by a lock.

The Castle of Saint-Malo and one of the ever-present tourist trains. The Great Keep is part
of the original 15th century construction.

Views along the town ramparts.

Top left: view toward the Cathedral Saint-Vincent.
Top Right: A busy Saint-Malo shopping street.
Bottom: The Shipowner's Mansions, a row of privateer's houses.

The seafront section of the ramparts. Saint-Malo has a large tidal
swing. At this point the tide was still low, but water was starting to return.

To protect Saint-Malo, four sea forts were built according to blueprints of the military
engineer Vauban. Top left: not a fort, but Ile du Grand Be, burial site of native son Francois-Rene
de Chateaubriand. The family castle may have been in Combourg, but he was born in Saint-Malo.
The island can be reached on foot when the tide is out.
Lower left: Fort du Petit Be, somewhat reachable by foot at low tide, but trickier.
Right: Fort National, can be visited at low tide.
The other two forts are not visible in these photos, nor are they reachable by land bridges at
low tide.

An overview of Petit Be and Grand Be. The concrete sided structure is a tidal seawater
pool built in 1936.

Can a town be too pristine? We had that sense with Saint-Malo. It would, however, be fascinating to return when it was less crowded and when there might be a possibility of more dramatic and extreme tidal swings. At those times, water height differences can apparently exceed 12 to 13 meters.

After our morning explorations and lunch, we decided to head back to Dinan. We'd had enough sightseeing for the moment. More significant though, was that we'd located the local multiplex not too far from our little castle apartment, and we were able to get tickets to see "The Odyssey" in English. So, although we'd missed out in Rennes, the tickets in Dinan were about half the price, and we thoroughly enjoyed being off our feet for three hours. And we thought the movie was good, too. The only cultural oddity was that all of the freshly popped popcorn that the theater had at their concessions counter was sweet; what we would call "kettle corn" in the U.S. Not a fan, so we settled for a cellophane bag of salted popcorn, but it just wasn't the same. No whining though, because that is definitely a "first world" problem.