We
met
Michel
and
Christiane
near
Dinan
and
spent
a
week
exploring,
walking
and
eating
(mostly)
very
well.
Our
gite,
at
La
Garaye,
is
part
of
the
renovated
outbuildings
surrounding
a
(very)
ruined,
very
elegant
chateau.
It
fell
victim
to
the
French
Revolution,
apparently.
Hard
to
imagine
having
something
like
this
in
your
back
yard:
The
young
couple
that
owns
the
gites
also
runs
a
catering
business,
and
offers
space
for
seminars,
wedding
receptions
and
the
like.
Amidst
all
this
they
are
raising
three
perfectly
adorable
and
polite
children
and
a
couple
of
lovely
dogs.
We
arrived
on
Tuesday
in
time
for
supper.
Wednesday
we
drove
about
two
hours
to
Carnac,
which
Paul
and
I
remembered
very
fondly
from
20
years
ago.
It
was
a
center
of
prehistoric
activity,
and
boasts
one
of
the
most
megalith-studded
sites
in
Europe.
When
we
visited
in
the
early
90s
we
walked
freely
among
approximately
3000
standing
stones
set
up
in
about
10
long
rows.
We
also
visited
various
tables
(standing
stones
crowned
with
other
stones,
probably
tombs),
and
dolmens
(think
Stonehenge
post-lintel-post.)
It
was
one
of
the
high
points
of
our
visit
to
Brittany
and
we
were
eager
to
see
it
again.
Well,
quite
a
disappointment.
The
standing
stones
are
now
fenced
off,
and
somehow
chest
high
sturdy
green
metal
fencing
really
diminishes
the
impact
of
the
stones.
It
could
be
any
kind
of
half-baked
art
installation.
You
get
little
sense
of
the
weight
of
the
stones
or
the
effort
it
must
have
taken
to
move
so
many
of
them
from
far
away
to
this
place.
(Paul
carefully
took
this
shot
over
the
fence.)
Paul
and
I
did
venture
a
bit
farther
afield,
and
if
we
ever
get
back
there
would
be
a
few
good
hikes
possible,
but
on
the
whole
the
area
was
really
very
touristy.
And
lunch
in
Carnac
was
disappointing:
Michel
and
I
had
oysters,
not
especially
wonderful,
and
Paul
had
a
so-so
chicken
and
frites
dish.
Christianes
fish
was
better.
Im
not
sure
we
ever
went
into
Carnac
when
we
were
there
previously.
Now
its
one
tourist
trap
after
another,
which
unfortunately
is
true
in
many
places
in
Brittany.
Dinan,
however,
was
even
better
than
we
remembered.
We
spent
Thursday
morning
exploring
the
old
section:
Including
a
descent
on
the
steepest
cobblestone
street
Ive
ever
seen:
and
a
view
down
to
the
Rance
River.
A
deliciously
charming
little
city,
with
lots
of
half-timbered
buildings,
a
beautiful
city
tower,
narrow
alleyways,
and
of
course
many
shops.
Not
all
were
selling
tourist
junk,
though
some
were;
Dinan
is
the
regional
capital,
and
there
must
be
money
around,
because
a
lot
of
the
shopping
was
very
high
end.
We
couldnt
find
the
restaurant
we
ate
at
20
years
ago
one
of
our
most
memorable
meals,
as
the
owner
was
trying
for
his
1st
Michelin
star
but
there
appear
to
be
many
good
food
options.
However,
we
left
Dinan
before
lunch
and
proceeded
downstream
to
Dinard.
This
is
a
very
English
city
and
has
been
so
for
almost
200
years.
We
heard
English
as
much
as
French.
Very
much
a
resort
town.
The
beach
area
is
lined
with
upscale
hotels,
a
large
casino,
and
elegant
second
empire
(mid-
19th
c.)
homes.
Theres
a
cement
path
all
around
the
base
of
the
cliffs
on
the
ocean
side.
I
had
remembered,
correctly,
that
its
narrow
enough
so
Im
uncomfortable
walking
along
it,
but
adults,
dogs,
small
children
and
bicyclists
all
use
it
easily.
We
lunched
oceanside
at
the
Casino
Bar.
Michel
and
I
had
mussels,
which
I
found
very
good
but
Michel
less
so.
Mounds
of
frites
Ive
eaten
my
frites
ration
for
the
next
two
years.
Paul
had
an
omelet,
ok
but
not
great.
Christiane
had
smoked
salmon.
Good
muscadet.
Lovely
sunshine.
But
overall
Dinard
leaves
us
cold.
Friday
we
ventured
into
Normandy.
Dinan
is
actually
almost
on
the
border
with
Normandy,
so
our
venture
didnt
take
us
very
far.
We
had
all
been
to
Mont-St-Michel
before
and
didnt
care
to
go
again,
but
we
found
a
walk
that
promised
some
nice
views
of
it
so
off
we
went.
Paul
and
I
hiked
about
10k
out
of
a
little
village,
through
fields
and
then
to
the
beach,
where
we
finished
the
walk
with
about
4
k
along
the
dike
that
is
supposed
to
protect
the
fields.
Beyond
the
dike
are
salt
marshes,
and
a
long
way
beyond
those
is
the
actual
beach.
This
is
clearly
an
area
that
has
been
reclaimed
from
the
sea,
just
like
much
of
Holland.
The
polders
fields
protected
by
dikes
stretch
inland
for
maybe
1k
or
more.
Drainage
ditches
are
ubiquitous,
and
the
windmills
that
line
the
horizon
used
to
be
active
most
of
the
time,
pumping
water
out
of
the
ditches
and
into
the
salt
marsh.
Now,
I
think
most
of
the
pumping
is
done
with
hydraulic
equipment.
We
picnicked
on
the
dike.
Beautiful
weather!
And
we
did
drive
far
enough
for
closer
views
of
Mont
St.
Michel.
That
evening
our
landlord
stopped
by
for
a
whisky
(or
two.)
He
recommended
against
a
visit
to
St
Malo
and
suggested
a
little
village
called
St.
Suliac,
about
halfway
between
La
Garaye
and
St
Malo.
But
Paul
and
I
wanted
to
do
a
good
walk,
so
Saturday
we
first
went
all
the
way
to
St
Malo
and
a
bit
east,
where
the
hikes
book
indicated
a
promising
10k.
Michel
and
Christiane
started
from
the
end
point
along
the
ocean,
which
we
eventually
reached
after
making
a
circuit
out
into
the
country.
Quite
an
interesting
walk,
past
some
really
upscale
housing
developments,
through
fields
and
along
pasture
and
woods
roads
until
we
reached
the
ocean.
Turns
out
that
part
of
the
ocean
section
is
along
the
beach,
really
quite
a
slog
though
the
sand,
so
we
moved
back
onto
the
road
parallel
to
the
beach.
We
cut
off
part
of
the
ocean
path
walk,
as
it
was
the
same
sort
of
narrow
concrete
path
as
around
Dinard,
and
besides
we
were
running
out
of
time.
If
we
did
the
walk
again
wed
start
in
reverse
order
and
turn
back,
I
suspect.
Anyway,
good
exercise
for
all.
Then
we
drove
upriver
to
St.
Suliac,
and
it
was
totally
charming.
Little
stone
houses,
lots
of
flowers
(the
dahlias
all
over
Brittany
were
spectacular),
a
lovely
church,
and
purely
by
accident
we
found
a
wonderful
restaurant.
It
was
the
only
one
we
spotted,
so
we
thought,
ok,
guess
we
have
to
do
this.
Lucky
for
us!
We
entered
into
the
dining
room
where
the
chef
was
grilling
sausages
over
a
wood
fire
in
the
huge
fireplace.
We
sat
outside
on
the
terrace,
completely
enclosed
by
high
stone
walls
covered
with
blooming
roses.
The
place
filled
up
very
quickly,
too.
(Turns
out
its
recommended
and
starred
in
several
of
the
guides,
not
Michelin.)
Gallettes
Breton
crepes
are
the
specialty,
and
wow,
were
they
good.
After
lunch
we
wandered
around
for
more
photo
ops,
of
which
there
were
many.
Sunday
was
the
high
point
in
many
ways.
One
of
the
Michelin
guides
had
recommended
the
small
city
of
Paimpol,
and
mentioned
the
possibility
of
a
ferry
to
the
Isle
de
Brehat,
about
3k
off
the
coast.
The
Isle
is
totally
without
motor
vehicles.
We
thought
both
sounded
like
fun.
Paimpol
was
OK
colorful
harbor,
some
nice
old
buildings
in
the
town
center,
and
a
delicious
croissant
aux
amandes
at
the
boulangerie.
But
the
ferry
ride
and
the
Isle
de
Brehat
were
spectacular.
We
lucked
into
the
45
minute
guided
ride
around
the
island,
which
actually
took
over
a
hour
because
the
tide
was
dead
low
and
the
boat
couldnt
hug
the
shores
of
the
island.
This
coast
has
an
impressive
tide
situation:
it
rises
and
falls
something
like
15
meters
(50
feet)
most
of
the
time,
and
more
when
the
moon
is
right.
When
we
boarded
the
ferryboat
we
walked
down
to
the
end
of
the
pier,
where
theres
a
pole
like
a
telephone
pole.
It
has
a
ladder
attached
to
it,
which
started
about
10
feet
above
my
head.
Caught
in
the
ladder
at
about
10
and
15
feet
above
that
were
strands
of
seaweed.
Makes
you
think.
The
ferryboat
ride
around
the
island
was
great
fun.
Alternately
sun
and
clouds,
breeze
and
still.
Narration
was
in
French,
of
course,
so
I
caught
only
some
of
it.
But
we
could
see
various
structures
on
the
island
as
well
as
the
very
impressive
looking
rocks
that
defend
it.
We
saw
gulls
(one
followed
the
boat,
hoping
for
handouts)
and
cormorants,
and
even
a
seal.
We
landed
on
the
island
at
the
farthest
quay,
a
good
10-minute
walk
to
the
actual
shore.
We
had
a
picnic
with
us,
but
the
question
was
where
to
eat
it.
No
obvious
public
parks,
possibly
because
the
good
folks
of
the
Isle
de
Brehat
want
to
encourage
people
to
spend
money
in
their
restaurants,
not
bring
their
own
food.
We
finally
found
the
campground.
No
table
and
benches,
but
a
good
tree
stump,
and
a
wonderful
view
of
the
ocean.
After
lunch
Paul
and
I
wandered
the
alleys
and
paths
for
a
hour
or
so,
before
heading
back
to
the
harbor
to
find
Michel
and
Christiane.
The
return
ferry
left
from
the
center
quay,
as
the
tide
had
come
up
far
enough
for
that.
The
water
moves
quite
fast
I
can
see
why
there
are
so
many
warnings
around
Mont
St
Michel
and
at
the
mainland,
the
water
was
well
up
the
telephone
pole.
Monday
was
our
last
day,
and
again
at
the
suggestion
of
our
landlord,
we
went
out
to
Cap
Frehel.
Gorgeous
rugged
area,
the
highest
cliffs
on
the
Brittany
coast.
You
can
walk
all
over
the
headland
itself,
and
even
make
your
way
down
to
the
water.
We
saw
a
couple
of
guys
change
into
wet
suits
in
the
parking
lot
and
head
for
the
cliffs
carrying
their
boats
and
fishing
gear.
The
cliffs
are
bit
high
for
my
comfort
level
but
the
others
went
out
to
the
end
of
the
headland
and
got
some
good
pictures.
Then
we
went
on
to
La
Fort
du
Lattre.
There
has
been
some
sort
of
fortification
there
at
least
since
the
8th
century,
though
the
present
structure
dates
only
from
the
18th.
(Thats
one
of
the
hazards
of
being
a
fort,
I
guess
folks
destroy
you
every
so
often.)
Paul
and
Michel
went
down
the
steep
path
to
explore
the
very
well
restored
fort,
which
Christiane
and
I
stayed
topside
and
listened
to
birds,
talked
about
cooking
and
families,
and
generally
amused
ourselves.
Thankfully,
it
didnt
rain
much.
We
unfortunately
(?)
didnt
see
Paul
and
Michel
climb
out
on
the
roof
of
the
forts
tower.
They
report
that
the
view
is
stupendous.
After
that
we
drove
along
the
coast,
climbing
and
descending
its
one
of
those
roads
on
the
map
with
the
little
green
line
indicating
scenic
glimpsing
lovely
beaches,
rocky
shores
and
cliffs
and
little
islands.
We
stopped
for
lunch
in
Les
Sables
DOr-les-Pins,
at
La
Potiniere,
and
had
a
really
great
meal
the
best
oysters
and
moules
of
the
trip.
After
that,
back
to
the
gite
for
packing,
and
a
glass
of
rose
with
our
landlord
and
his
wife.
Wed
love
to
return
to
Dinan
sometime,
and
the
idea
of
a
few
days
on
the
Isle
de
Brehat
is
really
appealing.
Who
knows,
maybe
some
day.