We are booked into an airbnb in Arradon and arrive from Nice, two hours late and to pouring rain. It says on our new rental sat nav that it is 1hour 30min until our new destination but 2o minutes into the journey we are crawling at a snails pace with no end to the red line in site. A quick google maps on the phone and a short cut is to be had if we exit left and dodge the melee. Which we do, along with others in the know, and we disturb a sleepy little side village with our perceived urgency or simply distaste at standing still. Feeling smug at the 15 minutes saved we arrive at our destination still in daylight at 9.30pm at night.
We had no dinner and then no supplies for breakfast so a compulsory fast was in order as the next morning we headed to Vannes. The rain hit again and as with the next few days we became expert at storm dodging. It’s already nearly lunch and we break our unforeseen fast by escaping the rain in a little side street cafe where we eat quiche and salad and finish of course with a cake. Mine was lemon and although not quite as good as Cindy’s orVal’s it certainly passed the muster.
Vannes
We once again catch the little tourist train as it’s undercover and covers a lot of ground as we bump and jolt our way around the city. We pass the castles and moats and the wash house along the river, along with the crooked half timber houses that lean awkwardly in all directions.
The wash house, where woman did the washing under the long veranda.
With wet feet and enough shower dodging we decide to get some supplies and head home for the day. The evenings are so long that we bike into the village and have a vin and Beire in the square before heading home for beans and mashed potato and stew, that we had bought at the market, and it was delicious.
The next day we head to Quiberon. We don’t know why but just because. I have to add here about our new car. It’s a Toyota hybrid and it’s sneaky quiet. Our sat nav is really annoying. Over the years we have Tom Tom who was like the English butler, and then everything in between but now we have Lady Di. She’s very posh but by the time she gets the words out she is too late. “Exit now” she proclaims ans we have just passed the point of no return. It always seen as if it is momentarily after the exit. It’s like she plays head games with us as we try and anticipate her next move. WH is unfazed as he does another loop on the round about and we methodically count the exits, or he slips down the wrong one and then goes back for another go. I have stopped braking on my imaginary brakes even whilst heading down roads where the sat nav track looks like an ECG recording, and not a good one. WE (I know I am not driving but am excellent co-driver and navigator, at least far better than lady Di) are excellent French drivers now, who don’t even blink at two way, one way streets (that’s streets that can only fit one car on that has two way traffic on) we pull in and out, reverse, drive into the long grass and hope there is no ditch. So on our way to Quiberon we have added St Cado which looked like a pretty place to stop on the way. We wind down the two way, one way roads and I am glad the only thing we encounter is a lady in gumboots pushing her toddler on his bike, and we slow right down, but as our sneaky little Toyota sidles past her she gets an enormous fright. Having past the only traffic of a lady and toddler, Lady Di tells us we are at our destination. Which is a couple of houses in the middle of nowhere. So that’s a fail.
Back to Quiberon. It’s a nice drive and we get there in time for lunch and find a restaurant by the sea. I have scallops and WH has Moules and frites, both of which are excellent. There is a small ro-pax that does a trip out to an island, its a 45 minute trip and it costs Euro 39.50 for an adult, euro 216 for a small car and 650 euro for a camper. Cook Strait eat your heart out. We stroll around and with a bit of a google we find there are two St Cado and we reset Lady Di and off we go. This time it doesn’t disappoint as we find the little island reached by the causeway bridge.
We are yet again dodging storms but the bonus is that the sky is dramatic. When we first arrive the sun is still bright and there are ladies sitting on the causeway sketching, a quick glance at there talents of the pencil sketch coming to life. On our return from the island circumnavigation they are already onto watercolour and it looks like a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.
We sit on the deck of the bar with a drink and watch the storm clouds brewing and finally decide we need to get moving so we head back to the car. With precision timing the skies open with a hail storm and we are grateful that we are undercover as we watch everyone bolt for cover and head for home.
