Sunday, July 21, 2019

On Brittany time

Silver Sands

Because we’re on the road and, in fact, driving from Brittany to Normandy today, meaning Friday, I’m going to be short on words and rely on images to tell this story. The net of it all is that we have loved Brittany and will miss it way too much. It’s hard to leave this beautiful part of France and the new friends we’ve made in Pierre Yann Guidetti’s home nestled in the pines a scant half mile from Keremma’s six-mile beach. Most times you’re more than ready to head home and this time I was sorry to leave.

Sea grass framing Brignanon

As a consequence a trip back to Brittany next year is already in the planning stages. A fella gets a little anxious when he joins 11 strangers in a house with 2-1/2 bathrooms. That happily proved to be of no consequence.

WWll German bunker above the beach in Keremma

As you know we don’t travel without a private chef. So, we imported Chef Nico from Paris. Where else? Nico’s eclectic menus surprised us every lunch and dinner and before dinner each night he described the recipe and its origins in poetic detail. I could get used to it.

It’s a special experience when you’re thrown together with eleven strangers and find that you like every single one. When all become friends it's a treasure.

Among our social set Brittany is unknown and that’s a pity. Each village we visited was more beautiful than the last and the people were smiling and open everywhere we went. I liked Brittany every bit as much as Provence. The architecture, some of it medieval, was so consistent that it felt like a movie set that transported you to another time and place.

I have much more to say but am bleary with fatigue as I finalize this post from the gracious Pullman Rouissy Hotel at Charles de Gaulle. A capacious room and a well-served dinner were just the thing for a couple of aging road warriors in need of respite.

Tractors till the fields and tow boats to the water.

I was asked for the highlight of eight days in Brittany and, to tell the truth, there were many. But the best times were running alone along the silver strand from Keremma to Brignanon. Almost all of these were taken in running shoes, shorts, a tee shirt and a bottle holster. A pocket camera completed my assemble.

Since I saw myself as the official photographer for the Class of 2019 I took several thousand record shots that have yet to be processed. They will be serviceable I’m but these black and whites made shortly after dawn or after the sun set at 10:00 pm are the ones I’ll treasure.

More to come.

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