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Heading for the ferry
Aug. 24th, 2011 10:24 pmThe last time we sailed with Brittany Ferries was two years ago, to and from Brittany.
After our night in Roscoff, we had booked two nights in Dinan, because it was the right distance from Saint Malo for the morning ferry, and we'd passed through before and found a good hypermarket and wine shop to stock up before leaving France - plus, we liked the look of the place. This had confused our hosts in Roscoff, who were accustomed to their guests (particularly those who booked through Brittany Ferries) sailing out of Roscoff. But we had another day's scenic drive ahead of us.
My memory of the day has dissolved into a silvery mist. That's partly the weather, a real end-of-the-holidays melancholy sea-fret, partly the light reflecting from the water - the estuary beside which we picnicked (at a nature reserve which was firmly closed for the season) shone mirror bright under a grey sky. But my memory too is hazy - if that's the word for a collection of perfectly clear fragments which have somehow got jumbled out of order, and which I am now reconstituting with a map beside me. I was placing Cap Fréhel out at the tip of Finistere: such a magnificent lighthouse must surely be jutting out into the open ocean? But no, it's on the north coast, shining into the Channel. We climbed to the top of the tower, but the day was so hazy there was no view, just the horizon dissolving into the rain and the gulls perching on top of the lower, older light.
This was fun, but the real delight of the day came as a complete surprise. The time had come to stop meandering along the coast road and go more directly to our destination. Inevitably, in a little town only a few miles from Dinan, we found ourselves delayed by roadworks, inching slowly down the high street. I glanced idly over to my left:
and barely had time to register that surely that was a Roman town over there, before the lights changed, the traffic unjammed, and we were away. We went back next day, and explored: this was Corseul, a major Roman town and capital of the Gallo-Roman province of Coriosolites. The excavated remains, adjacent to the mairie, have been made into a little park, tended by an imaginative topiarist. Not far away are the even more impressive remains of the temple of Mars, in the middle of the fields.
But how did we manage to fit into that next day - as well as the Roman remains - some intensive, if not entirely satisfactory, supermarket shopping (the wine shop we had remembered was still there, but closed on Mondays; there was, however, an organic supermarket) and an extensive walking tour of Dinan: the upper town, the lower town, the ramparts...? I can't imagine, but there is photographic evidence. And I had completely forgotten the shop whose name combined two of Britanny's major tourist attractions, the Biscuiterie du Graal.
And once we had found the Grail, what could we do, really, but come home?
Pictures of Corseul; photos of Dinan.
After our night in Roscoff, we had booked two nights in Dinan, because it was the right distance from Saint Malo for the morning ferry, and we'd passed through before and found a good hypermarket and wine shop to stock up before leaving France - plus, we liked the look of the place. This had confused our hosts in Roscoff, who were accustomed to their guests (particularly those who booked through Brittany Ferries) sailing out of Roscoff. But we had another day's scenic drive ahead of us.
My memory of the day has dissolved into a silvery mist. That's partly the weather, a real end-of-the-holidays melancholy sea-fret, partly the light reflecting from the water - the estuary beside which we picnicked (at a nature reserve which was firmly closed for the season) shone mirror bright under a grey sky. But my memory too is hazy - if that's the word for a collection of perfectly clear fragments which have somehow got jumbled out of order, and which I am now reconstituting with a map beside me. I was placing Cap Fréhel out at the tip of Finistere: such a magnificent lighthouse must surely be jutting out into the open ocean? But no, it's on the north coast, shining into the Channel. We climbed to the top of the tower, but the day was so hazy there was no view, just the horizon dissolving into the rain and the gulls perching on top of the lower, older light.
This was fun, but the real delight of the day came as a complete surprise. The time had come to stop meandering along the coast road and go more directly to our destination. Inevitably, in a little town only a few miles from Dinan, we found ourselves delayed by roadworks, inching slowly down the high street. I glanced idly over to my left:
and barely had time to register that surely that was a Roman town over there, before the lights changed, the traffic unjammed, and we were away. We went back next day, and explored: this was Corseul, a major Roman town and capital of the Gallo-Roman province of Coriosolites. The excavated remains, adjacent to the mairie, have been made into a little park, tended by an imaginative topiarist. Not far away are the even more impressive remains of the temple of Mars, in the middle of the fields.
But how did we manage to fit into that next day - as well as the Roman remains - some intensive, if not entirely satisfactory, supermarket shopping (the wine shop we had remembered was still there, but closed on Mondays; there was, however, an organic supermarket) and an extensive walking tour of Dinan: the upper town, the lower town, the ramparts...? I can't imagine, but there is photographic evidence. And I had completely forgotten the shop whose name combined two of Britanny's major tourist attractions, the Biscuiterie du Graal.
And once we had found the Grail, what could we do, really, but come home?
Pictures of Corseul; photos of Dinan.
