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On the beach
Oct. 22nd, 2022 04:28 pmI was sorry to leave Roscoff, but we had plans - not all of which turned out to be completely weatherproof. After Wednesday's glorious sunshine, we woke to rain, and the threat of strong winds later. A gap between showers gave us a chance to visit the Chapelle Sainte Barbe on the edge of town - it's not about the chapel, it's about the viewpoint - but we decided against the Exotic Gardens (even though at least some of these are within greenhouses).
This left us with time in hand on the way to our next hotel, and we decided to spend it in Saint Pol de Leon, which was on the way. All I knew about Saint Pol was that it is in the centre of the Breton vegetable farmlands - the cauliflower and artichoke capital, says the guidebook. It turns out that it also has two spectacular churches. The one about which the guide is most enthusiastic - it has the tallest spire in Brittany - was closed, but we plunged out of the rain into the cathedral, and had a lovely time looking at its many curiosities. .But it makes sense to defer describing these until I can post more photos, so I'll add that to the list of things-to-post-later...
Instead, some pretty pictures: the otherwise delightful bookshop between the two churches didn't have any postcards of those curiosties, but I was rather taken by their cards from the Eor Glas Studio: have a browse. I like the sleeping sailor best (yes, even better than the puffin).
Today we are in Carantec, at the seaside. The little town occupies the center of a headland, and all roads lead down to the sandy beaches which fringe its perimeter. We walked down to 'the port', which seems to consist of two restaurants, a shelter where you can sit and enjoy the book exchange until the rain blows over, and a causeway which allows you to walk across to the island for about two hours on either side of low tide. Then the path climbs up between the houses, and down again to the next beach; it's a bit of the GR 34, in fact, the sentier des douaniers (I've probably wondered before what it says about our two nations, that the English prefer to ascribe footpaths to smugglers, the French to customs officers...):
Photo chosen because, although it doesn't make the most of the beach itself, it does show some of the most impressive of the local architecture. There are plenty of more conventionally seaside houses: Carantec would seem to have attracted people who could afford to build themselves holiday homes with a sense of fun. But this little ensemble takes the biscuit.
This left us with time in hand on the way to our next hotel, and we decided to spend it in Saint Pol de Leon, which was on the way. All I knew about Saint Pol was that it is in the centre of the Breton vegetable farmlands - the cauliflower and artichoke capital, says the guidebook. It turns out that it also has two spectacular churches. The one about which the guide is most enthusiastic - it has the tallest spire in Brittany - was closed, but we plunged out of the rain into the cathedral, and had a lovely time looking at its many curiosities. .But it makes sense to defer describing these until I can post more photos, so I'll add that to the list of things-to-post-later...
Instead, some pretty pictures: the otherwise delightful bookshop between the two churches didn't have any postcards of those curiosties, but I was rather taken by their cards from the Eor Glas Studio: have a browse. I like the sleeping sailor best (yes, even better than the puffin).
Today we are in Carantec, at the seaside. The little town occupies the center of a headland, and all roads lead down to the sandy beaches which fringe its perimeter. We walked down to 'the port', which seems to consist of two restaurants, a shelter where you can sit and enjoy the book exchange until the rain blows over, and a causeway which allows you to walk across to the island for about two hours on either side of low tide. Then the path climbs up between the houses, and down again to the next beach; it's a bit of the GR 34, in fact, the sentier des douaniers (I've probably wondered before what it says about our two nations, that the English prefer to ascribe footpaths to smugglers, the French to customs officers...):
Photo chosen because, although it doesn't make the most of the beach itself, it does show some of the most impressive of the local architecture. There are plenty of more conventionally seaside houses: Carantec would seem to have attracted people who could afford to build themselves holiday homes with a sense of fun. But this little ensemble takes the biscuit.
