Back on the Road Again

Once again I am out enjoying the excitement of the open road with new and unexpected things around every corner. It has been a long time coming. Being out in the fresh air all day and walking with family and friends, sharing jokes and memories. These simple things have been my cure for the lock down blues.

I stood watching a moorhen with five tiny chicks pottering around a small inlet into a pond and wanted to weep with the joy of the moment. Nearby a Canada goose sat still and calm on a nest watched over by their alert mate. These and other experiences have re-wired my brain and woken up my senses, both dulled by lock down repeats.

We didn’t go far for our first few nights away once we were allowed. Burrs Country Park Caravan and Motorhome Club site in Greater Manchester is well placed to allow us to meet up with some people we’ve missed. A 30 minute walk into Bury and we were soon sitting outside Katsouris wonderful cafe eating tasty Greek food and catching up with an old friend from Salford as if the last 12 months hadn’t even happened. Later, our son and daughter-in-law drove up to Burrs Country Park and we walked through the countryside with them and enjoyed coffee and cake from the cafe as if everything was normal. Inside my heart was singing.

With a day to ourselves we cycled along the number six National Cycle Route to Salford and Clifton Country Park. The sun kept on shining and this surprisingly green and rural route turned up a reed warbler nibbling seed heads on the banks of the old canal, roe deer hiding in tall reeds, their erect pointed ears giving them away and a friendly cafe in Radcliffe that served us a delicious white chocolate and cranberry iced bun under a blue sky.

Moving on to Crowden we packed sandwiches and a flask and walked some of the Pennine Way. The weather was perfect and it was this and two other walkers who were the talk of the trail. We had wondered if anyone was walking this Long Distance Footpath at the moment and along came a young couple with a tiny baby who were spending their joint parenting leave backpacking the whole route. We admired their energy and wished them well.

After a week being back in the big wide world we had our first pint of draft beer in a sunny pub garden in Castleton. My drinking partner proclaimed that his pint of Chieftain IPA from Ireland was the best he’d ever had but that might be more to do with the months without a proper beer!

Roll on some more mini adventures!

Lock Down Loneliness

As we all emerge from Lock Down Three, we will be keen to focus on looking forward to the new world and the ‘new normal’ as it is called. I am the sort of person that looks to the future, rather than the past and I certainly don’t want to think back to the dark days between January and March this year. I have come through all the lock downs and tiers physically healthy but mentally mangled. Lock downs never got any easier and I found Lock Down Three particularly tough and lonely.

Readers might live in a friendly street where your neighbours smiled across the road as they clapped on a Thursday night in Lock Down One and continue to check in regularly via a Street WhatsApp Group. I imagine this is the sort of street that, in Before Coronavirus days, held a communal street party. I don’t know where these streets are but in all the places I have lived [just seven streets in five places so a limited sample] I have never experienced anywhere like this and mostly hear about them in the media and soap operas. Do they really exist in the real world?

Thursday nights at 20.00 during Lock Down One were quiet here on our Morecambe road. No one shamed us into going into our front garden to clap for the NHS. We were therefore taken by surprise when a Zoom call with two friends in a wealthy part of Greater Manchester had to be cut short so that they could join in the clapping. They risked being socially shunned by the neighbourhood if they didn’t show their faces!

Wherever we have lived we have always got to know our neighbours but we had only lived in our Morecambe home for four months when we were confined to its four walls. We had met some people at tai chi classes and were on chatting terms with the residents either side of our house but there was still some way to go to feeling a part of the community. Although the sunny weather during Lock Down One meant we did meet a couple more neighbours from across the street while we were out in the front garden I certainly wouldn’t say that it was a chance to settle into a community. Most people around us are retired and the majority of our neighbours are single households so we are surrounded by a generation who are terrified of catching Covid-19 and who kept themselves to themselves. Any chances to get to know them were fleeting and superficial. The only positive in the first lock down was spending time with our immediate next door neighbour. We saw him pretty much everyday and with all the time in the world we enjoyed long chats over the fence.

Lock Down Three has been a totally different scenario. Even our chatty neighbour was curled up on his sofa in the dark winter months of January and February and we have hardly seen anyone. Thank goodness in January our tai chi teacher eventually got to grips with Zoom and for the last three months our weeks have revolved around his entertaining Wednesday classes.

When we moved to Morecambe we thought we would meet people in our new town by joining some clubs or groups, attending some events and seeking out like-minded folk. The steps we had made towards this before Lock Down One kicked in were small. It isn’t that I want to be part of a community WhatsApp group but Covid-19 has certainly made settling into a new town more difficult.

We know we are lucky to have each other, lock downs have been very lonely for single people. But life has been so different for everyone. For the most part, and for the first time in our lives, geography has determined our social life. Most, but not all of our good friends are in the north west of England but as lock downs and tiers came and went we were constantly cancelling plans. In Lock Down Three we couldn’t even see two long-standing and close friends who live locally. In normal times we would meet as a foursome for a walk but the rules only allowed two people, not two households, to even take a stroll in the open air.

Lock Downs have been lonely experiences for me and they must have been miserable for others. As I mentioned at the beginning of this post I always look forward, rather than back. This can be positive and also a cause of anxiety. Even as we take the small steps to a restriction-free life, in a corner of my mind is a dread that another lock down will come out of the blue! And so, I am seizing the day and can’t wait to be back on the road again on Monday 12 April.

One Step at a Time out of Lock Down Three

As Lock Down Three restrictions eased on Monday 29 March 2021, our priorities were to meet our son and daughter-in-law and visit the Lake District. I was impatient to see them but made myself wait until Tuesday 30th and a better weather forecast for the four of us to meet up and hike up some of the 214 Wainwrights. The day’s three Wainwrights were ones we had climbed before but both our son and daughter-in-law have taken up Wainwright Bagging and the walk included two new fells for them to tick off. I didn’t care where we were, I was just so happy to be with them both again. I was grateful that they were prepared to spend their first day back in the hills waiting for me as I huffed and puffed up the slopes and gingerly straggled behind on the steep rocky descents. We walked up Heron Pike, Great Rigg and Fairfield, chasing the low cloud that magically rose before us as we ascended, making it a glorious and unforgettable walk. There was a lot to catch up on and we talked about all manner of nonsense, about hydrogen cars, shared friends, Line of Duty [of course], plans for the rest of the year and recommended books and I couldn’t stop smiling the whole day!

Being able to meet our son and daughter-in-law and take a walk with them, catching up, laughing at familiar jokes, sharing memories and making new ones, sitting by a tarn having a picnic lunch together and trying to name the surrounding mountains are all things we used to take for granted. It has been a long three months since we have been able to do these simple things. For three dark months it has been just the two of us walking locally and so I was keen to make the most of the next step forward from Lock Down Three and start to feel as if I was living again.

Not content with one day of walking in company, the next we met two long-standing friends. My aching legs, after the steep descent from Fairfield, were happy to have an easier walk around the gorgeous Silverdale coast and through Eaves Wood. I was pleased to find that my ability to chatter hadn’t been lost in lock down and I barely drew breath for the whole four hours. The day wasn’t without incident and will, no doubt, become part of our collective memory, ‘Do you remember when we all nearly drowned?’ It was a high spring tide and we sat in the sunshine having our picnic lunch, looking across the sea from a low rock in The Cove near Silverdale. We were chatting as we looked over the expanse of Morecambe Bay to Grange over Sands and remarked on the speed of the incoming tide. Looking around we suddenly realised that our route back to the shore was cut off by water! While those with longer legs could traverse the cliff to return to dry land, I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my trousers and laughing had my first paddle of the year through knee-high water! It was such a warm and sunny day my feet dried naturally as we finished our lunch sprawled out on the pebbly shore.

The sun kept shining and the Lake District fells and more Wainwright Fells were calling. The next day we drove back up the M6 and set off walking by ourselves over Hartsop Dodd and Gray Crag. After two sociable days I felt energised and on much better form that I had been for three months. It felt good to be walking with just my partner in life and hiking. It stayed dry but we had to shelter from the bitingly cold wind when we stopped for lunch and we were wearing many more layers than we had the day before. Back at the Blue Bus we enjoyed a mug of tea and a slice of cake before driving home.

Our final walk of the week was along Morecambe’s stunning promenade to Heysham with two inland Lancashire friends who had been missing the sea. The sun shone once again and the nattering never stopped. A particular delight on our walk was Glebe Garden, next to St Peter’s Church. The garden was packed with colour and buzzing with insects and butterflies in the sunshine.

We have more walking with friends days planned over the coming week during our countdown to returning to camping. I have taken a few big steps out of the mind-numbing Lock Down Three rut I was in and it is starting to feel a bit like normal!

Ride: Cycle The World

Some of my time in Lock Down One was spent writing about two impressive European cycle rides for a new DK Eyewitness book, Ride: Cycle The World. Writing about two very different cycle routes took me back to trips to stunning inland Spain and historic Germany. Austria and Hungary. I hope my contribution inspires others to pack a saddle bag and pedal into the distance.

Ride: Cycle The World came out in April 2021 and features 100 amazing cycle routes from across the globe, 32 of them in Europe. This is the book that could inspire you to grab your bike and cycle some ups and down from the south of Wales to the north or around the dramatic Applecross Peninsular. Maybe Paris to the magical tidal island of Mont St-Michel appeals to you or just packing a couple of t-shirts, shorts and sun cream for some summer cycling between the island of Croatia that sit in the turquoise-blue Adriatic. Further afield the epic rides featured include Bolivia’s infamous Death Road and island hopping in Japan.

Each contributor has written about what they know. The 1,228 km Danube Cycle Route from the source in Germany to Hungary’s Budapest is a classic ride that takes cyclists through five memorable countries and three capital cities, connecting a diversity of peoples and landscapes.  It can be completed in one long ride or [like us] in sections. A largely traffic-free cycle path, this is a perfect bikepacking trip for beginners; you are always pedalling downstream and the river’s banks burst with significant and fascinating places making the really tough part fitting everything in! Popular with Germans and worldwide there will always be another cyclist to chat to over a beer or a coffee and share riding adventures. Should you be unlucky and have a breakdown, there is always a passing experienced cyclist with a better tool kit than you!

My second route was a shorter but equally wonderful cycle ride through inland Spain. At 129 km you could cycle the Ojos Negros Via Verde downhill and in a day if you are in a rush but I prefer the less hurried uphill version. Climbing steadily inland from lush Valencian orange groves through changing scenery and charming small towns, the Ojos Negros take the cyclist to Teruel, a World Heritage Site. The via verde or greenway follows a disused railway line and is pleasurable leisurely cycling through attractive off-the-beaten-track Spain. Teruel is the place to immerse yourself in Aragon’s Mudéjar Art. This elegant fusion of Islamic art and European-Christian styles flourished from the 12th to 17th centuries and is characterized by intricate geometric patterns of terracotta bricks and glazed tiles. Teruel has three outstanding Mudéjar towers and the Cathedral’s decorative wooden ceiling is the Sistine chapel of Mudéjar art.

A fantastic book to buy for yourself if you’re looking for inspiration for your first bikepacking adventure, this is also the perfect gift for any intrepid cyclist in your life. As well as descriptions of each ride, maps and practical information the book includes tips for the best places to eat and not-to-be-missed highlights and practical guides to help you choose a bike and the kit you need.

Trapped in a Lock Down Beverage Routine

These days of Lock Down Three are passing by in a blur, each one much the same as the last until suddenly it is Friday and bin day! I stumble into wakefulness every morning remembering I am still in the same place and I yearn for the thrill of lying in our campervan thinking about where we are and where we are going next and opening the blinds to check the weather. But even in our Blue Bus we have a routine and my day always begins with a mug of tea. This first cup of tea, a mixture of Assam and Earl Grey, is the best of the day and is usually followed by a second over breakfast.

In non-lockdown times, after those two beverages, my day in drinking could go anywhere, depending on where we are and what we were doing. But after 12 months of mostly being stuck at home I have become someone I never thought I would, I am stuck in a routine [or rut] that, on closer inspection, revolves around drinks.

At home the morning trundles on and we brew coffee at around 10.30 [or, to mix things up, visit Morecambe’s wonderful Stone Jetty Cafe at the weekend], have a glass of water with lunch and sup a post-lunch digestive of peppermint and licorice tea from Teapigs. By about 17.00 we are ready for our day’s last mug of tea and a lockdown routine has become enjoying this with a piece of homemade cake. Later we’ll share a bottle of beer, have a glass of wine, a gin and tonic OR a small glass of Spanish Vermut, unless it is a no-alcohol day [about twice a week] when we have to make do with water. Our last drink of the day is in the evening when I have a soothing Barleycup and my less-susceptible-to-caffeine partner has another coffee. We fit local walks, gardening, reading and TV viewing around all this liquid refreshment.

Will breaking out of this routine when we can travel again be a shock to my hydration system? For a day in the hills or cycling we mostly carry just water, taking plenty of it for regular drinks stops. If it is cold I find it comforting to stick a flask with a hot drink in the rucksack for one of our pauses. If we’re in a town or village, part of the joy of travelling is also discovering something new and different; maybe a decadent hot chocolate in a cafe or a lunchtime local beer sitting outside a bar. Relaxing outside the campervan with a mug of tea or a glass of good red wine can’t be beaten and, more than once, a fellow camper has strolled over and shared a favourite liqueur with us.

I don’t like getting a peek of myself becoming this creature of habit, she isn’t a familiar figure and she doesn’t sit comfortably alongside me. But, it seems, this is what I have become in these Covid-19 times. Niggling in the back of my mind is an anxiety that I might never rediscover my previous spontaneous personality. Will I suffer withdrawal symptoms if I don’t have my morning coffee or afternoon peppermint tea? I don’t think this foreboding about the future is mine alone. I sense that we all feel we have changed in the last 12 months and many of us are not sure how we will occupy the new world. Some of our transformations might be for the good but some of us may emerge more apprehensive and guarded.

Morecambe: More Than A One Horse Town

We hadn’t lived in Morecambe many days before we noticed the horses. There are always horses around town, in the fields, occasionally cutting the grass on the play area and often on the roads. Just five minutes walk from our home are stables with horses and ponies of all shapes and sizes. I treat the large horses with the respect they deserve but I like to stop and pet the little ones when they are outdoors. Horses have become so much of our Morecambe scene that we hardly give a second glance these days when we notice a horse grazing by the roadside or see someone with a pony and sulky, a lightweight two-wheeled single-seat cart, go galloping by but just occasionally Morecambe’s horses gift me with a story worth telling.

Firstly some background. Morecambe is home to one of the UK’s largest settled Irish Traveller Communities and they own many of the horses. This community are British with Irish ancestry and are distinct to Roma and Gypsy communities. Together they are referred to as the Gypsy, Roma and Traveller [GRT] community and judgement of and prejudice against this group of people is widespread. The recent shameful story about Pontins holding a list of names to exclude travellers staying at their holiday parks is an example of how endemic prejudice of the Gypsy, Roma and Traveller community is.

I don’t know much about horses but from what I can see many of the horses in Morecambe are neither sleek race horses or large and strong shire horses; they mostly seem to be Gypsy Vanner or Irish Cobb horses. These originated in Ireland and were bred by Irish Travellers as robust and reliable horses with a good temperament suitable for pulling wagons. When ridden it is generally bareback.

The Cumbrian market town of Appleby-in-Westmorland is less than an hour’s drive from Morecambe and it is here that the annual Appleby Horse Fair is held, generally in early June each year. Living in Lancashire, you generally know when this big event is coming up as you spot members of the GRT community on the road making their way there. Said to be the largest gathering of its kind in Europe, around 10,000 people meet at Appleby-in-Westmorland to trade horses, wear their best clothes and see friends. They are joined by around 30,000 visitors keen to witness the traditions and culture. Horses are prepared for trading by being bathed in the River Eden and groomed. The fair also has stalls selling clothing and horse-related goods. The flashing lane runs through the fair and is the perfect spot for spectators to watch the horses being put through their paces as the horses are ‘flashed’ or shown off by sellers to potential buyers.

We recently had a slightly too close an encounter with just one of Morecambe’s horses. We were walking towards the canal on one of our lock down days out. It was a cold day and as we strode out along a quiet lane we saw three guys ahead. They were wrapped up against the frost and standing with their arms folded, watching a fourth man riding a horse bare back and with no riding hat. The man and horse galloped towards us and we moved onto the grass verge to give what was clearly a lively horse plenty of space as it went by. Carrying on, the demeanor of the three spectators made us aware that the horse and rider had turned around and were returning behind us. The three were shouting encouragingly and I wondered if this was a practice for the flashing lane at Appleby Horse Fair or Morecambe’s own version. Again, not wishing to spook the horse, we calmly moved to the side of the lane. The man and horse passed within a horse hair’s breadth and this time it was clear to even two people who have never ridden more than a seaside donkey that the rider was not completely in control. Just clearing us, the horse bucked and succeeded in throwing the rider onto the road. Not a man to give in, the rider clung onto the reins and we could only watch, horrified as he was dragged along the tarmac. Amazingly, he hung on and eventually calmed the horse enough so that the shaken and battered rider could leap back on, no mean feat with no stirrups. ‘Is it the rider or the horse?’ we asked as we walked by the three onlookers. ‘We’re trying to decide,’ one of them replied smiling in a knowing way, ‘But we think its a bit of both!’

Walks from Stonehaven Caravan & Motorhome Club Campsite

The town of Stonehaven on the east coast of Scotland is a perfect place for a few days away. It has an open and pleasant Caravan and Motorhome Club site that is just ten minutes walk from the centre of the small town and even nearer to the sea. This great location makes it a popular campsite to stay at and it had been on our wish list for some time. We eventually got to stay here between 2020 lock downs and found some great walks from the site.

The seafront to the harbour

This is a level short walk of around two miles that is perfect for the evening you arrive. Following the promenade around the bay, the path crosses a bridge and continues with the beach and the sea to one side and the houses of Stonehaven to the other. The path becomes a boardwalk as you get nearer to the old town and the harbour. Take your time looking at the different interesting metal sculptures along the boardwalk. These quirky sculptures of a lighthouse, boats and an aeroplane have fish crewing the boats and a seahorse looking out from the parapet of the lighthouse. Finally you will reach the picturesque harbour which is a lovely place to potter around, maybe stopping for a drink in a pub or cafe or just looking at the boats.

Dunnottar Castle & woodland

This is a stunning 5.5 mile [around 9 km] walk with plenty of places where you will want to linger.

From the campsite walk along the seafront to the old harbour [see above] and pick up the signed path behind the houses that climbs steeply above the town. At the top you will want to stop, admire the view and take photographs of the view over the harbour and the town. Continue along the well-used undulating path along the cliffs. The impressive war memorial built in 1923 to remember all those who lost their lives in the First World War is your next point of interest. It is worth leaving the main path and walking up to the memorial for more panoramic views.

The cliffs are stunning along this stretch of coast and you will soon have Dunnottar Castle in sight. This spectacularly-sited ruin has cliffs on three sides and is reached by a series of steps. There is an entrance charge for the castle, should you wish to visit. Alternatively, it is worth making the effort to walk down the steps to the pretty bay below the castle and watch the surf or have a picnic.

From Dunnottar Castle the walk crosses the road and passes a large wooden hut with a number above the door and an old radio station. The hut remains from the Second World War admiralty radio station. After the war the radio station was used to monitor radio calls from ships and in the 1950s the polygonal concrete building, reminiscent of an airport control tower, was built. By the 1970s much of the radio station’s work revolved around the oil drilling platforms, handling radio link calls. On the 6 July 1988 the staff at Stonehaven picked up the distress call from the Piper Alpha oil platform following an explosion. 226 people were on the platform at the time and 165 of these died in the disaster, plus two men from the Sandhaven, a supply vessel involved in the rescue. As satellite and mobile technology improved, the radio station was no longer needed and it was closed in 2000.

Reaching the A957, we turned left to the car park and walked into Dunnottar Woods but you might find a different path into the woodland. However, you get there take your time wandering through the trees and following the stream and you could find some wooden sculptures, a cluster of fairy doors and in the autumn some real mushrooms.

You emerge from the woodland back into Stonehaven. Follow your nose and you will be back at the seafront and a choice of ice-cream shops.

Chapel of St Mary and St Nathalan

If you turn left out of the campsite there is a pleasant walk of not more than 1.5 miles. You soon leave Stonehaven and are beyond the houses. The narrow path quickly climbs from shore level through the bushes and grass to the top of the cliffs. If you follow this narrow and sometimes overgrown path you will eventually cross a bridge and reach the ruined chapel of St Mary and St Nathalan surrounded by an old graveyard.

The chapel has an enviable position overlooking the sea and beyond its walls is the golf course. Cowie Castle once sat on the clifftop nearby but little can be seen of it.

After exploring the chapel and reading some of the fascinating gravestones, you can return back to the campsite the same way or stay high on the path above the cliffs and emerge onto the main road that runs above the campsite. Follow the road downhill until just before the campsite and turn onto the steep path that takes you to Amy Row, a pretty road back to the campsite.

Ten years of Travel Writing & Reading With A Writer’s Eyes

I was so excited when, way back in 2011, my name topped my first article published in MMM. Although it has happened many times since, the thrill of seeing my name in print still remains. Having sharpened my pen working as a volunteer on a community newspaper in Preston and writing my own travel blog, I dipped my toes into paid writing. That first article was a short light-hearted piece about campsite showers. It was the following year that I had a full article published about our campervan and my first travel article was published in 2013. From this slow start I gradually became a regular contributor for MMM and more recently for Campervan Magazine and occasionally other publications.

As well as contributing, I also subscribe to MMM and Campervan Magazine and I continue to read them cover to cover every month. I read with interest what is new in the campervan and motorhome world and I am constantly inspired by the wonderful trips other travel writers make in their ‘vans. If someone else’s trip sounds like just the sort of thing we would do I will scan and keep a copy of the article for future reference before the magazine goes into the recycling box.

Although digital copies are available, I spend so much of my time looking at screens editing photographs, writing and reading some of the excellent blogs out there, I prefer to get a hard copy that I work my way through over a mug of tea. I might curl up in a chair in the afternoon and read MMM or Campervan Mag but I most often read them during our leisurely retirees breakfast time.

For me, writing and reading go hand-in-hand. This isn’t so that I can copy other writers although I do find that reading good travel writing sparks ideas in my head. I will make connections about places and themes to write about next; I might get ideas for how I can structure an article or construct sentences differently in the future; and I learn how I can improve my writing to interest or inform readers better. Every writer has their own voice that shines through the pages and I can only be myself as I write but that doesn’t mean it isn’t useful to see how someone else does it.

Reading good travel writing inspires me to be a better writer but bad writing can help me recognise where I might make mistakes too. As Anne Lamott pointed out:

One reads with a deeper appreciation and concentration, knowing now how hard writing is, especially how hard it is to make it look effortless. You begin to read with a writer’s eyes. You focus in a new way. You study how someone portrays his or her version of things in a way that is new and bold and original.

Writing is never effortless. Typing just 2,000 words that are coherent, absorbing and represent an authentic experience for a travel article takes considerable time and effort and I don’t always meet the standards I set for myself. I am in awe of anyone who has the ability to write enough words for a whole travel book and I am grateful that many wonderful authors have the imagination to write novels. Although I think I still have something new to say, I am clear about and happy to accept my limitations and I don’t intend to put myself under the pressure of writing anything longer.

Travel writing is more than having an engaging style and good grammar, it also has to take readers to a place and give a flavour of the destination. I enjoy telling stories from places we visit, sharing nuggets of history that interest me and I include a variety of activities so that each article and blog post is relevant to different readers. We would happily spend an entire holiday walking and cycling but I try to be inclusive and varied. The starting point of each of my travel articles is a trip of our own, I pay my own way and the priority is that we have a good time! So no matter how much readers might like to vicariously experience sky-diving or deep water swimming through one of my travel articles I won’t be giving those things a go just for the sake of good copy!

If I make mistakes, I am sorry but few people are perfect. If my writing looks effortless then I have done a good job. And always, thank you to everyone for reading!

Bringing Staffordshire to Lancashire

In normal BC [Before Coronavirus] times we would make regular trips to Leek in Staffordshire, partly to visit family but also to stock up on the culinary delight that is as essential to anyone brought up in north Staffordshire as fresh air. This is, of course, the Staffordshire oatcake.

In Leek there is still a small shop that is mostly oatcakes. These oatcakes are soft but substantial, they are full of the taste of oats and are perfect rolled around some melted cheese for a warming lunch. Oatcakes freeze well and we will always come back from a trip to Leek with enough oatcakes to fill our small freezer. You can occasionally buy something called Staffordshire oatcakes in the supermarket but these lacey and flimsy things are just a hopeless substitute for the real thing.

Of course, in these days of Lock Down Three, a trip to Leek for oatcakes in no way counts as an essential trip, whatever my stomach might think! My dad kindly suggested posting me some but that seemed an extravagance for such an inexpensive but bulky and weighty item. The only option was to bring Staffordshire to Lancashire and make our own.

I did make Staffordshire oatcakes many years ago and we both remembered something tasty but thick and chewy. This time I used our heavy cast iron frying pan that fries pretty much everything beautifully and worked hard to get a batter that was just the right consistency to spread around the pan.

Ingredients for 5 or 6 oatcakes (depending on how thin you get them)

150g oats – whizzed in a nut grinder or food processor for a short while until they are finer

150g flour – use either white or white and wholemeal mixed

7g dried yeast

1 teaspoon sugar and salt to taste

300ml milk (I used soya milk)

300 ml water (boiled and cooled)

Put all the dry ingredients in a bowl and mix together. Add the cold milk to warm water, you want a temperature that it isn’t too hot to put your fingers in. Whisk the milk and water into the dry ingredients. The batter should be fairly runny. Cover the bowl and leave this in a warm place to bubble up for about an hour.

After an hour or so the batter will be frothy and before cooking you should give it a stir. I added a little more water at this point so that it was a thick pouring consistency (like thin porridge). In a good thick-bottomed frying pan, melt a knob of butter or margarine and swirl this around to cover the pan. I use a soup ladle to measure out the oatcake batter and about two ladles worked well for one oatcake. Ladle the mixture into the frying pan and, if it doesn’t spread out itself, carefully spread it around the pan with a knife [I use a long baking palette knife] so that your oatcake isn’t too thick. You will notice the mixture that is in contact with the pan will cook quickly but you have time to move the runny / uncooked mixture sitting on the top to the edges. After two to three minutes, turn the oatcake over to cook the other side (you can check it is cooked by peeking).

Once both sides are cooked, place the oatcake to one side and cook the next until all your batter is used up.

We like to enjoy our oatcakes with cheese. If you are going to eat your oatcakes as soon as you have cooked them [and who can blame you] simply put your favourite cheese [grated or sliced] along the centre third of each oatcake, roll it up and keep them warm in the oven until you have cooked them all.

If you are working with cold oatcakes, then you can warm them in the oven or under the grill. Add the cheese as above and for the oven roll them up, place on a baking sheet and warm for about 20 minutes until the cheese has melted. Under the grill, leave the oatcakes open and grill them for about five minutes and then roll up and eat. A dollop of your favourite brown or tomato sauce on the side compliments this simple dish and you can spice it up by adding tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, gherkins or pickle [or all of these and more] to the cheese.

Some people eat oatcakes with a full English cooked breakfast and others eat them with sweet fillings but this latter combo has never been tried in our house or in any of our families houses!

Walking & cycling in Brittany

In 2020 we spent three weeks touring around beautiful Brittany. We walked for many kilometres, particularly on the GR34 coastal path and enjoyed some pleasurable cycling on quiet lanes. We found stunning cliffs, sweeps of white sand and plenty of quiet corners to just sit and enjoy the scenery. Brittany proved to be a fantastic region of France for a varied activity-based holiday.

The list of campsites we stayed at is on a separate blog post. In this longer than usual post I have shared information about the wonderful walks and cycle rides we enjoyed to inspire your own trip to Brittany. Apologies if I have missed a typo in all these words!

Walks & Cycle Rides

  1. A stroll around bays and rocky headlands of Île-Grande, near Trebeurden
  2. Walking among pink granite boulders from Tourony on the GR34
  3. Finding solitude on foot and by bike on the Pays Pagan in Finistère
  4. A walk through history along the cliffs at Pointe de St Mathieu
  5. Walking around the ancient stones and the harbour at Camaret-sur-Mer
  6. Picture postcard Locronan and the Bois de Nevet walks
  7. Above the rocks & crashing waves at the Pointe du Van
  8. Cycling on the Cap Sizun to botanical gardens and Menez Dregan
  9. Coast and wetland walks around Beg Meil in southern Brittany
  10. Rolling along the Nantes-Brest Canal on two wheels
  11. Spectacular coastal walking from Saint Coulomb near St Malo
  12. A circuit of the walls of Saint-Malo

We started our journey on the northern coast of Brittany, heading west and then gradually making our way south around the coast to Beg Meil, south of Quimper. We returned north, driving through inland Brittany to the north coast.

1. A circuit of Île-Grande, near Trebeurden

A perfect evening stroll from Camping L’Esperance near Trebeurden is across the rocky and sandy bay towards Ile Grande.  If you have longer, then the circuit of Ile Grande [around 8 km] is a perfect and satisfying walk.

It was a warm August day when we set off but a sea mist was still rolling along the coast. Crossing the road from the campsite, we headed across the sands. The route you take here will depend on the tides and how much you enjoy paddling. Ile Grande, as the name suggests, is an island but you can often skirt around the sea and cross to the island without using the bridge. On the island we turned right, following the path through a varied landscape. At times we were surrounded by tall bushes, at other times we were on sandy paths just above the coast, walking around deep bays and out onto rocky peninsulas. There were butterflies and wild flowers, sculptures and information boards. The bay by the sailing club was busy with paddle board and wind surfing lessons in full swing.

More than half the way around, the League for the Protection of Birds have a centre near the Pointe de Toul-Ar-Staon that you can visit. By the island’s campsite there is an excellent restaurant We only stopped for drinks here but you could have lunch and it is worth booking as it is popular. We ate our picnic lunch in the sunshine on a sheltered bay full of boats before skirting the salt marshes around the final large sheltered cove. 

After our circuit we walked into the sleepy village and followed signs uphill to an allée couverte, a late Neolithic burial site. This good example in the centre of the island has two large slabs resting on rows of upright stones. Local legend tells of dwarfs who lived here but they didn’t make an appearance on our visit and we carried on up to the outcrop of rocks that gave us a 360 degree view of the island.

2. On the GR34 Sentier des Douaniers from Tourony Port, Tregastel

The Sentier des Douaniers or GR34 is apparently France’s favourite Grande Randonnée (GR) or long-distance footpath and I soon came to realise why. The path hugs the Brittany shore for around 2,000 km (1,243 miles) from Mont-Saint-Michel to the port of Saint-Nazaire on the River Loire.  Known as le Sentier des Douaniers, the path was created in the 18th century to help customs officers apprehend smugglers and it winds around many promontories, inlets and bays. It was our companion on many of our Brittany walks. 

From Camping Tourony we walked around the sheltered and picturesque port and along a popular section of the GR34 around the Côte de Granit Rose, named after the areas distinctive and attractive pink granite boulders. We stopped to watch the boats sailing in and out of the harbour and admire the rocky islets, including one with a neo-gothic castle.   The path wound through shady pine trees and large boulders to Plage St Guirec, a bustling sandy beach with shops and restaurants. 

The next section of the GR34 is simply stunning. In the sunshine, the sea was blue, each bay seemed prettier than the last and the stacks of pink granite boulders added drama to the views. We passed the Phare de Men Ruz, also built of the local granite, that dates from 1948 and is still in use. The footpaths are well marked and visitors are managed so that the colourful heather, gorse and wild flowers can flourish.

This is a lovely enough route to make retracing your steps no hardship, or, like us, you can cut inland back to St Guirec on a path that follows the boundary of the Le Ranolien campsite. We ate excellent ice-creams from Histoires de Glaces on the beach before retracing our steps to Tourony.

In the evening we walked to Tourony beach, a perfect spot for some evening tranquility. We climbed over the massive pink boulders and pottered along the soft sand in the evening calm.

3. Finding solitude walking and cycling around the Pays Pagan near Guisseny

There was so much to like about Camping Vougot, I am surprised we managed to tear ourselves away. We had driven west into Finistère and found quiet roads, deserted beaches and wide views, just what we like. To top this off, the helpful campsite owners gave us information about local walks and cycle routes.

On our first day we followed Cycle Route Two, an easy 23 km circuit from the campsite. This used quiet roads and tracks, through fields of cauliflowers and cabbages.  The landscape is dotted with farms and holiday homes and small campsites for two or three caravans. This is the Pays Pagan, a perilous stretch of coastline where sharp needles of rock lurk just under the water making navigation difficult for boats even on a clear day and when the sea mist rolls in many ships have been lost here. Legends tell stories of wreckers, who lured ships onto the rocks and looted their cargo and that is easy to believe in this remote area although it isn’t clear how reliable the legends are.

The GR34 comes this way, following the rugged bays. On the northern coast we watched surfers waiting for the waves on long sandy beaches. Near Kerlouarn we sat on a rocky headland between a large sandy bay, Plage Roc ‘h ar gonc, and a small sheltered cove and had our lunch. A memorial to a Canadian boat torpedoed in 1944 was nearby.  Our return went inland via a pretty church, Sainte Egarec, surrounded by pink hydrangeas and with a well reached by steps and looked over by a saint’s statue. 

From the campsite, the walk around Etang du Curnic, a local wetland and nature reserve is a pleasant way to spend an hour or so. We spotted coots, swans and a heron on the water and a shy water rail dipped in and out of the tall reeds. In the evenings we would walk the ten minutes to the beach to watch the sun drift into the sea. The waves gently lap against the shore and sanderlings, turnstones and ringed plover feed at the water’s edge.  As we walked back to the dunes, sand hoppers softly flitted around our feet.

The Circuit de Milin Ar Raden, is a 10 km walk from the campsite that is a perfect mixture of countryside and coast.  You could, if you wanted, split this up into two walks.  We began by walking along the lanes between the fields of horses and plots for caravans near the campsite and then climbed the steep green hillside beyond the coast.  We followed sunken paths through dense hedges and bracken and stopped to see La Fontaine Sainte Claire before descending by a gurgling stream where an old mill was hidden in the trees. Taking the paths around the Etang du Curnic we followed the tall dyke enjoying the views of the beach to our right and the ponds to our left. We were back on the GR34, following the coast around a rocky headland and onto the long stretch of white sand at Plage du Vougo. At the end of the beach a track bought us back to the campsite.

4. A walk through history along the cliffs at Pointe de St Mathieu

We drove through the quiet countryside of Finistère to Pointe de St Mathieu that overlooks the Bay of Biscay and the Atlantic and the entrance to the port of Brest. This is a popular destination but there is plenty of parking.

The star attraction here is the juxtaposition of the grey stones of a ruined abbey with a tall slender bright red and white lighthouse.  Wandering around the ruined abbey is free and you can pay to climb the lighthouse. I stood in the shade of the old church among the stone columns, looking up at the towering lighthouse. On foot we explored the dark craggy coastline. Signs tells the story of numerous ships and submarines lost off this coast and old gun lookouts remain from war time. Gannets and cormorants flew along the blue sea and sailing boats found a safe course between the rocks and in the distance we spotted the Brittany Ferry to Spain.  Beyond the abbey is the National Memorial to Sailors.

On our return we stopped at Fort de Bertheaume, that sits on an island now accessible by a bridge but in the 17th century it was reached by an aerial gondola.  The site was fortified by Vauban in the 17th century and is strategically important as it guards the entrance to the port at Brest. Fort de Bertheaume was used by Nazi soldiers in the Second World War and the area wasn’t cleared of the mines until the 1990s, when it was opened to the public.  If the bridge is too tame, you can recreate the original access to the fort by taking the zip wire and via ferrata across to the island for the fantastic views out to sea and across the harbour.

5. Walking from the ancient stones to the historic harbour at Camaret-sur-Mer on the Crozon Peninsular

We headed south to the Crozon peninsular, parking above Camaret-sur-Mer near the Alignements de Lagatjar. The 60 stones here are arranged in rows at right angles to each other and the grassy site is a perfect place for a picnic.

It is only a short walk from the stones into the bustling resort of Camaret-sur-Mer but there is plenty to see and you’ll want to take your time.  Before you head for the town, begin with a walk out to the cliffs and the atmospheric ruins of the Manoir Saint-Pol Roux. Home of the poet Saint-Pol Roux this baroque turreted mansion overlooking the sea was occupied by the German army in the Second World War and bombed by Allied Forces.

In the town we began by exploring the back streets. These old lanes are lined with picturesque cottages adorned with colourful flowers in window boxes and bougainvillea plants trailing overhead. At the harbour we admired the boats and the pretty cafes and restaurants.  Camaret-sur-Mer’s historic sites are on the harbour wall. Here there is a row of large wrecks in a boat graveyard and a pretty church that has model ships hanging from the ceiling. At the end is the highlight, the deep pink Vauban Tower. This 17th century polygonal defensive tower with a moat, looks over the entrance into the harbour at Brest, facing Fort de Bertheaume.

6. Picture postcard Locronan and the Bois de Nevet walks

Locronan is a gorgeous and picturesque inland village that knows it.  It’s cobbled streets, lined with charming grey stone cottages lead through intimate squares to the stunning Place de L’Eglise.  The village has been used as a film location many times and is packed with tourist shops. We were staying at the campsite on the edge of the town and on our first day followed the town walk from the map the campsite had given us.

It is certainly worth walking up the hill from the Place de L’Eglise for the views over the town. On this route you can follow pretty paths around the manor house and back into Locronan. Walking downhill from the town centre we found the attractively-situated Chapelle Notre Dame Bonne Nouvelle with a fountain outside. I slipped inside this simple chapel to see the striking modern stained glass. We followed a sunken lane back to the bustle of the town, bought ice-creams to eat in the square and then delicious Breton cassis cakes from the traditional bakery to eat later with a mug of tea back at the van.

Our visit coincided with one of the regular evening artisan markets that go on until late at night. We returned in the evening to stroll around the stalls of baskets, local food, jewellery and toys and enjoy the music and entertainment.

The campsite had also given us a map for a 10 km walk and the next day we set off to more or less follow this. We detoured to see the Chapelle Ar Zonj and the nearby viewpoint across the countryside to the coast. The little chapel has an interesting stone staircase by the gate.

We easily picked up the lane on the 10 km walk from the viewpoint but got slightly lost beyond here. But carrying on along the lane we found the path that goes around the campsite. We walked along shady sunken tracks between stone walls and hedges and quiet lanes towards Bois de Nevet.  In the forest we picked up delightful paths through the lush woodland.  After lunch near the forest HQ we followed a path around the forest edge, finding a pretty pond, but missing our way and resorted to Google to get back onto the road to Kerbléon. From here the route was on lanes by industrial units and farms, gradually coming back round to Locronan. If we ever return, I think this walk would be improved by spending longer exploring the beauty of the Bois de Nevet and returning to Locronan from there, missing out the lanes and industrial areas.

7. Above the rocks & crashing waves at the Pointe du Van

On the Cap-Sizun peninsular, Pointe du Van and Pointe du Raz point like craggy fingers out to sea. We parked at the large parking area on Pointe du Van and walked around the headland, beginning with the stone chapel where we had views across the sea to Pointe du Raz and its lighthouse. It was breezy on this exposed bit of coast where rocks jut out into a blue sea full of white frothing waves. The paths wind among abundantly growing sweet fragrant heather. Before heading back to the ‘van we carried on a little further to two windmills, one built from stone and wood and the other just stone and both with restored sails. The whole walk is about 4 km.

You could walk down to the Baie des Trépassés [Bay of the Dead] that huddles between the Pointe du Van and Pointe du Raz. We opted to drive and walked along the wide sands to explore the rock pools under the cliffs. This bay is popular with surfers and the tide was coming in, creating rolling waves.  The surfing looked both fun and terrifying. 

8. Cycling on the Cap Sizun to botanical gardens and Menez Dregan

A campsite with a cycle route running by it ticks boxes for us and so we stayed a few nights at Camping Plage Kersiny. Once again we had a lovely beach nearby for watching the sunset, this time a rocky bay where curlews and black headed gulls fed among the thick seaweed on the rocks, dodging the spray from the waves.

It is only about a 16 km round trip from our campsite to Audierne and the lovely Parc Botanique Ar Paeron but give yourself plenty of time as there is lots to see on the way. At first we were following quiet residential roads where we stopped to look at the view along the coast. The cycle route signs took us to the sheltered river mouth and harbour where the scene across the river to the charming white buildings of Audierne was lovely. We sat having our picnic while we watched people messing about on boats.  The bridge across the river is slightly further inland and crossing this we walked the bikes along Audierne’s flower-lined promenade that was busy with cafes and shops.

Beyond the bustle of the town we went to the end of the harbour wall and the lighthouse, looking across a sandy beach. We continued cycling along the craggy coast until we spotted signs for the Parc Botanique Ar Paeron and decided to investigate. The lane climbs steeply up the hillside and after cycling down a track we propped the bikes up outside a small hut / entrance.  We paid €4.50 each and were given a map and sent off to explore this peaceful botanical gardens.  The planting is relaxed and the gardens have a charming natural feel, although many plants are labelled with their names and continents.  There were some beautiful and unusual species in flower and bees hummed amongst the beds and butterflies flitted from one colourful bloom to another. This garden is a perfect haven from the coast. We cycled back the same way.

Cycle in the opposite direction from the campsite and you will reach Menez Dregan in Plouhinec around 4 km along the coast.  We left the coastal cycle route and picked up a mountain bike route which turned out to be a great choice, taking us off the roads and onto a green lane, a stone wall to one side and views down to the rocky coast and beaches on the other. Fragrant bushes lined the route and it was idyllic.  We rejoined the road in time for Plage de Guendrez, a large sandy beach that is popular with surfers and swimmers.

Menez Dregan sits on the headland above this beach. This archaeological treasure trove is a large and complex stone necropolis from the Neolithic period.  Built in many phases the site has several dolmens.  Below the burial mound a Palaeolithic cave in what is now a sea cliff is being excavated.  This cave was home to humans when this area was about 5 km from the sea and the cave looked out over grassland. 

9. Coast and wetland walks around Beg Meil in southern Brittany

Our campsite at Beg Meil was close to the small town with bars and restaurants. It was also perfect for some walking. With the huge expanse of Kemil Beach just a meandering ten minutes walk away, you will probably head there first, reaching the sea at the western end of the 4 km stretch of Kemil Beach. Looking along the sands you would be forgiven for thinking you have arrived on a tropical island. The sand is white and pine trees line the bay, under a blue sky this is paradise.

Turn left and walk through the trees to the next bay, Plage de Kermyl. Here rocks edge the sands and more woodland, rocks and sandy bays follow. We walked around the coast to Pointe de Beg Meil, passing large stone houses that have enviable coastal outlooks. At times the footpath resembles a maze, with hedges on either side of us and limited access points to the sands. At the Plage des Oiseaux we descended stone steps through the weathered granite boulders to the sands. On this peaceful beach we sat listening to the lapping of the waves and watched stand up paddle boarders who gently followed the coastline. Further out a fishing boat was working and black headed gulls searched for food. I looked across the sea to the town of Concarneau and searched the sands for pretty shells.  At the stone jetty in Beg Meil we turned inland and walked through the shops and cafes back to the campsite.

We enjoyed a fantastic longer walk of about 10 km when we turned right at Kemil Beach, heading for Mousterlin. On the outward route we walked inland picking up some of the many and popular paths that wind around the wetlands, woodland and streams.  In this lush landscape of dark pine trees and grassland it is hard to believe you are just a few hundred metres from the sea. We spotted egrets on the wetlands and a coypu in one of the pools.  At Mousterlin we stopped for drinks at the cafe overlooking the beach before walking back along the 4 km stretch of Kemil Beach. Low dunes border the sands and I paddled through the surf, watching the swimmers and kite surfers and wind surfers who were taking advantage of a breeze.

10. Rolling along the Nantes-Brest Canal on two wheels

The small village of Le Roc-Saint-André near Ploërmel has a campsite that is right on the Nantes to Brest Canal. This makes it perfect for some easy off-road cycling. The picturesque town of Josselin with its castle is around 35 km round trip or an easier ride is to Malestroit, around 18 km there and back.

Either way the cycling is idyllic on a wide level path. The canal runs through countryside and is lined with trees.  Each lock is colourful with baskets of flowers and watched over by a lock keeper.  Boats gently putter by on the canal and the boating people wave as they pass.  Watching herons, swans and ducks will detain you.

We were lucky to arrive at Malestroit, a pretty little town, on market day. We stopped for coffee and then wandered around the stalls that sold everything from boxes of disposable masks to fruit and vegetables.  There were food stalls with paella and couscous dishes too.  The market is in a square surrounded by attractive timber-framed houses, many with ornate carvings in wood or stone.

The sunshine disappeared and the wind began to whip the stall canopies in the air; we realised it was time to head back, racing along the canal trying to beat the rain. We were about five minutes away from the shelter of the ‘van when the shower began.

11. Spectacular coastal walking from Saint Coulomb near St Malo

Camping des Chevrets was the perfect place for two hikers, there was so many options for walking we were spoilt for choice. Being on the coast you could obviously turn either left or right and we walked inland too.

You don’t have to undertake a long walk from Camping des Chevrets. For a short outing head down to the beach which is the perfect place to watch the sunset or the paragliders that skim above the trees. If you’re tempting to walk a little further then l’île Besnard, not an island but a rocky peninsular now attached to the mainland by a sandy spit of land will occupy an hour or so.  It was breezy and showering as we climbed the cliffs and walked to the headland in an anti-clockwise direction. Overlooking Rothéneuf Bay and harbour the walk became more sheltered and by the time we climbed down to a beach and salt marsh it was summer once again. Rock samphire grows in abundance here as well as purple rock sea lavender. On the salt marsh there were little egrets, oystercatchers, sanderlings, ringed plover and turnstone. 

Another short walk is around Pointe du Meinga, another headland, this time to the right of the beach.  The stony and rocky path around the point is undulating and at times narrow and precipitous, the vegetation giving a clue to the prevailing winds. On the windy side gorse and heather and hardy white sea campion dominate.  On the sheltered side there is bracken, pine trees and tall hedgerows. A path crosses the headland back to the beach and the campsite if you don’t want to retrace your steps.

Our first longer walk [about 14 km] from Camping des Chevrets was to the strange Rochers Sculptes beyond Rothéneuf. At low tide you can walk across the sands, crossing a river over an old concrete walkway covered in seaweed and walking under the cliffs topped with pine trees.  Rothéneuf has a harbour full of boats and plenty of big houses and the waves are channelled through the narrow gap between the mainland and l’île Besnard beyond the harbour. From Rothéneuf we picked up a path above the sea cliffs, occasionally sheltered by high hedges, to a tiny chapel.  Below was a tiny bay reached by steep steps and rocks with a handrail to make it possible and here we sheltered from the wind. It wasn’t much further to Les Rochers Sculptes. These sculputres of figures, faces and animals were created by a priest at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. The priest had a stroke and unable to carry on working spent 15 years carving these sculptures from the granite on a sloping finger of rock. Some sculptures are intertwined and complex, others are simple stand alone heads. The paths between them are narrow and uneven and I was constantly aware of the sea below.  We walked further along the coast to Plage du Val, a small sandy bay between rocky headlands overlooked by attractive grey stone houses before heading back.  On our return the tide was high and we could only walk so far along the beach at Rothéneuf before taking the GR34 high tide variant. This part of the walk had a different atmosphere through pine trees on soft ground and we crossed a small and overgrown dam before scrambling between hedges and brambles on a narrow path back to the bay below the campsite.

Setting off inland we followed quiet roads, green lanes and paths to the village of Saint Coulomb, often following a local MTB route.  We reached the Etangs Ste Suzanne, a large fishing lake surrounded by woodland and divided by a road bridge. We sat on a picnic bench here and watched the great crested grebes.  In the fields were corn and cabbages and the hedgerows were full of ripe blackberries. Saint Coulomb, which took its name from the monk who landed here in the 6th century, is a tidy village with a few shops and a cafe. Around the village are a number of historical manor houses or malouinières built by wealthy shipowners from Saint-Malo.

Our final walk from Camping des Chevrets was the best and the longest at 16 km. The sun was shining and we were following the GR34 along the coast towards Cancale and Pointe du Grouin.  Once we had left the campsite we were away from the roads and saw few people for the morning. Occasionally we noticed someone sunbathing in one of the sandy coves we walked by. In between the bays we were walking above craggy cliffs and lichen-covered rocks with views across the sea or through sharply fragrant pine woodland.  In sheltered corners we were surrounded by bracken and wild flowers and hordes of butterflies, including peacocks and red admirals.  At Plage du Verger there were more people, not surprising as this large beach has an island with an 18th century fort at one end.  You could walk back from here [about 19 km round trip] or catch the bus back to the campsite. We opted to carry on to Pointe du Grouin, a further 6.5 km, on a path that was steep in places but had fantastic views back to Plage du Verger and across to the headland. Pointe du Grouin is a honeypot destination with gift shops and cafes, an orientation table and big views. We caught the bus back to the campsite and treated ourselves to ice-creams and beer at the beachside cafe.

12. A circuit of the walls of Saint-Malo

Our last walk in Brittany was around the old walls of Saint-Malo. We parked our campervan on some on-street parking on Avenue Louis Martin that has ticket machines. This was about 1 km from the old walled town. The ramparts of Saint-Malo are a magnificent walk of 1.75 km, with views out to blue sea dotted with rocky islets and forts. Reaching the harbour we walked along the harbour wall and could see our Brittany Ferries ship waiting for our evening sailing. The compact and crowded city inside the walls has buildings of three or four storeys above narrow cobbled streets. We had our last holiday crepes in a shady square and toasted the beauty of Brittany and its fantastic walking and cycling.