We could hear rain in the night and when we emerged at 7.30 the sky was dramatic. Huge inky black clouds and big patches of vivid blue sky. The drive from La Rochelle takes us north across the vast flat salt marshes of the Vendée criss-crossed with channels and rivers. You can see the weather coming from the West for miles. Fabulous - everything in high contrast. The rain held off - at least until we were safely in the café in Luçon. Then the deluge! But only for about ten minutes. And the roads outside town were bone dry. That was the pattern for the day...menacing storm clouds scudding among sunny blue skies, every now and then a downpour but brief and largely untroubling.
As we neared the St Nazaire bridge we veered off to visit a village up river sort of opposite the gas processing plant. It’s always looked interesting from its place on the map.
It was, quite. A wooded park with river walk, smart painted houses, small lighthouse and terrific views.
The light was amazing and the river a wonderful sludgy oily brown. Dead calm.
Lunchtime! Eek it had no restaurants.
We toyed with the idea of going down to St Marc but decided it was too fiddly. Looking at the map I spotted a likely alternative - a coastal peninsula the other side of Guérande - home of The Salt and honey pot extraordinaire!
We got to Guérande OK. Piriac sur mer and La Turballe were signed in enormous letters off the main road. What could possibly go wrong? Once into the network of roads surrounding Guérande and its turreted walls, signs became invisible. All we saw were some pale green boards saying Toutes Directions in 2 point type. These lead to confusion not Piriac! We got back to main road and started again. This time, our eye was in and we discerned that one of the pale green signs did say Piriac. All was well.
We motored on. But having reached La Turballe decided to play safe and stop there. Good call - several seafront caffs, boat repair yard, fishing port, and, ta da! Views of Le Four (Croisic) lighthouse on the horizon. You might notice a shadowy giant wind turbine behind the lighthouse.
This is Floatgen, France’s first floating wind turbine at sea. 80 metre blades. It sits on a concrete caisson anchored by six nylon lines and has been in operation since autumn 2018.
Moules frites and île flottante/far breton washed down with a bolée of cidre, followed by a bracing walk round the harbour.
Who or what is this Accost?!
Then it was the long slog up to Roscoff via the fast road to Lorient. We got there at 6.15 and wandered about for a while pondering whether to get on board early. Decided that would be throat-cutting so booked at Surcouf for dinner. In the interim we discovered that both Héron and Héron emporiums had closed. Woe. But dinner was ace. 30 euros menu with oysters, tartare de poisson, tagliatelles St Jacques, apple sorbet with calvados and tarte aux pommes. Plus a most original glass of Pouilly Fumé served out of a phial that was then presented to you to take home! So that’s it. We are home to pouring rain but the Judas tree is in full flower and pheasant was cock cocking at the door within five minutes. Customs didn’t spot the violas and petunias so they are drinking in the English rain.
