Quimper to Camaret sur mer

 We woke to rain this morning, and quite a bit of it. But after breakfast it eased a bit so we packed up and headed out of town. We had less than 100km to go today so pretty easy. 

The first leg was to a very old town called Loncronon. 

Incredibly old and the church there dates back to 1430. It is still pretty much as it was then, in fact the whole town is very original. I did notice one or two wooden beams with steel underneath to stop them falling down.I wonder if our buildings will be around in 1100 years time? 


 The town itself it full of art and craft shops. The tour buses hadn’t arrived so everything was closed. We are in the heart of Brittany which has Celtic origins. There is a Brittany language separate to French, not widely spoken but it is still alive. 



Translated - workshop of weaving - sadly closed today. 

The rain persisted and I’m happy to report that Robyn’s new raincoat passed the test. ( Mark has jacket envy now and wants a new jacket) The road was really good today so no drama with the wet weather.

As we got near our destination the sun came out and it has been fine all afternoon. Camaret sur mer is a little fishing village. 

Not much here but a marina and a nice beach. Plus an old church and a fort that protected the port from invading ships. Had its own moat and drawbridge. 



Patron Saint of motorcyclists - he was an Irish missionary who lived here in Britany particularly in this area. Very coincidental that I took the photograph. I translated it later not quite sure of his connection to motorcycles. Apparently every year in June they have a motorcycle event here. 


We ordered sardines for lunch, different from what we are used to, a bit bigger, they come gutted but whole and the bones are crunchy. Robyn just couldn’t bring herself to chow down on the heads. 

After we ate and had a wander we checked into our hotel. Very nice by our standards. Robyn decided to have a couple of hours of me time and I went for a walk to an old fort, a bit like the fortifications you see around Wellington, but made of stone and about 100 years older. 

We booked into the hotel restaurant and as you will see in Robyn’s photos we are roughing it a bit.  

That was just the entree. 

You can’t come to France and not eat, that would just be a crime. 


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