Near Pointe du Raz...

Scenic town of Audierne.

Many of the tiny 'modern' villages in Brittany outside the old towns look like this.

Point du Raz (from the old Norman word meaning strong currents), about as far west as you can get on mainland Brittany, is very exposed to Atlantic weather, and the seas get famously rough around here. We didn't see huge seas, but on our first visit, it was nevertheless pretty wild and squally, and you could easily see the potential in a real storm. There's a string of rocky outcrops leading 20km out west from Point du Raz, only the nearest of them you can see from Raz. These have been the ruin of many a ship over the centuries, but now the rocks are well charted and often marked with lighthouses or semaphores. The most famous of these is Ar Men but that incredible lighthouse was well out of sight to us. Closer in is Ile-de-Sein with its lighthouse, really just visible from the mainland. The closest and therefore most impressive light is La Vielle, maybe a km offshore.

Spectacular view of the Phare de la Veille from Pointe du Raz with the lighthouse on Ile-de-Sein visible in the distance.

The seas were pretty rough today, but we've seen photos of much heavier conditions. The sun on this navigation light looked brilliant.

Point du Raz is set up to handle a lot of visitors with parking for hundreds of cars and about 20 coaches. There is an information centre (closed till April) and a large semi-circular building of shops and cafes, all completely shuttered up except for one lonely creperie which had no customers although there were maybe a dozen people around. This setup is about a kilometer from the point, and visitors are required to walk from the car park, but found we could drive almost all the way by ignoring the no entry signs.

One of many gulls swooping in the breezes around Pointe du Raz.

Magnificent setting for the Chapelle-de-St-They near the tip of Pointe du Van.

The Chapelle St They at Pointe du Van.

The drive out to Pointe du Raz was interesting, going through tiny villages, and we even saw some old windmills. The town of Confort-Meilars had a gorgeous old church, signage saying it was open every day, but it wasn't. It's bell rang on cue, apparently automated. And there were delightful bigger towns like Audierne (one possible hotel, but closed, and a laundromat which was also closed because so many of its machines were broken, so a notice said) and Douarnenez (no obvious suitable hotels but a laundromat open, working and which we used).

Grand church at Confort-Meilars. Sign on door said it was open 9-17 every day, but it wasn't.

One of two windmills of Trouguer, on their own in a field.

Isolated house with a great outlook near Kervoazec.

Douarnenez, a township since 1118AD, was an interesting commune and we had a good look around it, finding to our joy not only the laundry but also a tiny supermarket and boulangerie open. Its port seems to specialise in old, historical yachts, and there is a museum (closed) for that purpose. But the old boats in the marina were interesting to look at, even an old lighthouse ship. An island Tristan, barely offshore, has a history associated with legends of King Arthur.

Panorama over the port at Douarnenez, old lighthouse ship in the centre, and the spire of Sacre Coeur on the skyline right.

Unique Chappelle Saint Michel in Douarnenez.

House exposed to all weather on a beach near Douarnenez.

Splendid organ and window of the Sacre Coeur church in Douarnenez.

How shingles keep the rain out.

Just another pretty French florist, this one near Douarnenez Centre Ville.

The almost mythical island of Tristan which can be walked to at low tide.

The place we stayed at was called Latitude Ouest, a rambling old style hotel on the edge of a forest, the Bois du Nevet, and which had obviously been extended a number of times. For two of our three nights there, we were the only guests, and the whole place had a cold empty feeling. A spacious lounge area, touted as having an open fire, was freezing cold and uninhabitable in anything less than full outdoor clothing. The long corridors were dark and narrow, and sealed off with doors which banged shut noisily. Except for fresh bread and pastries at breakfast, everything else had a very stale feeling. We understand how difficult it must be to run a hotel in the off-season, but, if you're going to accept bookings, you must turn things "on" when you get them. That said, our room was large, clean and cosily heated, and the bathroom had that wonderful staple, a heated towel rail which warmed the whole room. And the staff were friendly and helpful, but they just didn't seem to realise how unwelcoming the ambience was. To top it off, wifi was very shaky, working maybe 50% of the time we tried to use it.

The Bois du Nevet as seen fom Latitude Ouest.

Not a scene from "The Shining", the front of Latitude Ouest. Our room on the first floor at right.

Bike riders on the D7 near Lacronan race by what seems to be a defunct Boulangerie + Bar + Tabac.

And, having explored places west, we finally discovered the town of Locronan, only about a kilometer from Latitude Ouest. Locronan is officially one of France's most beautiful towns, being a very well preseved Breton village, built in traditional local granite. The solid Renaissance houses with traditional roofs and cobbled streets ooze history, especially around the large village square (complete with well) fronted by the grandiose 15th Century St Ronan church. Ronan was an Irish immigrant who came to the village in the 800AD's - he taught the locals to weave, and became revered. The preservation of the town is aided by it being bypassed by through roads which skirt around it. Signage and huge carparks outside the village discourage traffic. Within, we found a few shops open, although eateries maintained their strict "midi" and "soir" eating times. We were looking at a menu outside one cafe near the end of the lunch period - this seemed to prompt the owner to rush outside and curtly remove her inviting sandwich boards. We found an Irish Pub open, and were pleased to partake in its pleasures. It had a few other customers, but most who came in did so to buy lottery tickets.

Our four days in the territory between Point du Raz and Locronan were enjoyable, not slightly due to pretty good weather. It was rarely sunny but almost always fine, and the daytime temperatures were 5-10C. Always a bit windy, so we kept our coats on. And then it was time to leave for the next finger of the Finistère west.

Untouched Breton architecture in Locronan town square on a brilliant blue sky day.

Rich interior of St Ronan's church in Locronan.

Maybe the best Christmas nativity scene we've seen, Saint Ronan's church. Onlookers at the manger are weaing Breton dress.

The St Ronan church at Locronan.

Maritime artwork on this Locronan shop.

Cobbled lane in Locronan.

Tempting treats in this chocolateria in Locronan.

Celtic bookshop in Lacronan's town square.

Tiny shop, open, in a back street of Locronan.

A popular (open) Irish pub in Locronan.

Office of the Mayor in Lacronan.

As soon as we looked through the window of this Locronan cafe, the owner shut the place down, in case we dared to come in for a late lunch.

In the Walled City...

The ferry rides all behind us, we gassed up our hybrid Corolla, and headed off in a westerly direction to Concarneau crossing the Brittany department boundary into Finistère. We chose Concarneau as our next stopping point because of its Ville Close, an ancient walled city occupying an island in its bay.

Concarneau as seen from the entrance to the Close.

We had earlier noticed that Brittany is bilingual, and that was reinforced on the hour's drive to Concarneau. Signs and notices are generally written in both French and Breton (derived from Cornish and Welsh), the latter language looking if not sounding rather guttural compared to the softer and melodious French. Breton words seem to be full of hard P's and K's. But we haven't noticed anyone speaking it, not that we would be certain! Wikipedia says that some 200,000 people speak Breton, about 4% of the population of Brittany, so it's status as a quasi-official language might be more out of cultural respect than pragmatism or anything else.

The walled city is the highlight of Concarneau. It looks like a huge fort and sits on a sandy island directly opposite a rather large town square (really a car park) and is easily accessed (now) by a short bridge. Cars can use the bridge, but are discouraged, and are prohibited in summer, but we walked in and all around the Close. It's truly fascinating. Buildings there have been rebirthed as bars, cafes and shops to attract visitors, and (it goes without saying) almost all of them were totally closed for the season, a great pity. From the ancient ramparts we saw the tiny little ferry (we'd call it a water taxi) which plies the waters around the Close.

Entrance to the walled city, pretty dry at low tide.

Just another closed cafe within the walled city.

Town square of the walled city.

Tiny ferry nipping around Concarneau port.

We read that a walled township of "fishermen and bourgeois" has existed on this island since the 1300's, and its strategic defensive value was quickly of interest to military forces. Over the years, it has been fortfied and refortified in the hands of forces belonging to "Duchy, King, English, Protestant, and Leaguers". A battle in 1373 (as part of the One Hundred Year War, the Plantagenet kings' failed attempt to rule over France) involved a seige of the Close and ended with the English being chased off.

The Ville Close from the air. (Credit Jean-Jacques Abalain and Wikipedia)

In Concarneau, we stayed about a km from the Close on White Sands Beach at the Hotel des Sables Blancs. At high tide, the waves crashed into the walls of the hotel: at low tide, a wide grubby looking beach was evident. Maybe the sands look whiter under summer sunshine, but we saw little of that commodity. Our room was compact but we had a great view of the waves right from our bed. The ubiquitous room heaters and hot towel rails kept everything cosy. The bar and restaurant had similar views, and we took advantage of these facilities over four days. The hotel faces south, and we could see both the rise and fall of the winter sun as it worked its slender arc over the horizon. This kept our room nice and warm, and we found it remarkable (throughout this trip) how low the sun is throughout the day. We who live closer to the equator are not used to that!

Bedroom at Hotel des Sable Blancs.

Early morning dive boat close to shore on the Plage des Sables Blancs.

Unconvincing white sands beach, our hotel middle right.

In the town square, we found the usual winter problem. Virtually nothing was open, and the one or two cafes which did open, did so only for an hour or two at "midi" and "soir". Where we did eat, printed menus and signboards appeared to cover summer options, and you only could have what was actually in the kitchen. You never know what's not available until you ask for it. Anyway, about now we decided that we were eating too much, and the dining times enforced by these inflexible rules didn't suit our stomachs, especially after a decent breakfast. Lunch was too early, and dinner was too late. Many meals were taken of delicious fresh baguette from a boulangerie, plus cheese from a market. We might even lose some weight if we manage this carefully! The most reliable shops were outside of Centre Ville in busy malls where locals shop - finding them was simplified by having a choice of navigators and a car to get us there.

Riverside house on the outskirts of Concarneau.

This Beautiful Island of Morbihan...

We have trouble with transport in France. Having struggled for literally months to make a booking on the car ferry to Belle-Ile-En-Mer (eventually discovering that the operators would not decide on the 2020 timetable until mid December), it was distressing to receive a weather warning on our phone the day before that services could be impacted by "severe coastal events". Indeed, we could see the wind picking up and the sea looking decidedly rough. But the next day dawned fine and calm, and our ferry departed on time without any ado. Well, only a little ado, anyway. The man who scanned our ticket grumbled "car no good". We had specified the Peugeot that we had ordered from Avis, but the Corolla was longer and belonged in another price bracket. Eventually, he relented, seeing we were hapless tourists, and waved us on board. It's rather traumatic reversing a strange car into a tightly packed hold, especially when someone calls out "starboard" when we didn't even know which end was the front of the boat!

Wave splashing over the rocks of Les Poulains.

Tiny rental car if you don't want to put yours on the ferry.

After about 45 minutes and 14km, the ferry, the Vindilus (the Roman name for Belle-Ile), pulls into a tiny harbour in Le Palais with a long and loud toot, probably to alert company staff and return passengers to our arrival. Le Palais is one of four communes (we'd call them towns with surrounding countryside) on Belle-Ile, and certainly the most active. In this town we found a laundry (a laverie) that we could use, and it had virtually the only cafes open (depending on hours, of course). It had two decent supermarkets on the outskirts, open 5.5 days a week.

Map showing the four communes of Belle-Ile-En-Mer.

Belle-Ile itself used to be heavily forested, but (outside the towns) is now almost all developed for farming. It separated from the mainland only 8000 years ago, but it populated after that with improvements in seafaring. The ancient Gauls used it as a naval base. In the 16th Century, Catholic monks had the island, but by the 17th Century, it was in private ownership. It was ceded to the King in 1718 after who knows what pressure. In 1761 the British took and held Belle-Ile for two years during which the population fled only to be replaced eventually by Arcadians who were being persecuted in North America. In WW2, Germany occupied Belle-Ile, and some of their structures remain.

Roundabout with directions in Le Palais.

Our accommodation was at an isolated farm-style B&B called The Aubergerie in the commune of Sauzon. Belle-Ile is only 17 x 9km, so nothing is too far away. Our four night stay here was a real pleasure. Our room was spacious if not huge, decorated in a generous country style, and well heated. The bathroom was a dream, with a shower which actually didn't leak onto the floor, a real rarity. And a heated towel rail which was oh-so-snug. Anastasio, our host, and his wife, provided a yummy continental breakfast of fresh baguette and pastries, fresh fruit, orange juice and crepes. This shut us up for most of the day, just as well because it was so hard to find anywhere to eat!

Inside our room at The Aubergerie.

Why were we here? Belle-Ile has long been a bucket list destination. A panoramic photograph of its Poulains and lighthouse beautifies our walls at home. We came to see the Poulains. Pointe de Poulains is at the north-western tip of Belle-Ile in Sauzon, maybe 5-10 minutes drive from the Aubergerie. It is a stunning mass of steep rocks rising from the sea right at the coastline, and in heavy weather, the waves crashing on them is a sight to see. We weren't that lucky, after all, the seas were calm for our ferry crossing! But we visited the Poulains four times whilst on Belle-Ile, and the vision is always very impressive. And the 1828 lighthouse itself is a visual masterpiece, especially near sunset. The name comes phonetically from the Breton description of the location, exactly what isn't clear.

Sunset at les Poulains, high tide preventing us getting closer.

The offshore rocks which constitute The Poulains.

At 6pm, the light finally comes on.

No trouble getting to the lighthouse at low tide.

The authorities have done a lot of work to restore or preserve the aesthetics of the site. Specifically, ugly powerlines to the lighthouse have been replaced by solar panels; pedestrian visitors have been confined to marked tracks; and an unnecessary lean-to on the lighthouse has been removed. The actress Sarah Bernhardt loved the Poulains and summered here for many years (to get away from her fans?), but the few buildings she occupied have become delapidated and are now the subject of restoration. They are mostly pretty ugly, although there is one quite beautiful summer-house nearby.

View from around the coast.

Closed up summer house near Les Poulains.

It's possible to walk right to the lighthouse, but only at low tide. Tidal amplitude is about 4m, and at high tide the mound of the lighthouse becomes an island with swirling waves surrounding it in both directions. Don't get caught by the rising tide, or you will have an 8 hour wait!

Wave splashing over the rocks of Les Poulains.

Not far from the Poulains is the township of Sauzon, a truly beautiful little harbour town, and apparently the only port on the island other than Le Palais which is able to receive ferries from the mainland. They don't run in winter. In fact, nothing much was running in Sauzon. Certainly no cafes, and the only place we found open was a tiny supermarket at which we managed to buy a baguette and some cheese for lunch. We noted how spic'n'span the buildings were in Sauzan, as if they've all received a new coat of paint at the end of summer. And we did see quite a few tradesmen doing work on the tourist facilities, so this is obviously the season for that sort of activity.

Sauzon port. Boats from all those moorings are elsewhere for the winter.

Tiny town sqaure in Sauzon.

Another Belle-Ile commune is Bangor and this is home to the Castel Clara a large and upmarket hotel which was not only open but quite busy by the look of it. It also had a "cafe" at which we took an expensive seafood lunch (starts at 12:15, don't be too late) with a fixed menu formula which was a selection of fresh fruits-de-mer as a "starter", a single fish dish for a main course. Sweets and coffee were extra, much to our surprise, but there was no written menu for us to peruse, so we had to battle with verbal explanations which we obviously misinterpreted.

The Castel Clara hotel at Bangor where we enjoyed a fresh seafood lunch.

Lobster pots awaiting callup at La Palais port.

Bangor had two major attractions for us, very near each other. One, the Aiguilles (needles) de Port Coton, similar to the Poulains and famous for the foam (cotton) created with by the crashing seas. Claude Monet featured this coastline in several of his famous paintings. And, overlooking the Cotons, is Belle-Ile's 1836 52m tall Grand Phare or more correctly, phare de Goulphar, designed by the renowned engineer Augustin Fresnel whose revolutionary design of "stepped" lighthouse lenses extended the visibility of lighthouses, saving countless lives at sea. Indeed, the street running to the Grand Phare is Rue de Fresnel, and at the other end of this street we were delighted to find a bar actually open and serving beer and vodka! We enjoyed the quiet ambience there for a while, especially the neighbourhood kids setting off fireworks outside.

The Grand Phare of Belle-Ile, one of the first examples of Fresnel's lighthouse lenses.

Not so much cotton, but the seas are still pretty rough at Port Coton this evening.

This is a historic WW2 German radar station at Port Coton, arguably undeserving of the obvious disrespect.

Belle-Ile has been a haven for artists, and there is an Aussie connection. A wealthy Australian John Russell settled on Belle-Ile and established an artists' colony. His contemporaries and friends included van Gogh, Matisse and Monet who often worked with Russell on the island and influenced his style, though it has been said that Monet preferred some of Russell's Belle-Ile seascapes to his own. Russell introduced Matisse to impressionism and he would later credit Russell with beaing his teacher. Russell never tried to publicise his own work, it seems.

Plage des Grands Sables, a large pebbly beach, only shows ruins of the fortifications which once lined this part of the coast.

Locmaria town well, but not for drinking any more.

The fourth commune of Belle-Ile is Locmaria which had a pretty church (the oldest on Belle-Ile) but absolutely nothing open. To get there we drove along the island's protected north coast and looked at several beaches, including the Plage de Grands Sables, all popular in summer by the look of it, but virtually deserted for our visit. Also, another lighthouse, but we don't know its name.

Light at eastern tip of Belle-Ile.

Pretty Plage de Port Andro at Locmaria.

Inside the Locmaria church, with clear emphasis on maritime safety.

Le Palais was Belle-Ile's most lively town in this off-season, by a long shot. We found it endlessly entertaining to watch the arrivals and departure of the ferry Vindilus, turning 180 degrees in a ridiculously tight harbour, loading and unloading cars, trucks and passengers off the starboard side onto a steep ramp, no matter the state of the tide, all with practiced ease. Upstream from the harbour is a long narrow waterway which would run dry at low tide except for a single gate-set which keeps it at high tide levels. We were amazing to see a merchant vessel come through these gates near high tide to unload its cargo in the two hours available before the tide went down. There would only be half a meter clearance on either side of this ship as it passed the gates, but it did so with nary a paint scrape.

Aerial view of the tiny harbour at Le Palais.

When you can't find a bite, it's OK to have a drink.

Van loading into the Vindilus at Le Palais.

Foot passengers disembarking from the Vindilus at Le Palais.

Merchant vessel reversing through a tiny gate under the watch of the lock manager.

We had most meals in Le Palais, having learned that you have to be there (at one of the few cafes open) at almost exactly the right time (12:30 for "midi", 19:00 for "soir") or miss out, and the meals actually available were almost never as outlined on menus and boards, instead much more limited. We did find one much more flexible cafe. Our timing was bad, it seems. Many cafes opened for the Christmas - New Year "fetes", but then closed about a week into the New Year, just in time for our arrival. Our choices were very limited. If there was a-la-carte fine dining to be found, we didn't find it.

The "Red Fish" was easily the most reliable eatery on Belle-Ile.

A true delight, a great lunch had at the Hotel Atlantique which unfortunately closed the next day for its annual hollidays.

Interior of the Saint Geran church in Le Palais.

Open and inviting indeed, but no food available at this takeaway in Le Palais.

Not many macchiatos to be had in Brittany, but we were told to try ordering a Cafe Noisette. Means "hazelnut" but that refers to the colour, not the flavour.

Dominating Le Palais, indeed surrounding the town, is the Citadelle, a monstrous fort, now in private hands and housing a museum and hotel (closed), named after the Marquis of Vauban (d1707) who was a particular favourite of King Louis XIV because of his engineering and military skills. Vauban designed and oversaw a ring of citadelles, an "iron belt", around France which proved to be virtually impregnable thanks to their double enclosures and exceptional corner bastions. But this citadelle did eventually fall to the English in 1761 who held it and all of Belle-Ile until the Treaty of Paris two years later.

One of two narrow tunnels though the Citadelle at Le Palais.

Walls within walls in the Citadelle in Le Palais.

A moat well within the outer fortifications of La Citadelle.

In five days enjoying Belle-Ile-En-Mer, we enjoyed good weather - mostly overcast, occasional bursts of blue sky, virtually no rain, always a bit windy, and temps up to 15C. It finally played against us, and our return midday ferry, booked months earlier, was cancelled due to an oncoming storm. The company did not inform us, and we would not have found out beforehand except for our B&B host who had his ear to the island grapevine. He helped us rebook on the only ferry which would go that day, 9:30am, before the storm hit. Weather forecasting is obviously quite precise around here! Thanks Anastasio! The crossing was rocky, not too bad, the roughest part being the actual entry to Quiberon harbour.

Wild conditions as Vindilus enters Quiberon Harbour, really tested the tying down of our car downstairs.