Wide Beach and a Walled City...

Promenading on the beach is a popular pastime.

It's about 180km from Morlaix to Saint-Malo, so this day would be the biggest drive of our trip, but a long way short of mammoth 6 hour drives we have done in the USA, for example. The road was a motorway the entire way, so we made short work of the distance, even though it rained almost the entire journey. Towards the end of the drive we crossed over the department boundary into Ille-et-Vilaine, although we were still in the region of Brittany. We arrived planning to have a baguette and cheese for lunch at a nice spot opposite the beach only to discover this city is an overdeveloped nightmare. There's nowhere to park or even stop and overlook the beach. For much of the beachfront, the road running alongside the coast (as shown on our navigators) has been converted to a footpath, not a bad thing, but it means that you can't approach the beach even for a glimpse when in your car.

Fort National, just off the walled city, was built by Vauban in 1689.

This guy and others were tame and used to being fed, we think.

The western end of downtown (where our hotel turned out to be) did have a street, Chaussée de Sillon running along the beach but there was no parking available there, and even if there was, any view was obstructed by a huge seawall. Depressed, we found a grotty spot in a nearby port area to have our picnic lunch, and then went looking for our hotel, Le Nouveau Monde, another inspired "damn the expense" choice, but in a fabulous location overlooking the water. At last we could see the beach! The hotel has its own paid parking, but we were extraordinary lucky and sprung one of few free and unlimited spots directly opposite. This is a walkable town, so we left the car there untouched for four days.

Our hotel bedroom, real comfortable and fabulous beach view.

Buildings along the Saint-Malo seafront all appear to be for holiday accommodation.

The beach at Saint-Malo, wow! The tidal amplitude here is up to 10m and the surface slope is shallow, so at low tide it's a vast expanse of drying sand, ideal for the French habit of promenading. Luckily, the sand is fine enough and yellow, making it great looking and good walking. At high tide, the water comes right up to the seawall, and if the sea is rough (as it was on one night) it's a spectacular sight as waves crash over the wall and flood the footpath and street until it flows away. The waves are tempered by attractive artificial groynes of tree trunks, but they are no match for big seas. This sight, of the entire beach waxing and waning, will be our enduring memory of Saint-Malo.

At low tide the beach is wide...

But high tide and a storm is an entirely different look/

Tree trunk groyne walls seem designed to manage big seas.

Taking advantage of the wild conditions.

Saint-Malo is a huge tourist destination, maybe the first we have come to on this driving trip. We read that its population swells by about 400% in summer. The port has a huge ferry terminal which receives arrivals from Portsmouth, Poole and the channel islands of the United Kingdom. We can imagine how crowded with English tourists this place becomes, and wonder if there's an equivalent number of French tourists visiting England? It's winter here, and all those overseas visitors were missing, we didn't hear anyone else speaking English, but the town was still buzzing with French visitors who presumably drove here, and lots of locals probably enjoying the pre-season lull.

Lovely old posters encouraging visitors to Saint-Malo.

Notable Brittany intellectual François-René de Chateaubriand (d1848) who thought of himself as the greatest greatest writer, philosopher and lover of his age is buried in St Malo and celebrated here greatly.

But this attention meant something we haven't seen before on our drive of Brittany, businesses being open! Not all of them by any means, but it was a pleasure to be able to walk the streets and have a real choice of bars, cafes and restaurants, and a decent number of other stores. And the rigorous dining hours enforced elsewhere seem to be relaxed somewhat - now you can get lunch outside the slender 12:00-13:00 window, and have dinner befor 19:00. We took advantage of this flexibility to eat and drink at hours which better suit our stuck-in-the-mud stomach habits.

Bars in Intra-Muros were popular especially with local college students during their breaks. We avoided them to stay away from their cigarette smoke.

Open creperie inside the walled city.

Cute shopfront for a store selling products manufactured in Brittany.

Shop inside the walled city.

The first township at what is now Saint-Malo was established by the iron age Celtic Gauls in the 100 years BC. After the fall of the Roman Empire, Amoricans arrived in droves around 600AD+- from Britain to escape instability there, becoming the Bretons of Bretagne. Wikipedia says that the modern Saint-Malo originated in a monastic settlement founded by Saint Aaron and Saint Brendan early in the 700'sAD with the name coming from a follower of Brendan, Saint Malo or Maclou, who immigrated from Wales. Much later, the town was notorious for corsairs, French privateers and sometimes pirates who extracted tribute from English ships passing up the Channel. Breton native Jacques Cartier (d1557) from Saint-Malo was the first European to describe and map the Gulf of Saint Lawrence and the Saint Lawrence River, which he named "The Country of Canadas", after the Iroquois names for nearby settlements, gaining credit for the "discovery" of Canada.

Inside the Saint-Vincent cathedral of the walled city.

Somewhere in that history, a large and fantastic walled city, La Ville Intra-Muros, was built in or around Saint-Malo. It's a real city, much larger and more impressive than the one we saw in Concarneau, and is packed tight with apartments, shops, cafes, churches, schools and colleges. It is a live city, with its own population, and we saw schools and colleges with many students operating inside the walls. This city, which the buses call Intra-Muros, was a great highlight of our stay in Saint-Malo.

Main entrance to Intra-Muros at night.

Chimney pots as an art form!

Architectural detail within the walled city.

Fort National just off Saint Malo beach reflected in the wet sand.

Interesting ceiling detail in the walled city fish market.

A sad true story lies behind this restored statue of an "ugly woman with baby".

Symbol of the old walled city may refer to the guard dogs set loose after gates were shut at night.

The Germans occupied Saint-Malo during World War II, and refused to surrender even towards the end when defeat was inevitable. No doubt the walled fortifications provided a great defensive position. So, in late 1944, the historic walled city of Saint-Malo was almost totally destroyed by allied shelling and bombing. After the war, the city was rebuilt over many years and, by looking the the buildings, its possible to identify the ramshackle buildings which survived the attack in amongst the orderly (but tight packed) new constructions. The Germans did apparently allow French citizens to escape the bombing, and its interesting to read the (excellent and comprehensive) interpretive signage all over the city. The French were being defended, of course, and so the signage mostly refers to a "fire" politely without much reference to how it came about.

Memorial to victims of hatred and genocide in WW2.

Blocks and blocks of new apartments all built after the bombing on WW2.

Magnificent dormer windows and chimney structures on the post WW2 walled city apartments.

There is an elevated walk around almost the whole of Intra-Muros. We walked it several times - it gives a great view of the inside of the city, of the port area outside, of statues of notable historic figures, and of the beaches and offshore forts. It's good exercise, being several kilometers in length with lots of steps. And, when it's sunny and not blowing a gale, its very pleasant up there.

The walk along the ramparts goes around 90% of the walled city.

Ferries bring in masses of visitors to Saint-Malo, especially in the season.

Panorama from Saint-Malo's walled city.

Only the ducks were using this rockpool on the Plage de Bon Secours.

There's probably a lot more to Saint-Malo than we saw, but that beach and the old city were enough to keep us entertained (and fed and watered) for four days. We took the opportunity to do some laundry too, with everything within easy walking distance of our hotel, so our rental car had a nice rest, and a good wash in the rain, while we were here.

An amusement park suddenly burst into life one midweek afternoon - no school?

The Viaduct of Morlaix ...

Now heading east en route in the direction of Le Mont Saint Michel, an hour's drive from Saint-Mathieu took us to the city of Morlaix. We came here to see one thing only, its famous viaduct, although as we drive, we realise a lot of valleys are crossed by spectacular viaducts. It was a wet drive, and at Morlaix we had to face the reality that regular rain squalls would cross our path.

The viaduct as seen from Place Allende.

Our hotel in Morlaix was the Hotel de l'Europe and, depending on how you look at it, is the only one we have stayed at right in the centre of a historical downtown. From that read, nowhere to park. We unloaded by driving up onto the footpath, and found parking, like everyone else, but driving around. Everyone's goal is to avoid pay parking, and our most reliable spot was at a supermarket about 500m away. The hotel itself is a "grand old dame", occupying almost a full block next to the hotel de ville. Its common rooms were opulent with period fixtures and furnishings and very high ceilings. Our room was much the same, with a juliet balcony overlooking a twon square (really a car park). The Europe claims a distinguished past with construction before 1792. It became a hotel in 1816. Famous guests include the Queen of Portugal (1831), Duke & Duchess of Nemours (1843), Napoleon Bonaparte's brother (1880), dowager Queen of Italy (1908), and the visitors book shows a visit by Charles de Gaulle. Who knows who has slept in our bedroom?

The grand old lady of the Hotel d'Europe.

Soggy view from our hotel room across the Place de Viarmes.

The staff at Europe were so friendly and helpful, and delighted to hear that we were from Australia. The booking.com system apparently doesn't tell them. They spoke excellent English, and the manager was quite familiar with Australian politics. He thought that it was time we ousted our climate denying prime minister who is an embarrassment to the country and a danger to the world.

Another view of the cross-town viaduct.

The viaduct is not a Roman creation as we first suspected, but is much more contemporary, being built in 1863 to accommodate the new steam railway. Its location across downtown was rejected by the city council but ignored by the railway company. We've heard that story before! But in a massive tactical blunder in WW2, the British air command sent US bombers to destroy the viaduct - only one bomb slightly damaged the stategic railway link, the other 42 bombs missed it but killed 80 inhabitants including 39 children at school. To add insult to injury, another railway viaduct far away from any innocent village could have been but was not the target. The Germans repaired the damage to the viaduct within "hours". We loved the viaduct - not only is it so photogenic, it provides great views over the town and gives it much character.

The reason the viaduct is there, a speeding TGV leaving Morlaix station.

Little wonder the council opposed the viaduct, which goes almost right over the cathedral.

The lower way on the viaduct is a pedestrian path.

Morlaix Town Hall. When we first arrived, that square contained a weekly market which attracted lots of people.

Old town Morlaix is very walkable, even though we had to dodge occasional rain and watch out on slippery, steep cobblestoned streets. We saw a produce market in the Place des Otages, under the viaduct, and not far away, around the Place Allende, there are some notable elderly buildings, most particularly the 1520 Duchess Anne’s house, now a museum, but so named because Duchesse Anne of Brittany is said to have visited it during a pilgrimage, but this is an urban myth - she died before 1520. The town's interesting buildings include the Hotel de Ville, a grand theatre, and the Post and Telecommunications office.

The 1520 Duchess Anne’s house.

In the Place Allende, the Ty Cos said to be the oldest hotel in Morlaix.

External house wall in Morlaix old town.

The Riviere de Morlaix runs past the supermarket where we found a parking spot, goes under buildings and roads and indeed the viaduct for maybe 500m, then pops out in a huge marina which is extraordinary because it's a long way from anywhere navigable. Its water is held by a lock gate, and at low tide, the river is a muddy swamp for maybe 10km. We can't imagine the hundreds of yachts there motoring down the river at high tide for a day's sailing, so maybe they just all park up here for the winter, and moor downriver in summer?

The top end of the large Morlaix marina, seen from the viaduct.

Looking upstream from the Morlaix marina. A lock keeps water in during low tides.

The Riviere de Morlais is almost dry at low tide.

A panorama of the bay at the end of the Riveiere de Morlaix with the light of Ile Louet in the foreground, yet another fort on the right!

At the eventual outlet to the river, we found a bay full of rocky outcrops, tiny islands, navigation lights, a fully fledged lighthouse, and of course another fort. Our pictures were taken from the unlikely Plage de Tahiti in the township of Carantec. We could have driven further, but the weather was miserable and a bar was calling, so we scarpered back to Morlaix.

At Carantec, this road which is fully submerged at high tide, leads to Ile de Callot. That tractor probably gets a got of work with stuck cars.

We found the La Chope a pleasant place to have a cleansing ale.

Abbey at Saint-Mathieu...

From Camaret-sur-Mer, we had an hour's drive to get to our next destination, going around the Rade de Brest, a huge inlet from the Atlantic Ocean, and through the port city of Brest which, we could see from the Pointe des Espagnoles, hosts a substantial navy base. We didn't stop in Brest, but to approach it we had to cross two major bridges, come in from the east on a motorway, then leave to the west via crowded old town streets and around an old fort or castle. We saw that Brest has a brand new looking lightrail system running. Brest is the second biggest city in Brittany.

Spectacular bridge over an upper reach of the Bay of Brest at Terenez.

Our destination was at the extreme west of Brittany, the Pointe de St-Mathieu on the edge of the town of Plougonvelin. We came here to see the derelict abbey, but more importantly, maybe, to stay in the luxurious accommodation at the Hostellerie de St-Mathieu which is literally on the opposite side of the road to the abbey. In fact, we left our Corolla in the abbey car park.

The glory of the lighthouse at Saint Mathieu.

The Hostellerie was exquisite, selected to give us a really comfortable place to relax for a few days. Our room was at the top end of their range, so it was uber-spacious and modern, with a fabulous bathroom, and included a huge lighthouse mural on the wall. The Hostellerie claimed to be an "eco" establishment: we found that what this means is that room heating (hot water radiators) turn off during the day, and during the night, a minor irritation really, but we couldn't get past thinking it was really no more than a cost saving measure. The bar and restaurant at the Hostellerie were both stylish and great, and we partook in the pleasures of both (there being virtually no competition nearby).

The Hostellerie at Pointe de Saint Mathieu.

Interior of our amazing room at the Hostellerie.

This was not the view we had from our window, but we could see the beam sweeping by all night.

Directly opposite the hotel was the Pointe which was cluttered not only with the abbey, but also a military semaphore station (photography prohibited) and a grand lighthouse, all ridiculously close to each other. We read a comment that it was a "bizarre juxtaposition"! And within 25m or so, a war memorial. A tower in the abbey, derelict anyway, had to be part demolished to give the lighthouse full rotation, so we too are a bit bemused as to why it (the lighthouse) was built so close.

Pointe de St-Mathieu and the tight juxtaposition of the semaphore station, the lighthouse, the abbey and a chapel.

Same view at night with the beam showing.

The abbey, Saint-Mathieu-de-Fine-Terre is named after Saint Matthew the Evangelist. The first abbey here was built before 555AD by Saint Tanguy on land he had inherited (so goes the story), the site deliberately chosen for its isolation. That abbey is gone. The current ruins are of a Benedictine monastery from the 11thC and modified later, but it was abandoned after the French Revolution. Monks sold off what had not already been looted, it seems. The ruins are amazing abd overwhelming - the abbey is large and some of the roof is still in place.

Ornate archway near a chapel near the abbey at Saint-Mathieu.

Solitary stone cross near the abbey.

Cove and another point near Pointe du Saint Mathieu.

The lighhouse peeks into the old abbey.

Fine detail in an abbey column.

The part of the abbey roof still in position.

The lighthouse was built in 1835 among the ruins when it could have been located 50m away on a site now occupied by the war memorial. It's distinctive decoration is to have the words "Saint Mathieu" painted on it in huge letters. This is a big lighthouse in the Brittany portfolio, and can be seen 55km away. From our bedroom, we could see the beam flashing by every few seconds. Within the lighthouse structure is a separate navigational beacon which at first we thought would be a historical artifact, but at night flashes red or green to specific adjacent directions as part of the very complicated navigational aid system in part of Brittany.

Both a lighthouse and a duplex navigation beacon on the same site.

Another very impressive war memorial on the Brittany coast, this dedicated to sailors.

We didn't relax as much as planned. We did laundry at Plouzaine, and had a look around Plougonvelin finding a great protected beach (looks like it is blighted by jet skis in summer) and yet another old fort (this one rebirthed as an exercise park operating in summer). And we drove to Le Conquet which we read is the westernmost town on mainland France, and a beautiful one at that, with an unnavigable maze of tiny twisty streets around the port area. One claimed touch with fame - Henry VII apparently unintentially landed at Le Conquet in a storm when he was escaping exile from Wales!

The Fort de Bertheaume has been fitted with zip lines and converted to an adventure park. At Plougonvelin.

Small and protected Plage du Perzel is backed up by a large camping ground and must be a haven in summer.

Our navigator liked to take us along remote local roads, this one through a farm of, we think, artichokes.

View of Le Conquet from across its port.

Harbour and light at Le Conquet.

Fisherman's cottage at Le Conquet.

This is as close as we could get to the Le Conquet light.

On the coastal walk near Le Conquet, some brave boys after a swim.

At the end of three days based at St-Mathieu we set out to the city of Morlaix near the north-west coast of Brittany.

Wind farms are all over Brittany. Joe Hockey would convert them to coal power stations.