Because life is so hectic right now and I do have an old blog somewhere that I’m totally neglecting, I decided to recycle one of those posts today.
The summer I was pregnant with Little Boy, we went to France. France is one of my all-time favourite countries. I speak the language, and there are just so many different regions, with different things to see. I could spend my life traveling France! A few years ago, my husband and I took the car and just left towards the coast of Normandy. This summer we decided to pick up where we left off and do the northern coast of Brittany. I remembered some beautiful landscapes when I was a kid and stayed there with my parents, and I was convinced it would enchant my husband.
At first, not so. You see, the coastline there was protected and made reachable mainly for hikers. While that’s a very good thing, because the landscapes are wide and authentic, a bit rough and just stunning, when you’re travelling by car, there are easier places to visit. Luckily, there are good maps with view points indicated, and the hiking trail along the coastline is easy to find, and easy to follow for those who want to do a few kilometers. There are only a few places covered with tourists, and everywhere else, you feel like you’re at the end of the world, all alone, and it’s just heaven.
I liked the Emerald coast best, which was basically the first part of the trip. But my husband got blown away only when we reached the Pink Granite coast. It’s so different!
We decided to focus on the coastline, which meant mainly nature and sea and quiet beaches covered in stones. We ate baguettes with boursin, tons of pistacchios, slept in beautiful chambres d’hôte and always had a nice meal in the evening at little local restaurants. Life can be good and simple like that.
We visited a sea-life center (because we like those) and a zoo (again, one of our little weaknesses), kept enjoying amazing sea-views, and on our way back home, we chose to drive through the woody part of the region, where we encountered several ‘enclos paroissiaux’, very specific settings of a little church, ossuary and cross, all tied together by a stone wall. We hadn’t expected those and were happy to find them. We imagined how life would’ve been at the time when everything seemed centered around those little places.
We came back happy and well-rested. And I was already dreaming of future visits, with a little child, discovering other regions, starting just across the border and going more south once the he’ll be getting older…
You know the nice thing about this post? Little Boy already has been to France. My parents still rent a house each year in a different region and we’re all invited to spend a week or so there together. Last year it has been Picardy, this summer the Loire valley it will be! I’m really looking forward to it.
Songs of Home 