17 May, Friday
Breakfast: Yesterday, Edith told me she was baking a lemon cake for breakfast today so, this morning, I skipped my workout and went down to breakfast instead. She failed to mention that she had baked the lemon cake with polenta. I don’t like polenta. I had breakfast anyway. A croissant, mini baguette, and some other kind of bread with the demi-sal butter Brittany is known for, supermarket cheese, and that yummy homemade raspberry jam.
After breakfast, we took the ferry to Île-de-Bréhat (€15 round-trip, 10 minutes per way).
Island population is about 300. Except during the summer months, when it balloons to about 6000, as the summer homes, once again, welcome their owners.
On the island, we rented bicycles and biked to the north of the island and back. Well, I also walked the bicycle uphill and downhill a lot, not being used to gears or breaks or anything that comes with a bicycle that actually works. It was a great workout.
Lunch: By the time we finished, we were famished, but the only restaurants open were the tourist traps at the town center. Nicolas wanted to have mussels so he and Guylaine ordered mussels with two different sauces. They were the worst mussels they had ever had. I wisely chose a galette (a savory crepe) and, among our orders, I think mine was the only one worth eating.
We returned the bikes then walked around the island some more until it was time for us to catch the ferry back to the mainland.
We had two more items to check off our list, before heading back to Lan Caradec, our B&B in Lezardrieux. First, was the view point at Loguivy that Nicolas’ friend highly recommended. We had trouble finding it so Nicolas had to ask for directions and, in the process of doing so, managed to acquire some freshly made crepes (with demi-sal butter and a bit of sugar) for us.
I don’t know… Would you drive out of your way to look at this view? Bear in mind that Nicolas’ friend who recommended this has been to Siargao and stayed with us a few times. He knows what kind of view we have.
And then there was the Abbaye de Beauport, which Nicolas’ mother, Guylaine, kept going on about and really wanted to see.
The Abbey.
Except, once there, they were both quite content to just walk around it. And by around, I mean circle it in a wide berth almost out towards the sea where there was absolutely nothing and it was freezing cold.
You see that dirt road behind the fence? That’s where they were walking, into the great blue nothingness. Seriously, does that view look riveting enough for you to lose all feeling in your extremities?
I followed from a distance and tried to keep my cool – well, I had no choice really given that it really was fucking cold. Finally, I had had enough (I had wrapped my scarf around my head and looked utterly ridiculous and I was still cold!) so I announced that I was going back to the car to wait for them. That terminated the entire tour. Apparently, we’re an all-for-one-one-for-all team. Geez.
“But don’t you want to see the abbey?” I asked several times in frustration.
It wasn’t open to the public, they said. It was a nature sanctuary, they said, and they were there to admire the trees, the birds, the colors…
“But I saw some people coming out from over there.”
“Oh.”
Goddamit. It was ten minutes to closing and they wouldn’t admit us into the abbey. Nature sanctuary, indeed.
Dinner: Dinner tonight was at another one-star, Aigue Marine Hotel-Restaurant.
Expectations were low because the place had cheap, bright red, plastic baubles as decor on the tables and, instead of a view of the river, the carnival had come to town and we had a view of this instead:
It turned out to be the best meal for Nicolas. He was blown away by:
The scallops, which I ordered…
… the pork, prepared six ways, also mine…
… and Guylaine’s dessert, which should be broken up and mixed with the sauce underneath, like so:
Frankly, I am all scallop-ed, foie-gras-ed, and emulsion-ed out. I’m glad there was pork on the menu tonight and that it was amazing, because I don’t think I could stand to eat any more fish for a while.