Our first task had been to see if we could arrange accommodation for Bastille Day on saturday. Seems that the whole of France gets fed up with Chez Nous and migrates to the nearest hotel for the night, a bit of a problem for the itinerant tourist with no firm plans. The very helpful girl at Logis de France was able to turn up two, none too cheap, rooms in Auray just down the coast, fairly near Carnac where we intend to go later this week. We are hoping for a good turnout for Bastille Day there but we shall see.
A bit further around the coast, still on the Crozon Peninsula, we went to Camaret sur Mer. Despite Joans' prognostications that a day would be too long in Bretany within 3 miles we had seen a collection of collapsing fishing boats, a picturesque seaside village, a set of (what 50 or more?) aligned 7,000 year old stones, a monument to the WW II merchant marine dead (with huge anchors and the old concrete fortifications), several mad people climbing cliffs, a seriously big monument to the Breton people who gave their lives in WW II, a modest lighthouse and some 400 year old Napolionic fortifications. Words had to be eaten. I am owed a beer.
By mid afternoon the fog had become damp so we abandoned further sight-seeing, (of which there were many opportunities!) and set forth directly towards Douarnenez. This was a fairly quick journey impeded by wet roads and yet more fog and sadly Douarnenez turned out to be quite a large city with no vacant accommodation.
Luckily the lady at the information centre was able to turn up an apartment in nearby Locronan, the site of an annual pilgrimage called the Petite Tromenie, involving a walk around 12 stations. This appears to be going on this week although we'll miss Sunday which is the big day.
The apartment was some distance out of town (.6 of a mile) and a brisk walk reveled that the annual pilgrimage was in full flight and that the town is something of an original medieval village. Luckily the tourist busses leave at night giving us a free reign at the sights, cafes and restaurants.
A couple of glasses of the excellent Breton beer and a delicious dinner rounded off the day. We now have to find a New Zealand flag to trade with the bartender in the local pub who gave us a postcard of the Breton flag. Tomorrow we'll try and make sense of the pilgrimage and get some photos of the village.