I do not recommend spending a week in Brittany in the rain.
Under the circumstances I even found it difficult to get excited about the standing stones and dolmens (my “old stones” as the Frog calls them), which is not like me at all. The beach was out of the question. There are no indoor activities to speak of in Morbihan other than a butterfly farm and an aquarium. Once those thrilling possibilities had been explored (approx. 2 hours later), that left us with lots of driving around looking at things through misted up windows, occasionally risking a brief walk swaddled in thick cardigans and with waterproofs at the ready. Let me add that the Toddler detests being in the car and particularly being strapped into her car seat. A delightful holiday cocktail.
The sadistic weather hags on France3 and TF1 did nothing to help our predicament. Every evening we tuned in and felt a cautious stirring of optimism seeing the sunshine icon above our location on the weather map. I think they stuck it on in the wrong place. Or Brittany is not quite where I thought it was.
On a more positive note, many crèpes were devoured and I got very messy indeed trying to eat some grilled langoustines steeped in a fluorescent saffron sauce (to the horror of French onlookers). I had the hands of a 40-a-day gaulloise smoker for several days afterwards, but it was worth it.
I also marvelled at the dress sense of the French on holiday. I have never before seen quite so many non-seafaring people in nautical attire. It seems to be the bourgeois holiday uniform. Moccassins, yellow waxed jackets and navy and white horizontal striped t-shirts with ships steering wheel motifs. (Is there a special name for these? If there is, it escapes me). Accessorised with gold jewelry and perfect hair and make up of course. And a tan. Where did these people find sun? A ‘Point Soleil’ tanning parlour in Paris perhaps?
Anyway am now back in Paris and suffering from that horrible Sunday night feeling I remember from school. Back in the office tomorrow. At least this means that normal blogging service will be resumed, I think I’ve been suffering somewhat from not having an outlet…
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That Sunday Night feeling used to reduce me to tears when I was at school! Seems it is the same the world over!
Welcome home. Glad to have you back, have been missing your posts.
Comment by Deelea — September 23, 2004 @ 1:20 pm
hooray, you’re back! what a shite holiday! It sounds just like one at home, dunnit?
I am very glad to hear about the non sea faring nautical dressers. We have that too, in a slightly less formal way. daft.
Comment by madge — September 23, 2004 @ 1:21 pm
and madge forgot to thank you for holiday link to us. so I’m doing it. thank you. (!)
Comment by vitriolica — September 23, 2004 @ 1:21 pm
Holidays in Brittany are a bit like holidays in Wales, what with the non-stop rain. At least you had better food.
Comment by Nigel M — September 23, 2004 @ 1:21 pm
Why drive all over France to find Menhirs? Could you not have just gone to Parc Asterix?
Comment by scaryduck — September 23, 2004 @ 1:22 pm
The outfits sound très geeky. Sounds like you need a holiday from your holiday.
Comment by cass — September 23, 2004 @ 1:22 pm
is there really a parc asterix??????
Comment by vit — September 23, 2004 @ 1:22 pm
There is, but I haven’t been since I was 16. Which is half my life ago *gulp* so I imagine it has changed somewhat since. Lots of fake boulders, and not very scary rides as I recall.
Don’t think the fake boulders are on ley lines though.
I haven’t even been to Disneyland Paris yet, I must confess. Am waiting until forced at gunpoint.
Comment by petite anglaise — September 23, 2004 @ 1:23 pm