Just as promised there was no
beating for a very pleasant 30 mile sail from Quimper to Ile de
Groix just off Lorient; we were looking forward to a pleasant evening in a quiet island harbour. What we hadn’t factored in was Bastille
day. 200 years later they still go nuts for the sacking of the
monarchy and the start of a head chopping fest (all bourgeois pigs of
course!) It was 7 o’clock as we pulled into the little harbour in
Port Tudy on Ile de Groix and we weren’t the first, I've never seen mooring quqite like this before! We muscled in amongst the hoards and tied up alongside one of the throng; Melanie put the dinner on and on came the music from some mega speakers ashore; this would be a long night! Partying
‘till the wee hours is not really our thing so we decided to high
tail it out of there, passing a battery of fireworks on the quay as
we left. We had a lovely evening sail for a couple of hours to the
mainland where we arrived in a little anchorage behind the old fort
at Port Louis just as it was getting dark to be greeted by hundreds
of people at the quay waiting for their fireworks. It was a
spectacular display in our front row seats swinging to an anchor. It
was a tragedy to hear about the mindless slaughter in Nice the
following day.
Next we hopped over
to Sauzon on Belle Isle; a delightful island where we were also not
the first – we are definitely into peak sailing season for the
French, there will be no deserted anchorages for us until we reach
Spain! Not wanting to stay in a crowded rather rolly anchorage we
headed over to the Gulf of Morbihan, a large inland sea dotted with
little islands – and every sailing and motor boat in France out for
the holiday weekend!
Cider making is big
in these parts; it is rather cloudier and more earthy than ours but a
pleasant drop. Melanie had found out about a cider festival a little
way back up the coast that we wanted to see. We hired a car and drove
the 50 odd miles to Fouesnant. Bagpipes are so synonymous with
Scotland it was something of a surprise to hear their distinctive
drone warming up as we arrived. The roots here are in fact very
Celtic; the last strong holds of the Celts being Wales,
Scotland Ireland and as it turns out Brittany. We watched the big parade with everybody in
traditional Breton costume; there were many similarities to the Welsh
dress and even the language, still spoken here and on every sign post
as well as French, is similar.
After the parade we
were treated to a Breton rock concert; check out the guy with the
shades. At least the sun was out!
Vannes is still packed with old timber framed houses; its an odd
combination, 21st century shop fronts on the ground floor
with medieval timber above. 
A nice touch was a Mr Vannes (I couldn't
find out who he was), who had a portrait of he and his wife carved into
the front of his new house!
This morning
Woody and I headed out early for a bike ride before it got to hot. A
7 o’clock start had us at the magnificent Chateau de Suscinio long
before the doors opened. Built in 1200 it was more of a castle 
The butter is melting at a frightening speed here now – but I gather you’ve got the same at home – it is 32 degrees as I write this. But just as we are thinking its getting hot, spare a thought for this poor fellow in his thick winter coat!
Beware, wherever you
go below Woody is watching you!
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