Dead Boats, "Cousin" Mary, and Spiders In my Hair

tide is out!
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Monday, October 8.

Just in case you are thinking I don’t like Brittany, you are wrong. I love it. It is just as ancient and picturesque as the rest of France. But I am itching to see the ocean, so I head directly there. I drive to Locquirec on the north shore and drive the lacy shoreline of Finistre’ above Morlaix. There are thousands of inlets, secret coves and hidden beaches. This is what I have been longing for! The sun is out and it’s about 75 degrees. The houses in the villages are now mostly white stucco with stone “coins” outlining the corners of the house and the windows. It still looks like late summer here, a testament to the moderate climate; mounds of flowers decorate the center circles of the roundabouts, hydrangeas line the fences around people’s yards and creeping vines spill over stone walls. Flowers like it here.

there is a big red buoy in the harbor completely exposed...well, now I see. The tide is out, WAY out

dead boats
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At Toul-en-Hery I am presented with what looks like to me, an abandoned sandy valley of “dead” boats. They are tilted on their sides on a marshy bottom dotted with algae and rocks, still tied to little round white buoys, their masts pointing sideways. Well, now I see… the tide is out. WAY out! There is a big red buoy in the middle of the harbor, completely exposed; not a puddle in sight. In the distance I can see sandy beaches and the ocean. I cannot explain to you what an odd sight this is. I cross a bridge and pass a couple of random chateaus, their stone turrets and shuttered windows looking out over tilt-a-whirl display. All I can think is “location, location, location”!

the empty harbor
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I pass lots of interesting stone houses and farmland that stretches to edge of the cliffs that fall away to the water. I follow a sign for the Cairn de Barnenez, but it’s closed. Damn Mondays! I stop often to stare out over the water and the mounds of tiny rock islands that have been sprinkled around the shoreline. I am headed for Roscoff which is directly across from Cork, Ireland, and there are ferries to take you there. As much as I love Ireland, I am trying to remember that I am here to see France. I cannot jump on a ferry today…can I? Roscoff is like the most darling stone village picked up from the hills of France and plopped down by the sea. I immediately want to be here forever. Mary Stuart came here when she was only six; the Queen of Scotland and the future Queen of France. Two houses on the old harbor are named after her, although they weren’t built at the time of her visit (she was only six at the time, 1548). My mom, the genealogist, always said we were related to Mary, Queen of Scots, so I am interested in her and her history, even if it is not true.

the red buoy all alone
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Roscoff was founded in 1899 by Dr. Louis Bagot, as a place to take the air and sea water therapies. There are still centers for massage, hydrotherapy, treatments with algae, and sea water, rehabilitation and pain management. It is very discreet and the institutes are housed in beautiful historic buildings facing the water. There is also a college for marine biology. No wonder…when the tide is out, you can just walk out for miles and see the bare ocean bottom and all it has to offer. I wander through the town. October is off season, so there are few people and fewer restaurants open. The ones that are open have menus displayed out front, and of course I pick the one with lobsters! This one is for you, Devon…I have fish soup, grilled lobster with butter sauce, and a steamed whole artichoke. Unfortunately, I have coffee so I can make the hour and a half drive back to the mill, and I am wired all night.

water in the distance
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It’s not that I hate the mill. It’s very photogenic. But I don’t like the smell or the isolation. I cuddle up on the couch and see a spider directly over my head spinning a web, and all I can imagine is the spider in my hair. I hardly sleep all night long. I hear noises. It’s musty and chilly. It’s dark, really dark. I know I’m going to leave this place soon.