Brittany May - June 2023
We have been missing our fix of French feasts of flowery meadows, butterflies, birds, whopping catches in the moth trap, and lovely countryside. After three years of Covid-led abstinence we returned in May this year.
We took the campervan on our usual crossing from Plymouth to Roscoff. Kim came too, as she was able to tear herself away from her painting, gardening, sheep and not least her family, for the two weeks that we also felt we could spare from the garden in late May. We travelled overnight with a cabin so we could arrive in France fresh and ready for a full day to get our bearings. We had no grand plan except to stay within Brittany. We didn’t want to travel great distances and decided to follow our noses and let the weather and countryside dictate our route.
The crossing was glassy-calm and in the last of the evening light as we left the Cornish coast, we enjoyed the company of pods of Dolphins (or were they porpoises?) swimming close to the surface alongside us.
. Sun setting over Dodman Point
Map of Brittany. Our travels this trip only went to the far west. Roscoff is just above the 'o' in Morlaix, and we went down to about the 'E' in E60,so we looked at only a small area in this big region.
May 24th ‘23
The ship’s tannoy woke us at 4.30 the next morning and we got ready and drove off at 6.30, with a minimum of fuss, though we once again had to have our passports stamped like the old days when our passports reminded us of all our past travels.
We at once drove to our first port of call, a little bay just South of Roscoff (Grand Grève) where we could eat our breakfast and take a stroll up the lane. Nothing has changed since our last visit.
K: After breakfast we walked slowly up the lane past a field with two young draught horses – proper Breton four-square ladies, one a dark mottled Palomino, the other chestnut. They were friendly and quiet. Their field was lush with grasses, Red Campion and Buttercups and Swallows and Sand Martins were hawking over it. Serins’ jangly songs came from the Tamarisks and we saw them to confirm their ident..
The roadside is planted up beautifully as ever, with several different sorts of perennial Geraniums, Marigolds, Emily’s plant, white and pink-flowered Ixias, Jacks, sumptuous Yellow Buttons, Dierama, Roses, Rock Valerian, Rosy Woodruff, Osteospermums, Saxifrage….all interspersed with quirky bits of driftwood and bits of iron, and some plant names painted on bits of slate. The roadside cottage had blue shutters and lovely pink roses and valerian. One is now a gîte.
The next stop was in St Pol de Leon a little way South where we turned into the Super U for our first week's supply of wine and for Tony's browse along the fish counter with its usual fantastic display of so many sorts of fish and other sea creatures, discarded (or exported) by us conservative and inherently suspicious Brits. There was even a cabinet selling a variety of tools, each with a specialized purpose for dismembering the crabs and shells.
A chilly NE wind was blowing but the sky was clear. No threatening rain to dictate whether we went in any particular direction to avoid it, so we headed more or less south, first following the Morlaix estuary and then a side creek for our first leg stretch and mid-morning drinks.
Pont Eon.
Driving South-west through quiet valleys and up over low ridges often with Chestnut woodland with Hazel and Oak with some Holly, and weedy corners and patches of heathland. The farms were scattered rather than clustered in villages, with occasional dairy or beef herds; very few sheep. Barley and wheat in ear but still green, young maize, potatoes. We were now away from the un-hedged coastal fields and now in well-wooded country with generous hedges.
Kim, from log....On again, with the quartzite ridge of Mont d’Arree to our SE then well-wooded valleys to the west with tor-like rocky outcrops in heathy moorland ground above the woods, with bushes and low trees growing in the tussocky moor grass. We found a very quiet lane along one of these ridges and have stopped alongside. No cars have passed, just a couple on mountain bikes and two walkers.
I’m now writing this at 8.40pm French time (an hour ahead of UK), with Chiffchaff, Chaffinch, Blackbird, Yellowhammer, Wren and Blackcap singing. To the West we can see the sun shining on the complex inlets of the Râde de Brest.There was lovely hazy sunshine with thin high cloud, but a fresh NE wind has got up now in the evening and backed northerly so it’s cooler here behind the van.
A Cuckoo called from the silhouetted crags and the sun is lowering in a now cloudless sky. A fingernail of moon is hanging above us.
The crags of Menez Meur by our first night stop.
M. from log:
First time lucky for once, we found our old night stopping place. It is unchanged except there is more arable with maize being grown under plastic in the old grazing fields.
After a cuppa we set off for the marsh and lake. The big cattle-handling pen in the first field is no longer in use, but the puddles in the gateway were giving a lot of hive bees a drink. It later transpired there were a dozen hives in the far side of the meadow behind the van. No wonder the bees seemed to be flying straight at us before lifting over the hedge!
In the photo above, the track goes as far as the bridge over the River Ellez where it runs into the lake, (from log:)but the bridge has been flooded and you need wellies to pick your way over the remains of it. A Greylag Goose was sitting on a nest at the side of the lake beside a raft of floating Water Crowfoot white with its flowers. Several Large Red Damsels about, and we had a debate about a couple of Swifts/Hobbies hawking away over the Mont St Michel ridge. It was difficult to decipher their size or their distance.
Continued from Log:
Coming back we saw a Marsh Fritillary, and thanks to Kim’s sharp eyes and practised ear, we heard then saw a Tree Pipit in the top of a small Oak and later, a Reed Bunting.
We’d hardly sat down for our wine & nibbles back at the van when a female Cuckoo flew past close to us, followed by a clucking male. In June he changes his tune! Though there is plenty of wind even in this sheltered place, it is benign and warm sitting here in the sun at 5 to 7pm. Curry meal in preparation, again thanks to Kim. As I write this, the sun has gone behind a cloud. There has been more today. A Chiffchaff is singing behind the van.
We continued, just a leisurely wander through pleasant quiet countryside and villages.
We admired the fancy stonework of the church towers such as this Parish Close in the little town of Pleben. These 'Parish Closes' are a feature of the Breton village churches. They mostly date from the 16th Century and within the churchyard enclosure they have a tall decorated calvary and a separate ossuary building alongside the church.
Kim was navigating but the by-word seemed to be ‘I’m not REALLY sure where we are, exactly’ but it didn’t seem to matter. Barley, potatoes, meadows with hay-making well under way, maize, now as we went further south it was no longer being protected by plastic, well-grown generous hedges,,, and we stopped at the side of a field in which was for us, a novel crop.
It was a field of chives. By the look of the size of the flowering clumps, the crop had been in for at least a couple of years and we wondered what they were being grown for. We had a good look and saw an interesting mix of arable weeds and at last, quite a few Meadow Brown butterflies, and several other species including what turned out to be the only Painted Lady of the trip.
After a slightly frustrating search for a quiet place to stop for the rest of the day, we found a small parking area at the side of an estuary leading inland from the Crozon Peninsula.
M:from log:
After a cuppa to recover, and with a Spotted Flycatcher in the Willow over our heads, we strolled up the wide stony beach. A big area of stranded bright green seaweed was being foraged by a Crow and a pair of Blackbirds who were feeding young near us by the look of their frequent journeys to and from the depths of the nearby hedge.
We noted a big patch of very buxom Sea Beet at the head of the beach which Kim picked later for our evening meal, and we sat in the warm sun out of the wind, on the big granite boulders protecting the top of the beach and a re-enforcing row of big Maritime Pines behind. A Grey Heron and a Little Egret flew in to patrol the beach where the almost static tide was coming in very slowly. We walked up to an old square walled sea-pool which appears to flood and fill at big high tides. Nothing much in it but a few small fish and some weed.
Back at the van while Kim wandered, T and I were closely watched by 2 or 3 young French children who seemed to be mesmerised by us foreigners! Their Mum had a job to dislodge them!
Kim came back with talk of the nearby meadow, hidden by the thick Blackbird nesting hedge, with lots of Burnet moths. We all went to look and saw the Five-spot Burnets, Common Blue and Kim saw a possible Sooty Copper. We still have to check that. (Later confirmed.)
Second lot of curry this evening augmented by stir-fried Sea Beet (very good) and then T & K went off down the beach. This place seems popular with locals, their dogs, fishing etc. A bunch of teenage schoolboys came down, a party of BBQ-ers settled upstream for the evening and a bunch of local lads stayed further down the beach, yarning, for hours, but no-one disturbed us when they all eventually packed up and went home.
Later, we were back among granite hills and one evening we pulled off up a stony track where conifers had been felled and the native heathland of gorse bracken and heather was re-establishing.
We set up the moth trap nearby and before we had settled for the night, a night jar churred several times quite near.
, We can only sleep two comfortably in the van so Kim put her 'bivvy bag' out on the edge of the heath. She saw two Nightjars fly down to the ground close to her and one flew away. She saw more movement there the next morning and sure enough she spotted the hen Nightjar sitting on her nest in the dead Bracken, not 5 paces from her!
The nightjar nest was just in here!
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Kim drew her as she sat tight, completely un-bothered by us coming and going, gazing at her through the telescope and undoing the moth trap. Try as I might, I couldn't really see her, so well her cryptic plumage camouflaged her in the dead bracken she was nesting in. Her golden eyelids showed up best!
We reluctantly tore ourselves away and resumed our wanderings.
Lunchstop by a meadow full of Ragged Robin, where Kim and I watched a Beautiful Demoiselle damselfly guarding his mate from rivals as she laid her eggs in the damp waterweeds in the wet ditch beside this meadow.
Then on to the next feast of wildlife.
Etang de Samoel. It was warm and sunny and sheltered from the constant NE wind. Dragonflies and damsels were abundant.
KIm: Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly and mating Azure Damsels at the lake.
Now and then we saw a Coypu swimming across the lake and, from her bivvy bag the next morning Kim saw one close to her. It was feeding on armfuls of waterweed, chewing with its strong orange front teeth when it came to the surface.
We then decided to follow the Nantes- Brest Canal for a way as it went more or less NW towards Brest., sometimes joining the River Aulne sometimes the River Blavet. We met it at intervals where the road crossed it or ran close-by and it gave us a variety of interesting tow-path walks.
The Nantes-Brest canal. A passing cyclist told Tony, as they gazed from the bridge, that he'd never seen the water level so low. He reckoned work was being done on one of the locks so the level had been deliberately lowered.
Kim walked along the waters edge along here and saw freshwater crayfish.
We worked our way along the canalized rivers making the westward end of the Nantes-Brest canal, stopping at frequent access points. Some stretches are navigable by canoe, other are not. The numerous locks are usually not functional so portages have to be made, but the towpath is still mostly accessible for walkers and cyclists.
Typical lock-keeper's cottage.
Large areas of oak woodland in the west were completely defoliated. We suspected fire or disease, but as we came nearer we saw the cause.
Literally millions of small bright green moths, the Green Oak Tortrix Moth, were flying among the trees over a very wide area. Their caterpiilars eat the young oak leaves, stripping the trees.
We had seen a similar infestation on the Island of Lesvos a few years earlier, and there are quite frequent records of this moth being seen in Cornwall this year.
It is said to be subject to great surges in numbers in some years in the south of Britain, possibly from immigrants.
As the trip neared its end we went up to the north Brittany coast, starting at Aber Wrac'h.
Low water in the bay exposed the numerous oyster farms in the bay. Netting racks are placed on the wooden supports and the young oysters grow on the racks until they are a harvestable size. This is a huge industry up the west and north coasts of France.
This fine coast alternates between a stretches of sand dunes and fearsomely rock -strewn headlands.
The dunes support aa interesting flora and lots of butterflies.
This is Bloody Cranesbill.
Jersey Orchids and Ragged Robin in the damp meadows behind the dunes.
Kim's Jersey Orchid.
Our last evening walk from our campsite not far west of Roscoff.
