The Young One and the Medium One Rent a Car

Coucou, Winslow here to give you all the details about our time in Bretagne, specifically Saint-Malo, during our second week of February break. « Details » referring to what you have not seen from the medium one’s Facebook check-ins. Inevitably, we began in Paris, the gateway to France. For all of you who view the City of Love as your magical getaway destination, or simply the best city in the world, I’m sure you have your reasons. The little amount of time I have spent in Paris (back in 2017 for the young one’s study abroad program, multiple layovers, catching a train, etc) has not been long enough to find those magical things in the city. Nor do I personally care to spend enough time there to find them. To me, to the young one, the boyfriend, and finally the medium one, it’s just another big city. Plus the Eiffel Tower and the world’s biggest art museum. After a couple days including an obligatory visit to the Louvre, watching the day turn to dusk on the lawn before the Tour Eiffel, and watching my three companions consume the French-est meals one could possibly consume, the boyfriend parted ways and the young one told me how she was looking forward to immersing the medium one in a culture she’s never experienced before.

Day 1 in Bretagne We rented a car in Paris for the trip, a « game-changer » for traveling as the young one put it. For me, this meant a few things: 1. My head wasn’t in a bag all day. I was able to sit up and look out the window as we drove.

2. I didn’t have to listen to the young one stress out over how to get where, and when, and for how much money, and if it would be even worth it to go. We just hopped in the car each day and went anywhere, even if we didn’t know where to go yet.

3. Sometimes the young one considers not bringing me with her on a day trip or just for a walk. I’d love to do more simple things like that! In the car I got to go everywhere, even when there was food and extra layers to carry. Plenty of room to bring along anything, including me! It was a 4-hour drive to Saint Malo, to our lovely little beach-themed airbnb with a view of the port. I slept most of the way there, except when the young one woke me up to see the distinctly-shaped silhouette of Mont-Saint Michel on the horizon. Our first impression of the little fortified town was « WOW it’s gorgeous here! » We all took a stroll down to the ramparts just in time for the sunset. You can walk all the way around the ramparts of the city, with the medieval town down below on one side, and the ocean on the other, a view complete with more rugged coastline, and numerous tiny islands, some with forts built upon them.

[view of the port right outside the airbnb]

The three of us were excited to spend a whole day just exploring the little town! That night I stayed in while my two companions went out for some beers at an Irish pub. I have come to the understanding that Irish pubs are the place to be in France. Day 2 Started the day at the market down the street, a quintessential French experience for the medium one. The rest of the day was spent in and out of the car, driving leisurely without a solid plan. That really sums up the trip in Bretagne anyway; nothing planned, just quality time with each other! We were ultimately trying to end up at the pink granite coast, but realized after making multiple stops on our drive west that it was an unrealistic goal. We would have been in the car forever if we had gone all the way there! But we saw some really cool stuff, including the medium one’s first chateau!

The Château de Guildo is in ruins, but I always find it interesting to wonder what all the bits and pieces used to be. It was here that we also got our first glimpse of the extreme tides of Bretagne.

Next stop was Fort La Latte, a strategically-placed fortified castle that is very well-restored.

From there it was a stunning view, and to our left in the distance we could see our next destination: Cap Fréhel. On this peninsula is a really old lighthouse (far left), overshadowed by the more iconic new lighthouse. There was some construction going on when we were there, the visitor center was closed, and there were no signs or information about the site.

From where we were the pink-tinted cliffs plunged down into the sea, and here and there a person or two was perched bravely on a more faraway cliff with a camera or something. I saw the young one admiring pink slate carvings set up to display the types of birds one could see here. She declared that she would like to see a puffin, and was distraught that she never did.

Then, with the pink coast still in mind at this point, the young one took the wheel of our VW Golf and began to head further west. We saw stunning beaches, and in the young one’s attempt to continue driving close to the coast to admire said beaches, she got a little lost and went up a road that wasn’t meant for cars. She gets so flustered when driving it’s hilarious! Personally I prefer the medium one’s driving. We got to Paimpol right before sunset and we all agreed to make this the end of our western drive. Paimpol isn’t anything extraordinary; it’s a small town built around its port, which is packed with sailboats. We saw some men unloading tons of oysters on the docks.

I accompanied the girls to a patisserie where the young one introduced the medium one to almond croissants, and then on a brief stroll down to a tiny strip of beach. The medium one admired the charming houses made of bits of pink stone, and the young one noted how different they are from the stucco or plain tan bricks she’s used to seeing. The young one enjoyed trees with huge blooming magenta flowers and wondered why and how palm trees grew all the way up there.

On the dark drive back to Saint-Malo I thought about my favorite part of having the medium one here with us. It’s the awe she has all the time for the views, for all the old things, for houses, for anything about France that the young one and I have become so accustomed to. It was like seeing France for the first time. Day 3 The young one had heard great things about the quaint little town of Dinan, only a short drive from Saint-Malo. When we went, though, in the morning, it was so foggy we could hardly enjoy its good looks, so all we did was visit the cathedral. This was the first cathedral the medium one had entered! The second was that of Saint Malo, of course. We headed back to spend the day exploring the « intra-muros » of the city. The cathedral there is an interesting mix of old and new because it was destroyed in the war and rebuilt relatively recently. When you look at a photo of Saint-Malo it’s the pew of the cathedral that pokes up above everything else. It’s what gives Saint Malo its characteristic shape. The intra-muros is where the medium one did her souvenir shopping, where other shops reside amongst restaurants, and where one can find the classic local pastry called kouign-amann.

Everything within the walls is packed tight, with narrow streets and buildings that block the sun. Everything is the same grey-brown brick color. It had a different feel from most French cities, but I preferred being up on the ramparts. The young one was enthusiastic to walk out to Grand Bé, which is only possible at low tide.

Back when the young one and I went to Mont Saint Michel we were able to walk around the whole island thanks to the low tide. When the tide is high it reaches the base of the castle, not permitting you to walk around. Even after learning this, the full magnitude of the extreme tides in Bretagne was not fully realized until this trip. They are not unique to Mont Saint Michel but to the whole region, and the three of us marveled at how wherever we went, sailboats were disposed of on a barren shore and left to lay on their sides. With the passing of only a couple hours, they would arise, alive again. The people of Bretagne adapt to the tides by walling off their ports, or get creative with functionality with a swimming pool like this one:

As you can see, the pool is left filled when the tide goes back down. As you can imagine, when the tide is high, there appears to be a set of stairs leading to nothing. Anyway, on Grand Bé is nothing but the tomb of the good old Chateaubriand. He’s kind of a big deal around there. He was a famous author between the late 1700s and early 1800s, born in Saint-Malo, and whose butler created some dish that’s named after him.

["A great French writer wanted to rest here to listen to nothing but the sea and the wind. Respect his last wishes." Poor fella has to listen to all the tourists too.]

Also visible off the shore of Saint-Malo is Petit Bé (that has a fort on it), Fort National, a few more forts on other tiny islands, a lonely lighthouse, and Cap Fréhel way out there in the distance. Forts, forts, and more forts. Then I got to watch the young one and the medium one enjoy some galette and cider at a crêperie right on the ramparts overlooking the Bés. I’m not sure why the young one always tries to include me in her food pictures; it’s not like restaurants are significant places for me. It’s like she feels bad and needs to include me in our meals somehow.

By the time we had watched the sunset from the end of the pier the medium one was pretty walked-out. The young one and I are not used to traveling with someone who is, well, medium. We don’t tire so easily so we tended to check in a lot with how the medium one’s feet were holding up. Luckily, she was usually doing great, better than expected! Even so, it was a relief for everyone to be able to hop in a car for the brief ride home to the airbnb. Day 4 The sculptured rocks we saw on this morning, gazing out from the cliffside into the ocean (probably to watch the enemy ships attack all those forts) were very cool. They were made by a disabled priest in the late 1800s.

We continued along the coast then, this time east, stopping at Point Grouin, figuring we might as well go as far as Cancale.

If you are to do anything in Cancale, which you might not, it is to sample oysters. From the 6-booth outdoor oyster market you can pick out and eat fresh oysters while looking out at the expanse of oyster farms from which they came.

Some people, presumably locals, in their oyster-farming getup, couples and groups, were heading out amongst the water tractors and mollusk cages and sinking sand. Apparently you’re allowed to find your own oysters, but only if you trudge way out there. I can’t imagine enjoying an oyster! They look so slimy and snotty and full of ocean water and probably sand. The medium one quite enjoys them though. The young one followed suit as we sat amongst piles and piles of discarded shells and half-lemons. She said she quite liked them.

Back in Saint Malo I asked to be left at the airbnb while the two of them went to take a stroll on the beach just outside and to explore the part of Saint Malo nearest us called Le Cité. They told me about more beaches they saw over there, some sort of tower, and restaurants. They ate, came home and disturbed my peace, left to eat more, and then came back again. Not sure of the young one has ever eaten out so often in her life! Day 5 We left Saint-Malo first thing in the morning toward Fougères, home to the « Fabuleux Château de Fougères », one of Europe’s largest medieval fortresses. In times of attack or danger the population of the surrounding town would seek refuge within its walls.

The young one and the medium one took advantage of the audioguides to get some history in on the region of Bretagne. As I travel, history becomes more and more interesting because it is significant to all the things I see in real life! History has become a crucial part of traveling. We also had some time to go to the jardin publique in the town where we enjoyed the best view of the castle from above, and the landscape beyond.

And just like that I was in the back seat again on the way to Paris, where driving in the city made us all nervous, and the medium one had to say goodbye to the young one. Something I’ll never quite grasp is a mother’s love. That sounds dramatic but it’s true. I am so lucky though to have the love of the young one, the tall one, the short one, and also the medium one! We both thanked the medium one for coming to visit us. We also would like to thank the weather for holding up so nicely, the kind owners of our airbnb even though they had not stocked the toilet paper, the ocean for providing fresh Bretagne seafood, Chateaubriand, the disabled rock-carving priest, those who did not attack the forts and therefore left them intact for us to enjoy, the marine wildlife team whom we watched save a washed-up seal, and puffins. Oh, and you guys, who read this. The young one and I both hope that the medium one had a visit to France that she’ll never forget, and that we have inspired her to return to Europe in the future! As Chateaubriand would say, « Every man carries within himself a world made up of all that he has seen and loved; and it is to this world that he returns, incessantly, though he may pass through and seem to inhabit a world quite foreign to it. » Goodbye! Winslow