We spent a night in a Travel Lodge close to Folkestone before taking the chunnel across to Calais and then driving to Morlaix - that's in the Finistere department of France - Brittany to you and me. With around 400 miles of driving to get to our destination it might have been better to get a ferry from Plymouth to Roscoff - but the blonde likes driving - she's not a good passenger, can't sleep or read on a journey (unlike me) - and so was happy to take full responsibility for driving duties!
Soon after we emerge from the tunnel we start the time honoured litany of English folk on the continent - "The French are so much more stylish, more cultured" - We join in, eating croissants with jam and excellent coffee and resolve to kick out the schoolboy Franglais once and for all - "I'm going to learn French properly" I say. "How great would it be to go into a restaurant and confidently order something and be sure of knowing what you're going to get"
Our stay on a farm about 7 Km from Morlaix gives us just the base we need. It's quiet, rural and our accommodation is all we need. Outside is a field with three donkeys who quickly learn that positioning themselves near to our window and braying loudly will result in a reward of a handful of carrots.
|The Church at Garlan|
|Morlaix with the viaduct|
|Streets in Morlaix|