Today is another bright and sunny day, excellent for our intended itinerary, the Presqu’ile de Crozon, meaning the almost island of Crozon. Crozon is a small town in the next northerly peninsula, from which one can travel to a handful of jutting promontories. The three star attraction is Pointe du Penhir, which also contains a number of German battlements. On the way back to the road we stopped at yet more alignments of standing stones.
These prehistoric stones are interesting, by the way, not only for their placement, but because the stone is not of a local type. So whoever placed them in the alignments brought them from many miles away – not an easy trick back in the day.
Thanks to our hoteliers, we knew to stop in the harbor area of Crozon for lunch, and wandered past a couple of dozen restaurants before finding one that was just about perfect. I had a bandade of cod (sale code mixed with potatoes and herbs) mostly because it came with a green salad which we have not seen much of lately. Tom had the blue plate special, a sautéed cod fillet with potatoes. We fell into conversation with the couple next to us, who turned out to be Dutch, and chatted for an hour about our travels, life in the Netherlands and in the US. They were quite interesting to chat with, but in time the restaurant had to close for the afternoon, and we all had some kilometers to cover, we said our goodbyes.
We headed off to Pointe des Espagnols, so called because of a fort that had been built there in the 16th century. The view here was not of breathtaking rocks and cliffs but of the opposite cast to the north – the city of Brest and the development along its shores. Not nearly as interesting as the natural sights of the region.
As we made our way back to Duoarnenez, we stopped in at a cookie outlet – Brittany is famous for its butter cookies, and two, count them, two brocantes – meaning something like a used stuff store, a notch or two lower than an antique store. But not much appealed.
So ended our last day in Brittany.
These prehistoric stones are interesting, by the way, not only for their placement, but because the stone is not of a local type. So whoever placed them in the alignments brought them from many miles away – not an easy trick back in the day.
Thanks to our hoteliers, we knew to stop in the harbor area of Crozon for lunch, and wandered past a couple of dozen restaurants before finding one that was just about perfect. I had a bandade of cod (sale code mixed with potatoes and herbs) mostly because it came with a green salad which we have not seen much of lately. Tom had the blue plate special, a sautéed cod fillet with potatoes. We fell into conversation with the couple next to us, who turned out to be Dutch, and chatted for an hour about our travels, life in the Netherlands and in the US. They were quite interesting to chat with, but in time the restaurant had to close for the afternoon, and we all had some kilometers to cover, we said our goodbyes.
We headed off to Pointe des Espagnols, so called because of a fort that had been built there in the 16th century. The view here was not of breathtaking rocks and cliffs but of the opposite cast to the north – the city of Brest and the development along its shores. Not nearly as interesting as the natural sights of the region.
As we made our way back to Duoarnenez, we stopped in at a cookie outlet – Brittany is famous for its butter cookies, and two, count them, two brocantes – meaning something like a used stuff store, a notch or two lower than an antique store. But not much appealed.
So ended our last day in Brittany.
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