Like the back of my hand.......
Lannion Travel Blog› entry 4 of 7 › view all entries
Seems like I'm leaving the house later and later as the days fly past. I have honestly never walked as much as this since........well, since the trip to Cornwall last month. I told Mark that I thought I'd walked off the last ounce of fat that had been clinging to my thighs since bingeing on scones, clotted cream and jam a couple of weeks back.
Today I waited until after lunch to walk into Lannion city centre because I knew that the shops would be open again beginning about 1330 or so. I filled up my morning updating this blog, reading and answering emails and generally laying about just because I felt like it. I gathered up the laundry to take downstairs as Mme.
The city centre was a bee hive of activity when I made my way down through the now familiar narrow streets. For some reason I was feeling quite fatigued at the onset. My legs were aching something awful and reminded me of the time I had shin splints after playing too many days of tennis in a row. I decided to walk on the "left bank" of the town, an area across the river from my usual track. I walked past the train station where we had arrived just days before and up the hill into an area that appeared to be the old section of the town.
I finally decided to take a break myself and have a bite to eat as well as a delicious cafe au lait at a corner pub called "Le Chope". The meal wasn't all that brilliant but the quiche and salad filled the hole in my stomach.
Not long after Mark returned from work, M. Stervinou made good on his promise to drive us along the coastline to see some of the red granite formations for which this part of Bretagne is known. The towns adjacent to Lannion are considered resort areas and are jammed with tourists during the weeks of the summer season. Monsieur S. explained that these areas are booked a year in advance and even though the summer of 2007 was cold and rainy, the crowds converged without hesitation as the vacations were already planned and lodging already paid. No self respecting holiday maker would throw money down the drain just because of a little squall.
In the short time before dusk we made our way through Perreos-Guirec, Ploumanac'h, Tregastel and countless other Breton named villages that hugged the sometimes rugged and sometimes sandy beached coastline.
The rain which had threatened our pleasure earlier was now splattering the windshield as we arrived home. As this was not condusive to a walk back into town, we gratefully accepted the offer of a ride from Natasha, the daughter of our hosts. Natasha, who is also in the airline business, was down visiting from Paris and very kindly accepted the task of dropping us off in the town centre. She speaks excellent English as well as fluent Italian and no doubt some Spanish as we ran across her former Spanish teacher as we were driving up to our restaurant. Another tasty meal of galettes, mine with assorted seafood in a rich cream sauce along with the "salad" (this one had a wedge of tomato on top) and Mark's, which contained ham, cheese and a fried egg on top. With his orange crepe for dessert and my apple sorbet swimming in Calvados (an apple liqueur), we finished off our meal as our ride magically reappeared at the exact moment we stepped out of the restaurant. A perfect ending to another perfect day in the land of the Gaulois.