Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Isle de Brehat

Ever fancied living on an island? Always rather appealed to me as a kid. Brehat is the sort of place you might fancy heading to just before the breakdown of all civilization. Resident population of just over 300. About 10 minute  ferry ride from Paimpaul on the North coast. Actually it is two islands, imaginatively called North Island and South Island, joined by a narrow causeway. Plenty of boats, nice houses, one general store, a post office, plenty of retaurants (for the daytrippers who just descend in hordes in the summer), 3 lighthouses, 3 (non-opertional) windmills, a football pitch, couple of tennis courts, fertile soil, mild microclimate (displayed by plenty of palm trees in the gardens), herd of cows. Well that's about it. But probably all you need to survive.

Oh and a glass works set up in the old citadel, churning out very nice, but expensive, glass. Very jolly watching the glassblowers in action. And at least you can understand why the stuff is not cheap when you see the time and skill that goes into making it. Spent about 4 hours pottering about the island, catching the last ferry back to the mainland at 7 pm. Yes not much chance for a late night on the mainland, but if you fancied somewhere quiet you could do a lot worse. But check timetables. We managed to arrive 5 minutes too late for an hourly service. And nothing to do on the port side beyond going to the toilet.















Now one thing one sees with the French. They take every opportunity to be shut. Because its Sunday. Or Monday. Or out of season (and in many places season just means July and August). Ot its lunchtime. Or all of the above. So most of the time, you are going to fiind something shut. Arriving at a restaurant at 1:30 for lunch, we were declined a table, not because there were no empty tables, but just because they had been busy. Basically, everything is too much trouble. Come back when more convenient for the proprietor. Another day. Gallic shrug.

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