Bretagne, Part 2 — Thursday (the 23rd of May) we took a boat tour of the Golfe du Morbihan with a long stop on Île-aux-Moines. We got on the ferry at Port Blanc and about three minutes later were already there. Pascale, as usual, had done her research, so we set off on the red walking route, marked on the road at various intersections.

This island was beautiful and green and sometimes reminded me of Sunapee. Seriously. Check this out . . .

But then I’d see something like this . . .

Or this crêperie with the thatched roof . . .

. . . where I had this amazing salad for lunch . . .

. . . after we returned from our walk out to the point. Here’s the map.

A few sights along the way . . .

La chapel Sainte Anne, Île-aux-Moines

Didn’t even notice the lizard when I took this shot!

Île-aux-Moines, France

I absolutely soaked in the peace of the place.

After lunch and a winding stroll back down to the port we caught the boat for the tour of the entire gulf. The guide was apparently hilarious, since everyone kept laughing, but I understood next to nothing due to the distortion of the sound system coupled with my limited attention as I enjoyed the sunshine and taking a bazillion photos. Still loved it. By the end the light just kept getting more and more beautiful. The photo doesn’t really capture it, but here’s the best I’ve got . . .

Bonus, my 17,000 steps gave me permission to have this for desert at dinner . . .

I couldn’t quite finish it (Jacky had no trouble with his). Isn’t it a work of art?

I am so grateful for this opportunity to be back in France with friends who care about me and remember great times with David. Also for new adventures that remind me that my life is not over. There’s always more to see and do. I know. But I’m also revisiting favorite places from the past, partly to prove to myself I can. The other day I walked across the street from La Grosse Horloge (the huge clock that’s a major landmark in La Rochelle) over to Cours des Dames, one of the main places I associate with David. He loved people-watching there, waiting for me after my French lessons. Just as I stepped up on the curb and faced the pedestrian walkway, I could feel a wave of sadness threatening. Suddenly I heard David saying, “Don’t start thinking how sad you are I’m not here, because I am here. I’m with you everywhere. . . .” And of course he is. He is a part of me.

So the adventure continues . . . .

I’m now installed in the super-cute little house I’m renting for the next month.

Front door leads into the living room, with the bedroom on the left. It’s basically a U. In the photo below the kitchen is on the right, bathroom on the left, living room next to the kitchen, bedroom where I stood to take this photo–wrapped around this perfect, private little space, with doors leading out from all of them. Love it!

So now I have a few minutes to tell you about our adventures in Brittany, or as it’s called here in France, Bretagne (the end rhymes with lasagne). We were headed to the Gulf of Morbihan, where Pascale had planned various excursions to see ALL of it, including islands in the middle. Thanks, Pascale! All of it was well worth seeing. Way too much for one post, so here’s Part 1.

We packed up and headed out from La Rochelle around 9:30 a.m. Wednesday the 22nd and made it to Vannes in time for lunch at our first of many traditional Breton crêperies. We walked through the base of the tower out to a stone-walled terrace.

La Tour Trompette, Crêperie, Vannes

Pascale at lunch La Tour Trompette, Vannes

Jacky’s flambéed dessert

The most impressive part, though, was les toilettes — the tiniest, wedge-shaped, stone-walled, low-ceilinged, claustrophobia-inducing WC, too tiny even to take a photo, except of this sign by the tiny sink:

So, yeah, note to self: It could be worse.

I sure wish I had been participating in FitBit challenges, because I would have rocked it. I logged roughly 17,000 steps a day Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Wednesday and Sunday we were driving there and back, and I still managed 12,500 on Wednesday and 8,000 on Sunday. Wednesday was high because the lunch stop in Vannes included a walk around the town . . .

Translation: Vannes and his wife

Vannes, France

Vannes, France

Then Wednesday evening we also walked to dinner, twenty minutes from the hotel down to the port in Auray. And back, of course . . UP.

But in the company of friends, even that wasn’t too bad! My lesson for the day: life can be hard, but it can also be beautiful. Pascale and Jacky’s next door neighbor apparently agrees:

Pascale, Jacky and I have been taking advantage of every moment. We returned Sunday afternoon from our five-day adventure in southern Brittany, (the part that sticks out on the northwestern corner of France). I will tell you all about it, but I’m not even going to begin that yet!

To keep it chronological . . .

Monday, the 20th, Jacky drove us forty-five minutes or so southeast of La Rochelle to visit the Château de la Roche Courbon. Click on the link (then on the Union Jack flag for English) for more about it.  If you’re not that interested in reading more of the history, you can just trust me it was interesting and gorgeous.

Here are a few photos, a little gift of beauty for you. Enjoy! (Remember you can click on any photo to make it larger.)

Château de la Roche Courbon, France

Château de la Roche Courbon

Château de la Roche Courbon

Château de la Roche Courbon

Château de la Roche Courbon

Château de la Roche Courbon

Château de la Roche Courbon

Château de la Roche Courbon

The family that has owned this amazing place for several generations still lives here and opens it to the public for all kinds of events, in addition to the regular tours.

The story of this château and its gardens inspired me by its history of determination. It was built, improved, then abandoned, then suffered various reverses, then was restored. At some point over the centuries the gardens were amazingly built on marshland. What?!?No worries for drought, but of course various complicated drainage issues had to be expensively addressed in the 1930s and again in the nineties. The gardens are actually now supported on deep piles driven through the marshland down to bedrock.

I love this image of driving a pile down through the muck to bedrock and the resulting beauty that is possible. Makes me think of the encouragement of the psalms.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress. I will never be shaken.  Psalm 62:2 NIV

I patiently waited, Lord, for you to hear my prayer. You listened and pulled me from a lonely pit full of mud and mire. You let me stand on a rock with my feet firm, and you gave me a new song, a song of praise to you.  Psalm 40: 1-3a CEV

Wishing you abundant beauty to share, anchored on bedrock to see you safely through the mud and mire!