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Distance: | 360 miles |
Difficulty:
| Easy to moderate. A good bus makes it easier.
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Way-marking:
| Excellent. Traditional red and white GR markings. |
Trails:
| Combination of beach, rocks, forests, and paved roads. Fairly level.
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| Lodging Styles: | Small hotels and B&Bs
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| Best Season: | Fall. It's cool and dry. Fewer tourists. |
Highlights:
| A beautiful shoreline that takes in the ancient cities of St.Malo, Fort LaLatte, and Saint Michel. Good food and wine.
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David's Notes on Walking Brittany
France has always been one of our favorite places for long distance walking. It’s diverse terrain, friendly rural population, the “rewards” at the end of the day and good network of transportation make it a wonderful country in which to walk. It is here where we learned that proper preparations must take place to meet your great expectations or you will fail in your attempt as we did. With just pages torn from a hiking book we tried to do the Robert Lewis Stevenson Trail in Southeast France in1991. Needless to say we didn’t get very far, but we did gain an understanding of what France could offer a long distance hiker.
When I looked for a trail to do this fall I pulled out a book I had purchased many years ago, “The Brittany Coastal Path” or GR 34 by Alan Castle. It is a walk that goes from the Port of Morlaix 360 miles (580km) to Mont. St. Michel in Normandy. It is also referred to as the Tro-Briez in Bretton, a pilgrimage walk from the Middle Ages that visits the seven major cathedrals in Brittany. Since the book was written the trail has been extended further south 75 miles. It is a well-marked trail that usually always turns you in the right direction and has red and white crosses to tell you not to go that direction. When in doubt always look on the other side of the marker to verify your direction. The footing is good as the trail uses dirt, sand and smooth water washed rocks with some rural country roads thrown in. Unlike most coastal paths the GR 34 takes you inland to visit many historic places.
Brittany (Briez Izel in Bretton, Bretagne in French) is 10,939 square mile peninsula jutting out into the Atlantic which is found in the northwest corner of France. Occupied by Romans in the first century, it was invaded by Charlemagne and the Franks in 800 AD. It was during this time that the Danes and Norsemen invaded the British Isles. This forced people to flee to Wales and Ireland. Led by Monks many went across the Sea to Brittany. In 845 AD the Celts defeated the Franks in a battle near Redon. Today you see signs in both French and Bretton in much of Brittany, that which you also find in Wales.
With all of the bays and little peninsulas you can use your map to cut off a tip and shorten your day. My basic rule for the length of a hiking day is “15 miles or 4:30”. After 15 miles or by 4:30 PM I want to find my boots under a table in a pub enjoying my “rewards” beer. Usually, you eat breakfast by 8:00 and are on the trail by 9:30 after acquiring your lunch and snacks for the day. The 7 miles before lunch and 8 after lunch usually gets you to the pub around 4 to 4:30 PM. Perfect timing for your rewards and it gives you plenty of time to scout out where lunch will come from the next day. Then you can leisurely clean up and wash clothes before you go to dinner.
Since Brittany is almost surrounded by water, the Atlantic Ocean dominates its climate. It has a relatively mild climate that allows you to walk year round. During the time I was there I only had one day where it rained all day. Most of the time I was in shorts and short sleeved shirts. The vegetation reflects this mild climate where you find a Mediterranean Flora and fauna in most of the peninsula. On the day it did rain I must say IT DID RAIN. I was standing under a tree waiting for the skies to close a little when a car drove up to me. I was asked if I was in trouble. I said no, just waiting for this downpour to lessen. They laughed and said I didn’t know Bretton Weather. Off they went and they were right.
The Brittany Coast is served by a wonderful system of transportation. The buses are used to transport the school children, so it was easy to stay in one place two nights and take a bus out 15 miles and walk back with just a light pack. The next day you do the same but with your full 16-pound pack and four pounds of camera equipment. I must say that the “Bus Chauffeurs" are one of my favorite groups of French People. It is an event to ride on a rural bus. Like our Post Office, the busses offer a social life for that region. Romances take place, debates are held and people find out what others do. Our “Bus Chauffeurs” have gone 2 miles off of the route to take us to our hotel. Here I found out that 50,000 Britons had moved to Brittany in the last 10 years. Many have stayed year round and not purchased just summer homes. This has created problems for small school systems as up to 50% of the children don’t speak Bretton or French. Makes it hard to educate them. Sound somewhat familiar?
The “Bus Chauffeurs” bring up another point, that of trying to speak French. One day I asked for a ticket to Landrellec going from Trebeurden. I got one for Ploumanac’h. This was more expensive. When I got off the bus at Landrellec he just shrugged his shoulders. The next day I was ready for him. Not only did I have the bus schedule in hand, but also I was going to “Saint Anne”. In my perfect French I asked for a ticket to “Saint Anne”. Remembering me from yesterday he shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t understand you”. I then showed him the schedule and pointed to “Saint Anne”. He smiled and looked up at me and said,”oh, you want to go to Saint Anne.” Now this wasn’t the first time I was misunderstood. When I would tell the waiter I was on Demi Pension (room, dinner and breakfast) he would bring me a beer or “Pression”’. An enthusiastic person politely told me that they were used to a British accent trying to speak French and my American Accent kept me from being understood. Solution, write down what you are trying to get across and point to it. Otherwise work on your thumb up (one) as for a “reward” beer and Jambon and Fromage for your sandwich on a Petite Baguette.
Leaving Morlaix, which is dominated by its Railroad Viaduct, I walked a gentle up and down path along what is known as the Pink Granite Coast. One look at the stone homes one understands why it is called this. I quickly realized that I was in for a gourmet architectural feast for my eyes. I did shoot too much film on buildings I saw along the way, but they were so unique. This part of the GR is also dominated by its unusual amount of pink granite out cropping of rocks. As you walked the path you came to many small bays where boats where moored. Here you also found toilets, though Asian style, still toilets. The path also gives you a feeling that you haven’t walked far as you can look back across the bay and see where you started that day.
This was the first time I would be doing a path by myself. Usually, there is 2 to 4 heads trying to figure out the path. Since I found it so well marked I had little difficulty in following the GR 34. I did get off of the path once in a town I was going through. I believe I was engrossed in looking for a sign showing me where I could get a Magnum Ice Cream Bar instead of looking for the path markers. It turned, but I didn’t. On the way out of town I looked at my map and found I was north of the route. So I just went south through the town and picked it up again. Met a real nice older yellow lab watchdog as I made my detour. Woke him up and he came out barking at me. So I petted him and told him he did a great job and he went back to sleep.
I also realized that you shouldn’t book a B&B in a large town especially if you don’t know where it is located. My French is good enough to ask where it is located, but not good enough to understand the directions in how to get to it. When I came into Trebeurden that was exactly my problem. After my one long day I didn’t want to walk another hour trying to find it. This is where one of what I call my travel angels showed up. As I pulled out my map and looked up a man came by. Bon Jour I said, and he asked in English where I was from. Seems he’d been to the states and traveled a lot on the West Coast. He took my cell phone and called my B&B. They weren’t expecting me but would get my room ready. He said if I would wait for him to finish his walk, he would drive me to the B&B. I offered to buy him a beer or something and he refused. He just wanted to help me out. This happened to me many times. I am never really alone.
One of the most unusual sights for me was to see boats lying on the sea bottom. I have never seen tides that came and went out as far as they do in Brittany. One day eating my lunch on top of a former German Pillbox at Beg An Fry in 65-degree sunny weather, I just marveled at this phenomenon. The low tides did allow the people to collect seaweed that was left behind as the tide went out. This is an occupation that many are engaged in, but I don’t know why yet.
In the first ten days I hardy saw anyone on the path. If it was someone they were usually running past me. The quietness, the sunshine and blue coastal water was very refreshing to my mind and emotions after a long summer of work. Most Europeans vacation in August so October is a perfect month to get away and away from masses of people. This is also the time that others that work summer get away. Therefore, make sure you have what you need for the day in food and drink before you head out that day. Often the store you are counting on being open isn’t.
I met a friend, Paul Niedringhaus, in Paimpol after about 170 miles. He was to hike with me the next week. Paimpol is a large port with many weekenders that visit, much like Estes Park. They were having a festival with a few three-mast ships that had come to port. From Paimpol the Coastline went from a low-lying rocky coast to higher Heather and Bramble Bush topped cliffs.
Our first stop was in the small village of Lanloup. We had to go off of the trail to get to a Restaurant called “Le Halte La”. This place had been found for us by emailing the local tourist association. It was the only place near the length for my “Basic Rule” to take place. As we were trying to explain to the owner who we were the local equestrian champion rode his horse up to us. He translated for us, and why we where there. They took us to our rooms and we got our beers and sat out on the patio. Soon Mrs. Lorenzo brought us some warm snacks she made for us. As we went in for our second beer (small beers) Mr. Lorenzo said it was on the house. People showed up and had a beer and we enjoyed a brief conversation with them in broken English. That night we had a true Bretton Meal. First, we had chicken soup. Next we had an omelet topped like a pizza with many vegetables and some meat. At the same time we had a heavy gruel of white beans and jambon. We washed it down with a Red Bordeaux Superior wine.
As the night went on I went upstairs to get a Business Card for a new friend. As I couldn’t find the light switch for the hall I decided to bring down my headlamp for the later journey back up stairs. My new friend pointed to it and said “Capitalist”!! I answered and said, “you bet I am a Capitalist” much to his horror. I then pulled off the headlamp and pointed to it and said “Petzel, French Company, Capitalists”and everybody laughed. I then asked him about his taxes to which he grimaced, shook his hand. I then pointed to him and said “Socialist” to that everybody again laughed. Next thing we knew Mr. Lorenzo brought out his 1943 OrangeaMatic juice squeezer. The Rival Corporation of Kansas City, Kansas City made it. We had to take a picture of it with him holding it. The next morning we repeated the picture taking as Mrs. Lorenzo brought it out again. What a truly wonderful time we had with them.
Soon we were in the large city of Saint Brieuc. We stayed in the older part of town. Unlike many large cities the sidewalks seemed to roll up at 9:00PM and the nights were quiet. When we first got there we didn’t know where our Hotel was in the city. I asked a man if he knew where it was located? He said to follow him and off we went at a very fast pace. I think that when people see you hiking they want to show you that they can hike. So their pace is always fast. He kept looking back at Paul who was a little red faced and puffing out loud and asking if he was okay. After a 15-mile day it is hard to keep up a fast pace. Saint Brieuc has a wonderful bus system that stretches out on both sides of the city for many miles. Here again we were impressed with the friendliness and helpfulness of our hotel staff. The city also had the best shopping with many pedestrian streets only. From Saint Brieuc on, Bretton is no longer spoken. It is now French only with some local dialects thrown in to keep it interesting.
Five days walk from Saint Brieuc we came to Fort de la Latte. If one is an old time movie buff you will remember the “Vikings”. It starred Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis. At the end of the movie the Vikings had to assault a Fort of the evil ones. It was Fort de la Latte. After the Fort de le Latte the terrain changed once again. This is called the Cote d’Emeraude or Emerald Coast. Its long white sandy beaches and Mediterranean vegetation make for some fine walking. Here are also found the beds of oysters and Mussels. The area around Cancale is known as the Capital of Oysters.
Soon it was time for Paul to leave and for Craig Hendee to join me. We met in Rennes, the Capital of Brittany. It is a 2000-year-old city with much of its architectural heritage on display. It also has an airport that I flew in to instead of taking the train from Paris.
The next day Craig and I took the train up to St. Malo. It is the most visited city in Brittany. A fortified walled city from the 12th Century it is also a ferry terminal to England and the Jersey and Guernsey Islands. It was 80 per cent destroyed during WW2, but has been rebuilt to its original state. We stayed at the Hotel Quic En Groigne inside the city. I had read about their service and friendliness and it surpassed its reputation in our eyes. It was outside St. Malo that we toured the Memorial of Fort de la Cite’ D’Alet, a WW2 German Fortification taken by the Allies in August of 1944.
One night we ate at the small Restaurant, Le chasse Maree. It was here that we first tried Moules Marinerie or Mussels Brittany Style. I always like to try the local foods. Though in France I don’t eat Cheval or horse meat. Once in Belgium we tried what Phebe thought was pork chops, “Porc de Pierre“, which turned out to be breaded and deep fried pig’s feet. On the whole you will have more wonderful meals than “surprises” in France. Moules was one of those “Boy am I glad we tried this”. All along the route I saw people eating these Moules. So we got them for an appetizer. Moules offer wonderful slow eating with fingers and you wash them down with a glass of white wine. Man was meant to eat this way slow and enjoying every bite. From St. Malo on we had Moules for our meals whenever possible.
Three days from St. Malo we reached the end of the GR 34 at Mont-Saint-Michel in Normandy. Mont-Saint-Michel is seen from a distance as an island out in the Atlantic. As one draws nearer it looms ever more impressive. Originally began in the 8th Century it was completed in the 16th Century. One can see the changing Architectural Styles that were employed by the Monks as it was built over the Centuries. We had our rooms in a tower off of the Grand Rue, the one principal street of the town. The next morning as we went for our bus we were totally surrounded by water except for the man made causeway. We had to walk out 300 yards to now catch our bus, which took us go to the train station.
Part of ending our hike here was the ability to then go up to Normandy and walk the GR223 along Utah and Omaha Beaches. Growing up I never heard my parents or their friends ever talk about the war. This would offer us the opportunity to visit places we had read so much about that had changed the course of world history. We weren’t disappointed.
The train took us to the town of Carenton, which was between Utah and Omaha Beaches. We were fortunate to meet the couple that ran Apollo Taxi, which became our transportation to different areas. We stayed at a small Hotel that also had a PMU Bar connected to it. I had noticed these along the route in several places but didn’t know what they stood for. Turns out they were horse-betting parlors for the locals. A man and his mother ran the Hotel and Bar. She was about 4 feet 10 inches tall and neatly dressed. She had jet black hair, which made he age hard to judge. Hendee said he bet she wasn’t a day under 80. When I asked for a “Pression” beer she was the only one able to get the thing to pour right.
On the afternoon of the day of our arrival we took our taxi to Ste. Mere Eglise. Here the 82nd Airborne parachuted behind the enemy lines to take this important town. Pvt. John Steele hung from the Church Steeple and played dead as he watched in horror his fellow troopers being killed. Today the 82nd Museum is located here. The next day we took the taxi to the Utah Beach Memorial. Here the GR223 goes out from the beach on a country lane. All along the lane there are signs naming that section of road after the troopers that were killed as they advanced to Careton. Eventually, the GR223 goes in to Careton on the “Rue de Liberte” or the avenue of liberation.
We then transported down to Grandcamp-Maisy at one end of Omaha Beach. We stayed at the Hotel Le Duguesclin where we enjoyed our Demi Pension. That afternoon we walked up to Point du Hoc. This is where the Rangers scaled the steep cliffs to knock out the German Artillery that threatened the landing beaches. Many French people where visiting the site with us. Every where we went we saw the same thing, French People learning of their liberation by the Allies. The next day we transported to Colleville-Sur-Mer and the American Cemetery. 9,387 servicemen and women are buried here. In the Garden of the Missing the wall contains the names of 1,557 who are still missing in action. An asterisk identifies those that have been subsequently identified. I cannot explain the emotion I felt as I stood in front of the white crosses that bear the phrase “Known but to God”. As we walked the GR223 back to Grandcamp-Maisy we passed the sections of beaches called “Easy Red, Easy Green and Easy White”. All along the beaches we saw the Memorials to those that had given their lives for our Freedom that we enjoy today. One has to ask why they never had the chance to live out their dreams yet I have been blessed to do so. Today the beaches are calm. Trotter horses are trained as they race up and down the beaches when the tide is low in the morning. Every morning we enjoyed this spectacle as we ate breakfast. Yet, to this day pieces of equipment are washed ashore after every storm. When an excavation is needed for a new dwelling near the beaches, large pieces of equipment are often dug up and placed in the Museums that honor our dead. History should be “living” and I will take this humbling experience to my grave. I cannot thank them for what they did, yet I can honor them.
Walking long distance trails offers you a unique chance to enter into other people’s lives. As we walked we always brought about a sense of wonderment from those we passed for what we were doing. That we were interested in them and their country never ceased to amaze them. Little do they know how this experience enriches our lives beyond what I ever dreamed possible.
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