Legends of the shores

Brittany runs in our family given part of hubby's origins. This explains why, when we lived in France, we went there often to visit relatives. They have since then disappeared, their houses sold or passed on to younger generations in the family, but whatever we say and however we put it, Brittany is still part of our identity and pretty much on our destiny's route.

With the beautiful days and the light spring breezes reaching the capital came the urge to move west and explore new shores in those regions where we had been so often in the past. It is not easy to break the usual patterns and explore the village next door or the bay some fifty kilometers down the coast; family members and obligations as well as sentimental ties will try to pull you back into the safety zone of the well-known places...

But if you are strong enough and will tolerate a few tears and the feeling of guilt creeping in, you are in for wonderful and uplifiting discoveries and surprises along the colorful shores of the Golfe du Morbihan. The trick is to take the smallest roads possible and follow the slow rhythm of the local legends: dragons, princesses and witches will happily gather around the steamy cauldron to unveil the beauties of the emerald sea and the tree tops of strong pines that bend their head under the effect of the strong Atlantic winds. Count the sails of white boats competing in one of the regattas and plan to eagerly eat plump "galettes" in the little harbor of Port Navalo. In the small village of Sainte Barbe, the old stones and houses whisper more legends still if you only take the time to stop and listen while gazing out in the distances where the Atlantic hits the windy shore.