Redruth to Brittany: Part 2 Belle Ile

The Ferry Leaving Belle Ile

September 2024

Fueled by a delicious breakfast at La Passarelle in Morlaix of yoghurt and fruit, crepes, three types of bread and homemade jams, we dragged the faithful noisy cases to the 'la passarelle' and on to the platform for the train to Rennes. This is the train to Paris so there were several people who looked as if they were returning after a weekend away. Two young men, smartly dressed, trying to hide the hangovers, were sucking on cigarettes as if they were their last ... Rennes took under two hours, so barely time to open a book. The station is new and very impressive. We had an hour to wait which was easily filled with sitting in the sun outside, scouting out the best sandwich and being organised by the public toilet manager who took her job very seriously. The only slight anxiety for me is that the system runs on QR codes which have to be found at key times - I do fumble a bit. The train was slightly delayed, we drifted into a sun induced daze on the platform, so when the exceedingly long train arrived we had quite a sprint to reach our seats. Next stop Auray to pick up the bus to Quiberon. I didn't know where the bus left from and wondered if we would have a bit of trek. But no, there it was waiting for us when we arrived; a mix of tourists and older people who looked as if they had travelled from rural areas to medical appointments in the big town. A young woman got on the bus wearing a long gabardine mac and manhandling an enormous suitcase; made ours look like handbags. She was also on the ferry to Belle Ile. I imagined she might be a new primary school teacher or that she had romantic associations with someone on the island. We met her a couple of days later on a bus on the island. Completely wrong ... she was from Berlin and on holiday but not wearing the usual walking boots and waterproof jacket. Her eyes lit up when I said we were from Cornwall as it had been a toss up between Belle Ile and Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly for her holiday! Belle Ile had won out partly because the French trains are so good. Apparently, they aren't so good in Germany.

The bus dropped us at Quiberon Gare Maritime with a couple of hours before the ferry left , giving us some time to explore the resort and walk along the fine white sands in the sunshine, suitcases firmly, and silently, secured in a lock up.

The ferry takes about fifty minutes and runs several times a day. It does take cars but there are taxes to pay if you do and there is a really good park and ride in Quiberon. As the white, stretched out apartment skyline of Quiberon diminished, the fortifications of Le Palais hove into view. At which point the ferry then sounded its horn really loudly as a cue for all other vessels to scram, allowing it to turn into the narrowest of harbour entrances between to two lighthouses. Such skill. The island, in the summer at least, seems to run on the rhythm of the ferries. What seamless travel connections from Morlaix!

We found our delightful flat, some tasty food from Super U and drank a welcome pint of biere blonde in a lively bar in the Avenue Carnot (in other places it would be a mere Rue).

What do you do when you wake up to sunshine on a beautiful island? You gotta walk! Had we been there longer, we would have hired bikes. First a meander round the pretty if quite grand, on a small scale, town of Le Palais. Apparently, Belle Ile is Brittany but not. They don't speak Breton or wear national costume but have developed their own. There was 'La Fete du Pain Pas Cher', the evening we departed, commemorating the creation of the island cooperative bakery, funded by the famous French nineteenth century actress, Sarah Bernhardt, in times of hardship. An opportunity for feasting and dancing ...

Nicholas Fouquet, Superintendent of Finances under King Louis XIV, bought the Island in 1658. He had amassed enormous wealth but was later disgraced for misuse of state funds. He may have had an inkling that he might need extra protection in case his fortunes were reversed in Versailles, so he had the fortifications reinforced in the town. These were constructed by the architect Vauban who was considered the greatest engineer of his time, specialising in citadels and towers which may explain why they have survived so long. By all accounts Fouquet let his ambitions run away with him ... He was captured and imprisoned by none other than the famous d'Artagnan, lieutenant of the kings musketeers, who I thought had been invented by Alexander Dumas. He remained in jail until he died in 1680.

Another strategic strength of the island is access to fresh water. Vauban also had the aiguade Vauban, or Belle Fontaine, built to supply ships as they could easily tie up there on a high tide. For this reason the British captured Belle Ile in 1761 to they could supply the fleet rather than having to return to Britain. It was returned to France in 1763 in exchange for Minorca. The Fontaine has recently been restored and is an astonishing site, one of only two in France.

There is a popular coastal path all around the island. I have never exchanged so many greetings in a day! Everyone so friendly and on such sunny days, happy to be out and about. Day one we headed south for a couple of hours and on day two we took the bus to Pointe des Poulains in the north and walked back to Sauzon. The former is wild and exposed with a lighthouse and another fortification which became Sarah Berhardt's holiday home; a retreat from her celebrity status where she revelled in its remoteness and discomfort. She wanted to be buried there too but the authorities insisted she receive full state honours and be laid to rest in the Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris.

It's hard to describe the delight round every headland and bend on the coastal path. Stunning coves with clear emerald green waters. Pine woodlands, steep cliffs and white sands. Lots of butterflies thanks to a conservation programme. It did make us think of the Helford in many ways but with its own distinctiveness. We felt so happy and at home! Arriving in Sauzon just before 2pm, we had missed most of the lunchtime servings - takes me so long to get into the French rhythm - but luckily a café still had Croque Monsieur and a tasty terrine for us to share. We took the bus back to Le Palais and then went for a swim at La Plage de Ramonette - cold but stunning and Tony happily gathered a small stash of sea glass.

Le Palais brims with lively cafes, interesting shops, shout out for the very individual Liber and Company bookshop in the Rue des Ramparts, as well as lots of crafts, arts and coloured tins of sardines. One evening we were looking for a bar for aperitif and came upon what looked like an impromptu performance by the inner harbour by the singer Julia Pertuy, also playing cello and keyboard. She played on the Island in August and obviously liked it, and they liked her! Fabulous. We even got to sing along.

We could have, maybe should have, stayed longer on Belle Ile but Sunday morning we were off again. However, I did note that the famous and ancient Le Fournil bakery had a notice saying that the owners were retiring, after seven generations, and looking for someone to take over. Preferably someone from Belle Ile or someone who would commit. For a brief moment I was drawn but then remembered the working hours and the fact that I have never baked bread, not even in lockdown.

So farewell 'Paris on Sea' or 'Cornwall in France' - a la prochaine, I hope. Next stop Nantes via the ferry, the bus and train from Auray. It felt odd not to venture beyond the station in Auray but we had a pleasant sandwich; don't buy one in the train station, there is a boulangerie just 2 minutes away which makes delicious fresh ones. We read our books in the sunshine waiting for our connection: Tony the vast tome of 'Game of Thrones' book 2 by George Martin and me Jean Baptiste Andrea's 'Des Diables et des Saints'.

Next Blog: Nantes and so much to share!