Easy enough to slip off and get on to our road North with Mme Melling navigating. A new way avoiding the race track that the N137 presents each and every morning between Rochefort and La Rochelle. But no sooner having set wheel upon the D5 northbound then we are also… fogbound.
White dense and infiltrated by the usual morning jobs-worths leaving it to the last moment to get to distant workplaces. But there is no passing us (or passing for us)! Not this morning. We pass through potential breakfast venues without even seeing them… Luckily the D5 is as straight as an arrow, mostly, so we can still motor. I trust we do not delay too many thrusting executives in their contract BMWs, Mercedes and similar, not our fault your marshy flats take to misting up… Not nice though…… after an hour or something of that order we suddenly emerge, >pop< around Marans I think, into bright blue cloudless light. Let's head for Luçon I propose -- we know we can be sure of refreshment there… so that is what we do.
Ah Luçon. Oasis! The best coffee on the road, on so many transits in the past! And today we are just that bit later clocking in so, the boulangerie opposite Le Commerce (our café of choice) is open (it does not crack a shutter before 0900) so we achieve the perfect pairing, sitting outside to relish the coffee et croissants (or whatever Mme Melling had instead) that I have previously banged on about in a former post – once more! Was it foggy? All behind us now! We are set for our dash to our lunchtime fish resto! Vroom!
With impecable timing, for which the Melling Smiths are widely renowned, and on the dot of twelve, we park up by the Le Mord’eau in Port-du-Bec for our lunchtime repast. Only snag is, no 'R' in the month. Well there is, just, (ApRil) but only just, and notwithstanding the rule, moules are off, dear, it is no longer the season. We go for the menu du jour which includes baked mackerel with chips backed up by a glass of Muscadet (just a paris goblet half, we are on the road after all). Trés Bon. I ate crab claws there last time, you may recall. But then, you'll be familiar with this fish restaurant anyway, either because you've been there yourself or you are an avid follower of this blog (probably both, a very select group of chums, beyond number).
A quick check on the Port du Bec feu (freshly painted we note) before heading off to cross the Loire at St Nazaire.
It's no good. You can't dress it up. It is a slog from the bridge up to the north coast of Brittany. Especially if you've got limited time to make with the miles. We grit our teeth, try to spot new things of interest from the tedious N12 but the top and bottom of it is, once you've crossed the Loire, it's all a bit down hill. And getting round Rennes was more tedious than usual too. Hmm.
Until you reach the northern coasts that is: then it picks up again. Or you go off piste in Normandy, there's lots to see and do.Anyway, this time we are forced to make our sea crossing during day light hours (no overnight sailings this spring from Roscoff, that we can use anyway, dash it) so we need to be within striking distance of Roscoff on the day, so stop off at Guingamp to spend our last night on Fr terroir at the end of this springtime jolly.
Guingamp? Well the hotel is OK/good even, albeit with next to useless internet connection and no soap in the wash-basin dispenser either, it's a scandal… but moderately priced and on the edge of a town which has another rather good crèperie. We get into G and Mary snatches the last table once again, this time in la duchess anne … we take our seats in the phare-themed establishment. Small, friendly and perhaps even slightly better than our Rochefort supper. More cidre bouché, naturally, this bottle as toothsome as the last.
Après, we take the chance to take a brief stroll into Guingamp's town square, a fine space – but not doing much to dispel my impression that Guingamp doesn't offer its inhabitants or visitors much in the way of eating places – beyond fast food snackeries that is. The cats won't come down either, they just pass judgement from an upstairs window. But having driven 305 miles today we are quite ready to slink back to the digs, take an early bath and hit the sack. The beds are good.
