The skies are grey, there’s white caps on the water and it’s drizzling, the sculpted rocks of Rothéneuf are directly below us. The location is magical, between Saint Malo and Cancale, a formidable coastline with winding walking trails, wind-blown landscape… it’s a place of refuge and solace.
The old city of St Malo is protected by 2 km’s of high walls and great parapets, it’s a fantastic walk around the top to get a lay of the land, and sea, taking in the island forts, working port and vista of the fortified area. The fortified village is full of alleyways, tourist shops, restaurants and cafes. It’s hard to fully appreciate it as we’re here in late November and a lot of it’s closed for winter, but I imagine in summer it’s chaotic but beautiful, bustling with life. There’s a couple of restaurants at the gates to the city that are open. We eat at Café de l’Ouest, a reasonable meal but pricey and of average service. The moules and frites were good the scallops and risotto about the same… what you’d expect for where it is located.
Mont Saint Michel is one of France’s postcard images, a place I’ve always wanted to visit but logistically it’s been too hard… until now. We drive from Rothenuef, deciding en route to go via Cancale. it’s spur of the moment decision but wow… Cancale… what a village, what a port, what a spot. We follow an oyster tractor down the winding road to the seaside, it’s a sign of things to come. Positioned over the Bay of Saint Michel, and along the foreshore, are the most delightful array of houses. The village is quaint and postcard perfect. The bay is tidal and home to over 7 km of oyster beds with over 25,000 tonne harvested each year. The thing is, it’s not commercial, it’s productive and busy but still feels like a village. It’s timeless.
The outline of Mont Saint Michel can be seen from the harbour, right alongside the Oyster markets. We bought a mixed dozen with lemon and two forks, a bargain at 10.50 euro. The yellow wine truck sells a great Chablis, and we were set with a seat at the wooden tables overlooking the industrious oyster farmers … the oysters are superb. If you’re ever in the area, this is the place you need to come. On Sunday there’s a market is the village, it’s small and seems mainly utlised by the locals stocking up on great fresh produce. The long white fromage trailer is an absolute gem with the lady providing up with a few outstanding cheeses… apart from one being goat and one being cow I’m not sure what they were… except tasty!
On to Mont Saint Michel… standing tall on the horizon, it’s spectacular. To get there involves a parking station and shuttle bus but it’s really no bother, especially for what awaits. Crossing a relatively new causeway over the mudflats it stops at the base of the island… looking up it’s breathtaking, the size, scope and beauty of the place. It’s a cold, grey, windy day which somehow adds to the mystique of the cobbled alleyways and old wooden buildings. Walking through the entrance to Mont Saint Michel, I’m in awe… the craftsmanship and the history, it’s wonderful. Many, many stairs later we enter the Abbey, it does not disappoint. There is a long rich history beginning with Benedictine monks who began building an abbey in the 10th century, it began a symbol of French national identity in the 100-year war and was turned to a prison during the French Revolution. That’s just a small part of it’s fascinating past and today the Abbey is back in use as a place of worship for the monks and nuns of the Monastic Fraternities of Jerusalem.
The entire island is beautifully maintained, a testament to the ongoing renovation of the Abbey and the entire UNESCO listed site. The thick walls with long stained-glass windows. Massive fire places for both heating and cooking fill the halls, the tile, timber and stonework meticulously crafted – it’s an architectural masterpiece created over many centuries and reflecting re-Romanesque and Romanesque design with Gothic style. This is an area that you could wander aimlessly and still discover something new.
Back in the serene village of Rotheneuf, we venture on a couple of long walks along the ‘customs trail’. Winding for kilometres over hills, through bays, coves and paddocks, it’s stunning and revitalizing. One day we head south and the next north.
The trek along the cliff tops, headlands and beaches to St Malo from Rotheneuf is breathtaking, very windy, rather chilly but exhilarating. The windsurfers are out in force, flying high over the wild waves, the locals dragging dogs on their evening walk, the gentle hum of everyday life embracing it all. There’s mix of houses, old and new, headlands under restoration, beaches beating so violently onto the shore foam is flying everywhere… breathing in the sea air, salt and sand whipping against your face, it’s a sign you’re living.
Going north is more of a trek, the customs trail takes us past the tiny chapel Notre-Dame-des-Flots, surprisingly it’s still in use, complete with a donations box! Walking down into Havre de Rothéneuf at low tide, the yachts and wooden fishing boats are left high and dry, teetering on their hulls and rudders. In the mouth of the bay a group of optimistic blokes are trying to surf, a rideable wave few and far between. The tidal bay is a mixture of sand and heavy clay, it’s a challenge to navigate which proves even more precarious as we scale a steep riverbank to find a clear path… we’re met with thorns, a rope to drag yourself up and slippery clay to boot. There was an easy route via the road but Kerry’s renowned for taking the path less travelled so we climbed, slipped and begrudgingly trudged along. The cliffs are rugged, windswept but still green and fertile. Happy cows and sheep graze with plentiful rich grass, crops neatly fill the fields, it’s idyllic.
The village of Rotheneuf is picturesque and perfect. Quaint cottages standing next to majestic old houses, walled yards and exquisite gardens down scenic one-way streets. The village has a great little creperie where the local galettes and crepes are served with a mug of cider. We’re greeted warmly and it’s a cosy way to spend a cold night. The bottle shop, Cave de Rotheneuf, has an impressive array of French wine, and the supermarket complete with anything you need for cooking at home and taking in the village life. The young girls at the Boulangerie are a delight. There’s also a museum at the house of Jacques Cartier, a local mariner who discovered Canada.
Steps away from our apartment, overlooking the English Channel is the Restaurant Le Benetin. Local chef Arnaud Beruel has made it a culinary destination in the area, along with an amazing deck, great views and incredible service, the food is fantastic showcasing the local Breton produce. The scallop ravioli sweet, creamy and smooth, the half cooked, half smoked salmon tender and truly smoky and an impressive mullet carpaccio. The wine list was comprehensive and offered plenty to sample. The only downside was the pork cutlet, served rare with the fat not rendered it was a lot to deal with – not sure if it was a bad day or that’s how the locals eat it, but not one of the best dishes on offer.
Brittany was an area we stumbled across and it’s the little things that surprised. The quaint charm, the glorious scenery, incredible produce and heavenly disposition, it’s a region I’ve still so much more to discover.
