Following advice from our host at the beach house, we planned for a day trip to Belle-Île, but just missed the ferry. The next departing ferry was bound for Île-aux-Moines, so we went there instead.
This trip made me want to learn how to sail. Little sail boats though. No motor. No fancy yacht.
This tiny island town of 700 feels a kinship with my city by the bay
I didn’t get a picture, but nearly everyone had a cart that they would hitch to the back of a moped. There weren’t cars besides a few large vans for transporting campers and their equipment.
My future boat, perhaps
It was easy to imagine spending more time here. Beautiful, quiet, faraway.
At the bakery, (yes, an island of 700 has its own bakery) we saw a Filipino woman touch a loaf of bread. Two bakery workers gesticulated wildly and shouted at her (in French) to stop. The woman yelled back in frustration “I DON’T SPEAK FRENCH!” I don’t either, but I think they were giving the international signal of “DO NOT TOUCH.” N was absolutely gleeful at this. He told me “I felt in my heart that it was not right that she was touching the bread.” We stopped for lunch just here, next to the church
I even sat on the wall to eat
Wine colored hydrangeas. Fancy
No one knows what the meaning or purpose behind the stone statues. This one, the monk, is presumably who the island was named after
We followed a path along the coast
There were hydrangeas everywhere. I know it’s an old lady flower, but it’s my favorite. They may look fancy, but they require little care. You just have to set them in the right place — cloudy, cool, dry, and most importantly, no direct sunlight.
We eventually went back. That flag in the window is the flag of Brittany
To be continued…
nb: this is part of a series on my trip to France