Woods and Water

Woods and Water
Port-la-Foret
Saturday, September 12, 2009

Well, here we are again… we made our difficult decision not to go last Tuesday. Well, we did leave Le Guilvinec but not, unfortunately to go North. Too little sleep, too little visibility, too little confidence in the autopilot (now defunct) and too much wind predicted for the channel. And now, as some of you already know, too few crew. Al’s had to go back to work on the music for upcoming BBC Children in Need ’80 Days’ - a sort of minor celeb relay race around the world.

We (Snork Maiden and me) are in Port-la-Foret, around the corner from Concarneau. It’s an 1000+ boat marina, base for the Figaro race and several Open 60 teams. There’s a few restaurants, a bar, and some of the time, Internet. There’s a pleasant path through the forest to the village of Foret Foutsnant, (boulangerie, huit a huit, tourist office, Sunday market etc.) - also a beach on the other side of the marina. The weather has been hot, sunny and windy. Beach is good for swimming at high water - noon tomorrow, so I’ll struggle into wetsuit and get myself out there. (It’s not warm - chilly with a warm layer at the surface at the end of the day - we swam as soon as we got in on Tuesday.)

Wednesday was spent moaning, groaning and taking the autopilot into the workshop here - also asking for ideas for crew. Thursday I drove Al to St Malo to catch the ferry, and spent a couple of hours admiring the gothic architecture of Dinard - the houses are a bit like some of the houses in the UK resorts, but many times more so, with pinnacles, turrets, elaborate woodwork, sharp pitched roofs, the whole thing teetering over the magnificent, crashing seascape. Worth a visit! (Photos on Picasa when I get home.)

Friday I had the car for a second day (2 days cheaper than one in the crazy logic of car rental companies.) I took a trip to the local chateau de Keriolet. Incredible story of a Russian aristocrat who married a Frenchman 30 years her junior and together they spent 25 years building a folly in an alarming mix of styles on the site of a 15C Breton house. He died not long after it was finished, and she moved back to Paris, where she died 4 years later. She left the pile to Brittany, to be used as a museum - just the way she left it. Then a descendant turned up - alleged to be related to be Rasputin’s murderer. He successfully contested ownership of the property and then sold it off, bit by bit, furniture, paintings, tapestries and finally the land itself. It was bought by a would-be hotelier, who soon realised that his idea wouldn’t work, fell into disrepair and was eventually bought in the 1980’s, I think, by an anonymous benefactor who is slowly restoring it, and opens it to the paying public. A good afternoon out! A quick visit to Le Clerc for a browse around the books and CDs, and back to PLF on the bus.

More about PLF tomorrow.
And if any of you know any willing sailors, don’t hold back. I’ll be press-ganging soon.

Night, now.