Dinan, France

The weather was meant to be nice today yet we awoke to an overcast and breezy morning. I dressed for in between temperature which means summer sleeves and tights as the forecast said 23 degrees and the pattern here seems to be cloudy in morning and then the sun breaks through to very warm in the afternoon. When we commenced our boat trip it was actually very cold and I had not packed a cardi, not wanting surplus weight. I suffered on top deck as long as I could having to hide behind Vern as a wind break, but after about 40 minutes I retreated to an inside portion on the lower deck. It was a real shame that the sun was not out as it is a stunning harbour with lots of islands and pretty views to St Malo and Dinard which is the town on the other side of the harbour.

The journey took a total of 2 3/4hrs one way, and we wondered if there may be some locks to get through or if it was just winding and slow as the bus journey back is only 40 minutes. There was French commentary provided, which was no good to us unfortunately and for a tour trip selling through international offices you would think they would provide an English recorded one as well, apparently not. After we had gone around some islands in the harbour and across to Dinard to pick up some passengers we got treated to a close up view of the power station that spans the Rance River. This hydro station is essentially a dam separating the river mouth from the harbour and is powered by the huge tidal surge that occurs here. The tide is the highest in Europe reaching a minimum of 26ft per tide. As we got near to the edge Vern got really excited to see there was a big lock we had to pass through. This particular one filled quite quickly and it was fun to be on the ‘inside’ instead of watching from the sides for a change. We have only been through one other lock and that was in Berlin last time we adventured.

After the lock we entered a wide lake type level which was still clear green sea water and surrounded by lush green wooded countryside with tidy houses and a good sprinkling of water craft, mainly yachts in the bays and out and about. A bit further on there was a group of 5 small 8 ft rounded sailing boats learning how to sail. There was one adult in a coaching boat and the whipper snappers that only looked 7-10yrs old were on their own with little life jackets and managing quite capably. I am too anxious a mum for that, but how great to learn such skills early.

The lake narrowed gradually before becoming a river, and the clear tidal water was still evident for almost 2hrs of the 2 3/4 hr journey. We saw a lot of bird life, lovely farm land, natural river bank vegetation and very picturesque villages. We also passed under a couple of spectacular bridges and then another lock in a delightful river port town. Just before the lock was a muddy reedy estuary area where there were funky little stilted huts with crab catching apparatus along with poles and nets perhaps for other fish catching.

Arriving in Dinan was a delight, its port being pretty and lined with restaurants and happy customers enjoying the now brilliant sun shine. We had 5 1/2 hrs before our bus departed so we chose to do the French thing and have a leisurely lunch by the water. As is good practice we walked up and down a bit scanning menus and the plates set own before existing customers to assess the quality of the offerings before settling on probably the second most expensive restaurant which happened to be one of the most populated too. Along with crepes and cider, seafood is very regional to Brittany, in particular oysters and mussels. The majority of diners were sitting in front of their huge cooking pots full of tiny mussels busily picking the sweet morsels out of their shells. I saw one lady doing a clever and more ladylike execution of the task by using one mussel shell (two halves still hinged together) as a pair of tongs to pick out the one to be eaten.

We chose the set menu -me three courses and Vern just had two (€16.90 and €25) I chose a house pate and Vern had a terrine. His had a bit of the Andoillean sausage that is popular over here, and I tried in Paris. I say tried as I could not eat it as it tasted like a stuck cow that had died of bloat. They have ‘chittering’ in them which I looked up and its offal. I am not sure which part they put in it but not offal I am familiar with – like liver, heart, lung or kidney. Maybe tripe? Maybe male genitals or worse …. Anyway on to mains, I had a sea bass and scallop dish with creamed leeks and Vern had a tagliatelle carbonara style. As you can see from the photo’s it was very nicely presented and authentic the way they had a yolk for him to mix with the hot cream and lardons (smoked bacon) already on his plate. There was also a pottle of cheese to mix through. It was delicious all round. I had wanted house made profiteroles for dessert but they had sold out so we settled for a plate of 3 ice-creams.

After his lovely lunch we made our way up a decent hill through gorgeous medieval houses, many with artists selling their wares. Most of the houses were 1700-1800’s, and maintained beautifully with delightful flowers everywhere. Outside one was a stunning huge bright cerise hydrangea like I had once seen in Italy – never seen that colour at home. One thing to note about France is the people and their general demeanour. They are far more unhurried, and more polite than the English and many of the other nationalities we have encountered. They happily make way for you on the street, say ‘pardon’ (excuse me), stop for you to take a photo of something (wont walk across you) give seats to elderly, quick to great with a Bonjour, and also when you finish a business transaction – may even shake your hand. They form orderly queues and pity help anyone who jumps it – they will get told by someone in charge or who assumes leadership. There is more, but there is a very different vibe here, and we have been treated so well 98% of the time. We found this last time and that is one of the reasons we enjoyed France so much and wanted to come back – I might add that we haven’t finished with it yet!

Anyway back to the discovery of Dinan, we did not realise it was so pretty, I think far nicer than Vitre and had we known I would have given it (Vitre) a miss. At the top of the hill is remnants of a city wall and inside this quite a big older style city/town, with some very old timbered buildings still holding up and putting on a show. It was pretty busy in the town and we wandered around taking in the scenery. The sun was pretty hot too probably about 28 degrees, so we just took our time. At one point we had a nice chat with a senior (not that we are that young) Irish gentleman who was very funny and charming. That is one of the other nationalities that we find usually are friendly and happy to pass the time of day and quick to banter – like the Liverpool people.

There are a number of ‘Britange’ regional foods and one by description I had not been tempted to try is a butter and sugar pastry called a ‘Kouign-Amann’. We saw a group of ladies walking along eating a pastry with great delight and we could smell a delicious smell coming down the street so like a blood hound on a scent we found the shop of origin which was freshly baking the little cakes. OMG, they are evil, evil pastries. They have surpassed custard square and vanilla slices in Verns esteem which means it is his new favourite and I have been instructed to source a recipe and give it a try back home. So now you are perhaps interested, it is a pastry that is layered with butter and sugar, and rolled like a snake shape. It is slow baked to puff up, and at the same time the butter and sugar caramelise making it crunchy and almost toffee in some parts and flakey and sticky in others. For those in the know its like a cross between a ‘bienenstich, croissant, and upside down cake’. Totally bad for you I expect, but meh.

We contemplated a tower climb for views, as apparently you can see as far as Mont. St. Michel on a fine day but I didn’t have the energy and we really didn’t have the time. We were also in need of a comfort stop and the toilets we found – several of them were smelly with no paper. Of all the days to have no wipes – I had forgotten to replace my pack in my day pack.

We finally also found a cafe to have a cuppa and a comfort stop and then wandered down the hill to wait for our bus. On the way we found that they were having their bastille day celebrations a night early and the town had taken on a festive feel with musicians wandering around and food and drinking establishments getting ready for the crowds. There were a few other people waiting for the bus and we confirmed with them that it was the right place to wait as details were a little unclear at St. Malo – but it seems we all had it correct to wait where we had been dropped off by the Port. Time passed and 5 minutes after 7:30pm, no bus. A french Grandma and her teen daughter who were also waiting tried ringing but there was no reply. An American couple, like the French had booked on line and provided mobile numbers but they were not advised of any change. After a further 10 minutes waiting another French couple came and enquired if we were waiting, and then advised us that they had been told that there would be no bus due to the celebrations and the town being shut to traffic. They had ordered a cab and offered to ring for us and the Americans – the Gran had got a cab and was off to her destination already. We accepted their help and asked the Americans if they were going to St. Malo and if they would like to share.

As you can imagine we were furious at the Ferry company for not advising and leaving us in the lurch. The port was only 1km from the traffic block off, and in visible sight and easy walking distance – the same place we went to get our cab, so they could have parked there. I think their driver was from Dinan and wanted to party early. We will have to check our rights and see what we can do about it in the following days.

The American couple, John and Kristin were on honeymoon, originally from Wisconsin but based in Myanmar researching Malaria cures. They were lovely and we had a nice chat for the comfortable quick 35 minute cab drive back to St. Malo and shared the €105 fare.

Dinner was our usual picnic along with sampling another of the local ciders. They are nice and relatively cheap ranging from €1.98-3.50 for a big bottle and are quite distinct from English Ciders. I think I prefer the English which are more concentrated in flavour, and more refined or complex. The English ones range from 4.5-8% alcohol whilst the French range from 2%-5%. In Normandy and Brittany when you sit down for lunch they have nice pottery mugs of a certain shape ready for you to order your particular size pottery jug of cidre (cider) to go with the meal. Given the alcohol content is low, its quite ok to wash your crepe or salad down with a litre or two…. apparently. The French cider is almost like a dry or slightly soured apple juice – not unpleasant, just a lot thinner than English! You can get a slightly cloudy ‘traditionelle’ or a clearer sparkling ‘brut’.