We'd arrived at Port Haliguen on the 7th August
and, having been scared somewhat by the marina fees, decided that we’d spend
just 2 nights there with a third at anchor just outside. The last part of this plan was
thwarted when the wind changed direction, blew onshore instead of offshore, and
increased to create an uncomfortable looking chop. A third night in the marina
it was then!
There’s not a huge amount at Port Haliguen – the main
tourist resort of Quiberon being a 30 minute walk across the peninsular. As so
often in Brittany though, there is plenty of natural beauty to admire. Our
walk took us around the most southerly point of the Quiberon peninsular to
Quiberon itself, before crossing back to the marina.
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| Looking towards the entrance to the harbour from Port Haliguen |
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| What's he looking at then? Out to sea? |
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| Nah! The totty on the opposite harbour wall! |
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| You can see them both here to prove it |
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| Looking out from Pointe du Conguel, the Quiberon peninsular's most southerly point |
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| More Quiberon peninsular scenery |
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| There were a lot of snails about! |
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| House overlooking Plage Port Jean. Nobody's going to spoil their sea view! |
Once back at the marina I thought I'd do a bit of washing. Every time I'd looked into the laverie it was empty, so I didn't anticipate much competition.
Naturally by the time I'd got there with all our stuff, one of the two washing machines was in use. Not really a problem, except that there was only one drier and so I was likely to be beaten to it. The drier looked a bit like a domestic one too, which didn't bode well for a quick drying time.
Time for rant number 1...
As expected, the other washing machine user beat me to the sole drier by about 5 minutes. I therefore had to wait 25 minutes for it to finish its 30 minute duration and, as the owner of the washing hadn't turned up by then to empty it or switch it on again, I took their washing out and replaced it with ours (this was after I'd rinsed the soap powder off some of our clothes where it hadn't even dissolved!).
If removing someone else's washing seems a bit cheeky, you should bear in mind that I've seen washing left in a machine for over an hour after it had finished and I wasn't going to risk waiting that long! I was a bit concerned when the washing I took out was still damp, but had little alternative other than to shove ours in anyway.
After 30 minutes it hardly seemed any drier than when it went in and there was a queue to use the machine. I apologised before putting it on for another 30 minutes, after which our washing was still nowhere near dry. I couldn't hog the machine any longer though and that's what led to the pictures below.
Poor old Cyclone. The indignity of it!
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| Cyclone as a clothes horse |
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| The washing still wasn't dry when it got dark, so it had to come inside |
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| Jo modelling what happens when you run out of clean clothes. Apparently a mix of horizontal and vertical stripes is not a good look! |
If you're going to provide washing machines and driers, make sure the darn things work! That was 8 euros for a lot of drying hassle and a dubious wash in the first place. Rant number 1 complete.
Our next destination was to be the River Blavet, which leads
off the Rade de Lorient. This had been suggested by a fellow CA member in
response to a query I’d posed on a forum. He advised me that there were places to anchor in the river and realistically priced pontoons at Hennebont which is, for us, its navigable limit.
We had a good, although slightly frustrating sail (the wind
was against us, naturally, so we had to tack most of the way) with the 45
miles taking us about 8 hours. We chose to anchor near a sharp bend in the
river which was remarkable for the number of wrecks shown on the chart.
The wrecks weren’t there because this is a particularly dangerous stretch of water. Unwanted boats had simply
been left there to rot - something made clear by the succinct description of “Dumping Ground” that also appeared on the chart!
Regardless of how this might sound, it actually made for a
really attractive backdrop. It also helped us idle away the hours wondering
about the “lives” of those boats before they’d been abandoned and partially
consumed by the elements.
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| Phare de la Teignouse, SE of the Quiberon peninsular. |
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| Lots of navigational aids and rocks off the entrance to the Rade de Lorient |
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| Settled in for our first night at anchor. Not a bad view, eh? |
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| The skeletons of the boats that had been left to rot |
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| What had they seen and done in their time? |
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| I looked at this long and hard for hours. One boat or two? I'm still not sure... |
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| Had you spotted the cormorants on her (their) masts? |
We took Cyclone upriver to Hennebont and tied up to a
pontoon before exploring the town. Hennebont's most notable feature is its remaining ramparts and the extravagant planting in the vicinity
– you’d have appreciated that mum! There wasn’t enough to keep us there
overnight though, so we returned to our anchorage for a third night.
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| Railway bridge, just south of Hennebont |
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| "Artistic shot" through an arch of the above! |
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| This was why we couldn't navigate beyond Hennebont! |
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| Hennebont ramparts, complete with extravagant planting... |
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| ... and again |
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| Town gate which formerly housed a prison. Now a museum |
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| Cyclone's berth at Hennebont |
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| Former chateau? Now a hotel in view from our anchorage |
Time now for rant number 2.
Anchorages are supposed to be places away from the cut and thrust, where one can enjoy beautiful scenery in relative solitude and peaceful surroundings – well that’s our view in any case. Whilst I think most boat users would agree with that and make every effort to show respect for others, clearly not everyone is of the same mind.
Having settled for the evening we were joined by a small motorboat/speedboat type craft which tied up to a nearby mid-river pontoon. The low-life on board then proceeded to crank up the volume of their impressive stereo and subject us to “music” of a type which no doubt reflected their intellect.
Not content with this, they then climbed onto a small yacht which was tied to the same pontoon and proceeded to rock it violently from side to side – why I have no idea.
Anchored some 50m away with our dinghy stowed below, there was nothing we could do about this and I couldn’t even make out the name of their boat. We therefore had no option but to grit our teeth and hope firstly (as we suspect) that no damage was done and secondly that something suitably nasty would happen to them on their return downriver.
Thankfully they left soon after 2100, but not without making as much wash as possible - disturbing boats on nearby moorings in the process.
I just don’t understand that sort of mentality.
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| One final picture from our anchorage. A theatre of some sort? |
We left the River Blavet on 13th August and
sailed the 42 miles to Benodet (I should really say motored, as there was no wind for much of the time; we did manage to sail the last couple of hours
though).
Any frustration we felt was blown away though when we were visited by a group of dolphins (or maybe porpoises) that swam with us for several minutes, playing in our bow wave. This was a magical experience for us. They are just such fantastic creatures. The grins stayed with us long after they'd left (see, I'm not always grumpy!).
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| Dolphin or porpoise? Our money's on the latter |
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| We were treated to a display for several minutes... |
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| Absolutely fantastic! |
We anchored just off Benodet's beach on the night of our arrival, giving us lovely uninterrupted views out to sea. Unfortunately it also gave us a bit of a restless night as the wind piped up and we started to slowly drag our anchor. As the wind was offshore, that’s not as dramatic as it sounds - we probably moved no more than 15m - but it meant that I had to get up a couple of times to check our position and reset the maximum permitted radius on our anchor alarm; the siren goes off if we move further than the specified distance from where the anchor was set.
That anchor alarm is a godsend for peace of mind when sleeping in your berth, but it does give you a bit of a shock when it lets rip!
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| Benodet beach from our anchorage |
The following morning we motored past Benodet marina - our planned destination for a couple of nights - up the River Odet towards Quimper. We had heard that this was a very scenic river and it didn't disappoint, with the occasional chateau appearing on the banks through clearings in the trees.
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| The River Odet... |
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| ... and again... |
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| ... and again |
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| The entrance to the River Odet |
After a night at Benodet's marina - and the use of their absolutely fantastic laverie (take note Port Haliguen!) - we decided to get a bus to Quimper.
Naturally I checked the timetable carefully (but for one small detail which shall become apparent) and we arrived at the bus stop in good time for the 0852 departure.
By 0915 I was starting to smell a rat - we haven't found French public transport to be particularly punctual, but we were only 5 minutes from the start of the route; over 20 minutes late already was therefore a bit much - and asked a passer by if there was a problem that she was aware of.
She pointed out that it was a jour ferrie - a bank holiday!
A limited service was scheduled nevertheless so we went for a walk to pass the time before boarding the more or less empty 1020 bus.
Quimper has an attractive old town, some ramparts and an imposing cathedral. It was great for a stroll around in the 2 and a bit hours that we had before our return bus to Benodet (yes, I'd checked!).
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| River Odet at Quimper. That's why we didn't visit by boat! |
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| Cathedral St Corentin |
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| Jardin de la Retraite |
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| Ramparts |
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| Quimper street... |
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| ... and another... |
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| ... and another... |
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| ... and a wet one... |
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| ... the penultimate Quimper street scene... |
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| ... and the last one |
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| Le Petit Train that takes tourists through Quimper's streets |
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| One more rampart and garden shot |
We didn't want to miss our bus as it was 3 hours until the next, and last, one. We therefore made sure we were there about 15 minutes before it was due to depart.
I can feel rant number 3 coming on...
Now, Quimper is a large town with a lot of people. It was a bank holiday and Benodet is the nearest, and very popular, beach resort. Who could possibly have anticipated that there would be high demand for buses to transfer people from one place to the other? Not whoever was in charge of scheduling public transport in any case!
When our bus finally turned up - naturally it was late - the driver got off to address the eagerly awaiting throng. We thought this a bit unusual, but his purpose was to inform us that he was very sorry but he was full. This was the second stop of the route. He then drove off leaving about 30 rather disgruntled prospective passengers - including us - wondering what to do. Ah! thought I. We'll go to the nearby Tourist Information centre and ask them about alternative transport.
It was nearly 1400 on a busy bank holiday. Where were the Tourist Information staff? At lunch obviously, from 1230 until 1500!
With 3 hours to wait until the next bus (the last one, remember - what if that was full too?) I tried sticking my thumb out for a few minutes. I gave up quickly though, realising that this was doomed to failure. We had nothing to write our desired destination on and I couldn't make any suitably heart wrenching appeals for a lift!
Then I remembered something I thought I'd heard the driver say - something that made me think he would return for us, although this seemed a bit unlikely and I couldn't be sure I'd understood correctly. Having considered the options, we decided to walk to the initial departure point of the service and make sure we were at the head of the queue for the next bus - be that in 1 hour or 3. A taxi would have been 50 euros plus, so that wasn't a realistic option.
The initial departure point was Quimper's SNCF station and fortunately the person at the information desk was able to confirm that my suspicions were correct. The driver did indeed intend to offload his passengers and return pronto to do another run.
True to his word, he was back about 30 minutes after we arrived at the SNCF bus stop, so all in all we were only a little over an hour later leaving for Benedot than planned. The driver was, however, on a mission and - intentionally or otherwise - had disabled the stop button that would alert him to the fact that passengers wanted to get off! As a consequence, we were whisked about a mile past our stop to the beach, where we got off with everybody else! At least it was only a mile to walk back to the boat - a very pleasant one along the beach and up the side of the river as it happened.
Which brings me directly on to rant number 4...
When we got back to Cyclone we exchanged a friendly "Bonjour", as you do in these parts, with our new neighbour. He returned the courtesy and then informed us that we were in his berth and would have to move. The capitainery had advised him of another vacant berth on the same pontoon that we could go to, but I wanted to make sure before moving that we'd be OK there for a couple of nights (we'd actually been told we'd be OK where we were for several more nights, but clearly the resident berth holder had returned earlier than planned).
On my return I came across our new neighbour wheeling a trolley along the pontoon towards me. I told him we were ready to move and would actually just swap berths with him - in English as his English seemed pretty good and better than my French. He replied to the effect that he was going home now and would be back to move his boat between 1700 and 1800.
Naturally we'd rather have got it over with there and than and, frankly, I didn't see why he wouldn't be of the same mind. I couldn't really argue though as he'd already passed me, so I got Cyclone ready to move and awaited his return.
Meanwhile Peter, a fellow CA member, had come over and introduced himself to us. He invited us to join him and his wife at 1830 for a beer at a nearby bar, which we thought would be nice. I explained that we were waiting for our neighbour to return and move his boat, but said that we'd join them as soon as we could.
We waited, and waited. 1700 and then 1800 came and went. At 1845 I put a note on our neighbour's boat to say how long we'd waited and that we would return between 1930 and 2000 to move the boats. I let the capitainery know the situation - I'd hoped they'd be able to contact him, but the numbers they had for him proved to be incorrect - and we joined our new friends in the bar.
I always stick to my word if I possibly can and so we cut short our enjoyable conversation in time to return to Cyclone for 2000 as promised. Our new neighbours were nowhere to be seen and, in fact didn't turn up until the following morning. Why say you'll do something and then not bother? Grrrr!!
It being a Bank Holiday, the town had laid on a free band by the beach. We took a stroll down to see/hear them after our dinner (Jo, being a little low in the altitude stakes, was only able to do the latter!). They weren't to our taste, but plenty of people seemed to enjoy them. Bagpipes featured a lot.
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| Live entertainment in Benodet. This is more than Jo saw on the night! |
As mentioned above, our neighbour turned up to move his boat this morning. It turned out that he hadn't realised we were waiting to swap our boat's position with his so, after me calling him lots of nasty names during the evening yesterday (not to his face, obviously), it all came down to an innocent misunderstanding. It turned out his English wasn't so good after all!
We're off to Audierne tomorrow.
Thanks for reading.
