Another Day, Another Dolmen

I went swimming with a friend today, and on the way to the beach we diverted so I could show him the dolmen and covered ally that I explored last weekend.

He was impressed.

And then we drove to Tourony to swim as the tide was reaching its maximum.

I was curious to know if with a slightly lower high tide the currents halfway to the château would be as strong as they were last Sunday. We swam out. I suggested going to the two buoys just past the little cove formed by the rocks, but he didn't think he was a strong enough swimmer, so I swam a little further alone and then, as the current began to pull at me, decided, nope, it's not worth the risk, and I turned round too.

Back on the beach I started chatting to a French guy. Had I been swimming? he wanted to know, and did I know that there are strong currents in the middle of the channel that can drag a person away? Yes, I told him, I disovered them last weekend, but I've swum to the castle several times and only once was it a struggle to get through the channel. It depends on the sea, he told me, which made perfect sense because the sea has definite moods: some days calm and smooth like a purring pussy, some days lively and scratchy like a kitten, some days rising and falling like a sleeping tiger and last Sunday it was like a leopard trying to drag its prey away.  

Today it was well behaved, but I think I need to work on my upper body strength before I try to tackle the swim to the château again.

After our swim we took a walk at l'Île Renote.

I'd read that there's a dolmen somewhere and seen it on Google maps, but I'd never managed to find it, Until today.   

 

 

The dolmen is situated in the garden of a private house, but there's a little track from the main path that leasds to it so we assumed the public have the right to visit it, and anyway the (very large) house was shuttered and obviously closed for the winter - I'll refrain from posting my views on extravagant second homes - so we didn't feel guilty about venturing into the garden to expolore the dolmen.

Here's the details translated from the French Wikipedia page:

The dolmen is characterized by its funnel shape: it is a «V» burial, although it is often wrongly described as a covered alley. The dolmen measures 12.75 m in length with a width between 1 m on the west side and 2.25 m on the east side. The north side consists of a natural rock of 7 m in length extended by four orthostates whose length varies between 0.50 m and 1.25 m. The south side is delimited by seven orthostates inclined towards the interior of the chamber whose length varies between 1 m and 2,25 m. A slab almost perpendicular to the axis of the monument at its east end may constitute the bedt2.

The assembly is covered with a cover table 2.65 m long by 2.40 m wide and 0.35 m thick. A second table, broken into two parts, lies inside the chamber (the largest piece measures 1.60 m by 1.35 m and 0.45 m thick)2.

The remains of a peristallithic enclosure are visible around the dolmen protruding from the ground on the north and south sides. All slabs are made of Ploumana'h2 granite.

The building was reportedly excavated in ancient times, but in the early 20th century, “a polished stone axe, two flint tips and fragments of white coral” 3 were discovered.

( https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolmen_de_l%27%C3%8Ele_Renote)

 

 

 

Trégastel Neolithic Stones and a very High Tide

Yesterday (Sunday) I went to Trégastel in seach of stones.

Standing stones, that is.

I'm quite infamous for having no sense of direction, however there are signs pointing people to the  dolmen and 'allée couverte de Kergüntui' as you drive in on the Lannion to Trégastel road, so even I had no trouble finding this site yesterday.

I parked in a small grassy lay-by and set off across the field (privately owned but open to the public) to the stones.

First, the dolmen...

It looks quite ordinary from the outside, doesn't it? Just another dolmen in a field, you might think. Nice enough but only worthy of a photo or two?

But step inside (mind your head, the capstone is quite low) and you'll see there's more to this dolmen than a few megaliths and a large capstone...

There's this, for instance in the wall on the left. 

And this in the long wall facing the entrance...

 And this view from inside...

Lest you think the people of the neolithic era built it like this, the dolmen was once a dwelling place and later a stable, but it's still quite charming for all the 'modern additions', I think, and who wouldn't like to downsize to a dolmen? 

For historical accuracy I should note that it was originally three orthostates (stone blocks) and a capstone. 

For those who like details: the capstone is 5.75 m long, 3.55 m wide and 0.75 m thick. The orthostate on the north side is 2.0 m high, 1.50 m wide and 0.20 m thick. The orthostate on the west side is 2.0 m high, 2.55 m wide, and 0.40 m at the base and 0.30 m at the top. The southern orthostate (resting on an embankment) is 2.40 m high, 2.50 m wide, and 0.35 m thick.

For the more whimsical, the dolmen is said to have once been the home of a spinner who produced such large amounts of yarn that he was thought to have superhuman powers.  

And then to the covered alley across the field...

This was discovered and restored a little 'casually' by the local people of Trégastel in 1939. 

It consists of six orthostates on the north side and seven on the south side, in addition to two 'bedside' (end) slabs - one to the west and one to the east. Four capstones comprise the roof. 

Inside there is little headroom so you need to crouch and crawl to see decorations on these othostates. If you number them fron one to six, starting fromn the left, the fourth orthostate is decorated with six pairs of raised breasts, roughly aligned and finished with a hollow-stitched necklace. The fifth has two pairs of breasts but only one pair is highlighted by a collae. The second orthostate has a pair pf breasts but the positioning of the stone means it has been buried and is no longer visible..

And the details: The covered walkway is 8.50 m long by 1.40 m wide on the east side and 1.75 m west side. The height varies between 1.0 m and 1.20 m. It is oriented east-southeast-west-northwest. The largest capstone measures 3.30 m long by 1.95 m wide and 0.50 m thick; smallest is 1.30 m long by 1.10 m wide and 0.40 m thick.

The other engravings on the orthostates date from the 20th or 21st century.  Or perhaps they are the work of that prolific spinner who lived across the field? 

Leaving the site, I drove back towards Lannion to find the Menhir de Trémarch which is om the Route du Calvaire.

It's not as impressive as the previous stones, but a mnehir is a menhir and who knows the significance of this one to the people who placed it here? 

This is not its original site, it was relocated in 1960.

Measurements: 3.18 m high, 0.95 m wide at the base and 0.86 m wide at the top, so its larger than it looks in this photo.

 I'd quite like to own a house next to a menhir, I thought, as I took this photo...

The writer in me can easily conjure up all manner of mystical and magical midnight capers such a menhir might attract. 

And so to the second menhir, the menhir de Keredol, also known as the menhir de sainte Anne and the menhir de Kerlavosis. This menhir is situated outside the town's library, having also been relocated from its original site. 

Measurements: 2.40, high, 0.70 m at its widest at the base and 0.25 m wide at the top.

For the linguists: the word menhir was adopted from French by 19th-century archaeologists. Interestingly, since we're in Brittany, it's a combination of two Breton words: maen and hir - stone and long.

You'll notice in these two the typical tapering shape.  

That we can't date them accurately, save to say they are thousands of years old, and since we don't know for sure why they were erected, they're quite fascinating stone structures. 

And then I left the Neolithic stones and went in search of some pink granite stones and a pink granite beach because I can't be near the sea and not take a swim. Even in winter, but especially in summer.

It was low tide so this was the view of le baie de Sainte-Anne with the Chateau de Costaèrés and le phare de Ploumanac'h (the lighthouse) on the sentier des douaniers in the distance. 

And when I pulled in to the parking areas at la plage du Tourony I found this:

A tide so low all that I could see was mud and sand, and even the channel into the port at Ploumanac'h had been reduced to a mere stream.

I settled down to snooze, read a little of La Peste (Camus) and watch the people digging for shellfish and those with dogs who were steadfastly ignoring the signs informing them that dogs are forbidden from the beach in the summer.

Once it had turned the tide came in very quickly. In fact, it was such a high tide that when I swam out past the rocks and into the open stretch, I found myself in a current that tried to carry me into Ploumanac'h and had to swim hard to escape it. 

A salutary lesson not to underestimate the strength of the sea.

The day ended with blue skies, a bright blue sea, and a tiny strip of sand that was all that remained of the beach when the tide had reached its maximum height.

I swam several times before sitting on the sand to simply stare at that view. It never gets old. 

  And then, with the sun starting to sink in the sky behind me, I drove home salty, sandy and smiling.

Plage du Moulin, encore une fois

Yesterday I returned to Plage du Moulin for lunch with friends.

The sky was overcast but the sea temperature was perfect.
At least it was for a person who swims all year.
My friends found it a tad nippy.

As usual, I was first in, last out.
If I could, I'd spent 10 hours a day immersed in sea water.

We dined at a table outside and with our toes in the sand, which was what I'd requested when I called to make the researvation.
A kir cassis, fish and chips and ice cream, followed by coffee.
Parfait.

And then I collected the sea shells that I only ever find at that beach. I managed to accumulate a whole shoe full of shells, but on walking back across the beach I met a little girl who was digging furiously in the sand:
"Salut, qu-est-ce que tu cherches?' I asked.
"Salut. Rien, je fais simplement un trou."
"Un grand trou?" I asked.
"Je sais pas, je vais voir ce qui se passe..."
"Bonne idée. Tu veux un coquille?" I asked.
"Quelles belles coquilles! Oui s’il vous plaît !"

 
After I'd also handed out shells to her sisters, brother and her teenage cousin, my shoe was a lot lighter. But so was my heart. :)

When I caught up with my friends they asked why I was smiling.
"No reason, just that I love French kids," I told them.

 

 

Les Pécheurs du Plage du Moulin

Easter Sunday, and our first lunch at Plage du Moulin. 

I'd called to make a reservation, une table extérieure, les pieds dans le sable, which was a wise move because the restaurant was very busy. We sipped our Kir cassis and nibbled on a shared platter of meat and cheese appetisers, and smiled and said how lucky we are to live in Brittany, and how we never cease to appreciate our lives here...     

(https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100066774700175)

And as we finished eating and were licking the last of the salted caramel ice cream from our glasses/plates/bowls, we were amazed to see hundreds of people descend on the beach armed with buckets, nets and little forks. 

People of all ages: alone, in groups and families. 

Those on the sand were looking for cockles...

Those in the sea were searching for scallops...

And the harvests were bountiful.

I tried hunting for cockles and discovered that it's easy: look for a small hole in the sand and dig down, but I'm not a fan of fruits de mer so all that I found I buried again. 

No, we were searching for seashells and little living creatures which can only be seen among the rocks and in the rock pools at low tide. 

Sue spotted this treasure: "Look," she said, "how this little piece of seaweed appears to be walking." 

We watched and realised, yes, it was walking. How curious. Sue scooped it up so we could examine it closely. The clump of seaweed was a cleverly camouflaged crab.

A little spider crab. 

"With 700 or more species of spider crab, it may be hard to explain each species. While most have spiny exoskeletons, very long legs, and a long body, there are some which don’t look much different than other kinds of crab. All spider crab do, however, have 10 legs with the first two tipped in claws. Many use the spines and hooks on their backs to purposefully attach seaweed, dead creatures, and other debris to them for extra camouflage. These species can be found all over the world, with some even being discovered in the depths of the Antarctic." 

(https://www.allthingsnature.org/what-is-a-spider-crab.htm)

I've met them before on a beach further up the coast but those guys were playing hide-and-seek in the sand, not dipping into the dressing-up box. 

Here's one I found which didn't live long and prosper...

It turns out Sue is really good at finding things: like this tiny ghost-like starfish...

I found some hermit crabs in pretty shells. Hermit crabs should be handled them with care: if they feel threatened they have been known to leap from the shell and scuttle, naked, away. 

Probably not the best form of defence? Streaking across the sand.

And some fascinating fucus: This one looked like a sea creature. We had to touch it to be sure it wasn't a lobster in disguise and when we stroked its 'back' it opened up like a fan.  

We clocked up a surprising 5 km walking on the beach and down to the shoreline at such a low tide. 

I had hoped to swim but there were too many pécheurs in the water and the sea was too low, even for a person of smaller height. And, actually, just wandering and observing and finding new things was enough fun for a change. 

New Adventures

 I said goodbye to my beach buddy on Saturday. 

Tashi 31/10/2005 - 15/01/2022  

For the last couple of years he'd been blind, slightly affected by the stroke he suffered in 2019 but still living a good life with me as his guide-human and devoted carer. But the time had come.

Yesterday I decided I should go to my playground to have a new adventure.

Without a dog it was a whole different experience. Sad, poignant, and there were tears, but there were also some highlights. For instance, being able to climb the pink granite boulders, crawl into semi-caves and explore places I've never been able to access before.

And rock creatures I'd never been able to get close enough to touch before...

And rock pools whose worlds I'd never been able to sit and observe before

I walked along the slippery path, up the steep steps, over the scary bridge to the lighthouse...

And discovered new places there also...

It's amazing what you find when you take a different path.

By one o'clock I was ready to risk a swim. 

Sadly, the tide had retreated too far at Tourony...

Tant pis.

I drove to Trestrignel instead where I had the entire beach and sea to myself.

It was cold, but I've known colder seas so I braved it and swam for thirty minutes.

All in all, and given the sadness of being 'sans chien' for the first time in sixteen years, it was a good day. A very good day indeed.

  

Le Bain du Nouvel An - Trestraou

"Un peu plus de 150 baigneurs ont célébré l’entrée dans l’année 2022, samedi en fin de matinée, à Trestraou. Seul, en famille, entre amis, jeunes ou moins jeunes, déguisé ou simplement vêtu d’un maillot de bain. Quinze degrés dans l’air, une eau autour de 10 degrés, un premier bain aux saveurs de printemps plutôt que d’automne qui a attiré son lot de spectateurs bien moins nombreux que lors de la dernière édition qui a eu lieu en 2020, l’édition 2021 ayant été annulée."

(https://www.letelegramme.fr/cotes-darmor/perros-guirec)

My first New Year's Day swim...

I don't look very happy but I was. It was lovely. 

A tad cold when I emerged after 30 minutes, and getting dressed with numb fingers and shivering limbs was not easy but it was worth it to have swum on New Year's Day.

The pictures give the impression that it was a cold, grey day. Au contraire, for most of the time the sun shone and it felt quite spring-like.

We were hoping to enjoy a vin chaud, or a hot chocolate but there were none in sight, so we drove to Trégastel and had coffee and a very sticky chocolate and caramel kouign amman instead.

Not a bad way to start 2022, was it? 

 

Pink Granite Therapy - June 5th

High tide at Trégastel was early yesterday, and the weather forecast was not promising, but nine weeks of lock down had made me determined to carpe diem and with a very high tide promised....

I was awake early and the sun was almost shining through a cover of thin cloud and so I made as flask of coffee, fed the cat, roused the slumbering dog and set off for the coast.

We drove on roads that were totally empty.

It's not unusual for there to be little traffic on the dual carriageways here, in fact congestion is very rare and usually confined to the approaches to cities like St Brieuc and Lannion during rush hour, but even so it was strange not to see any other cars.

When we pulled up at the beach the weather was indeed unwelcoming, but the tide was definitely high.

As I stripped to my swimsuit and it started to rain so I returned to my car to wait it out which may seem strange, since I was going to get wet anyway, but I do not swim in the rain.

As soon as the shower passed I was in the sea. 

And it was cold but, I reminded myself, not as cold as that day in January when I took a dip from the beach at Trestraou, so I swam...

I swam out to the first buoy which seemed a long way in such a high tide.

I swam to the area at the left that I call my 'tropical bay' because it's sheltered by the pink granite rocks and the sea is calmer and warmer there.

I swam for thirty minutes and while I swam the clouds were swept aside and the sun came out and the weather was perfect for Tashi's walk.

We walked quite a long way and left the track to wander through fields before finding our way back to the beach.

Since it was still early, I drove to Ploumanac'h to see check out Le Mao. 

I've missed my lunches at Le Mao. They closed at the end of the summer season, put away all the outdoor tables and chairs, took down the strings of lights and the staff went off to their winter jobs in warmer places, so I'd been eagerly awaiting their re-opening in April but the lock down meant that their doors remained firmly closed.

But here in France the lock down has now been lifted a little and restaurants have been allowed to re-open, albeit with some restrictions o I was hopeful.

And, yes, there were people there preparing for their re-opening on Tuesday.

I asked if I should book a table?

No, they were expecting to see me.

Which was the cherry on my cake...