Étretat

While we did spend five full days on the western coast of Brittany, which was lovely, I find myself however, for the moment, compelled to share this amazing place on earth we find ourselves for our last two days in France. 

The incredible beauty of this place just cannot wait one second longer. We are only here for two nights, as a waypoint to break up the long ride home. 

The path follows the coast (cliffs) for miles with shear drops straight down. Signs are posted everywhere telling people to not be stupid and stay away from the edge due to risk of death. There is also one interesting sign posted next to a stair going all the way down telling visitors in several languages not to stand under the cliffs. I found this sign's placement confusing. And, I did take the stair down. 

I doctored this shot up quite a bit because it felt really dramatic getting caught in a thunderstorm. We got wet and it was scary. 

The beach is covered in "pebbles" of various sizes and you are not allowed to take them. They make the bubbly sound when the waves wash over them.  

We are staying in a cute, very bohem room in a house with an incredible view of the cliffs. The city is below and can be seen through the trees in the yard. It's a popular tourist spot as it's only May and there are small crowds of people crawling all over the cliffs, including Americans, the first we've come across on this long trip through France. I cannot even imagine what summer is like. 

Out the driveway and turn left, go up the hill and from the cliffs is a perfect view of what must be the most famous photo of Étretat. It really is breathtakingly beautiful. 

The weather seems to be quite wet here as it's very muggy and has rained both days. We won't be here long enough to know of this is normal but I get the sense that it is. 

Heading home tomorrow. It will be a long trip. 

North

We left at 0842 and returned nine hours later. I had eight stops planned along the côte d'emeraude starting at Cap Fréhel and ending at the granite rose cliffs. It was always going to be a long day. 

Cap Fréhel

The day started foggy, which can make cliffs and ocean interesting, so I wasn't worried. And Cap Fréhel did not disappoint as our first stop. It was early and only a couple other people. There was a good wind coming up the cliffs. 

There was an interesting sea formation with nesting gulls leaning into the wind. 

Then we drove on to the next five stops, none of which were near in comparison to Cap Fréhel. We hopscotched the coast, driving through tiny cliff side towns, down narrow streets that seemed to lead to nowhere, to come upon a parking lot and a tiny trail. 

One stop had some promise but we ended up cutting our list short and driving to the rose cliffs, which were still an hour away, thinking, they better be good. 

And they were amazing. 

The cliffs are for real pink!

And the water so blue. We stayed for at least an hour; the granite coast is quite large and the formations so unique in both shape and coloring. 

It's as if someone stacked huge pink boulders with softened edges on top of each other to see how long they would stay in place. 

So that was a big day. We were pretty exhausted and hungry by the time we got back but felt the trip well worth it. 

My original plan for the following day had been to get up before sunrise to go to Mt. Saint Michel, but sleep won that battle. We stayed in for the morning, then took a walk into Dinan near the marina.

Since Saint Malo was only a 30 minute drive (I was so done with driving), we decided to go in the evening when traffic was light. I'm so glad we did. 

Bridge to island gets covered by the tide leaving people stranded by the current until the tide goes back out

As one of the last strongholds during WWII, the walled city was heavily bombed. I wasn't sure what to expect, I thought there would be more of the original town left, but it's mostly all been rebuilt, except for the battlements, they seem to be the original.

We walked all along the top of the wall, and the beach surrounding the city. The tide was quite low and it was very peaceful. It's hard to describe but there is a worn charm to the place. I think it would feel very different at the height of tourist season. 

So far we are finding this little slice of France to vary greatly in it's geography and microculture. Heading to the western end of Brittany we find even more of this local difference. 

Adventures in Bretagne, South and North

 Part 1: South

Rochefort-en-Terre is famous for its flower displays

Two days of heavy adventuring behind us and hours and hours of driving.

Yesterday we went to Rochefort-en-Terre, by official standards one of the most adorable towns in Brittany. 

It was super cute and the shops too I bought three kinds of honey from an Apiary products store. I also got a Breton brewed beer and didn't like it, though it was quite unique. 

But my favorite part was the chateau. There was a park and grounds which were peaceful and tastefully done. The wishing well, sadly covered with a protective grate, went down and down into the depths when I hollered into it.  

Rochefort-en-Terre is an artsy town with many of the shops selling local artists wares, and at least one art museum. Oh, and the magic - they are very much into the whole Merlin thing, which brings me to part two of the day. 

Broceliande forêt made the "maybe" list. So, since it was on the way back, we stopped off for a quick 3 mile hike. According to Breton lore, Broceliande forêt is where Merlin and his friends hung out. It was a magical hike through the forest with two small lakes, a little stream running the length of the trail, and a bit of a climb up a rocky hill.

 

By the end of the day we were fully exhausted and too tired to find a real grocery store. I sent Jim into the Aldi because my experience with the Lidl across the street was hateful. He came out with two things and a frown. So I took him to the Lidl. He came out zero things and a bigger frown.

After we got back to our castle room, ravenously hungry, I looked up and found some real grocery stores, and they said they were open on Sunday! 

Well, the internet lies. 

So we went to the ocean. Look for beautiful pics of the Emeraude coast later. 

Looking for a Village

Part of the purpose of this trip is to see how we like the Bretagne region as a place to call retirement. We are starting out pretty tired after driving for two days, but our aversion to "city" has not changed. 

Looking to the Port of Dinan from the English garden

We drove from Beauvais to Dinan; not a long drive, but not short either, and the traffic was much heavier than the previous day. Out lodgings are quite lovely; we're staying in a castle which has been broken up into multiple apartments, most of which are occupied by permanent residents. But out room is huge and open with nice views and big windows. 

Io is demonstrating how he feels about the driving.

After taking a chill we walked the mile into the heart of Dinan and visited the famous places all the travel blogs talk about. We were too tired to do much more than look, and shops were starting to close, but it looked like the restaurants were gearing up for a festive Friday night. 

 I read about the street this building is on, it's special for some reason. Perhaps it's very old. 

Then we came upon Rue du Jerzual, which was also on my to-do list for unknown reasons. But, probably not too hard to figure out; it has to be the oldest street in the city. We didn't follow it all the way down because I think it goes to the river, which would have meant a big climb back up, but the doors were all short! Such that you'd have to bend over to enter. At the city wall (did I mention Dinan is a walled city? like so many french villages) I managed to get a shot of the street looking up and it is very scenic. 

Finally we headed back and rested up for another, ideally more relaxing, day. 

Dinan aquaduct is now a busy road

J'aime la France!

A way point, on our way to vacation in Brittany, we stopped at Beauvais to help break up the drive, and to avoid driving through Paris. 

Northern France is the first place we've been in Europe that reminds us of Michigan, meaning it's pretty flat. But there are fields and fields stretching on forever of green and yellow. The traffic was non existent, although the tolls for this glorious hassle free driving were a surprise. 

Église Saint Etienne

We found a Thai restaurant to practice our poor french language skills, but were successful in securing Jim a vegan meal before wandering the city.

An old carousel in the pedestrian area felt like it had seen some history. Église Saint Etienne was beautiful in its ancient stone walls and flying buttresses, imbuing a calm to the surrounding area. 

Our hotel is very close to La Cathedral St. Pierre, the most famous cathedral in Beauvais. At first we walked around the outside and found it surrounded by a protective fence due to pieces of the church shedding huge chunks of itself onto the earth. It was a little creepy scary and until I went inside had the impression that the cathedral is not being well maintained. 

And maybe it's not, but the inside was remarkable in it's beauty, vastness, and uniqueness. 

Looking up from one of the massive ends

Tomorrow we head for Dinan, where we will stay for four nights before heading to our ocean getaway at the eastern end of the region. 

Hello aus Deutschland!

 So, it has been a very long time, like, almost six years!

And so much has happened and changed!!!

In April of 2019 I moved to Germany with my dog, Applejack. In June of that same year Jim joined me and we began our life as US Expats. 

Looking out our balcony onto the valley below

To sum it up so as not to bore you with six years of history that is so very far behind, we now have another addition to our family, io, a Silken Windhound. We took a train up to Bremen and got him when he was a pup and he's pretty special. It took Applejack a few days to warm up to him but they get a long pretty well. 

And the dogs love Germany! There are so many places to walk and hike and things to see. Covid lockdowns forced us to explore our immediate vicinity, which is on the edge of the palatinate forest, and we found so many treasures. 

Dogs in the Mullerthal, Luxembourg

We have had many adventures in our three years here. We have been to Austria, the German Alps, Luxembourg has been a beautiful surprise and only 1.5 hours away, the adorable Alsace region of France, Northern Germany to the island of Sylt, the Netherlands, and Slovenia.

And we are still on track to retire in France in 2-4 years and are working on figuring that out. 

Not too far from home

 There's still a lot on the list and I will endeavor to keep the page updated. 

So What Now?

It’s at least two years before we make any sort of move. Two years to endure these empty fields. Aside from the emptiness there’s the whole practicality of it – it’s going to turn to weeds! It’s already started; this year is the worst ever for weed growth as we’ve gradually diminished our livestock population over the last few years. 

As I drive out in the morning I am in the habit of looking into the field, usually to see my beautiful horses munching on grass. Or in the evening on our dog walk I always watched them watching us. In the middle of the night if I needed a walk they were out there, quiet and kind of spooky, but brave in their knowledge of how safe we all really are. 

Now, emptiness. In my fields, in my heart, in my soul. 

I am grieving. 

Logically I know that we have done the right thing all ways around. I keep coming back to that logic, imagining them in their new happy place. 

And we are free! We can go WHEREVER we want to WHENEVER we want to … as long as the dogs can come. We haven’t been able to do that in a very long time. And when we could before we didn’t have the means, so this is a new freedom, really. 

So if I am free, where is my joy? 

Each day it gets a tiny bit easier. Maybe in a few months the pang in my heart will soften to a soft thump every time I look out at the field, or see a picture of horses. 

Suddenly, I am seeing pictures of horses everywhere. On the internet. In my computer files. A continual reminder of my voluntary loss. 

WHAT are we going to do for the next two years? Listen to the silence; the silence that is more absolute now than it was a few days ago. 

 The presence of a soul is an enormity. 

I feel like I have retired from life when I should be feeling like I’m embarking on a new exciting adventure. Except that my new exciting adventure is a few years away yet. I will have to create mini exciting adventures to pass the time. 

Which I will do. 

Jim and I are still working through the concept of “retiring” somewhere amazing. Where is this amazing place? Is it France? The more I read the more I wonder. Is it Germany? Even more of an unknown although the language is so much easier than French. Can I really leave my children an ocean away and be good with it? Really??? Really really really? I tell myself yes but what if they need us? 

Perhaps the grass is not so green on the other side of that ocean. Perhaps it is. We will give it a try and see, just a little bit, where the wind blows us. I will try to listen to its quiet message and follow my true heart. 

  Either way, we’re going somewhere.

It's a Scary Thought

After obsessing over My Road to France for about six months, and with the help of this blog to clear my head and sort things out, I find myself with doubt. 

This whole thing is at best, 1035 days off. I can make up my mind much much later. 

I discovered a crack in the painting on the ceiling in the foyer. We actually cannot reach that part of the house. We need a huge tall ladder. It’s like, 20 some feet up. And it has to be fixed in order to sell this house. And the chandelier; we haven't been able to reach the chandelier for cleaning (same location, flaw in our design). So we need that ladder anyway. 

The ladder we need to clean the chandelier and fix the ceiling is $800. That’s why I didn’t buy it before when we were looking. 

We could rent a ladder, but then we have to get it here. 

And we could use a 20’ ladder to clean the lights in the barn, and maybe those walls too. 

Ugh I don’t want to buy a ladder. 

As I look out off the back deck I ponder what life in Europe will be like. My personal space; my home, my "garden" will be so much smaller. There will be noise from the village. These are all things that drove me to the country in the first place. Am I going to like living there? If we sell our house there is no way we would ever be able to find something like this again. All my space; my green woods, the green pastures, the large rooms in my house (that is getting way too big for us now anyway since two boys have left). I won't be able to come back. But then, I don't want to come back to here anyway. 

Do I? 

Will I regret leaving all of this? 

Can I leave my children behind? People do this, right? Or perhaps vice versa - their children leave them. I think I'm pretty ok with all of that as long as they are doing ok, but it will be weird not being able to hop in the car and drive 45 minutes to go see them. 

And I not-so-secretly hope they will find a way to follow us anyway. 

So, I'm getting cold feet. 

Thus and therefore, it is time to look at some pretty pictures to remind me of why I want to immerse myself in a new culture; a different kind of spaciousness, a different kind of lifestyle. New adventures. New trails to conquer. Beach, forest, mountain, lake bistro, cafe, boulangerie, patisserie.

There are two locations that catch my gaze right now. The first is Talloires, France, which is a town on Lac d'Annecy (Lake Annecy), a lovely mountain lake refuge. 

The idea of a mountain lake provides me everything I think I want: I love the water. And, I love the mountains. 

I love water because, well, I grew up near water and have always enjoyed swimming. But even more than that, water cleanses my soul somehow. It brings me peace when I am at war with myself. It has always done this for me. 

As do the trees, but in a softer, more subtle, slower way. Water fixes me up immediately. I have to spend time with the trees to get rooted again. 

Mountains. I have not really spent a lot of time in the big mountains but whenever I have I have enjoyed the expansive vista and the ability to see SO FAR AWAY. It's like this limitless, untouchable, infinite feeling that I cannot quite grasp and so it holds my interest. 

A mountain lake, like Lake Annecy, is surrounded by small (ish) mountains, so day hikes of varying difficulty would abound. 

And the town is so pretty and colorful, according to the photos. 

The other area is Servoz, which is very close to Chamonix and, maybe, a little bit more affordable for us, yet within driving distance to beautiful Mont Blanc and the Chamonix Valley.

This is Noah conquering a rock on the ascent to Lac Blanc in 2014 (that time when I fell in love with France, which led to falling in love with the idea of living in France). 

SEE WAY OVER to the other side? Across the valley to the mountains on the other side? There are glaciers and mountain peaks that look like they are at the same height as we are but they are SO MUCH higher. 

And the mountain air. Oh gosh. So refreshing. Clean. Clear. Open. Invigorating. If you climb a mountain there is no way you can do it without getting a really great workout; you are always going up. Up and over the next hill, always something new to see because you NEVER reach the top ... unless you are a professional and have all the gear and everything and take several days, which is completely unnecessary for my purposes. 

Aiguilles Du Midi  - yeah, I took that picture! Isn't it awesome? There is a lookout at the top that we neglected to go to, so I have to remedy that next time. 

I told Noah, when we went to France, that the danger in traveling to far away and amazing places is that it can make your current life seem small and boring, and to be careful about this; not allow your current life to become small and boring just because you saw something new. 

I thought I was being wise when I told him this.

Here I am in front of Le Dru. There is a huge glacial valley between where I'm standing and the actual mountain peak, but it looks so close, doesn't it? 

Le Dru is my favorite mountain in the Chamonix Valley. I don't know why, but it is. 

And on the way to Le Dru we stopped by this amazing, quiet lake called Lac Bleu. We took the cable up Lac Bleu and walked over to Le Dru. It was a beautiful walk and we saw so many beautiful sites; flowers, rivulets, rocks. Stopping for lunch on a big rock and just peacefully becoming one with the space. Gazing out at the other side of the valley to the mountains we had climbed earlier in the week.

So, that is a taste of the mountain scene. Looks kind of cold and vast and gray. Very alpine. And it is of course. That must be why they make the towns in the valleys SO ADORABLE!

And then, there is the sea. I love the sea. The sound of the water on the rocks as it rushes back to the sea, popping all the tiny air bubbles in between the rocks. I found it so comforting. 

It would be just a drive away and a long weekend.