Saturday July 1, 2017
This has been our last full day in Roscoff and the sun came out for the occasion. The rain started on Thursday afternoon, just as we were leaving the garden on the Île de Batz. By the time we’d walked the twenty minutes to the Ile de Batz ferry terminal, we were drenched, at least in the front from rain jacket hem down. There was a brisk wind worthy of Wellington which drove the rain against us. When we arrived at Roscoff, we had to disembark at the end of a very long pier, as the tide was out. This time the rain was driven on to our backs and we were drenched on the other side. Wet jeans are not comfortable.
The rain continued on and off yesterday, and it was the coldest it has been since we’ve been in France and colder even than the occasional wet day we had in England. However, it has passed today, though the wind was still a bit Wellington-like in exposed places. We started the day following the test match. We couldn’t find a sports bar so had to follow live update comments, which we did on the UK Telegraph’s site. Disappointed the ABs couldn’t hold out for the draw, but hey, it makes for a good final test.
Coffee and croissant/pain au chocolat at the salon du thé across the road, as has been our habit this week, and then off to another garden of exotic plants, this one just past the Brittany ferry terminal. It always surprises me for a moment to see flax and cabbage trees classified as exotics but of course that is exactly what they are in the northern hemisphere. Of course you don’t need to go to a garden of exotic plants to see them over here because they are everywhere. Still, it gives me a buzz to see them this side of the world. They thrive here, too.
Later this afternoon we went for a walk along the sandy beaches on the west coast of Roscoff. The tide was out so we were able to walk as far as we wanted along the beach. There’s no continuous promenade because private properties jut out every so often, blocking off access by path above high tide. We finished the day with dinner at the crèperie below our flat — both are owned by Jean Luc, who as well as a crêpe chef is also an established artist, selling in Paris and New York. But more on that another time. For now, some photos to celebrate flowers in the sun. Tomorrow we leave Roscoff by ferry for Plymouth and so the end of the holiday starts.
PS. I think I’m getting a little obsessed with photographing flowers so I’ve included a flaky-paint door to liven things up a bit.