When we first arrived in Saint Enogat it was the beginning of October. Eight months seemed like a very long time. Yet here we are at the the end of our adventure; we can hardly believe how fast the months have flown past. Especially during this time when we have mostly been on lock-down, it has certainly proved to be a refreshing change from our normal life at the Maison Conti. It hasn’t felt like a vacation, much more like a second home. But our experiences have been during the off-season, when the pace of life is pleasantly slow. Last weekend, which was a holiday, convinced us that being in Dinard in the high season would not be the same at all. The number of people on the road and on the beach has at least tripled and camping cars are everywhere. We feel lucky to have chosen this particular slice of time. What a wonderful experience we have had!
During the entire time we have been living here, we have been looking forward to May, the month we expected to bring the most sun and the greatest warmth, real beach weather. We imagined ourselves spending hours on the sand, well before the crowds arrived. We’ve had some spectacular days, weather-wise, through out the months we’ve been here, but May has without any doubt been the most rainy, the most gray of all the eight months. It has not offered warm and sunny days at all. Perhaps that’s a blessing in disguise. It makes it easier to leave, I suppose.
The Paris family came to visit last weekend. We had a few brief moments of clear skies which we took advantage of. At one moment we packed a picnic and left the house with the sun streaming down upon us. We drove 10 minutes away, but by the time we reached our destination, the clouds had blotted out the sun, a frigid wind had picked up and the rain began to fall again.
We didn’t even bother to take our walk along the cliffs, but just found a parking lot and ate our sandwiches on some benches quickly before hurrying back home to play several rounds of Oh Hell, which was actually quite a lot of fun.
There was a rather dramatic at-sea rescue a few evenings back. A couple of kids capsized in their boat which must have sailed away, leaving them in the drink. Two ships quickly appeared. The small one plucked them from the water and wrapped foil blankets around their shoulders. The life boat ferried them to the bigger ship, where they were examined for hyperthermia I suppose (it really was like-winter weather) They then got back in the small boat which delivered them to shore, where a policeman was on hand to ask them questions, and jotted down the answers on a little note pad. We watched from the window and caught the scene midway, so most of what I’m saying here is conjecture and not the hard facts of the case. The thing we found curious about the incident was that the water at the distance they were rescued is about thigh-high, even for children.
I finished my eighth and final book for my seaside project, entitled A Sense of Place. I’ve enjoyed the format very much.
There are photos, drawings, some prints, my handmade stamps and this month even a rock “page,” with a beautiful heart-shaped rock Rick collected from our beach.
Just in the last two days, the weather has jumped from the low 50s to the 70s. We decided, like many others, to get on the road and take our last local tour yesterday. We drove down the Rance past Dinan to the charming hamlet of Léhon. We had never visited. It is a picturesque setting with an ancient bridge over the river. The town was settled by the Romans 2000 years ago, 1000 years before Dinan. The town is quiet and picture-perfect, with lovely gardens. It’s a 30 minute walk from Dinan to Léhon along the river path.
I began this blog to document our monts at the sea. Now that adventure comes to an end, since we leave here tomorrow to return to our normal life in the countryside. As we say farewell to our adventure here, I am saying farewell to this blog. Thank you for following along with me and I wish you all bright days and happy adventures.