Notre Weekend en Bretagne

After visiting Bretagne, I can’t decide if the South of France or the North is more enthralling.

Maia, Matthieu and I took a train from Paris and arrived hardly before midnight, after passing the two hours singing Disney movie songs simultaneously in French and English – we create friends wherever we go. Matthieu’s parents, who live in Bretagne, greeted us outside. When his dad approached me he gave me the kisses on the cheeks and said, “Hello, Fly!” The best way to start a hilarious weekend.

His mother, a tiny, gorgeous woman from whom Matthieu gets his Argentinean looks, greeted me, as well, but in French, since she speaks no English.

We piled into their car and drove only twenty minutes to the family vacation home. When I stepped out of the car, the air was so fresh I felt dizzy for a moment. I’ve never spent so much time in a city before, and I’d been in Paris about two months without leaving. I never thought I’d say this, but being outside of Paris felt amazing. Breathing clean air for the first time in months is a feeling I’ll never forget, nor will I forget the stars – I don’t remember ever seeing so many in the sky. Splotches of spilled milk everywhere – that’s how many stars I could see when I looked up. To my left the ocean waved at me, surrounded by cliffs and sparkling under a white moon.

I couldn’t see much, but I was immediately enchanted by the house. Matthieu’s great-great-grandfather built it by hand, before anyone built homes along the coast. Surrounded by a stone wall, it’s also built of stone, with two large, round windows of colorful stained glass – one facing the ocean, the other the garden, which is also outlined by a stone wall, complete with a magical arch and rose bushes.

 

Inside felt like I’d walked into a fairytale. There’s a fireplace, French doors looking out over the ocean, old furniture, and a wooden staircase. There are three floors, and to get to the third floor you get to walk up a narrow, winding staircase – the kind I’ve always dreamed of having in my future home.

Matthieu has a beautiful relationship with his parents; his dad is hilarious and playful and has the best, most contagious and characteristic laugh you’ve ever heard, and his mother has a very calming, sweet presence. She’s always smiling lovingly at her family and is so welcoming. Matthieu was hungry because he refused to eat dinner until he was back in Bretagne so he could eat good food, so although it was midnight, the whole family gathered in the quaint kitchen and made the famous Bretagne crepes (called gallettes) with ham, cheese and an egg on top. We ate those along with a bottle of Bretagne’s other staple – cider, or “cidre.”

We were all exhausted, so directly after dinner Matthieu’s dad brewed all of us Sleepy Time tea in the kitchen. We all gathered there to retrieve our cups of tea and then made our way upstairs – it was the sweetest thing, walking up the stairs together with our night time tea, all cozy, and saying goodnight before going to our separate rooms. It felt like Christmas Eve night.

Matt with his parents

Maia and Matt made sure I had the best room – the one with the balcony facing the ocean on the third floor. I almost gave myself an asthma attack from trying to breathe in so much of the clean, salty air. As I listened to the constant sound of waves breaking on the shore, I fell into one of the deepest sleeps I’d experienced in weeks.

I woke up at 11 a.m. the next morning. When I stepped out onto the balcony, I let the fairytale feeling fill my soul. The view was even more magical in color.

The left view from the balcony

Downstairs, Matthieu and Maia were eating crepes and drinking coffee from cups that I thought were bowls. Maia and I took our coffee bowls to sit by the ocean. Instead of climbing down to the water, we sat atop the grassy cliff. Honeybees buzzed all around us, and Maia and I spontaneously copied them by letting out a long, glorious “Ommmmmmm.”

Later, we took Matt’s parents’ car out so Matt could give Maia a lesson in driving a manual car. She got her license when we were in California with Q, the car we did all the travelling with along the California coast during Spring Break 2013, and Q was automatic. But now, Matt was an excellent teacher and Maia an impressive driver. I stuck my head out the window the whole time and took in the picturesque seaside houses. The goal was to make it to a seafood place to buy mussels. Like in Italy when all Maia talked about was mozzarella, in Bretagne all she could think about was mussels. Everything in that town closes very early, though, because there are so few people, so we didn’t get her seafood that night.

We did have a glorious lunch outside in the garden, though, with an appetizer of shrimps in some kind of heavenly sauce, then fish, then cheese and salad, of course. Afterward, we sprawled out in the sunshine and took siestas while enjoying our coffee.

When we’d recovered from the meal, it was time for Matt’s dad to go swimming. He’d been asking me if I was going to swim since I’d arrived, but I laughed it off each time thinking he was joking. In fact, I continued to think that, until he came out of the house wearing swim trunks and clear gel sandals, smiling from ear to ear and holding a towel.

We walked across the street and the rest of us laughed while watching him walk out into the waves like a madman. I jumped into freezing cold ocean water once – with Ben in Kennebunk, Maine, a few years ago in May, and I have no desire to do it again.

While he swam, Maia and I collected shells. Matt’s mom and I walked up ahead and talked in French about lots of random things. It was a fun challenge holding a conversation with someone who doesn’t speak any English. It’s amazing what a strong connection you can have with someone even when you can’t communicate verbally 100%, although I hardly struggled at all when talking to her, which was so encouraging for me.

Matt, his mom, and whimsical hot air balloons

The rest of our time was spent much the same as this – delicious meals, walks on the beach, reclining in gardens and by the ocean, Matthieu and his dad jamming on their electric guitars, Matt’s dad teaching us all how to do the tango and the waltz, his mom teaching me tai chi after dinner … So many magical moments.

Friendship shells

An enchanted path on a cliff along the coast

On Sunday we went to St. Malo, the city our train arrived at. It’s a walled port city on the English Channel. We walked the walls and watched the sun fall slowly behind the water. Everyone was dressed very casual, another nice break from life in Paris. Don’t get me wrong – I’m absolutely in love with Paris. But it’s always nice to get away to where it’s more relaxed and closer to nature.

Matt’s parents treated us to a late night dinner at a dimly-lit restaurant where, we all agreed, the music was prime – 1920’s jazz. We toasted with our wine and then enjoyed the most amazing seafood dinner I’ve ever had – mussels. Maia was very happy.

The walls of St. Malo

Sunset - there's England across the Channel!

 Since my classes started two weeks ago and I’m settled into daily life in Paris now, keeping up with my blog is a little more difficult; capturing all the details and finding time to write about them is always difficult, but especially so now, but I’ll try to at least post pictures every week or so.

I’m sending you all my love. <3