Le pays de la pluie éternelle

Every time I mention the region of la Bretagne (Brittany), a large swath of the northwest corner of France, to my mom she says, "Ooohh, le pays de la pluie éternelle!" ("Ooohh, the land of eternal rain!") She spent a month there in the summer of 1993, and it must have rained a lot to have left such an impression. Contrary to her experience, the two times I've been (this past September and this Easter weekend) we've had glorious sunny weather. It is true, though, that Brittany is known for its rainy climate, but it seems that if you travel there with members of the Leduc family, the sun seems to shine without fail (we've deemed this l'effet de la famille Leduc). Umbrellas aside, Brittany is a Celtic region known for its beautiful rocky coastline, quaint sailing villages and ports, hard cider and crêpes (or are they galettes? this question is fodder for major debate among locals), and it's good-natured, down-to-earth inhabitants whose surnames all start with Le or Ker or Le Ker. I'm not the first to say that it reminds me a lot of the Maine coast.

We drove up the Friday of Easter weekend for 3 days chez David et Angéline in Auray. It was a full house (there were 8 of us in total), which made for a more-than-merry few days of traipsing around, exploring the coast...

Here's a shot of David, Jordan, and Sylvain on an all-boys reconnaissance walk (courtesy of Bastien Leduc Photography...actually all of these quality photos are his...thought he deserved some credit on the blog):


...hanging out on the beach, and eating LOTS of huîtres (oysters).

I am new to the world of oyster groupies. For a long time, I couldn't bear the taste and especially not the texture, which made me think mainly of mucus. Once I got past all that (you can, too!), I discovered how delicious the little suckers are. I highly recommend them with a dash of lemon juice or with a small spoonful of minced shallots and vinegar. Yum! Straight up is good, too (my dad is a purist and doesn't like his oysters adulterated with condiments), but not advised for the hesitant beginner.

And if you're really into oysters, you can head for the beach and chisel them off the rocks yourself, which is just what we did two Saturdays ago in Lochmariaquer:


We stumbled across the biggest bivalves I'd ever seen in my life (okay, I know I just said I'm new to the world of oysters, but these things were HUGE!). Bastien was more than happy to pry one (or two, or three...) open and sample it right there on the beach as we hammered and hacked at the shells around him:


And here we all are enjoying a feast of fruits de mer (seafood): huîtres, coques (cockles), praires, palourdes (two types of clams):


Sunday featured more of the same but with a crêpe/galette theme. We ate alongside Corto Maltese at a tiny crêperie in Le Pouldu, where Gauguin apparently spent much of his time when he wasn't chasing tail in Tahiti. Post-lunch siesta on the coast in the softest grass I've ever lain (laid?) on! Wish I could remember the name of the town it was in...worth a trip back just for l'herbe à calins (the cuddle grass as we took to calling it).

The boys, however, skipped the napping session and went off for an adventure in caillou-ting. Their made-up, extreme sport apparently consists of launching yourself from jagged rock to jagged rock, usually traversing at least 6 feet of water:


Team caillou-ting (L to R: Bastien, Sylvain, David, Jordan):


All this and not a drop of rain!