Mont-Saint- Michael and St Malo

I have visited this site many times over the past 40 years, the changes have been rung, things are not as they used to be. You can no longer get right up to the start of the causeway by car or in our case camper, you need to go to one of the many car parks, quite a distance from the causeway. You pay on leaving, jump on the free electric shuttle, this is very nice and it takes you via once stop to the end of the Mount side of the causeway, this is one of the  better tourist systems that I have come across and functions very well. 

We had decided that we would not climb the steps to the top, I have done it in the past, but at midday it would be chocker-block full of oriental camera clickers (now smart phones on sticks). 

We went to the famous La Mère Poulard only to be turned away as they no longer serve only the famous crepes, but you need to take one of the rather pricy meals. But we did get a one at the fast food outlet facing that famous restaurant. 

I used the toilet and then we headed back to the camper to get to Sant Malo and our overnight campsite. It was across the bay from the actual town of Sant Malo, at the top of a hill that looked over the entrance to the harbour, it had also been the site of one of the most heavily armoured German sites on this part of the coast. It is now a museum and a place of remembrance to WW2.

We got set up and then decided to take a walk into town, this took us past the ferry terminal that takes the ferries from Sant Malo to Portsmouth, Poole and the Channel Islands, a Britany Ferry was in  port and the road that spans the inner harbour was not open as this allows small boats to enter the harbour. It was a very nice warm evening, so it was no problem to wait and watch the movement of of the small craft. Road now open (well actually closed) we walked along the city walls passing a couple of gates, we entered the city by the main gate and walked along the street that is full of restaurants, bric-a-brac shops, tourist traps and the inevitable Moule Frites at every corner. We sorted out a one that suited our fancy i.e. selling Moule Frites. 

We asked the waiter (one does in France, you do not go in and take your own table), the Waiter was a cheeky chappie who could talk a few lines in most languages our welcome was in cockney. We ordered our meals, Linda Moule Frites, I ordered a set menu, a half a dozen oysters and Mussels with chips (yes Moule Frites), now the frites were not real frites as in Holland or Belgium, skinny crispy uniform thin things, but real chips thick and rather nice. All very tasty and a meal that gave lie to the “No R in the month rule so prevalent in Germany and the UK, a load of piffle.

I thought that I was being clever and said I know where we can get a taxi back up to our campsite, being a man of many ports in many parts of the World, always a taxi rank at ferry terminals, so we legged it to the terminal, well, well ferry departed, no taxi’s this meant we had to hike back up the hill to the campsite. We settled down for the night and got the radio 4 on the radio this is set to go off after 1 hr so it meant we fell asleep to the book at bed time.

Next morning, we were up nice and early, I had a look around the Gun emplacements and took some photos of the Britany Ferry that had just arrived.

I went back and told Linda so we both went back up and had another look around the interesting defensive fortifications. 

A view across to the other side of the promontary

The harbour entrance

We then hitched up and headed down through the very narrow streets made even more narrower as it was market day, but we managed with a few stops and starts, got the right road that took us across Britany towards Quimper and then on to our friend Reiner who lives in Penmarc´h, he had already been out and sussed the site for us, alas not being a camper, the site he had selected had no electric connection, but as the site was not at all full we just moved to a pitch with a connection and also nearer the ablutions.