chowgypsy: And the French Luck Continues...Touring Brittany for Free (!)

In a not-so-scandalous coup d’etat, our new friend Anne kidnapped us from the farm, Daddy Warbucks style.

Adieu, Wwoofing farm #3!

Her kids had missed us after we parted ways the week before (luckily the only requirement for being liked by a kid is to make funny faces while you fail at communicating with them), so she invited us over Thursday for sight-seeing, dinner, and a sleepover. We stole away that morning, leaving the farm behind with a mild sadness—we would surely miss the fellow volunteers and the goats. The potatoes? Not so much.

Our final sunset at the farm--this was how the evenings made it up to us for the consistent daily rains

Thursday’s adventure brought us to Camaret, a lovely coastal town with lots of shops and general touristic things oriented toward fish. It was raining, but you know what? When you're being driven around coastal France for free instead of doing farm work, you take what you can get.

Camaret coast and the Notre Dame de Rocamadour, notice the church's nautical themes, which make me giggle a bit

That night, Anne made a locally-caught crab, her daughter Amelie and I made chocolate chip cookies, Yannick made crepes for all, and bedtime brought us to a contented and deep sleep.

Boiling water flavored with Herbs de Provence, French sea salt, and....crab

The next morning, just when you thought Anne couldn’t get any nicer, the woman decided to bring us to our next rendezvous in Rostrenen—an hour away. AND she gave John and me 2 Brittanese-style scarves (with stripes)!

I want to point out that all of this began with our simple attempt to speak French with Anne. Sure, our sentences might not have made any sense, but she understood that we were nice people who were open to her culture, and that's how the genial doors to her home were opened. Don't underestimate the power of being culturally aware—a few blundering sentences in a foreign language is sometimes all it takes.

I can only shake my head when I think of all the stories you hear about French people being rude to tourists...

Amelie and I model our matching Brittany-esque stripes and Yannick shows his crepe-making skills

But then again, maybe Anne isn’t just one of the “French people”—maaaybe she’s an angel?

Before we venture onward, a few more pictures of Pleyben and Woofing at Domaine Bio de Kerjean...

A lunch-break bike ride brought us to the
churchyard of the Chapel of St. Germain

Chapel of St. Germain, constructed circa 1530

Kind of a big deal?
Chapel of St. Germain

Inside the Chapel of St. Germain

That's what I call an organ.
Chapel of St. Germain

Walking around the farm

Oh my stupid, stupid sheep friends

An apple compote cake made to celebrate the birthday
our host, Jean-Yves. Of course it displays the farm mascot,
a goat, to entice you to chow down... (John was the artiste)

We did go out to eat one day to what was supposedly the bestcreperie in Brittany, Le Stirwen. John's sausage & compote
crepe was sub-par as it lacked enough compote, and my pate,truffle, and pate ice cream (!) crepe was absolutely divine.