Position: 47°18’24.6″N 3°03’41.4″W

Places with evocative names like Paradise Valley or Bel Air are frequently the inverse of what their name inspires. Paradise Valley in Arizona was paved and covered in parking lots back in the 1960s. Bel Air sits just above Los Angeles, a city famed for its pollution. Our expectations of Belle-Île-en-Mer (Beautiful Island in the Sea) were therefore modest. Like the Danes, we set our expectations low and are pleasantly surprised when things turn out for the better. (Despite their sometimes glum demeanour, the Danes are some of the happiest people in the world.) After a couple of days exploring the largest of Brittany’s islands, we came away thoroughly charmed.

From Ushant, we pointed Aleta south and then east along the coast towards La Rochelle. The last two times we’d crossed the Bay of Biscay (the Bay of Biscuits as I like to call it) we did so without pause. This time we didn’t want to miss the dozens of inlets and coves that make for good sailing and anchoring in the calmer summer months. Calmer from the standpoint of the weather, not holidaymakers. August, of course, is the height of high season for sailing and this is France’s northern playground.

Razzle Dazzle

Cruising these waters is no less challenging than anywhere else in Brittany. The tides run as high, the currents run as strong, and the rocks are no less jagged. From the north the quickest way around is through the Raz de Sein. A channel famed for its tortuous currents, overfalls and sinkings. Much has been vlogged and blogged about this stretch of water, mostly alarmist tales of sailors taking risks in the heart of a winter storm and losing everything – including their cookies.

The TL;DR if you’re going to attempt it is: go with the flow on a calm day. My personal addition to this practical advice? Consider following the tide later in its cycle, rather than just as it turns. That gives the waters a chance to settle and the directional flows time to kick in. In any case, our transit turned out to be a nautical non-event and that gave us time to enjoy the splendid lighthouses and ragged outcroppings.

Belle-Île

Winds out of the northwest directed us towards the eastern end of the island with its nicely protected and roomy anchorage. On our second night we moved closer to the beach which helped minimise rocking from a swell that had snuck around the corner.

Rowing in at high tide made pulling our dinghy Axey up on dry land a short job. Six hours later, however, dragging her back to the water’s edge was a trek of a few hundred metres.

Our first foray on shore was a long walk along the coastal pathway north and west towards the main town of Palais. Clearly marked and well trodden, the path led us up and down the steep coastline.

l’été arrivé

Below us, in the bright sunshine, coves with white sand beaches bound by craggy wells were lapped gently by cool blue waters. The scene was all Mediterranean and it felt like the first day of summer. Swimmers either braved the cold water at low tide or waited until it had crawled across the sands and warmed up. Diving off Aleta in late afternoon was bracing and distinctly colder a half metre below the surface. Palais from our anchorage at Port Andro was a hike too far. Instead we turned inland towards Locmaria and paused for a few provisions at its supermarket.

The following day we took the southerly route which turned out even steeper and more beautiful. Aside from a few keen youngsters with backpacks, the trail was empty. Back in Locmaria we rewarded ourselves with an ice cream cone before heading back to the boat. Our timing was a little better. Carrying Axey back across the flat sands we found the sea a hundred metres closer. French sailors are better prepared for the long tides. They attach lightweight flip-up wheels to their dinghies that make land manoeuvres a breeze. Note taken.

Palais

A holiday isn’t a holiday without rubbing shoulders with the great unwashed. So, we boarded a bus and headed to town. While it may be true that long-term cruisers value their isolation and their ability to ‘get away’, occasionally walking in the shoes of the rest of humanity serves as a good reminder why boat life is worth its compromises. Like most of the harbour towns we’d visited in France, Palais was full of French folks. These aren’t the sorts of places that your average European heads towards. Inveterate caravanners and diehard explorers may seek out Paimpol or Roscoff, the rest fly out and lay, bloated, on beaches around the Med.

Fueling their fellow citoyens means restaurants provide good food at fair prices served at very specific hours of the day. Miss the noon seating and you may miss lunch: service finishes two hours later and doesn’t start again until 7:00PM.

Clear blue skies might be the norm for July and August, but dark streaks of mildew cascading down the whitewashed stucco indicated much wetter conditions during the rest of the year. Personally I like a bit of foul weather. Bundling up with a heavy wool scarf and braving the elements as far as the nearest pub with a roaring fire and cool pint of stout remains one of life’s great pleasures.

Zodiacs

Down at the harbour young folks in official-looking Zodiacs drove private yachts out of the main channel in anticipation of the afternoon ferry’s arrival. The crossing from Quiberon takes less than an hour and you can bring your car if you must. Although, I’m not sure why you would want to. The island has an excellent bus service and e-bikes are easily booked online. The harbour and the ferry fit together like peas and carrots. A large door high up on the side of the ferry opens directly onto the solid stone quayside. With the help of some modular ramps, cars drive off smoothly.

Soft Spot

Having stopped for a couple of nights in the busy and historic town of Concarneau prior to arriving in Belle-Île, our soft spot for Brittany deepened like memory foam (huh? – ed). With so much sailing to do and so many anchorages to explore, it is hard not to be reminded of Maine and New England. Sure the tourists crowd-in during the summer months, but we always found a spot to park Aleta, discovered a challenging hike, indulged in a good meal, and came back replenished. A person could live in a place like that. At least while the sun shines…

Photos: Belle-Île-en-Mer
Photos: Concarneau

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