Oui are the champignons

One last swim the English Channel (or as the French say, La Manche) to soothe my blisters for our limp through the last day’s 13 miles to our finish in Lannion. We totaled 82 miles in six days and it took a toll on our soles. (Next time: twice as many days and half as many miles each day and/or layover days to explore the rural towns and swim more.) Thanks to our adventurous friends E&C who not only made the trip extra special but spoiled me with French amuse-bouche and a cheese course steered to the table on a cart. Un-brie-lievable! Special thanks to Arlo who led the way in our Tour de France (and Germany). He’s the crème brûlée of the crop. And thanks to you for coasting along with us.

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Knead to know

The Mosel River in Germany offered wine in vending machines and in France we’ve stumbled upon automats with pizza, baguettes, and even kayaks. Something I won’t baguette about are the little free sand toy boxes for borrowing and returning beach toys.

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Rock on

Pink granite formations, chateaus, islands, and lighthouses rocked our walk and this popular section of the trail set in stone made us feel boulder.

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Harbor hopping

Our luggage hops from harbor town to harbor town by taxi while we hoof it. We enjoy rooms with views each night, though usually we’ve floated off to sleep before the 10:30 sunset.

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Toe-tally awesome

Our coastal path takes us along beaches, across beaches, on shady tree-lined sections, past fields of artichokes, and through tiny hydrangea-filled hamlets. We follow the red-and-white trail markers to stay on track. After our 15 miles the first day, the 14 miles on day two toughened us, blisters and all. 

Mussel memory

All over Normandy and Brittany the locals ravenously slurp up pots of steamed mussels (moules). Served in a big steaming pot, you use the lid for the empty shells. To look like a pro, you pull the orange meat of the first mussel out with your fingers and then use that empty shell as your pincers to pull the meat from the next 99 shells. They eat a lot. I assume the sauce is the main attraction because, well, it’s France. The sauce choices include Camembert, crème, Roquefort, or mariniere (white wine and shallots). Always served with French fries (frites), apparently due to the original Belgian tradition. My only explanation: like escargot, they are easy to catch.

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Tickled pink

About 18 years ago, on a trip to a small town in Brittany with friends, I learned about the long-distance coastal path, the GR34, or “the G” to those in the know. And now here we are on an 8-day walk with those very friends along a section of the path known as the pink granite coast. Blissful rain and a 15-mile day didn’t dampen our spirits one bit.

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Shore thing

With temps still hot we stayed close to the shoreline and headed to northern Normandy where we found small fishing villages and white chalk cliffs (same geologically as the White Cliffs of Dover). We bid our friends au revoir as they head further north and we head south to Brittany. One day our paths will croissant again.

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Goal-den

We kicked it up a notch and joined the watch party at a bar for the French World Cup match. Everyone sang the national anthem and jumped up to scream for their goal models. Pitch perfect!

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À la Normandy

The Four Cs of Normandy include Camembert, cider, Calvados (apple brandy liqueur), and crème (cream sauces or crème brûlée). When we see “à la Normandy” on a menu we know it will be bathed in butter and cream. I understand my mission.

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Storming the coast

With temperatures soaring we took to e-bikes in search of cooler coastal weather. We rode along the Gold and Juno D-Day beaches and took a swim in the English Channel but, even with that break, by the afternoon we all suffered from heat exhaustion and collapsed on the side of the road feeling the burn.

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Normandy invasion

We started our tour of the D-Day beaches and monuments at the center for history and peace in Caen and moved on to the American cemetery at Omaha Beach with 9000 marble headstones. The sculptured trees made me think of paratrooper parachutes. Our peaceful walk on Omaha Beach was such a stark contrast to the horrific deaths that happened there.

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