Auray - Surzur: My tent is my castle, or at least near a castle - Brittany - Loire Valley - Burgundy 2010

June 13, 2010

Auray - Surzur: My tent is my castle, or at least near a castle

Today is warm, it's not raining and eventually the sun comes out. First we ride down to the port, the center of the old town. We take our time and many pictures as we amble through the small cobbled streets. Hydrangea bushes frame the front doors of the old stone houses. I had been looking forward to Brittany's lush hydrangeas which blossom in various shades of purple, blue, pink and deep rose red, but they are just beginning to bloom. We are a few weeks too early. Have to come back in July.

We lock our bikes and take a walk around town.

A memorial plaque informs us that on December 4, 1776 Benjamin Franklin disembarked in Auray. He was sent to France by the USA to negotiate the first alliance between the two countries.

The dydrangeas will be lovely in a few weeks time.

Medieval wayside cross as we leave town.

The traffic is distracting and I find I'm not really enjoying the scenery on the way to Vannes. Vannes's old walled town is situated at the end of the long canalized port of Porte St. vincent. The city had the good fortune to suffer no damage in WWII. Inside the ramparts we push our bikes through the winding pedestrianized streets and past the many well-preserved old townhouses around the cathedral. Somehow nothing sparks my enthusiasm, probably not the fault of Vannes. It just feels hot and we are trudging through a town I know little about.

Many towns have public bike rentals, each with its own system.

The main gate into Vannes is the Porte St. Vincent

Outside the town walls to the east is the Château de l'Hermine, once the home of the Duke of Brittany.

The remainder of today's ride on quieter country roads through small villages is more enjoyable.

Approaching Theix we have a lovely little bike path.

We don't know when the next hotel or camping will turn up on our route and are surprised to see that there are three campgrounds and a pizzeria in the sleepy little town of Surzur. This is where we will stay.

Window in Surzur: I was disappointed that the curtain was drawn and the cat was no longer there when I rode by the next morning.

We follow the signs to the nearest campgrounds and after a few kilometers arrive at a lane leading to "Camping au Manoir".

Here we leave the road for our Camping au Manoir.

We feel we have entered an enchanted forest. Old trees line the approach to the campgrounds.

We pass through a gate and are surprised to see a nostalgic castle in the middle of an unkempt park - our campgrounds. It would seem this castle's heyday lies in the past. A little sign indicates the door to the reception where, after knocking several times, we are greeted by a large Dalmation. We enter a room crammed with stacks of newspapers and magazines and threadbare furniture. A path leads to the corner with a little coffee machine, near the door is an overladen desk with a tiny space cleared for use.

It takes a while for the Dalmation to rouse his owner, the lady of the manor. Her heyday also lies in the past. I notice she bears a strong resemblance to a beautiful young woman portrayed in an oil painting on the wall. With some effort I manage to communicate to her that we would like to camp here, "au manoir". Usually my French functions well, in this case the communication falters. Nevermind, we pay and she fills out a receipt on the tiny space on her desk reserved for just that purpose.

The grounds' atmosphere is evocative of times past. Park benches are rotting, flower beds are overgrown, trees that need pruning have gone wild, palm trees stand where you don't expect them. Some of the park has been mowed and we look for a level patch of ground to pitch our tent. The sanitary facilities also have a medieval feeling and I decide I don't need a shower tonight.

Interesting, not the old town of Vannes but this crumbling but otherwise not particularly noteworthy castle has stirred my imagination and revived my energy and enthusiasm.

The old castle is sadly in need of repair, most certainly due to lacking funds.

Surzur is indeed a very quiet little town on a Sunday and to our dismay the pizzeria is closed for summer holidays. We are now certain that our stomachs are going to be grumbling in our tent tonight. Circling around town, we come upon an elderly couple out for their evening stroll and ask if they can tell us where we can get a bite to eat. I must confess I was hoping they would invite us to dinner. They scratch their heads and aren't sure but think that the pizza truck stops in Surzur on Sunday evenings. We follow their directions and are overjoyed to see that they were right. Conveniently located next to the pizza vendor is a bus stop shelter which serves as our private little restaurant.

We are lucky - on Sunday evenings the pizza truck stops in Surzur.

Today's ride: 43 km (27 miles)
Total: 383 km (238 miles)

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