August 2, 2019
Sunny ride to Brest
It was a lovely day today, but there really isn’t much to say about todays ride. I went up. I went down. Much of the time I was on a fairly busy main road, but the traffic was mostly in the direction opposite with cars and motor homes of all sorts on their way to a music festival in Crozon. In retrospect, I’m glad to have escaped the madness. There was really no place to stop until I was off the Crozon peninsula.
Once away from the bridge, I got on the back roads and was much more relaxed. I stopped in Faou for a coffee. The bar where I stopped looked out on a small estuary, which was just mud the tide being out. The rather somber aspect of the river matched the demeanor of the woman behind the bar who neither spoke nor smiled while I drank my coffee and studied my map. Perhaps this was because le Faou is a touristy village and her bar is on the wrong side of the river to catch any of the motor trade. This was fine with me, as I am growing increasingly averse to cars. Leaving the bar, I was on a quiet coast road until I got to Daolas. As I entered the village the church bells were sounding the angelus, and my stomach reminded me that it was indeed noon. To my delight I found a restaurant that was not a creperie, meaning that I could eat something more « normal » for lunch. The menu was typical « bistro », with a buffet of entrées a choice of a main dish (I had sautéed veal) and a buffet of desserts (chocolate mousse). The whole, with coffee came to 14 euros. And while the food was good, but ordinary, the owner was not. He appeared to be drunk, and rattled on about the cycling jersey I was wearing. The jersey was a souvenir of the col de Iseran, which I had climbed a couple of years ago. But he was harmless, and if drunk a good-natured drunk, and so much the better.
From Daolas there were a few more ups and downs and then the signs appeared for a vélo route into Brest. Following those, I was taken across the old bridge into Brest, now paralleled by a new construction for motor traffic and open only to foot traffic and bikes. I of course got lost in Brest trying to find the center on quiet streets, and probably did a lot more climbing than was strictly necessary. Once at my hotel, I showered and fell asleep.
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Awakening, I got my dirty laundryman from ther last few days and walked up the street to a laundromat. Clean clothes in my room, it was time to visit Brest a little. I had been to the museum last year, so I headed straight for the harbor where a bar I had visited before would draw me a pint of real Breton beer. The beer dispatched, I made my way back tot the hotel stopping on the way for a light supper of burger and fries at a local establishment.
Today's ride: 78 km (48 miles)
Total: 274 km (170 miles)
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