Sometimes savoury, sometimes sweet - northern Brittany is a real treat, and not just in nautical terms: At the end of a long day's cruising, when things calm down in the harbour, culinary delights beckon ashore. Part 1/4: from Saint-Malo westwards via Saint-Cast bist to Paimpol.
From Saint-Malo westwards, the north coast of Brittany begins, the land of oysters, crabs, crêperies and countless excellent restaurants. If France prides itself on its seafood cuisine, Brittany sees itself as its centre. This also has something to do with the region's special self-image, its independence. The Celtic cultural area, which stretches in a wide arc along the Atlantic, from Scotland via Ireland, Cornwall and Brittany to Galicia, is in many ways closer to Brittany than Paris, even today. The special heritage is evident in small and large ways.
From the tide to the blackboard
For example in the Celtic name and the striking appearance of its flag: Gwenn ha Du, white and black. It likes to contest the best places with the French tricolour. Or, to stick with striped fabric, in the traditional clothing of its sailors. However, the strong connection to the sea is particularly evident in the culinary world. The journey from the fishermen's deck to the table is never very far. Variety and perfection know almost no bounds. They are the pride and joy of Brittany. There is hardly any other place where it is worth going out to eat so often, especially if seafood and fish are favoured. The wine lists are stocked with high-quality wines, which are offered at reasonable prices even in restaurants, where of course only French wines are served. Quoi d'autre? A Muscadet sur lie is often chosen to accompany the fruits of the sea from the nearby Loire.
About Saint-Cast and Saint-Quay-Portrieux...
As the exit from Saint-Malo is tide-limited, it makes sense to choose a harbour that can be called at at any tide - such as Port Jacquet in Saint-Cast, which is not far away. A short walk along the promenade built on the rocks to the beach and the town? Or you can stop off at the harbour's fish restaurant, where freshly caught seafood is on display at the entrance. After Saint-Cast, you can make a stop in Saint-Quay-Portrieux, which is also always open for calls. The mega harbour with over 1,000 berths is a good starting point for calling at historic Paimpol not far to the north if the tide is high enough. Unfortunately, this remains closed to many ships at Nipptide, as they have to sail over land that is up to seven metres dry on the approach.
...into the sheltered harbour of Paimpol
Even the locals are very careful here when the tide rises, travelling through the channel that stretches over a nautical mile. When the harbour office asks how dry the shallowest part is, the answer is typically French and relaxed: "Normalement, pas de problème - two hours before or after high tide." But what does "normalement" mean? And what about draught or neap tide? Here you have to trust your own calculations and measurements and, if in doubt, try it when the tide is rising. Our own measurements of -4.5 metres halfway and -5.5 metres directly in front of the lock are now at least noted in the logbook for the next visit. The 60 metre long and 12 metre wide lock, which leads to the two sheltered harbour basins, is packed to the last square metre with sailing boats. Nothing upsets the French here: "Pas de problème!"
The Icelandic fishermen of Paimpol
We help each other, chat a little, until the reward behind the open lock gate is not long in coming: The historic harbour of Paimpol, with its old, traditional stone houses and wide quay walls, bears witness to the great days of yore, when this was still the Cité des Islandais, the city of Icelandic fishing. Countless bars, bistros and restaurants were the meeting place of the great Breton sailors and fishermen who sailed far up to Iceland every year at the end of January to catch cod and whales throughout the summer. Every year in August, the Fête des vieux gréements organises a gathering of classic sailing ships. Paimpol's fishing fleet once numbered 80 schooners, each with a crew of 25. Many of them never returned. Between 1852 and 1935, no fewer than 2,000 young men and 83 sailors remained on the seabed around Iceland. The story of their hard work is told by Pierre Loti in his novel "Pêcheur d'Islande", which is about the love of the sea, a Breton woman from Paimpol and an Icelandic fisherman.
Read also:
Leon Schulz
Freier Mitarbeiter
