Tag Archives: Bretagne

En France, Chillin’ and Cookin’

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It seems amazing to me that its been a year since I’ve been in France…the gap has not been through choice! It’s just that Mrs Dookes and I have had so much going on in our lives that fitting in a holiday or some motorcycle touring hasn’t really been possible. The situation has frustrated us both, so a few weeks back we grabbed the nettle and booked a short trip to Brittany. Boring stuff can wait!

The nice thing about Brittany, for us, is the lovely friends that we have made here over the years; that started way back when Mrs D was an au pair, long before she met Dookes!!

We caught the overnight ferry to Roscoff and on the spur of the moment decided to drive 200 miles to visit our friend Anne and her vineyard. Yeah I know, crazy, but Anne’s wines are simply heavenly!

Located near Ancenis, in the Val de Loire, the vineyard is a bot of a mix of a traditional Muscadet producer and then something quite exceptional. Anne’s family are very connected to their land, they should be they’ve been there since 1635! As such, they can “read” what the vines are telling them and then react by producing limited “cuvees” of incredible complexity and variation; it’s very true that you have to grab them quickly!

In 2021 the produced Cuvee L’Inedite that was a heady golden wine with just the right balance of acidity and sweetness caused by early frosts as the grapes still hung on the vine. Sadly this has all now gone, but it was wonderful whilst it lasted!

2022 offered different conditions and the result was Fine Fleur, straw coloured, lightly floral on the nose, with hints of honey and again flowers in the mouth. Anne and the team at Domaine des Génaudièrs have done it again, another masterpiece!

Needless to say, the Dookesmobile was pretty quickly loaded up with an adequate amount of the heavenly harvest!!

Our next stop was with our friend Christophe and his delightful house in the middle of the Borcéliande Forest for some much needed peace and quiet. It’s only 150 miles away from Anne’s place, though sort of heading back on ourselves!

Chez Christophe

Borcéliande is a place of legend. An enchanted forest that held sway in the imagination as a place of magic and mystery. It features in the legend of King Arthur, as the home of Morgan le Fay and her Vale of no Return, whilst local Breton legends talk of a forest of fairies and whichcraft..

To me it is a place of serenity, stillness and peace. Somewhere to go to unwind, recharge and start anew; possibly its my Celtic roots that embeds me into Brocéliande, I just feel at home here.

Brocéliande from the beadroom window!

There’s no rest for Dookes yet though. After a day of socialising and driving, I have to cook!

OK, it’s not a big deal, in fact one of my passions is cooking in France as I’m sure I have recounted in the past. I blame my sadly departed mate Floyd for planting the seed, I’m sure he will be looking down on me quietly amused as how it grew!

I have a wonderful old French cookbook “Des Meilleurs Petits Plats Français” that I frequently turn to when in need of a bit of culinary inspiration and as i had just bought a rather nice hunk of Monkfish, Lotte in French, the book was consulted.

Monkfish, off the bone.

Bourride de Lotte et Coquilles avec aioli was the end result, and not at all bad if i say so myself!

This was, naturally, accompanied with a fine white wine, a Touraine from near Angers on the left bank of the Loire.

Here’s to Mrs Dookes my companion on life’s crazy ride!
And here’s to you too Floyd, I still miss you..

Catch you soon,
Dookes

Playing on the Tracks

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It’s a chilly late October afternoon, the temperature has struggled up to 9° Celsius and the sun refuses to burn through the grey covering cloud. Black feathered Rooks are calling from the high trees around the old railway station. The air is still.

This is Autumn in Brittany.

Jean-Claude and his mates are playing Breton Bowls on the ground where the old railway lines once lay. They gather here most Fridays to play their game share a meal in a local café and generally enjoy each other’s company. The cackle of their laughter competes with the cries of the black birds above them, whilst the clunk of metal bowling balls punctuates their conversation.

Boules Bretagne on the old railway.

Boules Bretagne on the old railway.

“Hey, Gallois come and have a go!” Jean-Caude implores. “Leave the ghosts of the old railway alone.”

The old station fascinates me.
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Mur de Bretagne saw its last train steam out towards Carhaix nearly fifty years ago when the metre gauge Réseau Breton railway system closed down. I only wish I could have enjoyed it before it vanished forever. The network linked many rural communities and it’s closure pushed many small towns into a kind of time warp that they only really came out of after the turn of the 2000’s. Today around Brittany most of the old station buildings remain, the French can’t see the point of demolishing perfectly good structures when alternative uses can be found.

Mur de Bretagne Station in 1910.

Mur de Bretagne Station in 1910.

At Mur the station now serves a local cycling club, the fire brigade and of course the Breton Bowling club, talk about diversification!

I smile.
“Un petit moment, Jean-Claude, je besoin explorer le vielle station.” – “In a minute Jean-Claude, I must explore the old station.”

My friend shrugs his shoulders, he understands my interest in the history of the old railway, but to him it’s just that, history.

He can remember the station when it was open and he stood here the day that the last train departed. To him it’s gone and no end of interest from me will ever bring it back… The bowling is what matters now.

I get it, but my curiosity and passion for old railways wins out.

The station is a wonderful mix of good repair and partial decrepitude. On the side where trains once ran the building is in good repair and well-tended, whilst at the rear there is evidence of slightly less love being endowed on it and that makes it more interesting. It’s just crying out for some monochrome photography.p1070925

In my mind’s eye I can see the busy bustle of the place when it was still served by the Réseau Breton. At least it still lives on serving the local community in other ways. p1070924

I marvel that the old enamel name board still proclaims the town on the gable end. Back in the UK that would have disappeared to a collectors wall years ago!p1070920

The game is progressing and I’ve missed out the chance of looking silly by joining in. Maybe the old station saved me from gentle embarrassment!p1070922

J-C looks at me and winks, he’s winning at the moment!

There’s a strong coffee with a splash of Lambig, the local calvados type firewater, waiting at the end of this game. Then there will be Poitrine Fumé, Haricot Blanc avec ail and tarte-tatin to follow, all washed down with a local rough wine, my kind of heaven!

There’s a hint of wood smoke in the cool air, the clear clean air of Brittany and just at the moment there is nowhere else in the world that I’d rather be.

Catch you later – À bientôt!

Dookes