The day started with a drive to Douarnenez and then on to Quimper. Michael remains steadfast and strong in his ability to propel us ever onward while supported by my mostly competent navigational skills. That first night in the dark was harrowing; but daylight and an appreciation for the fact that French Google is often ever so slightly behind our actual position has smoothed out the process.
Continuing with this theme of reminiscing back on the travels of our youth, we regaled each other with tales of our skill and our conquests from the days of large AAA paper maps to our first Garmin and then Google maps (which is still dependent on cellular connectivity). We fondly (in retrospect) remembered:
Phuket in the late 80’s getting lost at night and nearly running out of gas. And Bali on a whim when we landed with no reservations.
Athens in the 90’s getting out of Athens and to Delphi and around to Volos (was there snow at the top of the peak?) up to Makrinitsa and then back to Athens.
Rome (Jesus Christ!) to Tuscany to Venice to Cuomo to Verona. Possiamo parcheggiare la macchina qui? (That one is firmly embedded)
The Yucatán, Chile, Namibia and that time we lost connectivity leaving Madaba, Jordan and just kept the sun over our right shoulder at any intersection and rolled right into Petra as planned,
Of course, the fates will always knock you down when you start to feel too cocky. Enter Quimper with the direct response from the Airbnb “concierge” that there is parking next to the unit. But after four circuits around and around, messages back and forth (Airbnb app translates and neither of us are bilingual) awkward fruitless conversations with friendly folks on the streets and finally a call to the Quimper Tourist Office we realize that the old town is pedestrian only and that’s where our apartment is. And that the closest free parking lot is the one we have passed five times already.
But here we are safe and unscathed. We had a lovely stroll along these beautiful streets with lovely flowers everywhere. And then went specifically in search of a Creperie which was very fortunate in as much as our little street boasts one every 20 ft or so! I had Serrano ham and cheese and Michael had foie gras. Yummy. Only three tables on the ground floor. So we made a party of it chatting with the French couple from Avignon with their little Yorkie and the French Canadians who live in New York. The latter husband asked us if we found, as he apparently does, that driving in Brittany is quite difficult.What?
Tres fou. Or as the kids apparently say, tres ouf. Driving here is a piece of Breton cake!
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