GREAT BRITTANY!
Nothing quite compares to this part of France for a family break, says
There aren’t many parts of the world where you can cram an alligator feeding frenzy, a dozen oysters and a UNeSCO world heritage site into the same afternoon. But then I’d never been on a seaside holiday with quite as many alternatives to a bucket and spade as a week in Brittany. No bad thing, it turns out, if the weather is not in your favour.
I’d always liked the idea of camping in France, but my wife had grave reservations about me putting up a tent. So the compromise was Brittany’s Camping Le P’tit Bois, a holiday park at Saint-Jouan des Guerets just outside St Malo. here we had a mobile home ‘cottage’ with three double rooms, bathroom and kitchen/ diner — all a two-minute walk from indoor and outdoor pools.
Brittany is an enormous chunk of France and an astonishingly beautiful one, too, looking out on both the Channel — where we were — and the Atlantic.
Because of its rugged shores and inlets, Brittany accounts for a third of France’s coastline — nearly 2,000 miles of seaside. And Brittany Ferries drops you right there via five routes.
When it’s sunny, the only problem is choosing which tract of uncrowded sand to head for. Turn up in the wet — as we did — and Britanny is extremely well-equipped for rainy days.
So, when one beach picnic was curtailed by the weather, we adjourned to Saint-Cast Aventure, a forest full of zip-wires for every age and aptitude, and spent an entire afternoon there.
On another day, we arrived in Cancale, which regards itself as the oyster capital of France. When you’ve finished scoffing, there are boat trips to see the dolphins out in the bay.
But if it’s not the day for the open sea — and it wasn’t — then view the sea life at the Great Aquarium in St Malo. It’s a proper big one — with proper sharks.
St Malo itself is a fortified delight straight out of a Napoleonic film set and full of places to enjoy the Breton staple diet — crepes and galettes (buckwheat pancakes) with cider. For something more substantial — indeed, the best meal of our whole trip — drive a few miles along the estuary to the impossibly pretty fishing village of Saint-Suliac and get a table at La Ferme du Bouncaier.
Further inland, we spent a day riding bikes along the Ile-etrance Canal. There’s a lovely, family-run base at La Petite Madeleine in the village of hedeBazouges. They provide bikes, trailers, picnics and overnight stays in luxury ‘Toues Cabanees’ — traditional houseboats. We went for miles along the towpath without seeing a soul.
Another wet weather option is the Chateau La Bourbonsais, still run by the same dynasty who built it before the revolution.
After a delightful guided tour of the big house with the son and heir, we explored the grounds, which include a large collection of bouncy castles and a very respectable zoo. Phoebe, aged seven, was pleased as punch when she roared at a lion and it roared back.
But nothing is quite as incongruous as finding an alligator sanctuary next to one of europe’s most famous landmarks. I wanted to walk up Mont St-Michel, the fairytale monastery-fortress which dominates this coast. My children wanted to see Alligator Bay, a vast tropical glasshouse full of reptiles. We did both.
An hour after watching the monsters fighting over chicken carcasses, we were panting our way up the 900 steps to one of the most magical abbeys in Christendom. It’s a steep walk but enchanting at the top.
And what do my children remember most from our day there?
The gust of wind which blew off Dad’s favourite hat and sent it cartwheeling across the mudflats. One day, preferably a sunnier one, I’ll be back to look for it.