Tomorrow is Saturday July 13th and because the weather is forecast to be foggy, the town has decided to hold its Bastille day celebrations 1 day early.
Today though, is about undoing some of the sleep deprivation we have put ourselves through over the past few days. We talk this through and come to the conclusion that it is the switch from shore sleep to passage making patten that is the bugger. We never get in the groove when we are at sea as the longest period is only 3/4 days. I’m wrecked but don’t sleep that well.
After a fitful doze, we are rested enough hit the town and a decent restaurant with a bottle of fine wine. Lobster is on the menu and is surprisingly affordable at only 14€ for half. We go for it and are rewarded with the best meal for weeks. Sadly this high point is not repeated as the restaurants are either full or closed for the remainder of our stay.
Saturday sees the town in full party mode with the mayor making a long speech in the town square to which the audience politely listens before then ploughing in to the mayors free wine and nibbles. For about an hour and a half I refill my beaker with red wine and canapés. I am feeling no pain by 2pm.
It’s a glorious sunny day as we walk round. I even manage to get a little sunburn. That’s a pretty rare thing around here. We walk the waterfront and commercial docks and see the harbour navigation buoys clearly for the first time. All looks straightforward in this light.
Our customs man said that there was live Irish music (sort of, the band were from St John’s) so we go to the venue at 9pm. It is pretty much deserted as the band limbers up. Once the tunes get going, a crowd comes in and the place is hopping….literally. Who knew the French were such keen set dancers. Then the penny drops and I recognise our Customs man as he joins the band for a few tunes. He is a really good whistle player. We get chatting and he is from Brittany where there is a big Celtic music scene.
There are fireworks scheduled half way through the set so the band breaks but after 30 mins, we abandon the town square to return to the pub. Only sparklers we see are those on the main stage.
We leave the pub about midnight and I am a little worse for wear. Now comes the challenge…..we have to paddle our micro 3 person dingy out to the boat in the dark. It’s not far but I am conscious that I have had a few so am really careful. A cold bath right now is a really bad idea.
Next morning comes around and we discover that nothing is open. It’s July 14th and a Sunday. The perfect storm for tourists. I wander the area for 6 hours hoping to find a place to sit and graze but nothing doing. Lots of strangely weathered wooden houses and peeling paint match the misty mood.
In my desperation for something to see or do in the mist, I take a walk out to see the airport which is empty except for two solitary lost souls and their baggage. It’s a small but very modern facility which boasts direct flights to Paris. Tomorrow is Monday and most restaurants are shut then too. Bugger.
We retreat to the boat with a pack of readymade galettes, cheese and butter sourced from the most expensive (but at least open) convenience store on the planet and raid the ships stores. F dons his chefs hat and makes us some tasty galettes.
Tomorrow we head for St John’s about 200 miles away.
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