As the sun was slowly starting to descend, we decided to take a walk right to the very edge of town where land stopped and water began. This was glorious. We walked for about two hours, taking in the last rays of a gorgeous day, salty wind rushing past us and sticking to our tongues and lots of hand holding. Once we reached the furthest tip, we saw the scatter of islands in the distance which, I didn’t believe at all at the time, are reachable when the tide is at its lowest and the beach is exposed, giving way to access.
(On the left is high tide and the right is low tide – would you ever believe you could cross the sea?!?!)
Using the handy chart located at the steps that descend into the sea, we (i.e. Louis) calculated that the best time to go would be the following day at 12.30pm. As we walked back, we were awestruck by the immense houses and the fact that a little Breton man was playing his bagpipes in the open air just 50 metres away from us. The air was so serene and calm, life was pretty darn good in that moment.
One of the idyllic islands we came across as we crossed low tide – and suddenly the sun came out at just the right moment!
Dinner that night was pizza from a local pizzeria, not a lot of great things to say about that but we didn’t mind. Saturday morning we rose early to check out the market at Dinard and it was insanely packed with market-goers. After the road-rage of trying to find a parking space, we bought a ton of seafood, fruits, vegetables, cheese and bread. French cuisine really does have it all sometimes. That afternoon was relaxed with no real agenda – as much as we wanted to sight-see, we also wanted to do absolutely nothing. Back at the house we chilled out on the beach with some beers and in the evening cooked up king prawns, langoustines, potatoes and a big salad. Divine.
Sunday was our final day. Last days almost don’t count as holiday time because you have 1000 things to clean and tidy up. Almost. After we swept, scrubbed and drove out of our petite maison, we made a little detour on the drive back – to Mont St Michel! How exciting, it was basically two holidays in one!! From Saint-Jact-de-la-Mer, it took us exactly one hour to drive up to the enoooormous car park at the Mont. From there, we hopped on a free shuttle bus that operates 24/7 for visitors and got to take a look around.
Arriving at 5.30pm, the tide was still out when we made our entrance into the Mont (literally ‘mount’.) The site is basically the tiniest village ever, not even village – hill! And people live there! Did you know the Mont has like 54 official residents? Crazy I know, but it’s obvious where the attraction comes from. The place was full of charm, as you make your way through the main ‘street’, you see restaurants and gift shops lining the way. We were just out of time to visit the Abbey because it closed at 6pm which we were pretty gutted about (also, if the Mont itself is open 24/7, surely the Abbey should be too!) but we saw some beautiful views from as top as we could get!
We grabbed something to eat and made our way back to the car for another 4-hour drive back home. It’s times like these when I’m glad I don’t have a driving license 😉 So, verdict? One of the best weekend breaks! I’ve been craving for such a long time to explore more of France because there really is so much more to see than Paris, as fabulous as it is. I’m hoping I can take another long weekend again this summer, fingers crossed my boss says yes!