One sometimes wonders if the effort required to travel is amply rewarded by the pleasures of the destination. 18 hours into the 22 hour journey from Atlanta to St. Briac sur Mer, Brittany, the answer was looking shaky. Flight delays going out of Atlanta led to rushed terminal changes at Newark, which were nothing compared to complete disorientation upon arrival in Manchester, UK, followed by yet another flight delay. The arrival in Rennes marked a turning point, with no problems with the rental car, and a short hour's drive later, we were pulling up to Les Essarts in St. Briac sur Mer.
We were greeted by Sofie, the property's house dog. She had her suspicions about our character but let us enter, where we found everyone out to lunch at the Perette's. Unfazed, we toured the house and, plagued by fatigue, selected a bedroom on our own with a view overlooking the sea. After a brief rest, we started to feel the magic of this beautiful house and the lulling sound of the waves crashing outside our window called us to the water. Jacques promised that the water was cold but that you didn't notice once you were in, so we suited up and followed him along a wandering path overlooking the sea down to a beautiful horseshoe shaped beach.
The water was indeed brisk but nothing compared to Averill in the fall. Plus it was salt water and there were waves to play in and we were soon all soaked. The last of the travel fatigue slipped from our pores as we leaped and jumped in the sea.
Blogspot isn't uploading photos for some reason but you can find some on flickr.
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