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Ever so peaceful here beside the apple trees. Before leaving we buy a couple more bottles of cidre as we enjoyed it so much last night
Then it's a twenty minute drive, crossing the big bridge with Morlaix to the south, and around to St Pol de Leon. We stopped here in April but it was quite cold and we felt it would be worth returning on a warmer day.
At the aire we have the same end-bay as before, looking across the dried out estuary. The walk into town is easy and nothing looks any different apart from some added colour of the flower-boxes and postcard stands.
The cathedral is open so we have a look inside. It isn't unusual for places of worship to seem less than welcoming to casual visitors, either there's an entrance fee or plenty of 'thou shalt not' notices, but St Pol is different. The doors are wide open and on entering there is the background sound of recorded organ music alternated with choir singing. Small notices, in 3 languages, describe points of interest; the rose window, the chapels, statues and tombs. The stained glass is of the highest quality, colourful, illuminated and beautifully styled scenes. The stonework is high class but simple in design. The woodcarving is old and unpolished and there is no glittering bling to challenge your conscience The small chapels, locked shrines in some big cathedrals, are obviouls used in this one. The atmosphere, although a bit musty in smell, is welcoming, reverend and peaceful.
Back outside we look for a light lunch, like a crepe, but it's 14:30 and everywhere is stopping service. Eventually we find a sandwich which is fine, then head back to the waterfront, although when we get there the water is still not in sight.
We go out along the causeway car park to the little [former] island. The few trees on the island and the old fortress walls are a welcome screen from the cool wind. From here we get a rare sight of three ferries at Roscoff; Armorique alongside until she sails at 16:30, Pont Aven lying at anchor and Oscar Wilde coming in to replace Armorique at the jetty.
The cooling wind changes our minds about staying out for a meal, just as the cold in April did, so we return to the van. About ten minutes after we are in and settled rain starts and the island disappears behind a grey curtain. By now the tide is right in and as the showers abate and the sunshine returns, the water which was previously rippled with cats-paws has settled to an oily calm.
Too late to bother now looking for a restaurant, We unfreeze [from the now perfectly working fridge]the remainder of the other night's ragu and make cottage pie.
After the earlier squall it is a beautiful evening.
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