A fleeting visit we know, but we have to catch a ferry to England tomorrow.

Today, Mick and I left Cancale in Bretagne in the rain, and stopped in the small town of Dol-de-Bretagne for breakfast. I had seen some images on Google that showed the town had quite a few half-timbered houses featured in its centre ville, and I love those buildings.

We found a space for our car in a Blue Zone – so I parked and wrote the time we arrived on a piece of paper and displayed it on the dashboard. The locals have a special disk that allows them to display their arrival time, but we have been told the method I used is OK. And, so far so good.

We spotted a boulangerie up the main street (La Grande Rue des Stuarts) and noticed that unusually, it also served coffee. So Mick and I went in and began to order. The lady then explained there was no toilet – which was fine for us, but she insisted we keep walking up the street to a different shop.

As we were leaving, she explained that her husband owns the restaurant and that we must say hello to him from her. I’m unsure if the owner of the boulangerie would have been too pleased with her sending some paying customers away.

Anyway, we found the café, and although the gentleman was very nice, and the other customers were happy to chat with us as we ordered our breakfast, it was the worst coffee we have had in France. C’est la vie!!

We passed this statue in the main street – it was of Victor Hugo. Later I found out that he had written a book, called Ninety-Three, about the French Revolution set in Dol-de-Bretagne. I guess that is why it was there as there was no information about it – not even in French.

Not too far from Victor’s statue, was a plaque claiming that Dol-de-Bretagne is where the House of Stewarts originated. (Now the name of the street made sense – La Grande Rue des Stuarts). It looked like a long and complicated connection, but nevertheless, the little town is happy to claim this as a fact, dating back to 1371.

As we headed to our car, we passed this stunning shop, beautifully decorated with everything “Christmassy”.

And, if we were having Christmas here, and if I had $1000AUD to throw away, I’d buy this topiary tree for €600.

Our final stop was Flers, and here we had lunch at the hotel we are staying in. It was quite fancy and very nice. We were able to check in early which was a bonus as it had rained most of the day.

After lunch we did venture out for a walk around the town and of course the central feature was the church. Funnily enough though, it was locked. The church was located in a huge square (unusual in French towns), surrounded by relatively new, similarly-constructed, buildings, which suggested to me and Mick that the town had been badly damaged during WWII. I read later that Flers had been bombed on 6th and 7th June 1944, and 80% of the town was destroyed. The city was liberated by the British on 16th August 1944.

During our travels through the small villages this week, we have been stopped, or had to take detours around certain streets, because the council workers were installing the Christmas decorations. It is a very big thing here in France. And when I say big, it does not only refer to the importance placed on the festive lighting.

 Now in Normandy, and not on the ocean, Mick had to choose something else for dinner. And we didn’t have to go too far. We walked across the road to a bar we had spotted at lunch time that was filled with hungry clients enjoying what was on offer.

But when we arrived we noticed the owner was setting up for a party – perhaps he knew it was mine and Mick’s last night in France.

Regardless, Mick and I joined in and tried a bottle of the Nouveau Beaujolais, and enjoyed the free nibblies and the live music with all the locals in Flers.

Apparently it was Nouveau Beaujolais Day – a festival in honour of the release of the wine – and not our farewell party after all.

A great night was had by all.