Back to Brittany

So finally after a pause of two and a half years I made it back to Brittany. It’s a place that is very dear to me. It’s like Cornwall but bigger and quieter. A decade ago, if you had told me that my regular jaunts across the Channel in Klaus the Knaus would be curtailed by a worldwide pandemic I’d have never believed you. Since my twenties travel has been intrinsic to who I am.

It’s was our first trip to post Brexit Europe. So what is different? Not a lot really. But passports now get stamped, there’s new UK stickers on the van and weird rules about food stuff. The laws are puzzling, no meat, dairy or most fruit and veg but you can bring in durian, that famed smelly Asian fruit. There seems to be grey areas around things containing dairy products but I read somewhere that confectionery was okay. So I chanced leaving our tub of hot chocolate in the food cupboard. Hot Stuff joked that we should perhaps hide it in the water compartment but I pooh-poohed that idea. After all if we happened to be searched and customs officer found it I think that we’d have been in danger of having the motorhome taken apart!

On the ferry from Plymouth to Roscoff not much was different, except sob! There is no longer the massive buffet, heavy on puddings and seafood, in the Pont Aven’s restaurant. Hopefully when Covid subsides a bit more it will be back. The crossing back to Brittany is familiar to me. I’ve made it so many times on Brittany Ferries’ ships. Our voyage was in the day this time but I remember fondly being woken up to this beautiful Breton music when we arrived on the Amorique overnight. I wonder if they still play it. Maybe with retirement looming I’ll never know. With less restrictions on travel times we’ll be taking the cheaper weekday morning crossings in the future!

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