Murielle wanted to go to the nearby beach to look for seashells. We took a dirt road that happened to have a sign for another dolmen. This is the shor (...)

Dad & I came out of the dolmen to find Murielle on the beach combing for shells. She had found quite a few. This beach does not go on forever for it e (...)

Back in Locmariaquer, Dad & Murielle went to check on the availability of cruises on the Golfe Du Morbihan. I nipped into this church. It was built in (...)

The lavishly decorated chapel on the right was added in the 16th century. The church has a solid look to it, almost as if they indended to defend it v (...)

This is the transept and choir. The bluish light is a diffraction effect through the windows. I did not bring a polarizing filter on this trip.

The church pillars are massive. It would take three people holding hands to encircle them. The pillar carving is 11th century while the statue was add (...)

A celtic cross adorns the church garden. The church could use a good gardener. Murielle drove us home via La Trinité-sur-Mer, a resort area for the u (...)

I slept in on Monday, only to find that it was raining lightly. Our first day of rain! Dad took off to do some shoping and to take care of a few thing (...)

The light was soft and even so I tried my luck on a white Rose. I like the way the petals fold over to shield the delicate heart of the flower.

In the backyard, I found this snail exploring the wall of the house.

Dad had told me that he had lizards living around the house. I felt that he was pulling my leg as I hadn't seen any. This morning, I saw one pop up ou (...)

Dad & I had a lunch of leftovers and vegetables from Murielle's garden. A siesta followed soon after because the ECL was coming later. She chased us o (...)

Patrice had been keen to meet me, despite Dad's comments on my dubious character. We got along right from the start. He wanted to show me around. I re (...)

The cemetary lies in a bay-like widening of the Blavet River. It is a tidal mud flat. It is easy to bring a boat in at high tide and let it sink into (...)

The tidal mud here is very deep and looks solid enough to walk on. It is a deceptive trap. In three steps the mud would have you in its grip. There is (...)

Another ancient wreck, mired in mud but bathed by the tides and washed by the fresh river waters.

Old machinery slowly disintegrating. It is a quiet place. There is a nicely groomed park with benches. Few tourists come here.

Sailing life goes on in this bend of the river. New boats anchor on the deep side, opposite the graveyard.

Patrice had a career as a commando in the French version of the Marines. He served in Chad, Gabon, and Lebanon - these are the places he is allowed to (...)

We walked around the port basin to the original docks. These have been abandoned in favour of the newer ports.