Now what? Is this a fork in the boulder field or a dead end. Neither, the trail continues to the right. But first, you must enter a mysterious opening (...)

Size matters in this place. One feels like a Hobbit.

The river re-emerges at this point to tumble down through more jumbled rocks.

This is the only spot where you have to bend over to get through. I would venture that natural sites such as this one would have inspired the Neolithi (...)

One emerges from the rock jumble onto this sight. It is the deep valley through which the Argent Rivers dances into the enchanted forest. The people w (...)

The gorge below the rock chaos seems rather primeval to my eyes. I half expected a Triceratops to wander into the image and feed on the giant ferns be (...)

Dad is standing at the top of the steep iron ladder that leads to the grotto. Murielle climbed down but when the path led into the dark cavern she got (...)

The upper trail twists back upon itself. I was surprised to encounter an Ent, a guardian of the forest. As I passed by, I patted the trunk and said to (...)

This is close to the end of the trail and the edge of Huelgoat, yet only this magical place is in view. It is quite striking. Human voices echo throug (...)

We made it out and gratefully collapsed into the nearest bistro/creperie. A café, a shot of whiskey and a nearby washroom is quite restorative, you k (...)

Sunday, 9/23/12 - I slept fairly well despite the back. It was stil sore but improving. The last part of my holiday would be rainy thanks to the Equin (...)

We drove to Douarnanez via Quimper and it rained all the way. I wanted to stop at the ship museum there. Dad had become grumpy. He began to argue with (...)

Dad & Murielle were still arguing about the best way to go about visiting the place. I slipped into this side road and faded into the Breton mist. At (...)

The medieval church is the focus of the town, sitting at one end of the town square. To my uneducated eyes, it looked like two churches stitched toget (...)

Welcome to Locronan, the town built entirely of granite stone. There are no wooden buildings. This is a heritage site now. It is a prime example of a (...)

This is the view of the main street leading into Locronan from the parking lots in the far distance. The even light was fantastic. This exquisite vill (...)

I entered on the right side of the church to find myself face-to-stone with Saint-Ronan. The Dukes of Brittany donated generously for the building of (...)

Saint-Ronan's eternal view. The Locronan pardons, or pilgrimages, count among the most important in Brittany. They even have their own name, Troménie (...)

Once again, the camera came through in this dimly lit church. Film-makers have frequently shown Locronan’s charms on the silver screen, and tourists (...)

Thanks to the largesse of the Dukes of Brittany, the church has lots of sculptures to inspire the faithful.