3 Days in Brittany.
 

Thursday.
I worked thru my lunch today so as I could finish an hour early as
Im going to Brittany tonight for 3 days and my ferry leaves Plymouth at 11pm.
My bike has been loaded up since last night, roll bag with camping gear, throw over panniers with clothes and tail pack with cooking gear and food.
As usual the tank bag holds tools, multimeter etc.
It takes me a lot longer than expected to have my dinner, shower and pack the last of my stuff before Im finally ready to go, maybe its because we have a 3 month old little boy now and I havent been away from him since the day he was born.
I booked the ferry on a whim one night and now Im having second thoughts, Im wondering should I have left it till he was older?
My better half reassures me that both they and Ill be fine once I get going, and anyway, tommorow, herself and the little man are going away for 3 days with her mum, its a tradition that they holliday together this weekend every year for the last few years.
So theres no point in me staying home, Ill be on my own!
I say goodbye and start the bike, its running sweet, I just serviced it last weekend and gave it a good once over just to make sure all was good.
The motorway is pretty busy and soon enough it starts to drizzle.
The ride down is pretty uneventfull and I decide to fill up in Plymouth so as to have no delays in France when the ferry docks.
I ask they cashier how far the ferry is "2 miles" she says, only to be contradicted by a fellow cashier who says "no its not, its 3 miles, dont mind what she says" I've obviously interupted an argument and I decide that the truth is probably 2 and half miles!
Im heading twords the ferry when Im redirected by a diversion, within minutes Im lost and have to stop to ask a local for directions.
He sets me on the right path and soon Im at ferry checkin.
"Your lucky.....this is the only ferry going to France from the UK tonight because of the strike" says the lady behind the desk. "Oh thank God" I say, even though i had no idea there was a strike!
Sometimes my whole life seems to revolve around ferries/airports, We've only just got back from Ireland a couple of weeks ago, used the ferry then aswell, Stena line.
I line up with several other bikes, a Goldwing, Hayabusa, 2 Gsxr1000's, an old Gsx650, Gtr1400, and of course 3 R1200gsa's all decked out with hard luggage, sat navs, intercoms, full BMW riding gear, you name it they had it.
I was sure they were headed for an epic trans Africa/RTW/Round Europe trip and was eager to hear their story but when I asked them they said they were just on a weekend guided tour of Brittany, hotels etc included.
I was gobsmacked, they were sitting on about £15k of equipment each and were paying someone else to guide them around!
But then I started thinking, maybe Im the one thats got it wrong, I could quite possibly end up spending 3 days chasing my tail around northern France on my 650 V -Strom with michelin map, seeing nothing but roads and service stations and missing all the good stuff simply because i dont know its there, and I suppose thats where the tour guide would come in handy.
Either ways its too late now, and even if I wanted a guided tour theres no way I could afford it.
We get the all clear to ride onto the ferry and I park up and strap the bike down to the floor anchor points.
I have a reclining seat booked and make my way to that part of the ship.
The ship is only 1 and a half years old and looks really clean and modern inside with a large bar, restaraunt, 2 cinemas, showers and numerous seats. Im dissapointed to see though that the seats dont recline very far (think aircraft seats) and are nowhere near as good as the sleeper seats on the LD lines ferry from Potrsmouth to Le Havre.
I take my seat and the ferry doesnt seem all that busy, I start chatting with a guy 2 seats away and it turns out we're practically neighbours back home!
We both agree that we're not going to get much sleep in these seats.
After a while he dissapears for a few mins and comes back with a bottle of red wine and 2 glasses, "drink half of this" he says and I happily oblige.
Sure enough the wine done the trick and we're both asleep within the hour, and all thru the night the only sounds to be heard is the gentle hum of the large diesel engines pushing us twords France and the disturbingly regular farts coming from one of the gixer riders a few rows behind me.

No Adrian you didnt get it wrong.....how could you pay someone to take you by the hand and charge ridiculous money for something you can do better yourself? I dont know how those guys could admit to doing that and not blush for shame. :blushing: And France is hardly the place to need pampering as they did. It's not exactly far away.

Dont fall for the advertising guff - do your own thing.:thumbup1::scooter:

I cross the channel every 2 or 3 weeks and see this all the time on every ferry!
Not wishing to get into bike debates (because every one to there own) but the main culprits are the bikes with the sticky out cyclinders and then the real loud ones with the leather panniers on!
Dont get me wrong I take my hat off to them for riding but it makes me chuckle when a guide meets them at the port and does what there shiny satnav would have done.

I love my 650 Strom,she has taken the better half & me to some nice places with never a GPS or tour guide in sight! Personally I enjoy planning my trips myself but hey, horses for courses, if some people want to fork out for a guide then it keeps some happy soul employed:mchappy:
Hope you had a good time in Brittany, nice part of the world.

3 Days in Brittany
 

Friday.
Its 5.45 am and the alarm on my phone has just gone off, but Im allready awake.
I have time for a shower and some breakfast before we dock at 7 o clock.
After I freshen up in the spotlessly clean showers and have a quick bite to eat I head out on deck for my first look at Roscoff.
The morning has dawned dull and grey, and its a bit chilly aswell.
All the bikers are here, all buzzing with excitement and nervous chatter as we slowly edge our way into the port.
We all head down to our bikes and it turns out most of us (except the GS riders) are heading in the general direction of Vannes.
I get chatting to 2 fellas from Yorkshire, one has a brand new Z1000 and the other has TDM900, they're on the way to Carnac to see the ancient stone monuments and then heading back up to the Normandy beaches.
Im heading for Quiberon, a penninsula near Carnac and so we decide to ride together.
The ramp comes down and we all ride off.
I love this feeling, rolling onto new ground, opposite side of the road, different language, not really knowing where Im going to pitch my tent tonight.
We have a look at my map in the tank bag and decide to just head south thru Morlaix.
We all leave the docks together, except the GS riders who it looks like are waiting around for the tour guide to arrive!
My 2 new travel partners are good fellas, nothing to prove to anyone, no "look at me and how fast I can go" antics etc.
We head south and after a few miles it starts to rain, not much, but enough to make you wary on strange roads.
We pass thru Morlaix (nice town) and after a while we pull in for fuel, the Z1000 need refilling after 90/100 miles, but the TDM and my own Strom are ok for a long time yet.
Theres what looks like an old dissused car showroom near the petrol pumps and inside they have a couple of really old Citreon's and Merc's with flat tyres and layers of dust on them .
I take a couple of pics with my disposable camera (forgot the digital doh)
and we hit the road again.
The rain clears and the day starts to brighten up and it even gets warm.
After a few miles nature calls and we pull into the side of the road in a wooded area, I get rid of this mornings cofee and we're standing around having a chat when the 2 Gixers and the GSX 650 from the ferry pass by, giving us a big wave as they go.
We are all starting to get a bit hungry now so we decide to make Lorient our next stop for a bite to eat.
For the next hour we ride some lovely allmost deserted roads down to lorient and pull in to a small resteraunt to have some much needed food.
You can imagine the difficulty the staff had trying to understand 2 fellas with heavy Yorkshire accents and me with my strong Irish accent, we could barely understand each other!
As we eat we have our first proper chat and it turns out that one of the guys has travelled extensively around the world for many years, he had some great stories and I could have listened for hours.
Time was getting on and the 2 yorkshire guys had quite a few miles still to cover today so we mount up and push on for Carnac.
We arrive in Carnac about an hour later and the Z1000 needs to fill up again with fuel.
We take some pics and have a stroll around town, its quiet as its lunchtime but its very old and picturesque.
The 2 guys have to leave for Normandy so we say our goodbyes and wish each other safe travel, they head North and I head for Quiberon which is only a few miles away.
I ride out on the peninsula with the bay of Biscay on either side of me, past what looks like an old millitary outpost and thru some small villages.
The road is full of campervans and its obvious this place depends heavily on tourism for its income.
I arrive in the town of Quiberon and I pull up on the footpath in the town centre to call home to say that I have arrived.
After a quick phone call I jump back on the bike and follow the signs for the campsites.
I find one about a mile down the road, its got hot showers and its busy but still has room for tents, and its only 7.70 Euro for the night!
I pitch my tent, make some food and ride back into town to buy some croissants and water for tommorows breakfast.
I buy the water and 2 croissants but the guy behind the counter insists I also take one of his famous cream and almond croissants and wont accept any payment for it!
Back to the campsite and its time for a shower and then a walk into town.
I pop into an open fronted bar for a drink and Im sitting there looking out onto the street when a Toyota Supra turbo pulls up outside.
The driver floors the throttle, dumps the clutch and the car just sits there manically spinning its rear wheels, filling the bar with tyre smoke.
The customers erupt into cheers and applause and finally he stops, smiles and screeches away, leaving 2 black lines outside the bar.
The whole episode reminds me of why I like France so much.
The evening is nice and fairly warm and I pass the time srolling around visiting different bars and chatting to the locals as best I can.
Around 10 pm I decide to head back to my tent and I walk back along the the sea front listening to the waves crashing on the beach below me.
Back in the tent and Im feeling a bit peckish after a few drinks, but not to worry, I have the famous cream and almond croissant to fill me up until morning.
Time for sleep, I think Ill head to the city of Brest tommorow.

WONDERFUL!

One thing about living in the USA is that the country is huge! That is nice in that you can go so many places and everyone (almost) speaks the same language, but you miss the ability to go to different countries like you can over there in the UK. Really cool trip. Please do share more!

3 days in Brittany.
 

Saturday.
This morning dawned dull and grey with a slight chill in the air.
The campsite is hive of activity with people cooking breakfast, using the shower blocks and generally just walking about chatting to each other and passing the time of day.
I notice a few people pointing and looking skywards, and high in the sky above us I can see 5 or 6 small black dots falling fast towords the ground, suddenly numerous coloured parachutes open and the skydivers come in to land in a field across the road from us.
I have my breakfast of 2 plain croissants and a bottle of water, jump in the shower, pack my gear and im ready to leave by 11am.
Im tired of strapping on the soft luggage every morning so I have decided that when I get home im going to build a hard luggage system with lockable panniers.
Im riding thru town but get diverted because a festival is taking place and lots of local people are out to watch the marching bands and floats go by.
I pull in for fuel and notice that the fuel attendant is the same guy who filled the bar in town with tyre smoke last night, I wonder if he gets a discount on all the fuel he need to keep his Toyota Supra running?
I stop off in Carnac again to take some more pics and then its time to head for Brest.
The journey to Brest is relaxed and smooth with the usual nice villages and countryside and nobody seems to be in a rush to get anywhere.
I overtake a guy with a rifle strapped to his back riding a 125! and in turn I get overtaken by a KTM 990 with UK plates, 2 up, fully loaded, with a set of Akropovic cans and he is flat out on the limit, I can still hear him allmost a minute later when he has dissapeared into the distance!
Entering the city of Brest from the south I have to cross a large and impressive suspension bridge with lovely views all around.
I keep left after the bridge and head towords the busy docklands area of the town which has seen a lot of refurbishment over the past few years.
I ride around for a while to get my bearings and I come across Mcguigans bar, the owner, from Belfast, spent 4 years as a bike courier in London on a RG 500 with a large aluminium top box!
In his pub he has got a beautifull vintage British 2 stroke engine mounted on a plinth and placed in the centre of the bar, he does bed and breakfast here also but its all booked up tonight, just my luck!
He directs me to a cheap and cheerfull hotel around the corner with safe parking for the bike.
I check in, park my bike and still have lots of time to go sight seeing.

3 days in Brittany.
 

Its been a long time since i was on this site, who'd have thought having a baby son would be so time consuming!
I think its about time I finished this ride report.

Saturday evening/Sunday.
I leave the hotel with the best intentions of doing some sightseeing, but first I need to eat so I call into a bar/restaurant just down the street.
I get into conversation with a chap originally from the U.K. but now living in Rotterdam, he buys a round, then I buy a round, and we chat for a couple of hours, he works on the ships as an engineer, travelling around the world sorting out problems, the moneys good but he's away from his family a lot which isnt ideal.
After a while I head back to the pub with the old motorcycle engine on display on the bar, its very busy now with lots of young local people eating and drinking. The owner serves me up a fine meal of local food and we spend a couple of hours talking and he tells me about his life in France and love of motorcycles.
By now its much too late for sight seeing so I decide to make a night of it.
I visit a couple of more bars and end up in a late night club where a really good live rock band plays until 3am. And then just when I thought it was time to leave they produce a big screen and they put on AC/DC live in donnington! The club is full and its a cracking night.
Its 5am when the doors finally close, time for bed, wont be long until its time for breakfast.
9.30 am and the alarm punches me straight between the eyes, "why didnt I come home at a decent time" I cry to myself as I squint thru the bedroom curtains at the bright sunny morning outside. There is no way I can ride a bike for a few hours so I head down the street for some breakfast.
I walk around for an hour and eventually find a Mexican restaurant open for some spicy breakfast which should help kick start me for the trip back to Roscoff and the ferry.
Sunday's seem really relaxed in Brest and there are lots of familys out for breakfast and lunch.
Grandparents, Parents and Children all from the same family will be sitting around the same table, all eating breakfast and having a laugh and just generally enjoying each others company.
Watching them makes me miss my little boy.
I spend another couple of hours strolling around the docks area, taking a few pics on my disposable camera because I forgot to bring the digital one.
Finally, its time to load the bike up and get going.
The ride back to Roscoff is quiet and smooth but theres quiet a bit of traffic around.
In Roscoff I end up talking to a couple in their late 60's who have just done a trip around Spain and France on their BMW F800ST.
Its got belt drive and lots of little detail touches that are really nice.
It also does about 70 mpg according to the owner.
The styling isnt to everybodys taste but it seems to me to be a pretty ideal bike for travelling around Europe on.
The ferry trip back to Plymouth is really nice.
As usual with the Armorique, its spotless clean and the staff are top class, as is the food.
I grab a plastic chair and go sit on the top deck, looking out over the railing at the other fishing vessels, cago ships and ferrys as we make our way smoothly back to Plymouth.
Its cold but really refreshing in the sea air and its just what I need after my late night last night.
I roll off the ferry and make my way to the M5 and head for home, after half an hour I pull into a services to fill up with fuel, "rather you than me" said the young guy behind the counter, apparently he thought it was much too cold to be on a motorbike at this time on a Sunday night.
45 mins later and im home, the bike is locked away in the garage, and im sitting on the sofa drinking a cup of tea.
I had a great time and I cant wait to do it again soon, I just wish I had the time to do a proper trip, like from the UK to Turkey and back.
Someday....Hopefully.

You can sleep easy now im back!:mchappy:

It's good to read your trip ended fine......


You could try this plan:
Spend the next 17 years bringing up your children (don't stop at one). That time'll go so fast - you'll be caught by surprise when you find yourself riding motorbikes to Turkey with them, and to Russia, around Europe and wherever else that you and they have the determination for.

No, I never imagined that would be either possible or sensible - but you cannot know the future.
Just keep it in your dreams. Ride safe in the meantime.