Friday dawned, and I was completely unaware of it being fast asleep at the time. Sometime around ten-ish Shazzerooneypoos and I made the traditional hunting and gathering trip to Trebrivan's boulangerie for baguettes.
I busied myself dans la cuisine, prepping up a hearty beef and carrot stew in readiness for the arrival later that evening of The High Lord of Southwick (of which more later). The weather was much more amenable to tramping through Breton countryside, so I made up a picnic as well and 'ere long the famous foursome was to be found in Loqueffret ready for a circuit around St Herbot and its famed church.
Ok, so the shot only shows three of the foursome, but someone had to operate the camera. In this instance 'twas Mrs The Millbrooker.
It was the same talent that clambered the wooden steps inside Loqueffret's church to take this interior shot of the walk's starting point. I might be a curmudgeonly old atheist, but church interiors really are very attractive.
As is normally the case, it was a matter of moments before we were tramping through country lanes and trackways. Here are Dong, Shazzerooneypoos and Mrs The Millbrooker in fine trogging-along form just outside Loqueffret.
The trackways narrowed and the views expanded...
...and after a few miles we found ourselves descending along the route previously taken by generations of pilgrims into St Herbot...
...where we had promised Dong there would be a cafe/bar. There was.
It was shut.
After munching our picnic, it was onwards and upwards. Very much upwards. A long uphill yomp through forested lanes. Shazzerooneypoos decided that she didn't like uphill and her little legs couldn't quite keep up - but she made a game effort. Here she is a short distance off the pace heading towards the rest of the pack.
Soon enough after cresting the summit we found ourselves in moorland territory and the footpath displayed a traditional Breton tendency towards impassability.
Mrs The Millbrooker made the first brave crossing of the minor lake as Shazzerooneypoos contemplated the disadvantage of very short legs when crossing hazardous ponds.
Of course, we all got to try out the adventure. Thank goodness for decent walking boots.
Eventually, Loqueffret came back into view and its village centre bar was eagerly anticipated.
Its village centre bar was, however, closed.
Not to be down-hearted we sped off to La Feuillee and its remarkably decorated drinking establishment to end our adventure in traditional style with a nice cold beer.
Now, just as an aside. And as a reward for having read this far.
Advertised within said bar was possibly the most outrageously named band I've come across in recent years. They played in Brasparts on 22nd May according to the poster. Shame we missed it.