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One mistake I made on this trip was hurrying through Brittany, not enough photos. At the time I was mostly thinking of getting back on track, and putting the 200 miles to Normandy under the tires pretty quick.

The first 15 miles or so went frustratingly slow. Though was I needing to go east, first I had to run 15 miles south to get to the town of Morlaix and around a long estuary. The only direct route was off limits to bicycles, seen here looking towards Morlaix (note again the radical change in climate from just the day before in Ireland )...



I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore when I passed fields of these things.... this is what artichokes look like.



Morlaix is a pretty little touristy town at the top of a long, narrow estuary, the town framed by a spectacular two-level railway viaduct, a lock holding water in the tiny harbor at low tide. One of those places where I shoulda taken more photos but didn't, and some of those I thought I was taking somehow never made it to the iphone memory. I do have this one.



Turns out Bretons are a different sort of French, with their own language. But even out in the sticks people everywhere in the world got the 'net, and are plugged in. Case in point; in some backwoods village in BF Brittany I came across this: At first I thought it was some sort of moody French artwork. Moody French artwork it may have been, but what it also was was a portrait tribute to the recently deceased David Bowie....



Despite my early start, it was noontime before I got to Morlaix on account of the winding backroads. A long steep climb out of town held me up further so naturally, being so far off-course as I felt I was, I was getting frustrated.

No worries, turns out France as a whole is a whole lot easier to navigate on a bicycle then say, England. Unlike England, the backroads where I went in Brittany and Normandy trended long and straight. I made the next 60 miles to St. Brieuc before dark.