The Sweetness of Serendipity: Langon and Grand-Fougeray

Posted on 19/08/2019 by John Kocan

Two Towers Across the Lake – Grand-Fougeray

It was time for yet another random outing. The weather was fine. Not too hot (we’re from Seattle, remember), and we had not been out to sightsee for a couple of weeks. Determined not to neglect any of our fortunate time here in France, we decided that we needed to get out and see something new. So, late Saturday night I leafed through one of our guidebooks and found a few interesting spots located to the east of us. Not far. Perfect for a short day-trip. Having settled on two sites, we set off on Sunday morning. And, yes, technically, it was still morning (11:30). Just. Unless we’re compelled by some unreasonably early appointment, 11:30 is about as soon as Cherie and I are likely to step out of the door. It’s a well-established family policy.

First on the agenda was the small town of Langon. This community sits on one side of a valley through which runs the Villaine river. The town is also fortunate to have a rail station on the line which runs from Redon to Rennes, giving it connections to Nantes in the south and Lorient to the west. After a nice 45-minute drive through undulating countryside and pleasant little villes, we arrived, winding gently down through pretty stone buildings into the center of town. The sun was shining through a tattered carpet of pillowy clouds, the temperature was just perfect for a t-shirt, jeans and cardigan – and it was quiet. Like, really quiet.

Sundays are quite lazy days in France unless you find yourself in a larger city. Very few (if any) shops are open and, if they are, only for a couple of hours in the morning. Usually one can find a café, bar or restaurant open during the lunch hours (12pm – 2pm). And boulangeries are generally open throughout the main hours of the day. Given our accustomed late starts, we nearly always end up at a boulangerie, grasping for the last sandwiches or quiches remaining in their glass cases. But, this being France, they almost without exception prove to be excellent fare. Even if the sandwiches or quiches aren’t so great, we never leave a boulangerie without patisserie (also family policy – the first item on the list, as a matter of fact); so, a mediocre meal will always be made infinitely better by finishing off with a lovely fruit tart or at least a pain au chocolat! It’s pretty hard to lose under such circumstances.

Apart from a couple of other visitors and some locals in the lone café to be open that day, we had the town to ourselves. Our aim was to see the Chapelle Sainte-Agathe. This chapel is one of the few surviving examples of Gallo-Roman architecture in Bretagne. It it thought to have begun life in the 4th century as either a mortuary vault or as a bath. At some point it became a temple for venerating Venus and then transitioned into a Christian church. The history seems rather unsettled, but regardless of that, this little building is a rare survivor in this part of France. Over 1,600 years old. Amazing!

But, O Fortuna! The chapel was closed. Not entirely surprising. But disappointing nonetheless. The interior is supposed to contain a fresco of Venus rising from the waves and Eros astride a dolphin. Racy. It would have been great to see the inside, but that’s the chance you take when you make spontaneous sight-seeing trips on a Sunday. It’s not far from Malestroit so we will have to make a return trip to view the interior of this lovely little chapel.

An unexpected bonus of our visit to Langon was the town’s parish church: Église St. Pierre. The church is literally steps away from the chapel and we were delighted to see a marvelous display of twelve bell-turrets arranged around the tower, each one keenly pointed and individually shod in slate tiles. It was plain to see that this church has been entirely restored – inside and out – within the past couple of years. And a fine job was done. Very impressive work. We were especially taken with the interior. The lime-render of every wall surface had been completely renewed and sensitively redecorated in a period fashion which evokes its original state when first constructed between the 11th and 12th centuries. It is magnificent. Just the kind of restoration we like to see.

Sublime Decoration: the Nave and Chancel

We had the entire church to ourselves, allowing us to appreciate undisturbed the harmony of the architecture and its decoration. The peace of our visit was only broken once, momentarily, when one of the church bells suddenly (and loudly) struck the hour somewhere directly above. At the time, I was having one of those sublime out-of-body moments that I experience whenever I am confronted by a beautiful medieval building. The bell shocked me so much I nearly let fly with a pithy selection of invective from my vast vocabulary of swear words and curses. Luckily, I managed to swallow my frothy utterance before committing an outrageous (though witty) sacrilege. I’m not in the least bit religious, but I have a great respect and admiration for these buildings, as well as for the people who maintain them and the congregations who keep them alive. The last thing I want to do is dishonor a place so precious to them. This time I had had a narrow escape!

12 Bell Towers Surrounding a Central Spire (the Apostles and Their Lord)

Admiring chapels and churches is hungry work. It was also mid-afternoon. Cherie spotted a boulangerie just up the street from the church so she just managed to squeak through their open door before they closed while I minded Saxon. Distraught, as he always is, to be separated by more than three feet from the love of his life, Cherie, the dog and I fidgeted outside while she grabbed lunch. Out of sandwiches, the boulangère sold her a couple of individual quiches, a strawberry tart (for Cherie) and a pear tart (my favorite). We quickly munched them in the car in a very un-french manner, and then set off for our second destination: Grand-Fougeray.

Crossing the Villaine river and continuing further eastward for 15 minutes brought us to Grand-Fougeray. It’s a small-ish town of around 2,500 souls with a lovely square. Even though the end of lunchtime was fast approaching the restaurants terraces were still lively with diners enjoying their meals en plein air on this relaxed summer’s day. It made for a nice atmosphere amidst the backdrop of well-maintained 18th and 19th century facades and riots of flowers blooming in the numerous planters dotted around the square. So typically French. These scenes, so common in France, make us smile every time.

But our goal in this area lay instead on the edge of town. So, this time, at least, we didn’t tarry in the centre-ville and made straight for La Tour du Guesclin. This tower, or donjon, is the only substantial remnant of a castle that had once guarded not only the town of Grand-Fougeray, but also the border of Bretagne which, for most of the Middle Ages, was an autonomous duchy, independent of the kingdom of France. Such vigilance was necessary. For several french kings had made military forays against Bretagne. The only land approach being from the east, several large fortresses were constructed on Bretagne’s borders to guard against recurring french invasions. The castle at Grand-Fougeray was one of these (our new home to the north, Fougères, was another of these guardians of the marches). This string of defenses served as a bulwark to help maintain the duchy’s independence for centuries.

A Strategically Stacked Pile of Stones – Tour du Guesclin

Our guide-book merely includes a brief mention of the Tour du Guesclin. No photos. From the description, we expected a stumpy ruin poking out of the grass, just recognizable as having once been a tower. But as we drove into the casually-marked parking lot, we were stunned to be confronted by an intact monumental stone tower 34 meters high and 13 meters wide. Wow! Although once part of a walled castle, the tower now stands alone, the last sentinel still keeping watch over this part of Bretagne’s ancient border. A beautiful and serene park and arboretum has grown up around the tower, resulting in a very pleasant setting. The tower’s neighbor next door is an eighteenth-century château-cum-convent and on this day several of the nuns had ventured out between their daily services to enjoy the park and take a jovial turn up the spiral staircase of the edifice which overlooks their garden walls.

The fortress of Grand-Fougeray was begun in 1189. In 1350 it was captured by an english pirate (seriously) and occupied by the english for four years until Betrand du Guesclin, constable of France, recaptured it. The tower has borne his name ever since. When we first arrived, the tower appeared to be closed. It looked like, if were to get a look inside, we would ourselves have to lay siege to it. But we forgot to bring our battering ram. So, after a first look around the exterior, we took a stroll through the arboretum, Saxon having great fun sniffing around and watching the many ducks in the ponds with his ever-present fascination for such things. When we returned, the door of the tower was wide open and people were casually entering. Not a battering ram in sight. What luck! It must have been closed for lunchtime. Opening (and closing) times in France are highly unpredictable, changeable and often seemingly random. Sometimes you get lucky. We were quite happy to find that this was one of those times.

Sensibly, the French tend to take a dim view of allowing a large black standard poodle who is lavishly uninhibited in demonstrating his love of meeting new people to wander around inside national historic monuments. So, I entered the tower first to have a look around while Cherie waited outside with our celebrity dog. Ostensibly, the tower was open for an art exhibition. A number of local artists had their works plastered all over the interior spaces of the tower. Although the “art” was a bit distracting, it was still possible to see the beautiful architecture it was concealing.

Clearly, this was once a lavish building. Still visible are the numerous carved moldings, capitals, plinths, lintels, architraves and other decorative features. It was easy to imagine the now-bare stone walls once covered with lime plaster and brightly painted with patterns, figures and/or solid panels of color, some hung with tapestries or painted cloths. Even though it is now a bit stark, it is easy to feel how comfortable and luxurious the rooms of this tower must have once been. Each floor, joined by a projecting spiral stairway, features a large central space from which smaller peripheral chambers radiate around the exterior. The floors were laid in red or buff-colored terra-cotta tiles adding a further sense of solidity to the spaces (as if it needed it). I lingered as long as I dared. After a last look, I reluctantly exited so that Cherie could take her turn. She found it no less impressive than I did. All in all, we both felt that this was a real gem and one of the better medieval buildings we have visited.

Our visits to Lougan and Grand-Fougeray were further proof of our theory that, more often than not, it is the unexpected things which turn out to be the most rewarding travel experiences. It is the surprise discovery or the unforeseen event which gives us the most pleasure, the most long-lasting memories.

Serendipity. We swear by it. And it almost never lets us down. We hope that it works in your favor as well.

The Colors of Pont-Aven

Posted on 22/07/2019 by John Kocan

The Aven River Coursing Gently Past Foot-Bridges

A somewhat hastily planned outing to the Breton town of Pont-Aven was on our agenda for this weekend. Frustration with the glacial pace of progress on our house renovation in Fougères continues to build so we felt we needed a sanity break. What better way than to visit a picturesque ville and a château on a lazy summer’s day? It was also my birthday (54 years – almost equal to the number of hairs on my head) so I was keen to get out and do something. Not that I feel the Grim Reaper’s breath – surprisingly minty, by the way – on my back, but I am gaining a greater appreciation of how fleeting time can be. Best to gather ye rosebuds while ye may, n’est-ce pas? [Obscure reference to 17th century English poetry courtesy of my liberal education.]

From Malestroit in Morbihan, we drove to the département of Finistère which encompasses the westernmost portion of Bretagne. It’s about an hour-and-a-half drive through gentle hills festooned with oak, beech, and lush farmland of cow pastures, maize and grain crops. It’s pretty country, reminding me somewhat of the area where I grew up in western Oregon.

Our trusty Audi which we purchased not long after we moved to France has proven to be a great car. We bought it used but with low mileage. A plug-in hybrid, the electric battery will get us around 60 kilometers on a full charge. It doesn’t sound like much, but it actually translates in to a considerable savings in fuel consumption. Like most people, the majority of our car trips are short errands around town. We find that we complete most of these trips using only the electric battery.

Our primary intention in purchasing a hybrid electric car was to reduce our carbon emissions. Because, you know, man-made climate change is a real thing and we prefer to try to contribute to reversing it rather than sticking our heads in the sand. So, the car is good for that. It is quite satisfying to be quietly making one’s way through the cobblestone streets under electric power. Of course, we try to walk when we can. And our hybrid electric is certainly not the best solution available. But we feel it’s at least a small positive step towards a wiser, more sustainable future.

The Audi also saves us a bit of cash. In our present situation living in Malestroit, we don’t have a place to park the car where it is appropriate to charge it from an outlet in the house. Thanks to some very forward-thinking action on the part of the town’s leaders, Malestroit has installed, not one, but two charging stations in its main parking lot. And one of those even offers free charging. A slow, full charge of wind-turbine-generated power takes about two-and-a-half hours. Not the most convenient, given that I have to take the car out and pick it up from the charger. But still a pretty sweet deal. Once we are moved in to our house in Fougères, we can simply plug the car in from our garage at will. Can’t wait!

Pont-Aven rests cozily in a narrow valley through which the River Aven flows on its way to the sea. In fact, the tidal limit of the estuary comes up to the southern end of town. There, the river widens, accommodating a sizable fleet of pleasure boats moored either side of the main channel. Except for this channel, the river bed stands dry at low tide. The boats are modified to remain upright on their landlocked moorings by the use of legs fixed to either side of their hulls so that, in concert with their deep keels, they always have at least two points on the ground to stabilize them. It’s a pretty harbor and would be a lovely place to keep an old sailboat. I can dream, can’t I?

Calming the Current: Along the River Aven

The river Aven forms the spine of the town. As it flows through the center of the ville it is channelled into numerous mill races (the mills themselves now long disused) which are criss-crossed by a series of pedestrian bridges. The bridges are well-kept and made all the more colorful with rows of flowers in planters along their railings. The watercourse is often interrupted by patches of large boulders, strewn about as though, in the dim mists of times now long forgotten, géantes celtique were interrupted in their crude game of pétanque, leaving their pieces lay as they were thrown. Along the banks of the river, numerous lavoirs step down to the water, where once the householders of the town washed their clothes. In the rare quiet moment, we could imagine the sounds of scrubbing, beating and rinsing as it must have been for centuries. On this warm July day of sun and puffy clouds, the whole made for really pleasant scene. We soaked it in for a good long time as we meandered along the paths and bridges.

One of Many Bridges Tracing the River’s Path

A Sluice-Gate Amongst the Bracken, the Mill it Used to Serve in the Background

Our river walk was particularly satisfying because we had just enjoyed a quiet lunch. The restaurant is situated at the very heart of this busy tourist town and we were seated at a widow above the street. Inveterate people-watchers, we engaged in one of our favorite spectator sports, amusing ourselves with the myriad of visitors marching past our view.

Pont-Aven is quite popular with tourists – it has been so since at least the 19th century. From the 1850’s to 1900 it became the frequent summer haunt of artists, the most famous of which was Paul Gaugin. [For any of you interested in art history, I recommend a quick read of the Wikipedia page for the “Pont-Aven School”. A lesser-known, nonetheless influential art movement.] It’s not hard to see why this area attracted artists and continues to do so. The light, the many colors, the juxtaposition of a myriad of textures, architecture and nature, the people, the boats and, running through it all, the water. There’s so much to dazzle the eye.

We really enjoyed our trip to Pont-Aven. A lovely town in a lovely setting. It’s definitely worth a visit for anyone and we ourselves are quite likely to return someday.

After a few hours in town, we decided to spend the remains of the afternoon at the manor.

You know. As one often does.

Unfortunately, the manor in question does not belong to us. But thanks to the kind people of Bretagne (and payment of a small entry fee) we were allowed to poke around the house and grounds of Le Manoir de Kernault. The house was begun in the 15th century and later modified successively in the 17th and 19th centuries.

The Chapel Behind a Spray of Golden Grass

The house itself is a beautiful example of Breton manorial architecture and there remain many elements of the original building. An unusual feature is the attached chapel. Manorial chapels were most often separate structures situated within the confines of the house and outbuildings. This one, however, is built on to the side of the house with an exterior stairway access for servants and manorial workers and a private doorway from within the house itself for use by the seigneur (lord) and his family.

Directly opposite the house is a large grain store built in stone and half-timber. Such a rare thing to survive. It’s quite large. Far too large for storing the crops produced by the manor’s fields alone. Researchers have theorized that the manor must have been speculating on crops from other farms in the area, storing the grain over several years until a time when the selling price was advantageous enough to reap a significant profit. Sound familiar? Some things never change.

The Cool Shade of an Allée on a Warm Summer’s Day

We had an interesting and pleasant wander through the manoir’s buildings and fields, pausing to have some tea at the lovely little café in one of the farm’s outbuildings. By the late afternoon we had run out of steam [Did I mention I just turned 54?]. So, even though there was much more of the farmland and animals to see, we called it a day and promised ourselves that we would return to explore further.

Tower and Town – Our Search for a New Home

Posted on 17/07/2019 by John Kocan

In the Jardin du Nançon, Our New Home in the Background

Where? Well, one of the benefits of being quite new to France was that we held no preconceived ideas about which area would be the best for us. So, pretty much all of France was in our sights. Of course, many of you are familiar with our preference for cooler climes. Thus we did have some bias against southern France. Apart from that, we were keeping an open mind.

We also knew that we preferred to live in an urban setting if possible. Having lived – and loved – our lives in the heart of Capitol Hill in Seattle, we didn’t think that we could trade away the liveliness and convenience of having services, entertainment and restaurants within easy walking distance of our doorstep. Not that it had to be a large city like Paris or Lyon. But we hoped we could find at least a medium-sized town which offered an urban ambiance. Malestroit is a lovely, lovely town. And, compared to most American towns of similar size, it packs quite a punch in terms of services, commerce and events. Even so, it’s a little too quiet, a little too insular to suit our taste.

By far the most important criteria for finding a place to live was the house itself. Cherie and I are both massive enthusiasts for architecture – as long as that architecture was built before 1940. Apologies to all of you lovers of mid-century modern and later styles, but we find nearly all of that to be appallingly cold, unimaginative, without soul. It’s lucky that we both tend to gravitate toward the same types of buildings. Generally, the older the better. Although I suppose we would both draw the line at stone-age cave dwellings. Give us a medieval or renaissance abode any day. A neo-gothic or Palladian pile? Sign us up. For us, a minimalist concrete box with “clean lines” doesn’t hold any appeal. To put it another way, we prefer Glen Close to Kim Kardashian; Rembrandt to Rothko; Bach to Satie.

Looking for properties here in France is a bit more of a random affair. One does not enlist an agent who will help you search for you dream home, arrange viewings and accompany you to the property. Nope, that’s all up to you. Here, each agent holds a certain inventory of homes for sale and they will only show you those properties. So, if you see a property you like, you must contact the particular agent who represents the owner of that property; they generally seem to accompany you to view the house – which is a bonus when compared to the U.K. where they only set up the viewing but you are on your own with the property owner or renter (as the case may be) to view the house.

In essence, there is no one on your side. No one to represent your interests when searching for properties. If you are lucky, the home owner’s agent will be reasonably objective and help you out, but they are under no obligation to act in your best interests. I suppose that when buying properties in the U.S. we had been a bit coddled with the real estate structure in place there. And because of that, we had come to expect that same form of adult supervision in property searches everywhere. But it’s just not so. In France, you must be more actively involved. Once you accept that, the process is really not too difficult.

We began our search right away – just a couple of weeks after we settled in to our rental house in Malestroit. Online, we searched through thousands of properties. No joke. Thousands. There is a website here called Le Bon Coin. It’s the basic equivalent to Craig’s List in the U.S. This site has both private and professional home sales on it and ended up being the best resource for our initial search.

After finding a few likely candidates, we would call the agents or owners to arrange a viewing. Even though we considered properties throughout France, we ended up looking almost exclusively in Bretagne. To a significant extent, it was just easier to travel back and forth in the space of one day. We had no one to watch Saxon so he would have to come along on overnight forays. Was it practicality or laziness? Maybe a little of both. But in our defense, Saxon doesn’t like to ride in the car – it’s uncomfortable for him and makes him a little carsick as well. So it’s best for everybody if we avoid long drives anyway.

The Widely-Traveled Valerie Living it Up in South Africa

In the midst of our search, Cherie’s mother, Valerie (“Val”), came to visit us. She is an ardent house junkie. So she quite happily joined us on several property viewings throughout Bretagne and the Loire Valley. We all had a fun time crawling, climbing, snaking through ancient houses that were sometimes barely standing.

Just before Val arrived, we happened upon a property in the northeast corner of Bretagne in the medium-sized town of Fougères. Both of us liked it and we thought it would be worth a second look while Val was here to give us the benefit of her opinion. She has a keen eye and we wanted her take on it. At second look, we liked it even more. Val was convinced it was the place for us. Cherie loved it so much that it brought tears of joy to her eyes. Nevertheless, we tried to remain pragmatic; we looked at a few more properties. But, in the end, nothing matched the house in Fougères.

L’Usine Pacory: 19th Century View of the Pacory Shoe Factory Enshrouding the Tower

This is the state in which the tower remains today. There is a single, main floor, finished for living, with two bedrooms, a kitchen, shower room, separate toilet, laundry area, and a living room. And the top floor under the semi-conical roof, was used by the former owners as a third bedroom. The two levels below the main floor remain unfinished. There is also a small remaining portion of industrial building attached to one side of the tower containing two levels, each of which are also unfinished.

The Entry Hall with a View Toward the Front Door

Former Bed Chamber. To Be Transformed into a Kitchen

Living Room with Views Over the Park

Attic Space to Become a Master Suite

The “Chapel” (So-Called) Constituting the Second Level of the Tower. A Future Sitting Room

The tower stands against a slope. As a consequence, the main floor is on the third level of the structure. The entry into this main floor is level with a small courtyard and short drive which leads to the main street: Rue de la Pinterie. The base of the tower opens on to a pathway and looks out over a park, Le Jardin du Nançon. There is a bit of outside space, broken up into four areas. Two of these are paved terraces (the Upper Terrace and the Sun Terrace), while two others are small garden spaces (the Jardin and the Potager).

Saxon Posing on the Upper Terrace

We couldn’t have found a better location for our house. It is situated directly in the heart of Fougères. This allows us to walk to restaurants, grocery stores, pharmacies, the theater, post office, the mairie (town hall) and, most importantly: the boulangerie. We are just steps away from Fougères’ large Saturday market. Moreover, I am able to trot down our street directly to the Château – one of the largest surviving medieval fortifications in Europe.

Little Courtyard, Drive and Gate to the Street (View from Our Front Door)

And yet with all of this convenience, the house itself is well off the street, isolated in its little courtyard. The other side of the property overlooks a large park through which meanders the Nançon river (really little more than a creek). The park is pretty and quiet. And the best part is, we have a lovely park as our back yard without having to maintain it ourselves. Sweet! So, for us, La Tour Desnos (we think it’s pronounced “day-know”) is pretty much perfectly situated.

Rue de la Pinterie: View from Just Outside Our Driveway Gate

Fougères (pronounced “foo-jehr”) itself is a town of about 21,000 citizens. It’s a 30 minute drive southwest to Rennes, the largest city in Bretagne. The town has a theater, multiplex cinema, numerous restaurants, cafes and bars, shops and services of all kinds – pretty much everything one normally needs in daily life. The only amenity our new town lacks is a train connection. There used to be one. But, as with countless other towns and villages throughout France, its rail line was shut down decades ago. Luckily we can at least catch the high speed rail (in France it’s called the TGV) in nearby Vitré 20 minutes to the south, or at the main station in Rennes. So it won’t be too much effort to conveniently explore the country by France’s excellent rail system.

Place Aristide Briand (a Two-Minute Walk from Our Home)

Rue Nationale

Église Saint-Léonard

Beffroi: A 14th c. Bell Tower We Can Hear from Our House (Don’t Worry – It’s a Good Thing!)

You may have noticed that we haven’t moved into our new home yet. That’s because we decided to make some changes to the layout on both the main and top floors. We’re also removing an external staircase, installing a new internal staircase, creating two bedroom suites, installing new electrics and plumbing, making minor repairs to the roof and sun terrace, building a covered passage between the tower and industrial building and fitting out a couple of workshop areas.

Terminus of Rue de la Pinterie (Our Street) at Château de Fougères

La Ville Basse: The Medieval Quarter of the Lower Town

As things progress on the house, I will provide additional Renovation Updates. In the meantime, we continue to pinch ourselves, feeling incredibly fortunate to own such an ancient piece of France’s historical patrimony. We feel terribly privileged to be the custodians of La Tour Desnos for this chapter in its long story. And I hope to be able to dig more deeply into the tower’s past history. Once I have compiled a more detailed story, I’ll share it with you all.

I’ll leave you with just a few more photos of some highlights from our new home town:

Le Jardin Publique Overlooking the Lower Town and Château

Victor Hugo Theater (a One-Minute Walk from Our House)

Finding Our France

A New Life in the Old World

Tag Archives: Historic House

The Sweetness of Serendipity: Langon and Grand-Fougeray

The Colors of Pont-Aven

Tower and Town – Our Search for a New Home