Saint-Malo, in the province of Bretagne, is a wonderful destination to visit and revisit – apart from being the home of our daughter Wendy. This time, we were there to drop off our Renault Twingo for the winter and spend the first part of Wendy’s birthday with her.
Ideally located in Intramuros (literally, “within the walls” of the medieval old town of St Malo), our room in Hôtel de la Cité appeared to have been renovated recently and did the job of accommodating us for two nights. But I can’t recommend the place for its service: a broken shower-rose remained steadfastly broken, and a locked safe was never opened for us.
Never mind – having started off with a picnic-style lunch at Wendy’s apartment – baguette, Bordier butter and cheese, washed down with her favourite rosé from Provence – we reacquainted ourselves with this old pirate enclave by taking a walk around its impressive ramparts.
Then back to Wendy’s for drinks and nibbles before cabbing it to nearby restaurant, Le Bénétin, which is infallibly good.
Our one full day in Saint-Malo included:
* For me, a 10km run (my first in over a week) out of the old city and along the Sillon esplanade to Rochebonne and back. It’s the season for les grandes marées, the infamously high tides that dash gigantic waves against the fortified shoreline; so I had to dodge a few splashes, negotiate puddles and bits of kelp – and run faster to stay warm in the rain – all part of the fun!
* Lunching on savoury galettes (pancakes made from blé noir flour) at Bergamot café in Intramuros
* Joining Flo to watch her eight-year-old daughter, Noémie, play junior rugby – in the rain and freezing wind! – at the grounds of the local St Malo rugby club, of which Wendy is a staunch supporter. Very cute!
* Revisiting the seaside town of Cancale for freshly shucked oysters that you buy in trays. They give you lemon, but you bring your own Tabasco, wine, bread and butter and whatever else takes your fancy. Flo and the kids joined us, and we also met Bokkie and Georgette (originally from Joburg) with their three, who played happily on the beach until the rising tide and falling darkness drove us into one of the many beachfront cafés for more wine (us) and ice cream (them).
* Back to Intramuros and the Lion D’Or restaurant, where everyone knows Wendy. Roy was happy with his traditional-style baked cod, while I was ecstatic about my decadent portion of baked bone-marrow (the bone split lengthwise).
Our last day in France started with birthday champagne and watching Wendy open her presents, before she drove us to Dinard airport for the first leg of our journey to South Africa. We flew from Dinard to Stansted, then took a taxi to the Heathrow Hilton to catch a few hours’ sleep before our indecently early KLM flight to Joburg.
Fortunately, it’s only au revoir to this wonderful country. We’ll be back next summer for our next French adventure, in our own little floating hotel for two.
