headache

Just spent two days in Quimperlé preparing for an event next week and looking at chapels for the Tro Breiz project (http://www.trobreizproject.blogspot.com/). In the 11th century crypt of the Abbey of Saint-Croix is the tomb of St Gurloes, a holy man providing useful everyday kind of services: curing headache and backache a speciality, just crawl underneath or stick your head in the appropriate hole. They are all so practical, these Breton saints. In the background you can just about see a capital with four open pillars at the top for tying up mad people to benefit from a few hours in the vicinity of sanctity. But never a sniff of help for the broken heart. That's religion for you.

A chink of light

Much heartened by listening to Michael Dodds (new head of tourism in Brittany) speak in Carhaix last night. The mix of focus and vision he outlined should have breathed some life into those of the large audience with ears to hear. Quite a few came simply to make their own mini-speeches and then leave, an indication of the narrowness of perspective that bedevils the whole show. Diversity is certainly the essence of Brittany's strength in the competitive tourist market, as I have been preaching for the last seven years - in fact it's conceivable that every person involved in every level of promotion and services here might agree on that. The problem is that that very diversity engenders a fragmentation of vision and a tightening of self-interest and parochial values that ties the whole parcel up in impossible knots rather than unwrapping it seductively for the punters. If people would only stop harping on about what they have and concentrate on what they can give, we might all get somewhere. The common ground or at the very least a modular connection between divergent interests is worth striving for.
I'm starting to work on a Food in Finistere themed trail which will promote by linkage a wide gamut of cultivators and producers: whether I can stir the least interest in relevant tourist organisations remains to be seen. But personally I felt yesterday that at last all my efforts might be reflected on a bigger stage by much more influential people, and that maybe I was in the right place at the right time after all.

Missionary zeal in Brittany

After the tedium of the Council of Trent and the furor of the Wars of Religion, Brittany was well set for a religious revivial in the early 17th century. The magnificence of the parish closes and the outbreak of convent-building (Ursulines, Carmelites, Calveriennes, etc.) are well-known, but less attention is given to the widespread activities of missionaries in the region.
Michel le Nobletz from Plouguerneau, called the Lunatic priest for his eccentric delivery and semi-masochistic lifestyle, devised the use of "taolennou", pictorial maps of faith painted on sheep-skin or sometimes wood, to reach the minds and souls of illiterate Breton peasants who had wandered from the Catholic fold or never been rounded up in the first place. These proved remarkably effective and his relentless efforts over many years throughout Basse Bretagne did much to regenerate the religious devotion which has somehow wormed its way into the fabric of Breton identity.
But the man he chose to succeed him in this noble work, Julien Maunoir, came from eastern Brittany, north of Rennes, and therefore was burdened by the fundamental handicap of not speaking Breton. Fortunately God intervened at this point, and as Maunoir prayed in the Chapel of Ty Mamm Doué, an angel appeared and touched him on the lips, giving him the gift of that bythronic language. A huge painting in Quimper cathedral records this miracle.
I can just picture the scene as he toiled away by candlelight each night with a grammar and the help of a real Breton servant. 'No, your reverence, I really think you must labour a little more at those mutated consonants before we announce the angel's visit.'
One can't help admiring those tricksy Jesuits.....

Chateau de Kerjean

Currently working on promotion for this chateau, which deserves attention not only for the architectural and historical interest, but also for the fine presentation of the site. They have a creditable and clear vision of integration between the essential value of the building itself and its use as a context for presentation: excellent exhibitions, shows, performances, etc.

The new offering for 2009 looks at festivities and celebrations from the Renaissance, promising fun and lively information in a carefully staged setting. Rites of passage, religious festivals, tournaments and Carnival all lend their colours, lights, sounds and tastes to this highly recommended exhibition, which opens on March 27 and continues until November 8th.

Snow in the wild west

The lane by my house, playful dogs, plus the main hamlet across the fields.

Saints and stone boats

The earliest saints are said to have arrived on the shores of western Brittany in stone boats. A simple confusion of Latin cumba (coracle type boat) and old Breton koumm (a valley and therefore, trough)? Above, St Budoc rides the waves near Porspoder in his trough. It occurs to me that this rich vein has not yet been exploited by garden gnome manufacturers.

Hell

I am increasingly fascintated by the iconography of Catholicism in Basse Bretagne. Tomorrow I'm taking a group to some of the best of the parish closes in northern Finistere. Above is a scene from the extraordinary calvaire at Guimiliau. It shows the naked figure of Katel Gollet (Katherine the Witless) ensnared by demons and drawn into the gaping monster mouth of Hell for her sins. Which were? An over fondness for dancing.

domini cani

Enclos paroissial

The parish close is a phenomenon mostly concentrated in northern Finistere, and largely the result of an influx of wealth from the linen trade with England. The elaborate, often theatrical, architectural form also became a kind of competitive sport as villages vied with one another for the most flamboyant display. The essential elements of church, sacristy, triumphal arch, calvary and ossuary (some still containing bones) were contained within a precinct wall to keep out wandering animals and mark the territory of the dead. Most extraordinary element was the calvaire, artistically educational, designed to teach the story of life, death and resurrection in a sophisticated granite cartoon strip often containing dozens of scenes and hundreds of finely drawn figures.

hydro phobia

Today was the first outing for my superb new walking boots, which arrived yesterday after a nightmare of searching, ordering, being told that 'in stock' actually means arriving in February, or that my feet are unreasonably small and therefore not 'normally' catered for. England is clearly increasingly full of cart-horses. Thanks to the efficient and good-humoured staff at Cave and Crag (http://www.cave-crag.co.uk/ - thanks, Dave :-)) who rushed out a pair within hours of my plea, the great day is here and what a walk I had on the soupy, sloppy December moors, with dry and warm feet.

I have come back to my all-time favourite, the Hi Tec light-weight range - best on the market imo - by buying the new Altitude Ion Mask boots, excruciatingly called 'a breakthrough in surface enhancement'. Using a magnifying glass to check out details on the label of this 'quantum leap in footwear technology' I discover that the boots are not only waterproof but also hydro phobic - with the many problems water is already facing all over the world, I hope environmentalists will act quickly to nip this alarming new phenomenon in the bud.

Sarkozy & Breton reunification

At the congress of French mayors in Nantes, Nicolas Sarkozy raises the reunification issue, apparently in a light-hearted aside, but he is too politically astute - notable lapse in marrying Carla Bruni notwithstanding - to draw attention where he does not relish the spotlight falling. His pre-election contemptuous dismissal of Bretons might yet have a worthwhile payoff.
Nantes was the ducal capital of Brittany from the 10th century, finally severed from its body by the Vichy government in 1941 and enshrined as head of the new region Loire Atlantique in 1957. Symbolic and historical significance aside, the economic repercussions of losing Brittany's main industrial concentration overnight were severe, despite later investment in the four remaining departments, Finistere, Cotes du Nord (now more seductively titled Cotes d'Armor, but not d'Armour as many British incomers call it), Morbihan and Ille-et-Vilaine.
B5 (the 'true' Brittany of 5 departments) is a rallying cry by the re-unifcationists. Good luck to them, even if it is necessary to get into bed with the likes of Sarkozy to achieve their end. It is after all an act of peculiar cultural barbarism to severe a capital city from its region. One of the many reasons for lauding the patrimoine of the Nantes-Brest canal is that this old waterway remains a physical link between the two parts of historic Brittany. You can read all about this in my latest book, Crossing Brittany.....................

Monday's Megaliths - Carnac

Back in Brittany, I spent a day at Carnac with my good friend Jane Brayne, artist and archaeological illustrator (from Meet the Ancestors fame, and also well-known for her work on Avebury and Stonehenge) who has dashed back with me from England to do some preparation for an exciting new project. As the weather was appalling, we were the only people on site: I had forgotten how moving the experience can be without the hordes.

My new book is out

Crossing Brittany is finally out! Fingers crossed for pre-Xmas sales :-)

England

Making a rare visit to England, and most vivid impressions so far are of stunning Somerset landscapes and the appalling volume of rural traffic. It's rather refreshing to have reached London in my travels and at last be able to drive as nature intended.

Experiencing history

I used to think that the attraction of the past was its contrast with the present world, the separation of time and custom lending an aura of excited speculation. This lure of the evident spiced by fantasy was in the castle's turret stair and the lie of standing stones. After years of writing guidebooks and escorting visits of historical interest, I see rather that for most the thrill is in connection. Provide a link, however tenuous, to the contemporary world or to the particular historical framework of the audience, and the appetite of the imagination cranks up mightily. Here in Brittany so much is lost for the British audience by tedious and tortuous exposition of French history which might as well be an account of warfaring factions in Lord of the Rings. A sea skirmish off the coast west of Brest doesn't do a lot to pull in the punters until mention of the magic words 'Mary Rose' - then watch the line of craning necks on the cliff-top - even though there is nothing to see but the skittish Atlantic - and hear the avid speculations about wind-speed and turning circles for 16th century craft.
Brittany is a special case in this respect: the connections between Britons and Bretons are all-pervasive. Hence my chosen structure for the Britons in Brittany book: conflict, commerce, culture. From Ben Nicholson's modernist renderings of the Carnac megaliths to the 17th century export of cloth from Locronan via Pouldavid (hence the English name Powell Davies for the fabric!) to the allied bombing of the Morlaix viaduct that managed to wipe out a school full of children. What tales there are to tell, and what a trail to follow around some of the most interesting places France has to offer.

website blues

My website has been out of action for nearly four weeks now. The hosting company Another Light took it down for non-payment of renewal. Unfortunately they sent the reminder, not to the current email they have in their records, but to a very old address. They have not responded to any of dozens of messages requesting the code without which I cannot move the site to another host. They are obliged to give me this, even if they can make me forfeit a year's rental. But nothing. And the next stage, an appeal to the registrar of sites has also remained completely unanswered for two weeks. Therefore not only have I lost my professional showcase, but I am unable to do anything to get it back. My only option is to change the domain name, which I am very reluctant to do, and not only because of all the stationery to be changed and people to inform, etc. I cannot wait until the resolution of a long appeals process - that is, if anyone ever takes policing of the net seriously for long enough to write me a message.

OK, after a weekend of thought, I give in. New site - (holding pages for the moment) - at http://www.wendymewes.com/

Rennes

Two days in Rennes, capital of modern Brittany, this week. It's not a city I feel especially at ease in, finding it less engaging than Nantes or Vannes, despite the breath-taking range of innovative architectural concepts. Religious buildings are varied and omni-present, likewise medieval colombage houses of many colours, but Rennes is hard to get hold of in a single grasp, slipping and shimmying away as the visitor grapples with each of its many salient parts.

I am pleased to meet up again with Pierrick Gavaud from Randobreizh to discuss my association's Days of Discovery event for September 2009, and with Michael Dodds, new head of tourism, who is generous with his time and attention to the possibilities of my Britons in Brittany project.

Saint Tex

Today is Tex's first birthday. What a fine little dog he has turned out to be!

As it is All Saints Day, I also honour with many tears my beloved lurcher Rufus, light of my life, who died last December, lovingly missed each and every day.

Michelin Green Guide to Brittany

I'm pleased to hear that two of my books are to be in the recommended reading list of the new edition of this prestigious book. The selection is interesting: Discovering the History of Brittany is an obvious choice, but the other is The Five of Cups, my novel set in the Monts d'Arrée. In fact, however, only the other day I had a letter from a reader saying she was planning a holiday in Brittany on the strength of the descriptions and atmosphere in that tale, so perhaps it's not strange after all. I always thought the cover would make a good tourist poster.

Day 26

Day 26 on my 28-day detox régime. So no meat, fish, dairy, eggs, wheat, tea, coffee, alcohol or sugar for the duration. There's no limit on eating, only on what is eaten. It is sadly true that this does make a hugely positive difference to how one thinks, feels, moves and sleeps. But too limited and boring to adopt for life - my once a year stint is quite enough. This time I've been very good, with few lapses, just the odd cup of black coffee or sip of diet coke when cooking (I use the term loosely, because endless chopping of vegetables and fruit lacks creativity after the first five days). Not quite! A friend was buying me lunch on a shopping trip to Ikea this week and in the absence of anything totally suitable, I had one slice of smoked salmon with my rye bread and lettuce leaves. She had meat balls, chips and chocolate-almond cake. But the point is that because of this régime, I had plenty of energy for four hours in Ikea, whereas usually I would have wanted to sit down after twenty minutes or eat cake or hit people in those circumstances.