Back to the boat for the final legs home…we think.
The overnight ferry from Portsmouth to St Malo is the start of our journey back to Heydays where we left her tucked up in Morlaix. They are really marketing it as a mini-cruise with entertainment. We forgo the magician though and decide that the restaurant offers a more suitable way of passing the time. Our cabin turns out to be below the waterline and we try to banish any thoughts of the scenes from Titanic where the steerage passengers (now including our Kate) are struggling to get gates open to the upper decks where the high class passengers don’t get their tootsies wet.
The trains from St Malo to Morlaix are the usual classy french efforts where their 2nd class is better than our dearly beloved (not) GWR 1st. Who says nationalisation doesn’t work? Back on Heydays after just over 2 weeks, is like coming home and we get her ready to lock out of the harbour to take the last of the tide down river while we have enough water.
The river looks even better than before in the late afternoon sun and we follow a couple of local boats as we slalom down the very shallow river (even at high tide).
A Heron eyes us malevolently as we pass. Not sure whether he is cross with us or the egrets nesting just above where he is fishing…
A local sailing boat clearly with local knowledge is sailing through the tortuous route among the rocks and buoys out of the river.
We are slightly more cautious and keep the motor running. However we have nice sail across to Roscoff itself. There are few merits about Roscoff marina, but we can get out at any state of the tide as we begin our trundle East. Having tried a couple of restaurants, it dawns on us that this is Bastille weekend…we eventually sit outside with some tapas, watching the sun going down and the moon and Jupiter rising above the funfair.
The prevailing easterly is chilly once the sun has gone and we warm up with some crepes and hot chocolate while waiting for the fireworks at 11.30. It seems like half of Brittany has descended on Roscoff for the evening and we have a grandstand view of the fireworks over the harbour if slightly bemused that the traditional folk band sings half its repertoire in English…at a Bastille event!