We arrived home late last night from our week's holiday in Brittany. I awoke this morning with that strange feeling of displacement that you get when you find yourself back in your old familiar bed. I was blissfully comfortable, having slept whilst away on an inflatable mat in a sleeping bag that was either suffocatingly warm or horribly shivery - although that could be down to my age of course. But my head was filled with the normal old noises coming in through the window - the distant roar of the M4 and white vans going off to work all down the street. No more birds singing around us right above our heads, silver birch leaves falling gently onto the roof of the tent, happy little French children playing in the distance. The holiday was over and Mr B was once more rushing off to work. Just flick a switch on the kettle rather than light the camping gas and brush the leaves, slugs and pine needles off the folding table.
We had the most wonderful, brilliant time. We've had some pretty fabulous holidays in our short time together, probably peaking with our honeymoon in the Maldives, but I can honestly say that our week in Brittany was up there with the best of them. We took our bikes and the tent and no plan at all, and found a perfect campsite right on a lake (miraculously with no mozzies whatsoever, although a very loud owl did its best to keep us awake every night). We forgot for a week about work and e-mails and deadlines and had the most relaxing yet energising time ever.
I shall write during the week about some of the amazing sacred sites and ancient stones we visited. I hadn't realised just how many there are in Brittany and we obviously only saw a fraction of them. We have some beautiful photos too - but for now, because I have a vast amount of e-mails and paper mail to deal with, an estate car still packed tight to get to grips with, and a Gathering of my Stonewylders next week to organise, I shall stop here today. I hope you like the photos above, which were taken in a beautiful beech forest near Fougeres.