Keranot

I am still struggling with my Hudl camera - or rather cameras. (Do I really need two?) Caroline forgot her glasses, so had to bike back down "our" lane to fetch them, giving me this opportunity to have another try.

Incidentally, one of our perennial gripes about going on holiday was how feeble the bulbs were in other people's bedside lights. Now, thanks to tablets, it's no longer a problem.

Were there a best kept hamlet competition in Leon, Keranot would never make the short list. It consists of some half dozen houses at the end of a no through road, the steep route down to the mill now impassable except on foot. As the sign indicates, cars need to make a detour. We walked down the other evening, discovering amongst the trees a secret garden wedged between the Koad Toulzac'h river and the mill race. M. Louis Lapous still mills, but not wheat: only oats. His creme d'avoine seems widely known around Finistere. (No more room in our panniers though!)

Specs recovered, we cycled off to Saint-Thegonnec for lunch with friends who live on the coast. Upon entering the Restaurant du Commerce, its car park replete with white vans, I felt some 40 pairs of workmen's eyes trained on the four of us.

"Ars et Fides"

This European association of associations exists to promote religious buildings as vehicles for a living Christian community to use for prayer. I came across it for the first time today, here in Brittany when a badge-carrying young woman at Sizun asked whether we would like a guided tour of the beautiful Parish Close. She was spending the month there as a volunteer with SPREV, the French member association of Ars et Fides. No bible bashing is very much the rule of the game, she told us, having solved a number of tricky art historical puzzles for us with ease and charm.

My photograph shows our jolly, saxophonist landlord, even more bemused than me by my Hudl camera.