SIX

DAYS

IN

MAY by Lyn Peek

At home recovering from a bout of summer flu, with Graham busy painting the Sistine Chapel (what our refurbished sitting room is turning into) I have had time to reminisce about Anglemog's latest adventure in Brittany.

    A month prior to departure, in between sorting out an action packed itinerary with Eric (the other half of Peak & Hoile tours), I had rewritten the list of clothes to pack for our long weekend break. It had started with thick jumpers; waterproofs and flying jacket and had ended with T shirts, silk jackets, sunglasses and suntan oil as summer skies and hot weather appeared by magic.

We all know, don't we girls, the skill involved in turning one suitcase which will fit onto the back of a Morgan, into a tardis containing two weeks supply of clothes for two people. I know it was only 6 days but there are all these 'just in case' clothes which have to be fitted in - just in case it rains; just in case there is a heatwave; just in case we need something 'dressy'. Graham ended up with just enough room for his smalls!

Wednesday 13th May

    J14 MOG had been MOT'd; serviced; new sports exhaust fitted; cleaned, polished and filled with petrol. Sitting in the garage, sunshine sparkling on the chrome, suitcase on the back, maps stowed, spare wire coathangers under the passenger seat (hotel wardrobes never have enough hangers) detailed itinerary in waterproof folder and………it wouldn't start.

    The gang (15 people in 9 cars) with the exception of Cheryl & Dudley and Vivienne and Ken, who were to meet us at Portsmouth, were gathering at the Boars Head PH in Herongate for lunch, before the off. In addition, Dennis and Sylvia O'Neil and Eddie and Pat Collins from Normog, who were also travelling to Brittany that day had also arranged to meet us all for lunch. I rang the pub.

    "Are there any Morgans in the car park?" I politely enquired. "How should I know" came the less than helpful reply from the barmaid. Life must be difficult for someone with just one brain cell. Jumping in my TRUSTY SPITFIRE I arrived at the pub as the Normog contingent were leaving. I explained our fuel pump had packed up. "I have a spare in the back" offered Dennis. "Oh don't worry, Graham has gone out to buy one" I blithely replied. "We'll see you at the car museum in Loheac"

    I left the Anglemoggers tucking into lunch, extracted a promise of a postcard and wished them a good holiday, to return home. No Graham. At 2.30pm he arrived having searched the length and breadth of Essex for a fuel pump only to be met with the repeated response ?"Can get you one tomorrow sir". Reaching for the Yellow Pages, I chillingly asked what he was doing ? if he could track one down, collect it and fit it, we would miss the *!@!! Ferry.

    Air cleared, the Morgan was summarily unpacked and luggage stowed in a very dirty Mondeo (I could have taken more clothes had I known!) and with the sun still twinkling on the chrome, the garage door slammed shut.

 We had a quiet drive down to Portsmouth.

    Arriving at the planned tea stop at a Little Chef, just outside the port, we received a sympathetic welcome, brightened by Lynne's comment "at least you will be able to carry all our wine back for us".

    Being in the "support car" we had to park on the upper deck but there was a silver lining to this cloud, as I was first in the a la carte restaurant to book a table for 15 at 8.30pm. The Anglemog Mobile Luncheon Club is very much alive, has even more members now.

    After a superb meal, with Vivienne circling the seafood buffet like a basking shark and Paul sampling every single dessert on the trolley, we made off to boogie on down in the disco (well by that time the shops were closed). Is this what they call garage music asked a bemused Graham as six teenage lads and most of Anglemog bounced round the floor.

Thursday 14th May

    Arriving at 8.00am in St. Malo I could still hear the steady thump of the disco beat; no the steady pounding of my blood pressure, no……it was the steady bellow of a foghorn.

    The itinerary said "Head for Intra Muros - inside the Rampart walls". What walls, couldn't see any walls or any other Morgans for that matter, just thick fog. When we did find them, we had a 20 minute wait whilst the bridge was opened for water traffic, before crossing over to the old town. At least it was cosy and dry in the Mondeo!

    My map didn't indicate a one way system inside St Malo but at last after trial and error we enjoyed a traditional petite dejeuner, followed by a quick recce of the shops and a brisk walk round the walls, whilst most of the inhabitants of St. Malo took photos of the belle voitures parked under the plane trees near the Mussee de la Ville.

    I had made a lunch reservation at Le Continental, at Cancale on the recommendation of Arthur Eperon. I had explained that their four course lunch looked wonderful but we were on a tight schedule and were looking to enjoy a plateau de fruits de mer with a glass of Muscadet. Whatever you wish, we will arrange came the helpful reply. So, we left St. Malo for the scenic coastal drive to Cancale. We couldn't see the rugged cliffs, or the sea, just cloying fingers of fog stretching inland across the road. Just outside Cancale we stopped and clambered down the coastal path to Pointe du Grouin to take in the view... and the sun came out. From then on the sun shone and the temperature did not drop below 70 degrees for the rest of our stay.

    Cancale is the oldest and most important breeding centre for Oysters in Brittany, and this small busy fishing village stretches out along the coastline. We were very grateful to the Patron of Le Continental who parked us on a private stretch of the quayside overlooking the oyster beds. Seeing him walking briskly along the road, arm in the air, with eight morgans driving behind at 5 mph will remain in my memory for some time. In the restaurant, a tong table had been laid, twinkling with crystal, fresh flowers and the windows opened to the sea. The itinerary said, depart 1.45pm, we left at 3.30pm having eaten our way through a superb seafood menu and the Muscadet? If it was good enough for Jacques Chirac when he ate at Le Continental - it was good enough for Anglemog.

    We left Cancale amidst a cacophony of car horns, waving at Le Patron and applause from hotidaymakers lining the road and made our way to Mont Dot to take in the 360 degree view across the polders to Mont St. Michel The energetic climbed the old signalling tower and we admired the chapel and 19th century windmills and then on through Comborg, Hede, St. Aubin, Chateaubourg the Hotel Pen Roc at St. Didier.

Friday 15th May

Monsieur et Madame Froc who own the Hotel Pen Roc were charming and extremely helpful as Were the staff, whom Vivienne kept muddling up by eating everybody elses food. The hotel is a Retais du Silence but with a swimming pool, sauna and gymnasium and with Anglemog about, that soon changed. It was a good thing that they had a separate dining room for us or they might have had some complaints from the other guests. The hotel was extremely comfortable, safe carparking and excellent cuisine ensured A very happy crowd. We would strongly recommend, this as a base for Morgan owners, book through VFB who organised a group