27.5.2013 – Dinan
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| Dinan |
Narrow streets of
ancient stone - reminds me of Kirkwall, and brings back my old skills at
sharing the street at close quarters with cars.
Grey buildings twisting uphill – reminds me of Stirling. Oak-framed houses, tottering over the cobbles
– reminds me of York.
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| Bell Tower |
Put it all together –
Dinan. A place where quaintness is an
art form. Cobbles, city walls, an
ancient clock tower we climbed, stone stairs giving way to wooden ladders and
then to a trap door leading to a balcony high above the city. It warned you all the way up to hold on tight
if the huge bell rang as it did every 15 minutes. Nerve-wracking. 12th. Century church, sunlight
through stained glass rainbowing the floor.
Carved columns, gold edged altars.
Down the road is Port
de Dinan. This is on the upper reaches
of the River Rance, but still navigable, as the numerous craft tied alongside
the river’s edge demonstrate. A
beautiful viaduct takes the road to Rennes high above the water; a much older,
curved stone bridge takes strollers from one side to the other, so that they
can choose from the myriad of cafes, restaurants and bistros lining the river
banks. We stop at one for our now
familiar meal of crepe-with-everything.  |
| Port de Dinan |
The road stretches
homewards; the evening sun touches the ripening fields on either side,
brightens the little villages, here and there a thatched cottage.
We took our tent down
this afternoon, all but the bedroom section.
Folded and packed it in the heat of the sun. All neat, tidy and clean for its next outing,
who knows where or when, but hopefully soon.
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| Yes, well.... |
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