Shellfish-phobes Look Away Now

Sigh, the holiday is slipping away... Second last day, so might as well show you where we've been staying the last ten days, just opposite the St Vincent Chapel out in the absolute middle of nowhere. But there wasn't much time hanging around here this morning, given the days running out we were off to one of our favourite places from the trip, Pont-Aven, the place where Gauguin used to hang out, for another dose of prettiness (oh, and found some French whisky - proper single malt stuff, from the Belle-Ile-en-Mer in the Golfe du Morbihan. The lady in the shop assures me that with it being made with sea water there's a unique, and nice, taste to it).

Next on the list of things-to-do-before-we-leave was the shot above. This area is really well known for its seafood, and especially its oysters. And one of the best places to sample it, we were told, was Bélon (with a type of oyster named after it), and the innocuous Chez Jacky. It was a fab wee place, filled with French people, save for us and a German motorcycling couple. There was one little table on the outdoor bit where we sat which lay empty, reserved for later. The American couple who arrived had, it turns out, booked the table in order to sit and have an argument over Blackberry use while on holiday, then sulk at each other over their huge plate of oysters, and check Blackberrys for messages while waiting for the bill, before leaving in less than an hour (we were there for two).

The two types of oyster were stunningly good (I'm not normally an oyster fan, but I'm being converted); both large and small crabs were devoured; lovely sweet langoustine went the same way; teeny brown shrimp were just superb; mussels were great; the clams weren't half bad; the whelks were... oh... erm... no, didn't like them I'm afraid. A massive plate, a lot of cash for lunch, but worth every slurp of shellfish that was probably picked up from a mile-radius (at most) just that morning.

But the day was not over there, oh no, not when we only have one full day left. So inland to Quimper where Mel wanted to get some faïence (a type of pottery the place is famous for) from one of the oldest manufacturers around, and one of the only ones where the pottery is still handpainted (the tourist shops are full to bursting of cheap stuff).

The Cathedral there was pretty impressive (as some Slipknot fans rocked out at the door); but not nearly as impressive as the stained glass inside. A wee wander of the Quimper streets, buying some macaroons from, allegedly, the best maker in the country (he's won awards an everything), before slipping into the town's musem, made for a busy day.

But still it didn't finish as we decided to head back to the coast and take in the sunset at Trevignon, a pretty little harbour village, with a rocky outcrop to walk out onto.

Where does the time go....?