the past few weeks have been incredibly busy: work, several volunteer commitments, and life in general, not to mention having to deal with my car being rear-ended (long story).
so, i'm attempting to decompress by wandering through memories of time spent living in western france a few years ago. among the thousands of photos still in need of triage is this relaxing reminder of a quieter moment in a tiny town named Huelgoat.
as is my wont when traveling, most travel days are spent not knowing where i'm going nor how long i will spend. the car is pointed in a random direction, then goaded into moving in that direction until something interesting is spotted, or on a whim, direction changes.
on this particular morning, i had driven west towards the city of Morlaix, then south into the rolling hills. the experience of meandering slowly through those fertile green lands should be bottled and marketed as a cure for whatever ails.
the day was as picture-perfect as you can ask for, so when it looked like Huelgoat was a place of interest, some rambling was in order.
Over the next two hours, I had discovered Le Champignon (the Mushroom), La Grotte du Diable (the Devil's Grotto), and La Grotte d'Artus (the Grotto of Arthur). The Mushroom is a Very Large Boulder that has somehow become married to a much smaller boulder in a way that looks like an overgrown mushroom. The grottos are part of a trail that wanders through the countryside, to occasionally hike underneath more impressively large boulders that did not quite succeed in burying a creek. If memory serves, the deepest is around 10 metres below the surface boulders, requiring several ladder-aided (and not completely-safe) descents to reach.
What I wouldn't give to be relaxing there right now... :)
photo perspective: my vehicle is parked behind me along the south shoreline, and the camera is facing generically east towards the "highway" bridge over a creek.
No comments:
Post a Comment