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In Which One Small Village Of Indomitable Gauls Still Holds Out Against The Invaders

August 15, 2007 by Mike

Plougrescant

Route: Langueux - (back to) Erquy - Langueux - Paimpol - Lanmodez - Treguier - Plougrescant

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I've ridden about 17,000 miles so far on this trip. Today was the first time I retraced some of the route because I'd missed something the day before.

(I miss lots - the price I pay for following my nose rather than a guidebook. The only time I've been tempted to go back was way back in Finland when I realised I was 100 miles beyond the Rukka factory shop and the chance to buy the best biking clothes in the world at a discounted - and therefore remotely affordable -- price. But I didn't.)

But yes, today I went back, 30 miles or so, because... [cue drum roll]... Erquy may, just may, be the site of Asterix's village. You know the one - a small village of indomitable Gauls [which] still holds out against the invaders.

Following extensive online research I read last night that Uderzo, the artist of Asterix, spent the war years near Erquy. Consciously or not, there's a lot of Erquy in the little Gaulish village we know so well. There are a few pointers in the lay-out of the village, specifically the beach and bay, the small rocks just off the shore and the island a few 100 metres out.. you'll recognise them if you've read the books as often as I have.. and if you have, you'd have made the same pilgrimage I made today.

[I did a bit of filming there, so stay tuned for a year or so while I get round to editing that and posting it on the site.]

Local people are aware of the claims. Some denied it -- "It's just a story," one man told me. JUST A STORY?? ASTERIX??? Others were quietly proud of the connection. All I can say is, despite the apparent lack of wild boar or menhirs in the immediate area, it definitely felt a bit special.

But don't take my word for it. Northwest France has been invaded by hordes of Italians this summer. They are inescapable in every town and village, every tourist spot and car park, on every beach and generally pottering as slow as glue wherever crowds gather and other people may wish to walk at something approaching normal pace.. *except in Erquy*. I spotted a solitary motorhome on the streets -- it's windows closed and curtains drawn, clearly deserted by petrified Roman legionnar-- I mean Italian tourists. Proof!

--

After Erquy, the rest of the day was never going to keep up. I made it past last night's stop, but not by much. Treguier is idyllic, mediaeval streets nestled besides a fast-running river. There was no space at the inn, though, so I ploughed on to Plougrescant and my first taste of B&B a la francaise -- "Chambre d'hote." And I'm deep into Brittany now.

Some of the street names in Plougrescant:
Crec'h Negaret Hent Prat Ledan
Garec Soul Hent Pors Bugalez
Hent Ty Nevez
Keravel Braz
Lizildry Hent Landreger
Min Guen Hent Crec'h Louarn
Rojo Wenn Hent Pors Scaff

Blimey. And I thought my French was getting quite good.

I retired early with a book of Breton proverbs:

Girls and oysters would make stone produce cider
Ar merc'hed hag an istr
A rafe d'ar vein ober chistr.

When there is snow on the ground,
it is neither hot nor damp.
Pa vez an erc'h war an douar
Ne vez na tomm na klouar.

It is the worst worm of the cart that squeaks first.
Fallañ ibil a zo er c'harr a wigour da gentañ.

Perhaps not surprisingly, I fell asleep.

--

Ooops. Nearly forgot. Zavatta Watch
Gino! Gino! Gino! Yes, I'm in a town, Plougrescant, where the Gino Zavatta circus arrives tomorrow. I'm going to try to find someone who can explain Gino's relationship with Stephan, Achille, Thierry and Francesco.

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