Usually on this coast with SWerlies we beat out in the morning, reach and run along the coast and then beat back in in the evening. But today the forecast SW 4-5 turned into a 6 with a big swell.(You know the type - loud check suit, stinks of greed and tells feeble dirty jokes while slapping you on the back.) Well we got the slapping, over the bow and onto our heads, but the strain was a bit much for Marcita's delicate ribs and our old bones. However, once round the Pointe de Penmarc'h, which is the boundary between N and W Brittany, we rolled along nicely. We had been planning to go to the Iles de Glenans, a pretty assortment of rocks with a famous sailing school, but didn't fancy an exposed anchorage with the wind and swell, even though it was supposed to lessen in the afternoon, so we opted for Loctudy instead. This is a picturesque village in the estuary of the Pont L'Abbe river, with 18th C chateaux scattered casually about. The money must have come from the time when enormous fleets of goelettes sailed out to the Grand Banks for 6 months to fish for cod. The cod have gone but the chateaux can be yours for the price of a bedsit in Tooting.

2 vignettes from Loctudy: Loic and Caroline being driven away from their wedding in the vast Romanesque church standing up through the roof of an old green deux chevaux, she a vision of loveliness, he a flat-faced doofus looking as though he couldn't believe his luck. Perhaps he has money, but she didn't look like the kind of girl to marry for money. The other, back on the boat, a heron stalking along the pontoon haughtily surveying the well-stocked mullet larder that all the marinas here are, selecting his supper like a gourmet diner choosing his lobster from the restaurant tank.

It is sunny and beautiful but surprisingly cold. We haven't had a day yet without full foulies. The pic is Loctudy at the magic hour when the fish sirens come out to tempt weary sailors into warm rooms smelling of beer and fish. Amazing how successful they usually are.