This small port’s name is undoubtedly the best thing about it.

We held the image of a delightful, refined French town by the sea with us during the 60 mile trip around from Roscoff, through the Chenal du Four and it even lasted for a short time on arrival.  We spent the warm sunny evening having a well-earned G&T and eating on board.

However . . .

On Sunday, following a lazy morning on board listening to a live concert of very enjoyable music on the quay, we decided to venture out for a walk and a late lunch.

The moules-frites were very tasty.  The rosé cold and refreshing.

We were unsure though, which was the worst thing about the town, the traffic or the people.

To cap it off our berth in the marina turned into a swell-fest with the tide pushing us back and forth and ramming us onto the pontoon.

We went to bed and tried to sleep and ignore the constant movement only to discover that the entire ensemble of passengers aboard a Polish “Cruise Liner” that had docked at the end of the pontoon, were not going to sleep until they had exhausted their surprisingly large repertoire of polish folk songs!

Let’s just say we won’t be making a return visit in the near future, either by boat or car.