Back to The Beach at Saint Malo

I have a beach obsession.  Call it a call of the ocean perhaps. A need to feel and see the sea.  To be right next to it.  Especially falling asleep to the sounds of waves.

The call is primordial and the connotations are spiritual.  The fluidity, expansiveness, currents and continuity remind me of God, as the depth and breadth forever changing are impossible to know entirely.

The rhythmic motion of the waves and tides mimic life and are birthed and governed by the feminine pull of the moon. The waters are warmed by the masculine energy of the sun.

Teeming with life, much invisible to our eyes, we are left to contemplate the mysticism of it all, like our existence in the universe at large.

This wild and sacred rhapsody of nature;  easily engulfs and nourishes my spirit.  Like the birth of Venus emerging from the whitewashed womb of the sea,   I  feel reborn and energized.  

When I go, I am not interested in staying near it, but to have it in view!   The view is always more important.

I want to feel the sea mist in my face,  and smell the ocean air.  So it goes with me, whenever I even think of going to the coast.

When I was young and more foolishly unaware, laying out baking in the sun was de rigueur.  Now, it’s not the sun I crave, but the energy and sea views.

Saint-Malo is at the moment my go-to beach town, full of intriguing history and gorgeous views   It is a 4-hour drive, or an easy train ride.

There aren’t too many fortressed medieval cities practically dangling in the sea.  There is Mont Saint Michel nearby, a steep climb above with a completely different feel cut off from the mainland in high tides.

Ortigia in Sicily, and Trogir in Croatia I love but obviously necessitating a flight. With the Delta variant on the rise, I would be frightened to get stuck by sudden border restrictions.

Better to stay in France until things are calm again, if ever.  I am not alone, as most of the French are doing the same this summer.  Not much of a sacrifice as France offers quite a diverse array of beautiful land and seascapes.

From mountainous gorges,  dormant volcanos, ancient historical villages, a multitude of islands,  and voluminous sand dunes to high dizzying cliffs plunging down to the sea; France has it all and more.

That plus I am referring to, is preciously fabulous cuisine and wonderful wines to be found in just about all regions, each with their unique tastes and personalities.

Adding to the uniqueness are the many regional dialects and customs still very much alive. Basque, Occitan, Provençal, Savoyard, Breton, Gascon, Alsacien, Lorraine, Catalan, Corsican, Picard, Normand, Franc- Comptois, Poitevin, and others.

Road signs in Brittany are in both Breton and French and yes, you will occasionally hear Breton being spoken.  There are bilingual schools for chiuldren.

I always prefer to rent an Airbnb apartment or dwelling, rather than a hotel, unless it’s only for two nights.

I love to visit the marchés and cook a meal of two, rather than be subjected to industrialized breakfasts one often finds in hotels these days.

By the way, if you want a wonderful small hotel within the old city, The Hotel Albers has really wonderful quality breakfasts!

The apartment I rented was directly overlooking a wide stretch of beach with breathtaking sweeping views from the terrace of Saint Malo in the distance.

I liked the direct access to the sand, but the walk to the ancient Intramuros of Saint Malo was rather far, however beautiful of a walk it was.

The boardwalk was lined with quaint period multistoried houses with ornate rooftops or turrets and white pickets gates in front.  No huge condos here to blight the view!

There were signs to warn of dangerous high tides and waves that leap over the walkway, a real threat during the spring.  Tall knobby wooden posts lined the seawall to break up wave action from high tides that comes in twice a day.

There isn’t any pinnacle of a restaurant that makes Saint-Malo a destination by itself.  The gastronomy is built upon the outstanding freshness of oysters from Cancale, the mussels from Saint Michel, the scallops from Saint Brieuc, north Atlantic fish and the varied crustaceans that go into making the tiered platters of fruits de mer.

I had to return to Cafe de L’Ouest for their soupe aux poissons, one of the best;  rich and decadent topped with rouille, croutons and Emmenthal cheese.

The perfected cooked lieu noir, delicate and translucent as requested, married well with a simple beurre rose citronée garnished with mussels and pretty flowers.

Muscadet is the sole vintage that Brittany can claim, made from melon de Bourgogne grapes grown around Nantes, but goes perfectly with fresh oysters and seafood in general.

The Creme Brulée was a masterpiece! Rich cream and eggs, with little sugar except the wonderful crunchy cassonade set aflame table side caramelized to perfection!

A seagull took a choice spot on top of the umbrella to spy on unattentive diners in hopes of stealing a morsel of their food.

Ferocious screechings made up the background symphony from time to time as battling gulls fought over any tidbits befallen their way.

Another restaurant chosen solely for oysters and raw crustaceans turned out to be enjoyable in meeting a fellow American ex-pat from Dallas, living in Warsaw, Poland.

He too came to relish the oysters and crabs, a much more diligent task than tackling Gulf blue crabs. Edwardo is a teacher and was delighted to be in Europe after 5 difficult years in China, having escaped Covid on the last few planes out.

Meals on the terrace always attracted our resident seagull friend, perching on the terrace rail.  He was talented in appearing to look nonchalantly off, yet keeping a fierce eye on our food.

I was definitely in my slow travel mood as I was perfectly content to just soak up sea sights.   I walked to the old city every day to walk around the ramparts or ramble around the cobblestone streets.

Walking along the water’s edge feeling my feet sink into the wet sand was about as far as I was willing to wade in the turquoise waters.  The North Atlantic is way too cold for me.

There is a famous thalasso spa right on the boardwalk that offers all sorts of well-being and beauty treatments for pampering yourself.

No desire to visit museums or historical monuments either.  Another time.  The seascapes were exactly what I wanted and needed night or day.

A children’s regional Rugby tournament played barefoot on the beach was even interesting to watch.

 

No need for the car either other than getting there,  unless you want to travel around the coast, as Saint-Malo is for pedestrians only.  There is a good bus network to explore beyond if desired.

I’ll be back for sure, perhaps in the fall.