There was plenty of wind for these land yachts.
We saw many windmills and remains of windmills during our drive. I was pleased with how this photo came out, considering I took it from inside the car, through the window glass and going about 60 kilometers/hour.
Here I was trying to capture typical Breton stone houses, but I also got in the shot our navigating system, one of those things we don't know how people did without when living abroad. Another is the internet, but we'll save that discussion for another time. This is actually our third navi. The first, and still the one we judge other navigators by, was perfect, but its screen was smashed when I threw my purse to the floor one day, having forgotten that the navigator was inside. The second one is pictured here and the third is built into my Corolla. I would not have survived living in Germany without a navi. My first two weeks here, I got lost every time I left the house and not knowing the rules of the road or being familiar with road signs, it was actually rather dangerous out there for me and my fellow drivers.
I'm not sure how popular navis are in the U.S., but most drivers here in Germany have them, and not just the expatriates. These old roads can be confusing, plus a good navi can get you out of a non-moving traffic jam and to your destination with an alternate route, as we discovered driving down to Rothenburg one day. Navis are worth their weight in gold.
Our first stop was Pointe du Grouin with its film-gobbling views and winding walking paths. In fact, there are 360 miles of walking paths along the Breton coast. We could have walked the 45 miles of coastal path from Mont St. Michel to St. Malo, our last stop along the coast, but for some reason, I don't think the kids would have gone for it.
This rock outcrop points out and protects the entrance into the bay of Mont Saint Michel.
We watched this boat approach shore from far out in the sea and then turn and sail in between us on shore and the Isle des Landes. This is my favorite shot of the day. 
The next stop was Ile Besnard and Dunes de Chevets, a sandy beach arcing alongside a crescent bay. There was no way we could keep shoes on anyone.
James skipping rocks
Two little cutie pies in a tide pool. The kids were hoping to find all sorts of goodies in the little pools, but, alas, all their were were periwinkles.All along our trip, I have been reminiscing about my junior year abroad here and, for the most part, the kids are a descent audience. They love the story of how Maud, Marc and I ran over a rabbit on the way home from a party, picked it up, brought it home, put it out of its misery, and then ate it for Sunday dinner the next day.
The periwinkles reminded me of how my college friend Jackie and I had hitchhiked from Rennes up into Normandy one weekend. Hitchhiking was common 25 years ago, but I have only seen a handful of people hitching a ride in Germany in almost 2 years. Just during this last week in France, I've seen 2 or 3 people with their thumbs out on the side of the road, so maybe it's still done in France. During that year, Jackie and I hitched all around France, Belgium and England and the people who picked us up were either very friendly, or just had space in their car, so why not give someone a ride, but they weren't interested in conversation.
That time to Normandy, Jackie and I were picked up by two fellows from Rennes and upon arriving in Normandy, they insisted on taking us out to lunch. We ended up in a nice restaurant were we ate fruits de mer, a seafood platter that included, among other things, little periwinkles. As a little girl, I had played with these little snails at the beach and had no idea that people actually ate them. Our companions had to show us how you dug the poor creature out of its shell with a toothpick and then dipped it in mayonnaise or another sauce before popping it into your mouth.
What was particularly memorable about that meal was how the restaurant was technically closed when we arrived between lunch and dinner time, but our charming Breton friends persuaded the Maître d' to serve us, using the fact that Jackie and I were American and they wanted to show us a real French meal as the main argument. And then one of the main point of discussion was the American TV show Dallas, and when one of friends was wracking his brain for the name of one of the characters, a waiter from across the room murmured helpfully, "Bobby."
The littlest girls and me, with my older kids in the distance
Who can resist scrambling up huge rocks?
David and the girls
Enjoying the view
Climbing back down again. This is the type of sightseeing our kids enjoy most.
We drove through the beach resort of St. Malo, but didn't stop. We put it on our list of places to revisit, however.
Our last stop before heading home to Rennes was Dinan, with Brittany's best medieval town center. These walls and 120-foot-high keep are all that's left of Dinan's once massive castle. Ramparts once encircled the city.
Walking to the town center
This tombstone without a head is the town mascot. It's actually a prefab tombstone, made during the Hundred Year's War (1337-1453), when there was more death than money in France. A portrait bust would be attached to this generic body for a proper, yet economical, burial.
Walking through an old town always makes us want to eat some ice cream.
Madame Foucher had fireplace-grilled sausages waiting for us when we arrived home.
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