In the morning, M. Durassier took me on a tour of the major megalithic alignments at Carnac, near the coast. There are four large groups — from west to east, Ménec, Kérabus, Kermario and Kerlescan. In between Kermario and Kerlescan there is a strange quadrilateral assembly of stones, tightly spaced, unlike anything I’ve seen in the U.K., and near it is the largest of the menhirs, an immense phallic stone called “le géant de Mario”. Every stone I’ve seen so far has been the same sort of granite, though most are coated with so much lichen that it’s hard to see the texture. Nothing resembles the bluestone in Wiltshire sites.
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Sunday, April 27, 2014 — In the forests of the Vallée du Blavet
It’s easy to understand why it was so hard for the Romans, and then the French, to conquer Brittany. The land resembles, as I said yesterday, the Ozarks or West Virginia in its basic surface structure. Brittany shares the same North Atlantic winds and currents that turn England into a soggy mess. There are creeks everywhere. Every tree and rock is slimy with moss. The ground cover is thick. There are climbing vines clinging to every deciduous tree. Except where the ground is level, it’s slippery footing — and it’s seldom level. This forest contains an amazing variety of trees. Calling it “mixed forest” is an understatement. Oaks are everywhere, and so are an odd-looking silver birch. There are also spruce and the occasional pine. One large stand of spruce I passed through was particularly creepy, a confusing maze of mist and shadows. Everything about this forest makes for slow going, and the undergrowth quickly swallow up any footpath that isn’t constantly used. Read more »