Fri 12 Aug 2005
Since we are back in France and our time is running out we made a list of the places we wanted to get to before we left. The good news was that the list was pretty darn small! The bad news was “wow, really? Nothing else to see here?”
Quimper is a town along the west coast about 3 hours from here that is famous for its pottery. We see it everywhere we go, in lots of little towns around here. Even though I have found some beautiful pieces, I have always held off buying anything because I figured there *HAD* to be a better selection in Quimper. You would *THINK* I would be right eh? Not so, I am afraid!
For a town known all over France for its pottery, it sure lacked big time in stores to buy it! Here I thought I was going to have to do some serious sweet talking to Ken so that I can load up, but found nothing all that fantastic to buy.
We visited one of the factories that made it and it was rather interesting. We saw how it went from clay rolls, to shapes, to drying, to painting, and to the finished product. The girls were most fascinated with the painting part. Carissa especially, who wants to be an artist when she grows up! She mentioned this to the lady at the sales counter when she asked what her favorite part was. Speaking of which, here is a funny story for ya….
Everywhere you go, one of the things you always see in this pottery is small bowls painted with flowers and a name painted on the outside. We decided that we would order some for our girls since we had not found any with their names. Not like they have unusual names or anything! 
As I was standing there placing the order with a lady who had to be called over to help in English, Carissa came by and started speaking French to the original sales lady. They talked for a few minutes and then I saw her look around for the mother of this child standing in front of her. When Carissa started talking to me in English, there was a sheer look of bewilderment that came across the sales ladies face! I knew what was going through her mind and sure enough, it came out. “This is *YOUR* child?”
“Why yes, it is!”
“But, but, but… you don’t speak French?”
“No, I speak very BAD French!”
“So how did she learn French? Her father speaks French?”
“Well, just a little.”
At this point she pulls the English speaking sales lady into the conversation and they begin talking about me and my child as if we were not there. The conversation went on and as we joined back in, we told them about the girls attending school and learning French there. They were in shock and told me that her accent was so fantastic that they would have never guessed French was not Carissa’s native tongue.
Window with Quimper pottery flower box.
Since this was supposed to be a weekend trip and Quimper didn’t take up the whole time, we had to find something else to do. We chose to head west and go out to one of the famous points there at the far western edge of France. Soon we realized we were going straight north! (Seems we have a direction problem these days eh?)
Ken’s grandfather always had a saying that I find fun to repeat from time to time (mostly when we are going the wrong way) and that is: “It is a good road. It goes somewhere!”
We finally found a path to drive along the coast to the point we wanted to be at. Soon however, we came upon a sign off to the right announcing a town that I THOUGHT we were just going to pass by. The sign said the town was listed as a “small town of character“. These cities have been hit and miss with us. Some have turned out great, others have been real duds.
We felt adventurous this day and went to check it out. It turned out to be one of the cutest cities we have ever visited in France! The buildings were old and beautiful; the stores were nothing but craft shops, and the flowers were all in bloom. We spent the morning there walking around and taking pictures of the girls, then had a picnic lunch before heading off.
The coast was an interesting sight and we ended up at the (traditional, but not quite actual) western most point of France called Point du Raz. Carissa learned about this in school and said that her teacher called it the “nose” of France. When I agreed with her and said that yes indeed we were on the “nose” she piped up very loudly “Hey look everyone… we’re boogers!!!”
I am glad we had a good time the second day and that it was saved by our “wrong turn” into the city of Locronan. On the way home I began thinking about how we sure have changed. I distinctly remember our trip 3 years ago, to Italy and how I would monitor our every turn with the GPS system making sure we never got off track. Now, we just arm ourselves with a map and go. Sometimes we even hope for a wrong turn so we can find something interesting.
Local Tags: brittany, carissa, celia, cultural differences, France, ken, locranon, point du raz, pottery, quimper, sadie, sandi
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