This morning dawns bright and the view is far more attractive for it.

Ali goes to see the owner, who needlessly apologises for being so busy yesterday, and has all the time in the world this morning. The farm has 20 hectares of orchard and the trees are kept in rotation; some new, some bearing fruit and some being pruned. They make cider, cider-vinegar and apple juice. A presentation pack of 3 bottles of choice is €6.50. Ali has just returned to the van when Madame appears and invites us to see the 'cidrerie'. Vats, pipes and pumps are housed in large shed that smells of apples.

We have a pleasant ride to Merdrignac, a ville fleuri, with its hydrangeas and geraniums vividly colouring the town, but a roundabout on its outskirts is littered with the remains of burnt hay bales from a recent farmers' protest.

We eat the baguettes bought from the market, which was just closing, then follow the diversions around Loudeac, through Mur de Bretagne and into the village of St Aignan where we park in the Aire beside the church car park. We came here about 20 years ago when the village was quite scruffy and run down, but now it is very smart and the area around the church, previously a sandy waste is paved and planted very attractively.

Our visit has a purpose; Lac Guerledan has ben drained for maintenance on its hydroelectric barrage. Last done 30 years ago, modifications will mean it won't be drained again in the foreseeable future. The Tourist Info provides a map of the viewpoints and routes for this curiosity.

We walk through woods to the bottom of the barrage [dam] and then up steep roads to where the lakeside would normally be, but our journey is interrupted when we find a bar and stop for refreshment. While resting we meet a couple from Yorkshire now living just across the road and they are such good company we stay for an extra drink.

Another mile brings us to the viewpoint. It is very impressive. When we were last here the lake stretched as far as the eye could see. The former valley re-emerged over 6 weeks of draining and through the summer vegetation has taken hold on the steep sides. At the bottom, 130 feet below us, the river Blavet snakes along where it was once part of the Nantes-Brest Canal. A man-made structure, once a lock, is clear to see.

Back in St Aignan we have a look around the village and find a creperie but our hopes for dinner are dashed when we see that it doesn't open on Wednesday, so it's back to the van instead.