This morning dawns as forecast; grey and showery.

Before our breakdown we had plans to visit Annick and family in Brest but with driving straight to Roscoff we had to cancel them. Annick has said she will drive up here so we can see each other for a few hours. By lunchtime the weather has deteriorated with torrential rain and very strong north easterly wind. We phone Annick and dissuade her from making an unnecessary journey.

If yesterday, Roscoff was as inviting as we ever remember it, today could not be more uninviting.

The mirror-like blue estuary has turned into a raging grey-green sea with whitecaps racing towards us and sending spray up the harbour wall. The tops of the young oaks in front of the aire are bending to 40 degrees or more and the van rocks in the wind with the constant rattle of rain on the roof. Good luck to those sailing out on the 15:00 ferry.

Apart from shadows in adjacent motorhomes, and the occasional car, the only sign of other humanity is a kite-surfer skimming the estuary at incredible speed and taking off 4 or 5 metres in the air. Brave, skilled or nuts, it's his decision.

Then a tractor stops in front of us with a punctured tyre on the heavily laden trailer. The driver leaves the trailer at the roadside and comes back with a new tyre and a mini digger on another trailer. The digger moves the load from the stricken trailer to the good one which is taken away to unload, then the digger lifts the original trailer to change its wheel. The repaired trailer is towed away, the larger one brought back and the digger loaded back onto it. All this takes the poor farmer and his son nearly three hours in the raging storm.

The rain eases in the evening but the wind is still rocking the van when we go to bed early in preparation for our early start tomorrow.