Just a quick note about food, which Dave would put before my blisters in importance and i would put just after, on the walk so far. Not least to explain the significance of the photos. If an army marches on its' stomach, we hobble along on the promise of things for our stomach. So several treats now have their own nicknames. Take choc croissants for example - after being squashed in my bag for a couple of days they taste just as good for breakfast but are pretty...

Just as i went to bed in the Formule1 (or rabbit hutch as we knicknamed it) motel on the outskirts of Quimper i sent a few hopeful messages out on the couch surf network. That was last Friday and since then we have been enjoying the kindness of strangers all along our way. On Saturday morning my first couch surf reply arrived as i was packing my bag. Having had a read of this blog, Carine was happy to host us for a night and help us find other hosts. Despite havi...

So after a whole 4 days we are back in Quimper. Feeling a bit defeated having reached P d Raz and started to head East again we have struggled with nothing being open and me with those pesky feet, just blisters thankfully. We had a really good couple of days walking back from P d Raz, it was almost a home from home with villages like Primelin twinned with Mabe and Point-Croix twinned with Constantine, Gweek and Port Navas. Passing through 16th century farming vi...

A day of self-importance as we head for and hang out at a bit of namesake headland, puts the madness of this whole trip into context! After finding out that nothing is oopen and no one goes anywhere in France on a Sunday we were stranded in Quimper for an extra day, waiting to get a bus out west. Today we managed to get as far as Audierne, where we found a campsite near Pointe du Raz (PdR) and headed for it. In the process we turned down our first lift offer fro...

Every time I wake up in a new country with a stinking hangover I vow to not drink before I travel again. Alas, with a day to kill in Plymouth before the ferry left the vow was broken again. So half a bottle of champagne on the Hoe (which Dave enjoyed from the comfort of Mum's car), a tour of the Plymouth Gin distillery, a few last westcountry ciders and several lagers on the ferry later- we woke up in Roscoff. With another 4 hrs to wait here before we could move ...