At Home in Brittany

The English Tourist in Brittany

A lot has been written about the English tourist and their unusual traits which come to the fore when they are on holiday. As someone who provides holiday accommodation in Brittany it never ceases to amaze me how we the ‘ Brits’ are transformed from normal logical human beings into strange aliens that have suddenly found themselves on a mysterious planet. Until the last few years France was a holiday destination of the hardened Francophile who came for the culture, history and of course the food and wine. More recently we have seen an increase in tourists who would normally have gone to one of the many package holiday destinations but due to the continual travel agency failures and airline price increases have decided to try the French experience.

 

Upon arrival in this strange land the first thing is unload all the English food we brought with us, after all we don,t want to risk upset stomachs trying all that strange French food. Evidently it is necessary to bring lots of toilet rolls to France; I presume the French toilet paper is below par? (In fact English toilet paper is excellent for blocking the septic tank)

 

“Can you tell me where the nearest takeaway is as we did not have time to get something on the way” Well actually the French are not really into takeaways so the only one we know is a McDonald’s some distance away. There is a really good Crêperie in the village why not try that. “But that’s just pancakes isn’t it?” No, they have a varied menu at most crêperies but I am afraid they do not do takeaway.

 

Protesting – French Style

Here in Brittany emotions run high when an action carried out by one is regarded by another as unjust; and never more so than when it affects the agricultural community. The recent contention is the disparity of profit between the milk producers compared to those gained by retail outlets; predominantly supermarkets.

“Retailers are making big margins on basic foods such as milk, fruit and meat at a time when prices paid to producers are declining”, stated France's main farm union, the French National Federation of Farmers' Unions (FNSEA).

Farm minister Michel Barnier said this week a new committee charged with monitoring margins along the food chain is ready to publish its first findings -- relating to pork prices -- but the FNSEA says progress has been too slow.

 

“Les Paysans” the country people, are not reticent in making their views heard and the extent of their anger has been evident during the weekend. Plumes of black smoke ascended into the blue June sky emanating from strategically placed bonfires in supermarket car parks. Farmers blocked access to around 40 out of some 60 distribution centres that supply French supermarkets as part of a 48-hour protest. Traffic came to a halt at every roundabout, their route firmly barred by tractors, trailers trucks and other agricultural heavy duty machinery.

 

In general the protests are well organised and take the form of a well planned march culminating in the occasional short term road blockage where leaflets describing the groups grievances are handed out to the delayed traffic. However in recent years the protests in Brittany have to a large part involved the farming union which historically have a very strong base in Brittany. In the years we have lived here we have witnessed some astonishing protests by the farmers us ing any means they have to attract the government’s attention. This is the first of a round of demonstrations (manifestations) that take place in France every year, usually during the summer months to maximise the disruption and therefore initiate responsive action by the Government.

 

A Snip in Time

Here I go again; another appointment with a hairdresser, another attempt to keep an hair of Englishness about my style. (Pardon the pun). I must have chalked up at least twelve since it became a mission several years ago to establish myself with an eminent “coiffeur” ou “coiffeuse”; I’m not fussy. 

 

Or am I? Most things in Brittany I can usually accept easily with regards to them being French or Breton but, hairdressers evoke in me a sense of paranoia.  Is it just me; who invariably is subject to a cut and style that by no stretch of the imagination resembles the one chosen from among the pictures ‘ma coiffeuse’ proffered? Am I the  only one after giving precise instructions on the subtle tones of a colour to be applied in order to maintain a “natural look”; finds herself looking at a reflection in a mirror that suggests she may have to lie low for a few weeks?

 

As I tentatively walk towards my latest choice of hairdressers; charmingly called “Coiff Zen”, I cast my mind back to my first encounter with French hairdressers. Shortly after we had arrived in Brittany, very conveniently I found a little salon had opened up in a village nearby; and being new to the ways of French style I considered one hairdresser in an unsophisticated establishment would be a simpler right of passage to contend with than those found in the larger towns.