La Mouette Brittany France
La Mouette Brittany France
Brittany rarely tops anyone’s list of luxurious escapes (yes, Le Croisic is technically in the Pays de la Loire these days, but it’s Breton in spirit, history and accent, and no one here will tell you otherwise). Perhaps it’s the proximity to Britain, which breeds a certain familiarity. Perhaps it’s the longitude, which puts it a little too far west to feel properly Continental. Or perhaps the south of France has simply been shouting about elegance for so long that nobody can hear anyone else. Look closer, though, and you’ll see how much you’ve been missing.
Start with the journey. Getting here from the UK takes a fraction of the time it takes to reach the Riviera, which, in an age of airport queues and shrinking legroom, is a luxury in itself. By the time you’d have cleared security at Nice, you could be on the Le Croisic peninsula with a glass in your hand.
And what a peninsula. The villages are all granite and slate, with shuttered windows and hydrangeas spilling over garden walls. Lanes wind towards harbours where the day’s catch is still being sorted. Then there’s the coastline: cliffs, black rocky outcrops, and an Atlantic that arrives with real conviction. They don’t call it the Côte Sauvage for nothing.
Our base for the weekend lived up to the name. La Mouette is the standalone beach house you’ve always imagined and never quite found. It’s built from the local grey stone, with carved wood on the veranda, windows and balconies, and cream stone blocks rising to a steeply pitched slate roof. It looks as if it grew out of the headland, not as if it were placed there.
Inside, the country-house mood carries on. Watching the sun go down from the lounge became our favourite ritual, and it needed no encouragement. A fire crackled in the grate, ready for the cooler night. The French windows stood open to an uninterrupted view of the churning sea. From the kitchen next door came the smell of supper slowly coming together, which led, inevitably, to the opening of another bottle of local wine.
Eating out is no hardship either. Le Croisic is a lively working port, and it’s well worth a wander and a long lunch. Order the oysters and the langoustines, and ask what’s come in that morning.
My favourite, though, was La Baule. It’s one of France’s grandest and most historic resorts, and it’s the perfect place to end up after a day of rambling. Its sweeping bay of pale sand curves for miles, lined with elegant villas that still look as though they’re waiting for a Belle Époque lunch party. The seafood restaurants are excellent, and most serve a catch that was in the Atlantic only hours earlier. The wine list is just as well considered, drawn from the nearby Loire. A crisp Muscadet with a plate of oysters is the kind of pairing that makes you wonder why you ever bothered with anywhere else.
Come late spring or through the summer, and you’ll find warm days, long evenings and plenty of sunshine. (Bring a jumper regardless. This is still the Atlantic.) It was our first visit, but I’d be astonished if it were our last.
