St Solen-Part 2

    Tomas had barely slept. The many cockerels next door had awakened him well before he padded down the granite steps, picking his way barefoot across the road to the well. Nobody stirred in St Solen before dawn apart from the rats, and only they emerged at the peril of Raymond, the indomitable finger-wagging…

En Bretagne-Dinan

Perhaps it was the light that made it so particularly special. Bright, white sunshine reflected off lead flashing and mottled slate tiles. Light made all the brighter for the contrast of grey cobbles and dark, dark timbers. Light that threw long sharp shadows, as slim and defined as the church steeple with its plaintive bells….