A Salty Afternoon: Le Croisic and the Marais of Guérande

I am excited for today’s randonnée, because we will get to visit the Marais Salantes (salt marshes) of La Guérande.  The last time I came to France, I went home with half my suitcase filled with coarse Guérande salt... and a little bag of Fleur de Sel, which is the prized top layer of salt, so fine and delicate that traditionally only women were allowed to harvest it.  

The salt marshes are delicate ecosystems.  Sea water is directed through a complicated system of holding pens made of argile (clay).  The impermeable nature of the clay keeps the water from seeping into the ground while it moves from pen to pen, but the clay is also so fragile, that walking on it can cause it to crumble and ultimately destroy the farm.  Therefore, only paludiers (salt farmers) are allowed on the marshes.

Today, we will actually will be allowed to walk in the Marais, because my friend owns a small salt farm within it, and so is among the approximately 250 workers who have permission to walk throughout the 1400-hectare marsh.  I have no idea how long our randonnée might be, where it might start, or where it will lead.  Even after our visit, I'm not positive which farms we ended up visiting, so my mapping is sadly lacking for that portion of the trip.  Below I've drawn our 6km round-trip hike to Le Croisic, and included the Marais area on the map so you can get an idea of its size and distribution.

My friend’s husband, daughter, Betty, and I climb into the car and drive the 15km towards La Guérande.  We park the car at the edge of the marais, where it meets the Pointe de Pen Bron.  My friend's husband has a difficult time explaining the adjacent "Naturiste" Pen Bron beach to his daughter.  ;)   My friend’s daughter suggests we take a boat to Le Croisic, which sounds like a great idea.  We get out of the car and walk about 1.5 km South down the beach towards the point. 

When we reach the Hotel-Restaurant Pen Bron, a small sign advertises a water taxi to Le Croisic.  We spend quite a while puzzling through the cryptic sign before understanding that we must wait about 20 minutes. While we wait, Betty and my friend’s daughter a fly kite on the beach.  I stand on the dock and watch giant jelly-fish and several men in kayaks fight the extremely fast current.  One man finally bails from his boat to get to the dock, and nearly loses his craft.  Another circles the dock several times before successfully getting his boat on shore.

The water taxi arrives and we pile in.  It's called "Le Galipétant," which is very cute.  The trip is very scenic.  The water is azure and the sand is pale gold.  Reaching the dock of Le Croisic, we see a couple of very famous sailboats moored there: the Pen Duick III and VI.  There is also a fishing vessel called Voiles d'Iroises dating from 1912 that served in both World Wars.

Walking another 1.5km from the dock, we reach a strip of seaside restaurants on a lovely little bay, and decide to have lunch at L'Air Marin.  Brittany is famous for its seafood, so of course I have to order the seafood platter.  It costs 18 Euro.  Seriously.  I eat and eat until I can’t eat a single wafer thin mint. 

Then we go to the Georges Larnicol chocolate store next door.  Lol.  The chef supposedly won this year’s French chocolate-maker competition, so… you know… Since I am heading back to Lyon tomorrow to meet up with Colin’s family, I buy some chocolate for them.  Ok, and a little for me.  ;)

Coming out of the store, I am shocked by the difference in the tide since we entered the restaurant.  The little marina we had passed is completely drained, and the boats are sitting on the sand.   A few stray dogfish wiggle in between the small pools, and my friend’s daughter is delighted.  She starts quizzing her dad on the maximum size of local sharks.  We retrace our steps to the water taxi dock, and watch a very inexperienced sailboat crew try to dock at the water taxi station.  The water taxi is about 50 feet offshore, waiting patiently for the sailboat to move.  The shoreline is completely transformed by the change in tide.  Giant boats tied too tightly to the docks at high tide now list to their sides in the low water.  

When we arrive back at the Pen Bron dock, the tide is so low that the water taxi can barely get alongside the dock.  The driver heroically lifts a passenger’s tandem bike up over his head to get it up on the dock.   Behind the water taxi, oyster farms are exposed on newly revealed sandbars.  Everything looks so different in the low tide I can’t distinguish the path back to the car.   We walk back along the beach, beside fields of sea asparagus.  My friend’s daughter dances the Macarena with her hands as she walks. 

Since our lunch took longer than we expected, and my friend’s husband has a long drive to get back to Paris tonight, we decide to save time by driving into the middle of the Marais, instead of walking through it from the Pointe Pen Bron.   

As we walk through the marshes, we avoid the clay walkways and stick to the grassy burms, so as to not risk the integrity of the pools.  My friend’s husband explains the different sections of the farm, and how the water is channeled through progressively shallower pools until all the water evaporates and only the salt remains.  Then the paludiers scrape the salt off the clay.  We watch a paludier in action. 

Then we go to visit the salt farm owned by Béatrice, a family friend we had met at the Piriac Farmer's Market, because she had mentioned she would be working on her farm today.  Being in Guérande, I fantasize that she is a reincarnated Béatrix, despite the fact that her personality seems nothing like selfish and cruel Balzac character.  (Feel really French and read the full Balzac novel here at Project Gutenberg.)  Unfortunately, we seem to have missed her today.  I catch a photo of a heron on the adjacent pond, but can't seem to catch any photos of the many egrets here.  These marshes are a haven for birds, because the area has been given protected status as a Nature Reserve.  

It's a beautiful day, and although I wish we could have spent even more time there, we must head back to the gite to send off my friend's husband and daughter.  They have work and school in the morning, back in Paris.  Although our train got us to Brittany in three hours, by car, it takes three additional hours just to get through the city streets of Paris.  They have a long drive ahead of them.  

Back at the gite, we say our goodbyes, then Betty and I settle in on our gite's patio for "cheese time." Today's selection is Port Salud, Tomme, and Bleu, which are supplemented by various products we had purchased at the Piriac Farmer's Market: a Gateau Breton with raspberry filling, a smoked pork sausage, and local microbrew (Mamm Douar Blonde BIO and Kerblei Blonde d'Ete).