BRITTANY: THE CREVASSE AND THE TOWN

Brittany is to France what Maramureș is to Romania. Brittany holds for France the same kind of mythical and majestic place that Maramureș does for Romanians: a region steeped in legend and natural beauty. Deeply fond of it, my youngest son Vlad and I set off in 2019 on a bicycle journey along part of its rugged coastline.

Our goal was to explore some of the most remarkable sites in the region. Chief among them: the spectacular Gouffre de Plougrescant, a dramatic cluster of granite cliffs split by a vast, gaping crevasse.

We began our journey in the town of Paimpol, located in the southern part of the Côtes-d'Armor département (the French equivalent of a Romanian "județ"). Luckily for us, our route first led to Tréguier, another extraordinary place in Brittany. From 542 until the French Revolution, this town served as the seat of a significant bishopric. For this reason, Tréguier is today counted among the seven founding cities of Brittany.

He Who Laughs Last, Laughs Best

We left for Plougrescant in the morning, following the dedicated cycle track in that direction. The first few kilometres were smoothly paved. At one point, two men on city bikes passed us and chuckled at the sight of our mountain bikes and luggage trailer. Later on, though, the paved road gave way to a dirt path—sometimes manageable, sometimes quite rough.

And then the wheel of fortune turned. A few kilometres further, we encountered the same two cyclists again—this time in trouble: one of their bikes had a broken wheel. They had no choice now but to praise our foresight in choosing mountain bikes. While they continued on foot, we pedalled cheerfully on toward Tréguier. To enter the town, we crossed a bridge—an impressive feat of engineering.

The Canada Bridge

This bridge spans the Jaudy estuary. Before the first bridge was built, the estuary was crossed by three ferry services. The earliest, known as 'Scaff an milin', dates back to 1551. In 1691, it became known as the 'bac du Canada'—and the name has stuck ever since.

The current structure is actually the third to bear the name. The first was inaugurated in 1834: a suspension bridge with iron cables, the first of its kind in Brittany. It featured a 100-meter-long suspended deck, flanked by two masonry arches. In 1886, this was replaced with a girder bridge that included a movable span on the Tréguier side, allowing boats to pass upstream to the port of La Roche-Derrien. That bridge, in turn, was replaced by the current one in 1954, which incorporates features from its predecessors. We crossed it—and entered the town.

The Town of Tréguier

Tréguier stepped into both history and legend around 532–535, thanks to a monk named Tugdual. He founded a monastery here, called Lan Trécor in Breton. That name later evolved into Landreger—the current Breton name of the town.

The French version, Landreguer, appeared only in 1330, eventually becoming Tréguier. Although eager to explore, hunger took priority—so we stopped for a meal first.

A Perfect Breton Lunch

For lunch, we headed to a traditional Breton eatery—a crêperie—to enjoy one of the region's specialties: galettes. On the right: a buckwheat galette, a feast for both the eyes and the palate, with its crisp texture and the rich taste of melted cheese, egg, and slices of ham. On the left: a crêpe as golden as the summer sun above the sea, served with ice cream, perfect for the warm day.

At the bottom of the plate lies the secret ingredient that makes Breton galettes the best in the world: Breton butter, a true culinary “magic potion.”

Tréguier’s Streets

With full stomachs and new energy, we set off to discover Tréguier’s history through its streets and alleys, many of them lined with half-timbered façades. These timber elements, often decorative, are applied to solid stone buildings built to withstand the violent storms and winds coming off the nearby sea.

We noticed the narrowness of the streets—clearly designed before the age of cars. We walked our bikes to better appreciate the architectural details. Locals smiled as we passed, encouraging us to visit the town centre, especially the cathedral and its surrounding buildings.

Saint-Tugdual Cathedral of Tréguier

Tugdual was appointed bishop in 542 and is now revered as one of Brittany’s seven founding saints. Inside the cathedral, he is depicted (on the left), alongside Saint Yves (on the right) and the tomb of Duke Jean V of Brittany, one of the region’s most influential rulers.

The original cathedral, built in the Romanesque style, dates back to Tugdual’s time. In the late 13th century, Yves of Tréguier officiated here. Canonised as Saint Yves on 19 May 1347, he became the patron saint of legal professionals—and of Brittany itself. Only the Hastings Tower remains from the original cathedral; it has been incorporated into the current structure.

After Yves’s death, a cult quickly grew around his tomb. The influx of pilgrims became so great that the Romanesque church could no longer accommodate them. A new, Gothic cathedral was begun in 1339—the very one we can still admire today.

Inside, visitors are met with images, relics, chapels, stained glass windows, and countless other elements that dazzle the eye and soothe the soul. It is a sacred space, where in the overwhelming silence, one can easily feel the presence of the divine and the saints.

We could have spent hours there. But we had a long road ahead.

Google Maps Gets It Wrong

There is no official cycle path to Plougrescant. So we asked Google Maps for a bike-friendly route. It sent us... straight into the sea. Apparently, it assumed that since bikes have pedals, they could function as paddleboats.

To reach our destination, we had to take the main road instead. Vlad was amused. Laughing, he declared, “I’m a car, and Daddy—hauling the trailer—is a truck!”

Camping du Gouffre

Upon arriving at the campsite, we discovered it was fully booked. We went to reception, hoping to get the address of a local who might rent us a small patch of land to pitch our tent.

When the owner—a proud Breton woman—learned that we were cycling along the Breton coast, she refused to let us leave. Instead, she offered us space beside the tent of some friends of hers, also Bretons. They were more than happy to share their spot with us for the night. We exchanged stories and impressions of the places we’d visited so far, and spoke of what still lay ahead: Castel Meur, le Gouffre de Plougrescant, and the Côte de Granit Rose.

Castel Meur

This is the official name of the famous little house wedged between two massive rocks, just a few metres from the Gouffre. Known by many names, our favourite is "La Maison du Gouffre"—the House of the Crevasse. With its back to the sea, it represents the spirit of Plougrescant just as much as the towering granite blocks around it.

Built in 1861 by a local resident, the house has always remained in private hands. It is never open to visitors, who must admire it from afar. Only the owners and their guests are allowed to approach by vehicle or bike. All others must park and walk.

The Gouffre and Other Crevasses

There is Le Gouffre—a gaping chasm between two dizzyingly tall cliffs, also nicknamed the “Hell’s Gulf Crevasse” for its dramatic appearance during storms. Formed millions of years ago by intense volcanic activity, the site was later sculpted by erosion, especially from the sea.

As we explored the area, we discovered several other, smaller crevasses (gouffres in French). While none as awe-inspiring as the main one, each had its own charm. Observing them up close—or even running a hand along their ancient stone—was a unique experience.

The Plougrescant Chasm and the Other “Faults”

There is Le Gouffre—The Chasm—that vast fracture between two dizzying cliffs, also known as the “Gulf of Hell’s Fault,” named after the dramatic spectacle it offers during storms. Formed millions of years ago by intense volcanic activity, the site has since been carved and shaped by powerful erosion, primarily from the relentless sea.

And to be honest: the most thrilling part of the visit is climbing the rocks.

Climbing Le Gouffre

Let’s be clear: climbing the rocks and boulders at Gouffre du Plougrescant is strongly discouraged by the local authorities, though not explicitly forbidden.

But stopping Vlad from scaling the rocks would have been a challenge even for the gods. Needless to say, I didn’t even try.

Especially because I enjoyed climbing them myself, trailing behind him. So I followed his lead, clambering here and there. Eventually, I tried to distract him by suggesting a walk away from the rocks.

The Château Peak

Our walk led us a few hundred metres further, where we came upon another formation: Pointe du Château. Naturally, Vlad didn’t hesitate for a moment before scrambling to the top.

When he came down, it was time for us to move on and discover other remarkable places in beautiful Brittany. But not before glancing back one last time and making a solemn promise: we will return.

Four Years Later

Promise kept. In early May 2023, we returned. This time we were joined by Radu, Vlad’s older brother. Vlad and I rediscovered this magnificent place with joy and emotion. Radu, visiting for the first time, instantly fell in love with its undeniable beauty.

And of course, the two of them began climbing the rocks together—brothers in adventure. Sometimes it was Radu who led the way, thanks to his years of climbing experience. Other times, it was Vlad, guided by his knowledge of the terrain.

And me? I followed along and took pictures. Countless ones, so that we’d always remember the magic of this place. Especially since, years from now, Radu and Vlad will bring their own children here. And those children, just like their fathers, will want to climb the rocks. And I will be there to tell them the stories of their fathers’ adventures—and, afterwards, take pictures of them on those same rocks.

The Adventure Continues

A few hours later, we had to leave. We were a little sad to part with such majestic stones—but not too much. Because ahead of us lay new discoveries along the Côte de Granit Rose—the Pink Granite Coast.