Rohan and St Samson, Brittany, France

I've had a bit of a stressful time recently so thought it best for looking-after-Mum purposes that I take a few days out in Milly. I never go far from home on these trips, and often go to a neighbouring town, Rohan, where they have superb motorhome facilities. This time though I just didn't feel like being amongst the early motorhome tourists at the usual spot, so drove another few minutes down the road to an even smaller town called St Samson.

Before settling at the small quayside in St Samson though, I stopped for a few minutes at a canal-side spot in Rohan I'd planned on going to with Alan ... but we never really get the chance to do things like that together! I stayed only long enough to take a few shots for Alan to see, planning - yet again - to visit properly at a later stage with himself.

 

 Canal-side at Rohan. If you turn left at the bridge you go into the town centre.

Turning right over the bridge takes you out of town and towards Pontivy.

 I didn't look long enough at this little building to know

whether it's a house or not - will have to look closer next time

The lock keeper's house is on the left ... next to the lock itself.

The building on the right is La Ville Traquility, the gite folk usually

stay in when they come to visit us. I believe it's excellent!

 A close-up of the lock gates

Close-up of La Ville Tranquility and it's reflection.
As you can see I didn't have the best of weather that day.

And so on to St Samson where knowledge of local spots ensures me a quiet stay. The night I was there, there was only one other motorhome, plus a fella staying overnight in his Transit van ... probably on a business trip. I did laugh at the other motorhomers ... they tucked themselves in between Milly and the Transit van, so close to me, as if they needed our protection ... totally ignoring the space big enough for ten motorhomes left vacant. Folk are funny.

 St Samson ... a really peaceful place.

An old fella with a white "pavement special" dog live

in the white house on the left and walk along the quayside

every morning and evening. The old man is grey haired and bearded,

always dressed in the same black jacket and pants with the same

black slippers on his feet, shuffling along with the dog sniffing like

he'd never sniffed those spots before, and his back legs being

whacked (the dog, that is) with the regularity of his walk swinging the

biggest black male dog appendages I've ever seen!

 

View from the far end of the quay looking village-wards.

The green bank on the right is the edge of a cycle and walking

track. This is the Nantes to Brest canal and the track is very busily

used by cyclists and walkers.I don't often see boat movements though.

 A sad caravan-boat, sighing with old age and lack of care

 

 This old barge just lies there at the far end, floating

and dreaming of better days.

 Looking behind, at the end of the quay, is this

quiet spot of water and fields.

 Milly and her purple fly curtain we found in the

Algarve in Portugal a couple of years ago.

This is what I brought with me to eat and to paint ...

and then I only stayed one night after all!

My initial idea had been to stay for three nights and four days. Long enough for me to find my creative mojo which has been lost for a couple of months or more. I'd packed all my paints and enough painting surfaces to sink that old barge on the canal. But ... after a good afternoon's sleep followed by a full night's sleep, a good listen to one of my audio books I love so much, and some delicious strawberries and vanilla creme freche/yoghurt ... I decided that I was a fool to be spending even less time with my lovely husband, and even less time in the studio I have created for myself ... so I headed home!

A friend I have yet to meet but who has come to mean a lot to me over the past few months, reminded me of the Buddhist chant Tina Turner uses to get her through difficult times and to keep her in balance ... Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. I searched on YouTube, found an hour-long chant and have been listening to it ever since, for as much as I can. Thanks to that, and to Alan giving me space by doing all the Mum-caring, I've found that elusive creative mojo again and realised that I am lucky enough to be working on at least three painting commissions at the moment. So I'm grinning again ... possibly because I know how silly I must look typing away and painting away while chanting like a buzzing bee.