After 10 minutes, the train starts moving again. 30 minutes to the final destination. I start smiling when outside my window I recognize the lopsided cathedral in Dol de Bretagne that Spare Mom loved so much in the postcard I sent her last year.
After exiting the Saint Malo train station, I know EXACTLY which way to go. There is just no way that would I even consider taking a taxi; this 20 minute walk just heightens the expectations. It is like walking home.
|Capitalism at its finest: The North Pole just sold for development ! Santa Clause is homeless !|
I get to the reception of the hotel and instantly recognize one of the receptionists from last year. "Pas de velo a Saint Malo", I say (It rhymes)
I drop my backpack in my room, and storm out the back door to the beach (I briefly had considered just going straight to the beach ;-). And all of a sudden, everything is ALL RIGHT again (Well, almost).
I walk one hour along the beach and on the way back buy Rose, baguette, salty pretzels, a plate & knife, and butter, cheese, and cold cuts.
A bit later. The balcony doors are wide open and I can see, hear, and smell the crashing waves on the beach right below me.
Yes, it is December 18th here as well as in the rest of the world, but it is 13 degrees Celsius outside and the sun came out during my beach walk.
This happens every time I am here. I start wondering why in the world I would ever leave again.
At 7 pm it's time to counteract the excellent Rose with some solid food (and more Rose). at my favourite restaurant: Le bouche a oreille (by word of mouth). I order the Noix de Saint Jaques. Not only is the food fantastic, but the waiting owner is just as formidable as last year. Even though I don't order a cafe today, I am still treated to a glass of the high-octane distilled fruit beverage in a Schnapps-glass that causes that grin to appear on my face again.