After breakfast we took some seafront photographs in the sunshine, finished off our shopping and posted Christine’s bike lock back home – no point carrying it round Spain without the key to fit it. We rode the short distance to the Brittany Ferries terminal and chatted to other cyclists and motorcyclists while we waited to be be allowed to board. All the other cyclists were carrying much less than us, we’ll have to be more ruthless in packing next time… but we’ve said that before. Mark and Ruth were on a four month trip carrying very little. They showed us their folding crockery from Backpacking Light, which is a definite purchase for our next trip.
The Pont Aven is a huge ferry, only two years old and equipped with a two-screen cinema and swimming pool as well as the usual shop, restaurants and bars. The staff were all French, announcements being in French, English and Spanish. All the passengers appeared to be British.
We watched the sun set, appearing to be swallowed up by the sea, then retired to our cabin. It was a four berth, because our son Rowan was also booked to travel but had to cancel at the last minute because his work contract was unexpectedly extended.