The Menhirs of Morbihan

Morbihan is the southernmost department of Brittany meaning "the little sea," or Ar Mor Bihan. It has some of the deepest, most prehistoric roots in France, marked by granite menhirs that have existed thousands of years before the Gauls even set foot here. Our day begins in Carnac, the home of over 3,000 megaliths, the oldest dating back to 4,600 B.C. It is still a mystery whether or not they were used for solar calendars, astronomic systems, or pathways of a sun cult, but nonetheless, they nurture the imagination and continually contribute to the legendary spirit of Brittany. These stones are as solidly in place as they were when they first greeted the Gauls in the first millennium, and today they greet us too, as we climb through the thistle fields and take in breaths of the most mild air we have tasted in weeks.

The climate and land down in Morbihan is vastly different than that of northern Brittany.The temperature is mild, the wind is strong but not overpowering, and the land pricks your ankles with thistle and heather. Houses that rest among the "alignements" seem as old and rugged as the stones themselves. Some are abandoned, some still inhabited, and the expanse of the menhirs is so great, that we are told it would take an entire day to see them all.  

  

This particular section of Brittany is deeply inspired by Druid legacy, Celtic heritage, and logistic isolation, and as so is rife with superstition and myth. Good and evil spirits, gnomes, fairies, and phantoms populate the lore of this countryside, among the multitude of wee folk are korrigans, farfadets, korils, and poulpiquets, who supposedly dwell within the dolmens. Though they are said to be mostly gentle, they can also be capricious and capable of inflicting terrible vengeance. We are told that they can occasionally be glimpsed dancing and joking by the light of the moon.    

But dealing with these little beings involves, of course, tradition and savviness. One should never dance with a korrigan because he will make you lose track of time, and you will awaken in twenty years with a white beard. Plug your ears when you hear a distant fiddle or whistle, as it is a sign of the farfadets taming a wolf or charming the birds. It is always a good measure to leave a crêpe and glass of milk out at night for the fairies who drop down the chimney to help with the housework. But most of all, it is best to get on the good side of korrigans, as they fabricate gold with their hands and have enormous riches.   

 After leaving Carnac, we have lunch at the home of one of our director's friends. They haul out a rustic wooden table and set it with cheeses, meats, butter and wine, and afterwards make coffee with sugar cubes for everyone before we leave.  

            

 

A typical moment with Anna and me.  

To end the afternoon, we stop in Locmariaquer and Port Louis to see the southern ocean. This is the first warm beach we have been on our entire trip, and we are all in a slight euphoric state just to be able to put our feet in the sand and lay in the sun.   

Even the beaches down here are unique; they are full of shells and the sand is so thick, it is almost painful to walk on. It is still as full of history and legend here though as any place in Brittany. Men (half) joke that falling into this sea is a life-or-death race between hypothermia and the Mari Morgans (Celtic mermaids) who lurk in the waters, waiting for the chance to kidnap drowning men, and that during storms, a great phantom ship appears through the fog at dawn as an omen of an imminent shipwreck.

 That being said, my spot on the beach is good enough for me.