The Rennais Love the Rain

Rennes is one of the most peculiar cities I have ever visited. There is a striking contrast between the new and the old, its architecture echoing a handsome modernity as well as a bittersweet history. It is split from east to west by the Vilaine River, which divides "le Vieux Rennes" to the north and "le Nouveau Rennes" to the south. Lined with half-timbered houses throughout its medieval streets, the Old Rennes is the heart of the city. Its 15th and 16th century identity is unmistakable in everything from the Saint Pierre Cathedral to the Gaelic pubs that dot the Rue du Chapitre, and I find that is ideal for getting lost, which by now, I have done many times. There is only one caution: never wander around without an umbrella. I have learned the hard way that the rain is as integral a part of the identity of Rennes as the architecture is, and the sky can open up at any time. This is just another daily occurrence for the Rennais, however, so despite the cold, white sky and slippery cobblestones, they venture out, and so do I.  

So what else can a girl do in the rain, but shop? I like finding different Breton specialty shops, which are all over the place selling cider, caramels, flags, etc. I have even found one store selling Breton musical instruments, like bombards. My favorite finds though are the small, hand painted "bols." Most have Breton names written on them, so you have to look carefully to find your own. This one is coming home with me.

There are three languages spoken in Brittany: French, Breton, and Gallo. Breton is the language first brought to Brittany by the Celts that is a mix of Gaelic, Cornish and Welsh. It is highly respected and preserved, whereas Gallo is more of an underground, less well regarded language, which is only spoken in eastern Brittany. It is never seen on storefronts the way Breton is. So the farther west you go in the region, the more heavily Breton is spoken and intertwined with French. 

"Ti Breiz" translates to "La Maison Breton," or "the Breton House."

One of my favorite things to do when it is raining is read, so out of the many scattered bookstores, I found "The Ink of Brittany," which is filled with books in French, Breton, and even Gaelic that are beautiful and fascinating to go through.  

It also feels good to be alone though and walk through side streets where there are no crowds. The day might not be bright out, but the rain seems to bring out a subdued, natural beauty of the city, which I grow accustomed to the more I am here.   

Notre Dame-en-Saint-Melaine

One of my favorite spots though, which I found by accident, is the Porte Mordelaise, a 15th century old fortress gate that leads into a quiet alley painted with Breton flags and tea shops. On the other side of the drawbridge are now just the crumbling remnants of its surrounding walls, lined by overgrown verdure and wildflowers.     

The style here is rustic and worn, and to walk down any random street feels like walking in the Middle Ages. In the 18th century, massive fires threatened to destroy almost all of the city. Sparks ignited easily on the wood, and flames raged furiously from house to house, even across streets. So today, style seems to be built based on practicality and durability, and the preservation of what remains of the half-timbered homes is a vital part of the city's upkeep. Many are still in their original wooden form, but now are used as restaurants and pubs.     

       

"Ti Koz" has stood here since 1505, and next door, "Lion Rampants" loom over the door frame, symbolizing nobility and virtue. Such coats of arms were normally created by the families that once lived within these houses to symbolize high status.  

                                                                                      

History is mixed with modernity almost everywhere, even the post office and métro stop at Place de la République. Right here in August 1944, General Patton and his forces passed through Rennes after liberating it from German occupation. Bretons still talk about how their families remember everyone flooding the streets to welcome the American troops, the French women kissing the cheeks of the American soldiers.
    

There really seems to be a celebratory spirit in Rennes, which comes through the Rennais' memories of history and the way they go about their daily life. In the summer, the festivals of "Fête de la Musique" and "Tombées de la Nuit" start up, where musicians set up all over the city and play. Even today with the dark weather, I can still hear violins and drums from down in the metro station. I guess a little music in the rain never hurt anybody, right?  

In France, cotton candy is called "Barbe à Papa," or "Father's Beard," which I find to sound both slightly unappetizing and yet very funny. 

    

At almost every venue, people are either dancing, singing, or drinking beer, all just happy to be out listening to music. Some musicians sound Middle Eastern, others Maghrebin, some put on small rock concerts, others play classical pieces. All are informal, but comfortable and enjoyable, and reveal the characteristic simplicity of the Rennais. 

 

But it does get to a point when the cold rain will dictate the evening, and when it started to really come down, it was time to find a crêperie for a hot galette and cider. Like I said, Bretons thrive on simplicity and durability, and their food clearly reflects that. Galettes filled with gruyère, ham, and leeks are enough to keep anyone warm and deeply satisfied, and tonight are a perfect way to end a good, rainy day in Rennes.