# Tag 32 Sylt on the Atlantic

So here we are, in a beautiful place. Even the drive along the wild coast (côte sauvage) with the amazing houses on the other side of the road, which we admired on the previous evening, impressed us. Additionally, there is a coastal hiking trail, which is part of the old customs path GR 34. This trail has been accompanying us the whole time.

The town 'Le Croisic' is located at the outer tip of the peninsula and has the only open access to the sea in the entire area behind it. So, the harbor in the town and the whole area behind it are supplied with water when the tides come in every 6 hours. There is only a distance of about 400 meters between the promenade and the opposite end, which can be crossed at low tide.

While exploring the new area on the internet, we learn that Le Croisic is one of the oldest seaside resorts in France and was connected to the railway network with a connection to Nantes at the end of the 19th century. In the meantime, this terminal station is also the destination of the French high-speed train TGV.

I can't believe it. We are in the middle of the province at the end of the world. It would be like an ICE train running all the way to Sylt.

Wait a minute, it actually does.

And when we pass by the train station in Le Croisic during our bike exploration, what stands there:

And then there is also the huge bay of La Baule, with 9 km of fine sandy beach and a holiday feeling.

The first seaside resort on the coast was Le Croisic. This was mainly due to the train, which had already connected Saint-Nazaire in 1857 and was later supplemented by the Saint-Nazaire - Le Croisic line. This new section also served a stop called 'la bôle'. It was a rather abandoned place planted with dunes.

From 1880 onwards, a seaside resort was built at this location amidst the pine forests, thanks to the support of wealthy entrepreneurs and merchants. At the same time, the spelling changed to 'La Baule'.

I believe the comparison with Sylt is quite justified.

By the way, it's Thursday and Ascension Day, which is equivalent to Father's Day for us. I haven't found out yet if this day is also considered as 'fête des pères' in France.

Maybe Liane can help me with that?

Anyway, it's a public holiday that is spent with family. And let me tell you, the French bring out their bicycles and populate the streets with them. I can definitely see parallels.

But something seems strange to us: don't they have any sense of the weather? It's not exactly warm today (which can be said at 13 degrees and cloudy skies), and they are all riding around in shorts and t-shirts. Did someone order that it has to be warm on Ascension Day, regardless of the weather? Or does the red wine in their blood make them insensitive to the weather?

Our short bike tour starts in the center of Le Croisic. On the way there, we circle around the outer tip of this peninsula and marvel at the well-maintained single-family houses. No high-rises or apartment complexes.

The tide is out and people roam the exposed rocks, searching for mussels and oysters, armed with buckets and tongs.

At the entrance to the town, we marvel at the large mansions and castle-like buildings.

The town is bustling with people, and we stroll along the promenade lined with colorful restaurants, where all the French people are sitting and eating mussels at lunchtime. So, we prefer to wander through the side streets for now, which offer various art galleries and beautiful houses. The park around the town hall is also an oasis amidst the holiday crowds.

And because strolling around is tiring and makes us hungry, we finally find a place in the creperie and enjoy the obligatory Breton galettes with cider.

We are really pleasantly surprised by this place, even though it is certainly crowded due to the holiday. We have chosen the right means of transportation with our bikes and can go everywhere. We want to make the most of it and complete the tour by switching to the south side and cycling back along the cliffs. With a bike, you can explore the area more intensively and stop from time to time. There is the Hotel L´ocean, which is splendidly perched right on the beachside (I suspect it is the 'Le grand Large' hotel where Inspector Dupin and his assistants stayed during the investigation).

And there is the menhir on the beach, which is also the namesake of our campsite - La pierre longue.

The next day, we start the bike ride again to Le Croisic, and then we cross the salt fields to Guerande.

At the entrance to the strait, a sailboat seems to have miscalculated or misinterpreted the sea marks. In any case, it ran aground when the tide started to go out - right in front of the eyes of thousands of visitors. There is nothing you can do, you just have to wait 6 hours for the next high tide.

The sun is shining gloriously, giving the area a completely different light. The town itself is surrounded by a mighty fortress wall. As usual, there is also the touristy old town here, with many people strolling through the souvenir shops, candy stores, and crêperies. So, let's join in.

Here too, we come across the same shops that present themselves in the tourist spots. The range of products is also the same, so the challenge is to find something extraordinary. In addition, the fine salt from local cultivation has found its place in the shop windows. Or is exclusively offered.

In the afternoon, we've had enough and start our journey back. But it should lead us along the beach of 'La Baule,' after I read about it. Allegedly, it is one of the most beautiful beaches in France and ranks high in the world rankings as well.

The approach took us directly to La Baule Centre on a side street, and the closer we got to the sea, the more narrow streets appeared. One-way street here, cycling prohibited there - on the road, there were large cars and on the terraces of the restaurants, Champagne buckets on the tables - another comparison with Sylt.

And then the disillusionment - we reached the promenade:

What is this? The bay with fine sand stretches for 9 km - and with it, there is also 9 km of development in the first row (8 - 10 stories high). What a contrast to what we have seen so far. So, this is where everyone ends up who is being dumped here by the TGV. And since it's a long weekend, they are all here right now. We sit on the promenade wall and have a canned beer (brought with us). We have to digest this first.

I wouldn't call it the most beautiful beach in France. But that's just my point of view. Our thoughts search for comparisons - Copacabana, the beach of Rio? Nice - Côte d'Azur? Malaga - Costa del Sol?

Definitely not Sylt anymore - although I've never been there. I definitely have to catch up on that.

The ride back along the promenade also shows other sections with old bathing culture and nicer beach villas, which are particularly located in the second and third row.

That was a shock, how different this peninsula presents itself.

We don't have to cook for dinner tonight and we reserve a table in the restaurant at the campsite. Last evening - tomorrow we start the journey back.

And I still haven't eaten any oysters.