I can’t quite believe that’s a week done, mon dieu, where did that go? It was Monday last week when I thought, “you know what, I’m taking the ferry from Plymouth and I’m going to go somewhere…for at least a week until I have to come back.” Très decisive. That’s exactly what I did. The aim was to do it without flying and only use public transport, very new age of me, I thought, minus the patchouli. As I write this on the train from Paddington to Plymouth, so far the only train to let me down was the very first one into Plymouth, which was cancelled (merci beaucoup). All the other trains along the way have been spot on- positively SNCF in spirit. Even the circus I was expecting with Eurostar turned out to be less Moulin Rouge, more gentle café jazz. I had looked up the hints and tips on the ‘Man in Seat 61’ website and they worked an absolute treat.

The utterly bizarre spectacle of everyone queuing at the Eurostar gateline- pourquoi?!- to get on a train with only reserved seats and plenty of luggage space is, quite frankly, magnifique nonsense. I took the advice, sat down, had a coffee like a smug Parisian, and sauntered on once the madness had calmed. If only I had a pastel coloured merino wool sweater draped over my shoulders to complete the look. It’s the same deal on a flight, why people queue to be first onto a flying metal baguette full of fuel is beyond me, but chacun à son goût. Anyway, an opportunity has popped up this week that I have to be back for, hence I’m closing the loop… très neatly.

What I wanted to test was my theory that you don’t have to go very far, or even board a plane, to have an adventure. I had plans to go further afield (perhaps involving more sushi than fromage) and I still might, but with such obvious transport links on my doorstep, I thought, allez, why not? There was never a better time. And it’s been brilliant. Being on my own was actually great fun. Nothing wrong with travelling with family or friends, it’s a different flavour entirely, but solo you do exactly what you like, when you like, with zero committee meetings and lets face it the last 10 years has been full of meetings….. I also needed to turn a page. This wasn’t some new-age “me time” with incense and inspirational quotes about be ‘authentic’, pas du tout, but after a few months of professional nonsense I had full-on brain fog and couldn’t focus on what was next. It happens. And getting out there, seeing things from different angles, really helps. I also had a bit of time in April with old pals in Newcastle, which helped massively as well, nothing like a proper northern reset to rival any French therapy session. Cornwall can sometimes feel a little claustrophobic and insular-c’est la vie- and getting out reminds you the world is, in fact, quite large and rather interesting. Few things get you back on track like a week in Newcastle… or perhaps a glass of cidre somewhere in Brittany.

Looking back over the week, there have been no negatives or downers. The start had a mild hiccup with the cancelled train, but I simply grabbed an earlier one, which meant before boarding the ferry I had time for fish and chips on the Barbican with the family, almost went for Cap’n Jasper’s but was outvoted (scandalous). The ferry itself was utterly brilliant, franchement excellent, and I’m fully resigned to using it far more often. Why? It’s probably the easiest way to travel and you get far more for your money than flying. I was dropped at Millbay docks, waited with a handful of other foot passengers, and boarding was completely stress-free- très civilised. I was lucky enough to be on the larger ferry, Pont Aven, though

they’re all fairly similar. The whole routine was perfect: board, chuck your stuff in the cabin, watch the land disappear like the opening scene of a French film, admire the sunset, grab some reasonably priced food, then sleep and wake up in France. Proper travel. And not a single person barging or behaving like they owned the place-the sort of étrange behaviour flying seems to encourage.

Arriving in Roscoff set the tone perfectly. It’s a bit like Cornwall’s French cousin, laid-back, sun-drenched, and slightly smug about it. It probably helped that it was about 35 degrees, but wandering around, mooching, sketching, chatting to people, was exactly what I’d hoped for. People asked about the sketches, others were intrigued by the mysterious black box I kept waving around (the Coronet Camera- very chic, very misunderstood). I love that a battered camera and a sketchbook act as conversation starters. So many people struck up a chat as I scribbled away. Even on Eurostar today, my neighbour was fascinated that I was sketching happily while she battled emails for a well-known investment bank, she made it very clear where she’d rather be, avec un café somewhere…sketching. She even recognised the places I’d sketched in Paris, which impressed me no end. That’s the beauty of solo travel, you actually talk to people. And people are curious. “What’s stopping you?” I’d reply. You don’t have to go far to gain an entirely new perspective. For Parisians, it seems Brittany is basically another continent…

You may have gathered from earlier ramblings that I really liked the SNCF trains. I’m not naïve enough to think they’re always perfect, but they were superb this week. Fares were very reasonable, and for a few extra euros I frequently upgraded to 1st Class- très agréable. Even 2nd Class was excellent, and on a couple of occasions I found myself with a single seat anyway thanks to the 3+1 layout. Not one train was late, oui, really, and they absolutely fly along, meaning most journeys were under two hours. And of course, trains drop you right into the heart of a city…no faffing around. Stepping out into a new place always gives that wonderful sense of “right, what colourful chaos awaits just outside this station?”

Today’s return journey has been refreshingly simple: three Metro stops, Eurostar to London, Tube to Paddington, then straight onto the train to Plymouth. Slightly surreal to think I’ll be home by 5pm having left Paris at 10am, bonkers. But there we are: a week done and a cracking little adventure around northwest France. Everyone I met along the way was brilliant, accommodation hosts were helpful, train staff were chatty, and nearly everyone was keen to ask questions. Why Rennes? Where next? Are you a racing driver? (sadly, non.) Your French… how shall we say… adventurous. But you’re English? You must try this restaurant… I’m convinced the secret was that I almost never had my phone out—I doodled, read, or simply looked out of the window at the scenery like some 19th-century traveller. Apparently, people still enjoy a chat with strangers-quelle surprise.

Would I do it again? Bien sûr. Though plenty of people via emails and texts have already suggested they’ll be joining next time (do it!). As I said, you don’t have to go far to find a bit of adventure, sometimes just hopping across the Channel is enough to feel worlds away. Great fun. Now then… where to next…?

Top 5 Moments

1. Getting off the ferry in Roscoff. Incredible sunset and the real sense of “Right….where shall I go from here!” Morlaix was the answer but you can’t beat that getting off the ferry feeling. Just not the same as getting off a plane and immediately into a massive queue….
2. Sitting outside the Couvent des Jacobins in Rennes just amazed about how many people were out in the sun having a great time- eat, drink and be merry! Such an amazing atmosphere.
3. Finding my digs in Le Mans was right in the middle of the old town and above the Saturday Market. I lucked in with that one!
4. Actually looking forward to getting a train. I (like many) sadly dread getting a train in the UK as they are so unreliable (or maybe I’m unlucky). But, I looked forward to every train journey on a TGV as there were fab.
5. Meeting the Scotsman living in Roscoff and talking about pensions on my first day- It still makes me chuckle. Must be an age thing…

`

And to the awards for my companions on the journey:

• Bag 1- My Goat Skin leather case that goes everywhere with my and holds all my art kit. A true old friend and never lets me down. Actually bought in Paris from a vintage store a few years ago!

• Bag 2- A new bag I purchased this year in Quetcha, Sallanches not far from Chamonix. This thing is amazing and fitted all my clothes, laptop, wash stuff etc- it swallowed it all and never complained.
• Coronet Camera- I love this thing. 8 shots per film and then you have to develop them yourself, but worth it. It catalyses conversations with people and wards off others who think you are an eccentric weidro, but it’s great. Cost me £5 from the Pannier Market in Tavistock.

• My Lumos pen from Tom’s Pens. Another faithful companion on every trip I make (it lives in the goatskin bag). Just a brilliant thing.

• The SNCF App- Did everything on this for the trains. A brilliant app.

Stats

• 1 Ferry
• 1 local train
• 2 Tube Trains
• 2 buses
• 6 High Speed Trains (GWR, TGV, Eurostar)
• 8 Metro Trains
• Averaged 25000 steps each day
• 3 Art Galleries
• 22 Sketches
• 3 Canales
• 2 trips to Bouillon Pigalle
• 1 quiet reflective sit outside La Bateau Lavoir wishing I was drinking Absinthe with Picasso and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

I think I final word on sketching maybe….

I love sketching and it was one of main reasons that I did the trip. I’m not great at ‘urban sketching’, but as my art teachers and lecturers used to say, you don’t have to technically good to be an artist…just enjoy it. That’s exactly what I do. It’s a hugely relaxing and enjoyable thing for me to do. I’ll often sit in a café with a coffee and sketch away. People start to talk to you, you see more around you, you notice things….it just slows life down which is (I think) where we all need to be. My daughter hates me saying it but “see the world…really see it”, it’s a much more interesting and better place when you do.

With regards to what I do next…. I had a fortune cookie with a meal in Paris. I can’t deny that I have been worrying about the consequences of redundancy, you can’t help that, but this made me smile….