Up the River Rance

48°27'26.1"N 2°02'15.3"W La Rance River, Brittany, France

Chris & Renee invited us to join them on an overnight adventure up the river Rance to Dinan on ‘Venutius’ their retro 52ft Hullmatic.

We only decided to go yesterday, the weather and tides looked reasonably agreeable and of course I’m keen!

It’s an early start. There is a sailing race bearing in the same direction and we get swept along with them and their billowing sails. Our ‘Old Sea Dog’ Captain Chris heckles all the sailors he recognises, which is most of the fleet, as we pass. I don’t drink coffee, I settle for a beer.

We reach the other side of the channel and venture into the river mouth, passing the town of St Malo on our port side.

It’s time for my first ever lock experience!

It’s very tidal around these ere’ parts so the lock opens on a schedule. We have to wait for it to open. Venutius is not a small boat and all the smaller vessels are cheekily taking advantage and are sneaking in front of us, the longer we wait the more vessels push in front.

We get squeezed out. There is no room for us or the other large boat wanting to pass through, even though we were both amongst the first to get in line. Chris is not a happy cappy and shouts at the lock keepers in French. I have no idea what he is saying so Renee and I recline on the bean bags and open another beer. It is not yet 11am.

We wait.

Now it is time for my first ever lock experience…

We JUST fit.

The Rance starts to narrow and look much more like a river…

The fisherman huts on poles add an Indonesian vibe to an otherwise very French experience.

Lock number 2. There are a lot less people vying for space in this lock and it’s a much calmer, very quaint, experience.

We haul the bikes over the side so Renee and I can saunter along the banks of the river, at a rather relaxed pace, next to the boys on the boat.

Dinan

Set beside the River Rance, the walled Breton town of Dinan is a fairytale village, unusually ‘climbing’ up the surrounding hillside with the steep street of Rue du Petit-Fort connecting the river to the town at the top, lined with artists, engravers, sculptors and glass blowers.

The medieval town boasts some of the finest architecture in Brittany, with buildings dating as far back as the 13th century, the historic centre is filled with fantastically-preserved half-timbered houses and cobbled streets. Much of the original city wall remains intact, taking the 3km rampart walk is good place to start. The defensive walls were built in the 13th century and today 10 out of the original 14 guard towers are still standing, as are four gates. The prized piece of the ramparts is Château de Dinan, built in the late 1300s and today hosting a very interesting museum which houses many exhibits chronicling the history of Dinan.

Stumble across the St. Sauveur Basilica ( began its life in the 12th century and has been listed as a Historical Monument since 1862) and Saint Malo Church (built from 1490 and is a great example of gothic flamboyant architecture with its famous stained glass windows depicting religious events and the lives of the people of Dinan).

A major highlight in the calendar is Dinan's Fête des Remparts. The town is transformed with decoration and many locals dress up in medieval garb for this two-day festival. I shall be back, chainmail and all.

We dined below the town, at L’Atelier Gourmand on the terrace overlooking the river, feasting on a selection of steak, moules and tarte tatin with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, all were superb.

As the next day dawned, Jiminy Cricket raised us from slumber and we set off back the way we came, downstream towards the open ocean.

This time Captain and I rode the river banks alongside our noble stead Venutius.

As we enter the final lock we do not ‘just fit’, we do not fit.

Chris is unflustered, grabs a spanner and simply releases his radar arch, tilting it to one side for just enough clearance.

Much to the amusement of the lock keepers… no-one likes a doubter.

When you are in the lock, because of the change of water height, you don’t tie the boat on but wrap a rope around and back to yourself, to slide up and down; otherwise you’d be left hanging!

As the river opens up to the sea we pass the port of St Malo, secure the radar arch back securely to the boat and devour some pretty good pastries purchased this morning from Dinan, you can’t visit France without a pastry, it’s a rule.

You never quite know what Chris has up his sleeve and today he had Cézembre.

Cézembre is an uninhabited island, 750 metres by 250 metres. There’s a fine sandy beach facing Saint-Malo on the south, and a steep and rocky coast around the rest. As elsewhere in northern Brittany, the tidal range is among the highest in the world. Until the seventeenth century it was possible to reach the island at low tide on foot from Saint Malo.

The island's beach is popular in summer with visitors arriving by yacht or motorboat.

For such a small island its seen some interesting stories, there was a monestry for a time, five small chapels and numerous hermits along the way. Vauban fortified the island at the end of the seventeenth century, and it was used thereafter as a place of quarantine. World War I saw the Belgian Army install a disciplinary company on Cézembre. Come World War II, the Normandy campaign in the summer of 1944 saw the German-Italian garrison heavily bombarded by land artillery, naval artillery, and air strikes. Guns on the island contributed to the defense of St. Malo. The island's three-hundred-man garrison eventually surrendered to elements of the U.S. 83rd Infantry Division September 1944.

As a result of this intense allied bombardment, Cézembre's landscape is barren and pitted. The island has not yet been completely demined, and for this reason most of the island other than the beach constitutes a prohibited zone, with a barbed-wire fence and warning notices.

After all of this, the micronation of Talossa claims Cézembre as part of it’s territory.

The demining part is where Chris comes in, Chris owns, of all things, a WW2 landing craft and has been helping to transport equipment and bomb squad dudes across the island to clear any loitering explosives. Hence we are now here to have lunch with a whole bunch of frenchmen Chris knows fondly.

The Corsairs’ Lair serves lunch and pre-booking is essential. If you do not have a booking do not bother.

The table of frenchman ran the show. As far as I could tell there is no menu, it’s the catch of the day. We were served chilled rosé, lobsters and the yummiest fresh piece of steamed fish with pink peppercorns accompanied by a simple cream sauce, all with our bare toes in the sand.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

We had one more stopover, the exceptionally quaint french island of Chausey. I’d had too much rum and rosé by this stage so for more on Chausey try here.

C x