Stone buildings and farm animals

Right. Ends up that we never got wifi yesterday, or the day before that, so I'm even more behind on posts. Here's our adventure from two days ago (Saturday, June 7):

Today, it seems that we were all over Brittany and saw enough old stone structures to last a lifetime. We started the day with a visit to a French market, complete with everything from artwork to clothing to fresh produce to bread and cheese (we bought quite a lot of the last one). Then, we took a whirlwind tour of the bay/harbor/historical site of Saint Malo and some of the surrounding areas and attractions. Among our quick drive-byes: the ruins of a castle, an old jousting ground, the remains of a World War II German base, a historical abbey, the grave of our host Jeremy's great great (great?) grandfather (where we actually got out of the car and saw a lot of old graves, some of them dating back to the 1800's), a huge (at least 12 feet) rock with carved pictures (more on that later), and the actual fort of Saint Malo. It was pretty cool, but after a while they all started to blur together as a bunch of old stone ruins. Nevertheless, we enjoyed ourselves.

The one old stone that stood out (at least to me) was The Rock, or as it is known as, the Mehrir (I think that's how it's spelled, but I might have gotten one of the "r"'s switched around). This rock was truly impressive. At at least 5000 years old, this huge rock is dug into the ground at roughly a 45 degree angle by prehistoric people.  Although I say roughly, experts are of the opinion that it was carefully placed at a special angle for some particular reason that is TBA (or more like To Be Discovered). Along all sides of the rock are carved drawings of people and axes and other similar subjects, though we have to take the word of the informative sign nearby because they've become to faint to see in broad daylight. According to the handy sign, they're best seen at sunrise, midday, and sunset. The sign also informed us that there was a medieval tradition involving the girls who wished to marry, climbing the rock, and "christening knickers." After reading the sign, of course we preceded to try climbing up with complete disregard to the marriage section. None of us made it more than halfway up (and I'm proud to announce that I made it the farthest, albeit by sprinting up the flattest side with sweaty shoe-less feet).

Once we returned to the house, we went to the neighbors' farm. While small by American standards, it was still large enough to be impressive. We were able to watch as the farmhand milked some of the hundred or so cows. In modern times, there's none of that "stool and pail" stuff. Now, they have these chugging machines that do all the squeezing. Still, the farmhand had a lot of work to do. She was calming the cows, disinfecting utters, attaching the machines, fixing them, taking them off,  and even scrubbing them shiny after a clumsy cow tripped over one (all the while talking in a continuous stream of fast-paced French). Unfortunately, I didn't think to bring the camera so I don't have any pictures of the entire farm visit. 

After witnessing part of the cow milking, we head over the the smaller barn filled with all the calves (they had about three barns of varying sizes-one for cows waiting to be milked, one for more cows, and one for the calves). They were so cute! But not in the traditional cute of puppy eyes and furry tummies. Instead, they were all spindly legs and tufts of fur on the crown of their head. When we entered their barn, they all rushed to the edges of their pens and stuck their heads out, and we had a laugh after seeing that some of the bigger ones got stuck. Two smaller ones even stuck their heads through the same gap. None of them were hurt, which was good, and after we recovered from laughing we went to get the farmhand to help the poor guys out.

As we toured the area, I think we saw a very wide variety at the animals typically kept at a farm. We saw ponies in their little stables (we saw the farmer's daughter's pony), domesticated ducks in a fenced in pond, pigs in their pen (ooh and in a different pen four little piglets), geese (big grey ones with orange beaks, not like the Canadian geese back home), sheep (and little ewes), farm rabbits (we tried not to think why they would be at a farm, and Carolyn got especially upset after seeing a litter of baby bunnies), and chickens. 

At the end of our tour, we stopped by the farmer's garage, where there was a special little "shop" of farm goods set up for the neighbors. It was a very honor-driven system; there was a little refrigerator of eggs, milk and butter available for the taking. Next to it a small whiteboard posted the prices for each. At prices like one and two euros, it was definitely a deal compared to the supermarket prices. The money was placed in an old tin can on top of the fridge, and then you were done. Very trusting. I thought that it was kinda cool, just being able to do that. Not only were the products cheaper (and not to mention better tasting), but they were also given more freely. It's not like we've been to a farm in America, but still, I don't think that they do that. 

Oh! Carolyn just reminded me to talk about the cats. All over the garden and dirt road just outside the house gates often you can find cats wandering around. From the farm next door, these cats wander everywhere. There's one particular calico cat that  likes to hang around the garden that we've taken a liken to. Carolyn creatively christened it "Kitty," which I found humorous considering I've just started reading the Diary of a Young Girl. 

Anyway, it's late. Here in France, we're closer to the pole and as a result, it he sun stays out until about 10:30. Combined with my remaining jet lag, my sense of time is hugely skewed and I hadn't realized the time. Till later! (Au revoir!)