The Beach at Kersaliou

The Coast of Brittany, (aka Alone with the Tide)
James McNeil Whistler (1834-1903) 

If you left the chateau by the main gate and turned left you would be on the small road leading to a beach seven hundred metres away. You would pass small but richly fertile, vibrant green fields full of artichokes. If you were very lucky you might see a sturdy looking horse ploughing in some of those same fields. Ignoring the narrow road on the right hand side, which led, after a mile or so to the small town of St Pol de Leon, you would then come across small Breton houses on either side of the road with large gardens full of luscious looking vegetables.

Just after a car park on the right, the road finished and the beach appeared. If you were expecting a vast expanse of golden sand and the deep blue water of an Aegean type sea you would have been disappointed. This was, what I would call, a working beach.

There were rocks and rock pools and a huge variety of seaweed. The beach itself, though sandy, was not really conducive to sunbathing or to the feeling of soft granules of sand passing through the fingertips. No. It was a dog walking beach, a rounders or cricket playing beach. It was a place to be explored and its live and inert treasures examined and perhaps taken back to the chateau. There, they could be studied and researched in a classroom and then returned.

Such beaches could be dangerous for children if strict boundaries were not enforced. Clambering over rocks and rock pools without adults being closely in attendance was pushing the barometer of luck and chance into a downward spiral. Events happen!

As a teacher, at this particular beach, all you hoped for was to lessen the odds of accidents without lessening the sense of wonder, excitement and pleasures of discovering seaside treasures.

There was, also, a small café/bar at Kersaliou beach and it was important for three good reasons. Firstly, it enabled small groups of children to practise their French in a practical way. What kind of ice cream did they want? Was it strawberry, chocolate or vanilla? Was it a bottle or a glass of lemonade? How much was the orangina? What were the prices and how much change should they get back. Teachers were there but not to ask for them. Usually the teacher remained outside the bar and let the children get on with it.

Secondly, there was a narrow, concrete boule playing area and children could watch this popular French game whilst enjoying their drink or ice cream.

Thirdly, some of the old men who played here had been 'Johnny Onions.' They were delighted to talk with the children, in their heavily accented English, about their former work. Who were these men?

Onion Johnnies were Breton farmers or farm workers, based around Roscoff, who used to sell distinctive pink onions door to door in the UK. They dressed in striped shirts and berets and rode bicycles hung with onions. In Wales they often used Breton to converse with those who spoke Welsh.
In July, they would bring their onions across the English Channel, store them in rented barns, sell them and then return home in December or January. By the year 2000 there were only around twenty still making the trip.

These men were, reputedly, the inspiration for the founding of 'Brittany Ferries.' In 1972, Alex Gourvennec, a local Breton farmer, together with a few other farmers founded the ferries so that cauliflowers and artichokes could easily be transported to Britain. Apparently, when Prince Charles visited Finistere in 1998 and met Gourvennec, the local media headlined the visit:

'The Prince of Wales at the home of The Prince of Brittany.'

In Roscoff there is a small onion museum and a festival of onions in August.

So, Breton sea life, culture and history all at the small beach of Kersaliou.