Vannes - 'nostalgie'

Environs Montssarac (c) de Roger Gajek

It's amazing what we take for granted — especially at age 20, when one has already logged an good few travel miles, and lived a fair chunk of time in a number of different European towns and cities already. This was my home base for a year abroad teaching assignment in about 1981.

At that age — what seems exotic and un-reattainable decades later — can quickly become just an ordinary everyday grind when it's work, and not quite where one's mind is centered.

living there during the school year, didn't allow for the summer experience — but Spring was as good as it gets. Even winter was mostly better than the usual northern European maritime murk, a little warmer, with the local microclimate in the Golfe de Morbihan even permitting palm trees to dot the city's prime gathering spots and ornamental gardens.

But plenty of windswept rainy days, too. Ecole Normale de Vannes (College Jules Simon), Place Maurice Marchais, could be a pretty drab looking place to return to at night. But the ambience was fun with a small contingent of international students, some regulars with no home to go to, and a buddy who was in the French Foreign Legion, an Algerian boxer, and a communal kitchen where we made some of the best meals I ever ate.

Vannes Port de Plaisance

At this point in my life I had but one or two thoughts: music, songwriting, band, girlfriend, fun, punctuated by work, visits with colleagues, and new friends made.

Ironically, this — Morbihan — area would be where I would first encounter windsurfing. My two fellow teaching bros. were avid wind addicts, and tossed me a board, a sail, a UJ, missing parts, a dagger board, a baggy sail, and left me to my own devices to make it work!

Le Soir a Mousterien by ThierryBlanchard

After a few desultory attempts at putting the pieces together, my complices, were already off in the bay. So much for that. No big deal. I figured I'd might as well enjoy the pleasures of sunny French beach that day instead.

Little did I know, ten years or so later, I'd be far more interested in chasing the wind than any thought of the "sights for sore eyes" tanning on the sand. Hah, a lot of salt water has passed under the hull since.