The colourful pavement cafes. . . . .
. . . . .and picturesque harbour setting. . . .
. . . . .caters to the needs of we (fortunate) silver topped tourists. Free to wander, or rest, as the fancy takes us.
However, beyond the saliva inducing temptations of the patisseries, 'serious' supermarket groceries are hard to secure. For those I must make my way to 'the other side.'
For across the harbour entrance, from Stargazer, lies the residential Concarneau.
Out on the point, bright white seaside villas form a daisy chain around the bay.
Their dinghies secured to drying moorings. Ready for a sail, whenever the tides suits.
Freshly painted fashionable apartments front the harbour narrows.
Further inshore, as I navigate my way to the Intermarche Super, the streets are matured to, an inimitably French, shabby chic perfection. Which borders on the louche.
I cross, from the postern gate of the Ville Close, by an eerily silent electric foot ferry. The early morning sun washing both sea and sky an impossibly deep blue. On as scenic a supermarket shop as it is possible to imagine.
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