Close set streets, built for exploration by human foot or horse's hoof, straggle up a shallow hillside. Cool shadows and warm pools of sunlight shake hands, from overhanging upper storey windows.
Space is at a premium within the mediaeval walls of Vannes. The city's spacious green lungs and lounging spaces lie beyond its ramparts.
With mighty gate arches granting, or denying, access between the two. The most imposing, Vannes's 'front door' if you will, gives onto the harbour.
Stargazer's skipper is able to marvel, daily, at its grandeur, seated in her cockpit. (Gate arch between the main and mizzen masts of the ketch)
Albeit from a low perch. Which necessitates a certain craning of the neck.
High above the milling crowds, Saint-Vincent Ferrer, after whom this ancient portal is named, raises a protective hand. Should he ever lower it, so local legend goes, Vannes will be swallowed in one gulp, by the Golfe du Morbihan.Like a lost Atlantis.
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