This article is taken from the
Figaro Hors-Série "Eternal Brittany"
, find all the articles on Brittany, its history, its heritage, its way of life, from forgiveness to fest-noz
The Figaro special edition
When you arrive in Brest by sea, you reach Armor, the sharp point of the Eurasian base in the West. And just before arriving, except in thick fog - a meteor well known to residents - it is possible that you saw… mirages? No, islands: Béniguet, Molène or the "ultima" Ouessant, and perhaps Sein masted by its large lighthouse, to the south, and perhaps also mirages, they are crazy about the area. This odor that you breathe happily, intermediate between coriander and anise - between opium and love have said some - is iodine, the scent of amphibious seaweed, the irresistible breath of the wind of west in Armor. Because you are in the land of algae and laminaria: "shore seaweed", a unique virgin forest, standing in the sea at high tide, spread out jumbled around the edge.
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