Week Four
Day 22
There are lots of sayings around smelling roses. If you smell roses when none are present then your guardian angel is nearby. Don't hurry life; stop and smell the roses. That politician is doing an awful job but keeps on smelling like roses; plenty of candidates in today's climate.
I am stopping to smell some actual roses as the fragrance hit me in the face as I rolled past. Not for the first time I paused to appreciate the sweet perfume of Brittany, its constant birdsong and yet again the almost overpowering scent of rose.
"Stop and smell the roses" is a saying that is wrongly attributed to someone who once wrote something about slowing down in life and taking time to smell the flowers. Language evolves through laziness and apparently so do saying and a good thing too as this abridged version is a jewel.
As you can tell I am feeling back on form today. An early start, long breakfast, a draft of druid potion, and I even cleaned and lubricated the bike chain. I start back on my old friend the Nantes-Brest canal though this time travelling up stream. Onwards in the hope of finding a pitch tonight.
The day is cheerier than the seemingly dark clouds suggest. Sometimes the sun is just in the wrong place. Sadly I will miss exploring Josselin as I need to ensure I am fully fit.
I left the canal to join the V3 Voie Verte (greenway) and I immediately sensed I was on an old embankment though now nicely covered by smooth tarmac. It didn't take long to discover signs of the railway on the outskirts of Ploermel.
Getting back to Ploermel, "Plou-Armel" is supposedly named after a Welsh Saint, Armel of Glamorgan who lived in Ploermel in the 6th century. I have come across a number of specific Welsh/Breton connections and wonder at that unless I am just dwelling on those. Certainly it would be worth exploring the ongoing tug-of-war between France and Britain over the millennia.
It wasn't until I found myself staying in the ibis Vannes Gare Centre (gare meaning railway station) that it occurred to me that my rail tour guidebook may have been here before. The guidebook in my hands is worn around its hardback edges and it does have vertical lines drawn in pencil to highlight points of interest in specific regions. This doesn't prove the book left the UK but from a brief look at the pencil markings someone had an interest in the North Coast including Ploumanac'h which I visited.
Following the carefully laid trail of pencil markings from Ploumanac'h the book - and I deduce its former owner - travelled to Morlaix and then on to St Herbot, a 16th century Chapel accessed from the town of Huelgoat which itself is accessed from the Morlaix to Carhaix railway line. The plot thickens. You will remember no doubt that I visited Huelgoat by following the Voie Verte along an old railway embankment then detouring to Huelgoat.
I deduce that, as unlikely as it may seem, the book travelled by train in the 1910s on the railway (and its embankment) from Morlaix alighting at Huelgoat-Locmaria station to visit Huelgoat then the chapel. Over a hundred years later in 2022 the book revisits that route travelling this time by bike on the very same railway embankment with its new owner.
If you look at the photographic evidence presented you will see that the 1910 railway passes through Scrignac-Berrien (5th line of page) and I passed through a station whose sign reads CRIGBAC-BERRIEN with the leading "S" of the sign broken and lost. The evidence is irrefutable.
Following the carefully laid trail of pencil markings from Ploumanac'h the book - and I deduce its former owner - travelled to Morlaix and then on to St Herbot, a 16th century Chapel accessed from the town of Huelgoat which itself is accessed from the Morlaix to Carhaix railway line. The plot thickens. You will remember no doubt that I visited Huelgoat by following the Voie Verte along an old railway embankment then detouring to Huelgoat.
I deduce that, as unlikely as it may seem, the book travelled by train in the 1910s on the railway (and its embankment) from Morlaix alighting at Huelgoat-Locmaria station to visit Huelgoat then the chapel. Over a hundred years later in 2022 the book revisits that route travelling this time by bike on the very same railway embankment with its new owner.
If you look at the photographic evidence presented you will see that the 1910 railway passes through Scrignac-Berrien (5th line of page) and I passed through a station whose sign reads CRIGBAC-BERRIEN with the leading "S" of the sign broken and lost. The evidence is irrefutable.
Unusually there was an actual restaurant and it was in the 12noon to 2pm window for lunch service. I stood looking at the menu on the wall waiting to be attended to and saw a coffee menu. What! 10 euros for a coffee? Ahhh. 4.50 for a "coffee please" and 1.60 for a "Hello, a coffee please". This is a fairly common notice as is the "you don't have to be mad to work here... " one we see on the UK. Anyway, it is 13:30 and the French couple in front of me are told there is no more food on offer. That is normal in France, lunch starts at noon prompt so don't expect to be fed if you turn up 30 minutes before closing time.
Picnic lunch from an épicerie (grocer, general store, corner shop) who are happy to take a baguette and convert it into a sandwich for me. The French couple turned away end up in the same spot as me eating a picnic under the shade of a tree. They are walking and we compare notes and distances as best we can. He has some English and can tune into my awful French and translates my French to real French for his wife. It's the best example of how the French really struggle with the English accent; they will often repeat what you have said to either politely clarify for you the correct pronunciation or to clarify that you really did want 215 croissants.
If this feels like an over active imagination then I am travelling through the land of Arthurian legend where every restaurant is called Launcelot and Merlin's tomb is nearby. Its got to have an effect.
Looking at Google Maps I am a one minute walk from Excalibur, the sword of Arthurian legend. It's a Saturday and the lake resort I am at is busy and (the older) people are starting to migrate from the water to the beach bar as the heat of the sun dissipates.
I am recovering with a soft drink. I have been sipping from a bottle containing rehydration powders from the pharmacist all day and am feeling well after an off-day yesterday. I have looked after the bike and myself today which is just as well because when the route took me off-road for the last 1Km of the 65Km my legs complained and body felt fatigued. I'd been a bit put out that the pharmacist had given me the "over 50s" version of rehydration without even asking my age; well at least they won't ask my age when I order a stiff drink to get over that. There are pedalos on offer here though maybe it's getting too late for more pedalling.
An odd day in some respects. While pitching the tent I heard what I thought might be King Arthur and his knights clip-clopping into camp but no, just the local pony club on an outing. Later I saw the horses in their compound and one was dressed in a zebra patterned coat. This reminded me of two things. The real zebra I saw by a large collection of circus trucks and, less attractive, me in the shower after three weeks outdoors in shorts and t-shirt.
Day 23
From my woodland retreat I was at one with nature. So much so that I was woken by a dawn chorus that included the highly distinctive call of the cuckoo. On the subject of distinctive bird calls, I was startled last night by the undeniable - and very close at hand - call of an owl. It was more piercing than soft and I am sure that it was eliciting a distant response. In total I think noted three different types of owl, or at least three calls of nocturnal birds.
In other news I visited Excalibur last night and took a photo for any non-believers. It's shinier than I expected, but then with everyone trying to pull it out of the rock it sort if makes sense.
As described in Alfred Tenysson's poem Morte d'Arthur it was the Lady of the Lake who, rising from the lakes depths gives Arthur his sword, Excalibur. It frustrated me yesterday when a notice board picture displayed a manly hand raised out of the water holding Excalibur when a feminine hand should have been depicted. I'll get over that in a day or so.
It's a short ride to Rennes today where I camp on the outskirts then hopefully have enough energy to walk into town and see the sights. My Cook's guide describes Rennes as modern. Certainly I need to add 120 years to that and in Brittany modern probably means post-medieval.
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| Can you see the tent? |
Bon appetite is something the French will say routinely. As well as a cordial "bonjour" it has been fairly common for a passer-by to say bon appetit as I sit at the road side fuelling up for the next stage; even if I am just munching on a snickers bar. One time this was supplemented by "recharger", recharge.
It is Sunday so all the French weekend cyclists are out and as in the UK most will great you with one or more of a "bonjour", a nod, or a raised hand. The key to cyclist greeting is to decide your method of greeting and greet everyone the same; don't greet the lycra brigade and ignore granny, or visa versa.
Being Sunday and a short ride to Rennes I have a long breakfast ; 1 main course portion of mac 'n' cheese, 2 bananas, 3 cups of coffee, and 4 biscuits. After a pleasant ride where I move onto a fast road and let the legs loose on a gentle downhill section I stop to join the boulangerie queue and stock up, this time opting for some flavoured bread sticks to save me looking for fillings.
Another Paris-Brest which is a favourite, in part due to its supposed cycling connection, in part due the fact that when I order it the sales assistant doesn't need to clarify or correct my pronunciation but mainly because they contain the right proportion of simple pastry and luxurious cream. And in case you are wondering, before I had even got started on the Paris-Brest I was wished "bon appetit".
Today's blast along a short and flat route was, well, a blast. Helped along by a stop in a village that was holding a bric-a-brac sale with food on offer so that was lunch. The village green was decked out with trestle tables and saucisse on offer in bread or galette; with chips.
Today's campsite was night 2 of my forced change of plan and it couldn't be better. After a rest and a bit of tent pitching I enjoyed a walk around the wider park that the campsite is set in choosing to avoid Rennes city centre. It is Sunday and the place was humming as people enjoyed an aerial walkway (like Go-Ape in the UK), mini-golf, lots of barbecue fires in designated brick built barbecue stations and a brasserie with music and people dancing outside. The barbecue folk each had their own music going and everyone was very relaxed. The area has small lakes, lots of trees for shade and a chilled atmosphere. And that's the funny thing, once you get past the mandatory formal greeting the French are so laid back.
I have more changes to plans coming up and have spent some time today re-planning my routes to avoid one closed campsite and one that only had a compost loo. The next major milestone is to get up to Coutances in Normandy after which I double back to revisit Dol-de-Bretagne, then Saint-Malo and home.
Day 24
I have spoken alot about railway lines no longer in use but here is an example on the outskirts of Rennes of a new light railway which, though the photo doesn't show it, snakes it way around Rennes. They run just 2 cars to make up each train but they run on a regular basis and the small shiny cube of a building is a station which you can see in shot on the right.
The photo below shows how cycling infrastructure could be if you have the space and commitment. It is a great model with junctions clearly marked so everyone knows where they should be and it really does make cycling a breeze. The broad strip on the right is for cyclists. The narrower middle strip for pedestrians. The well separated lane on the left for motor vehicles with a second lane to the left out of shot.
I have passed through just a few of France's 96 departments and so far I have been mostly in the Brittany region as I prefer to maintain control of my progress by cycling and not using trains. As I head up to Avranche and Coutances I will enter the region of Normandy and more specifically the department called Manche. France is big and is divided into 12 regions that are then divided into departments. Corsica is the 13th region. Departments then get split into communes. There is a separate division of departments for some organisational activities; one such division which you may have come across is Paris's various arrondissements. The departments actually came out of our old friend the French Revolution as a post-revolution (the 1789 one) way to administer the country in the absence of monarchy and the Ancien Regime (Old Regime) of nobles.
Of course the French themselves never really considered themselves as French, they belonged to their Pays, their local patch of the world. Even now there is strong attachment to the Pays Basque, a space that occupies parts of France and Spain. Back in revolutionary France local feeling was so strong that the state found itself resisting revolution and in addition getting into a civil war in some parts of the country. If that wasn't enough, to obtain more resources for a country that was essentially broke, they were also raiding Belgium so it was a busy time.
My bit of fake history is that depending on the day of the week, you'd be guillotined for being part of the ancien regime that was to be brought down, or guillotined for being part of the professional classes (lawyers etc) that kicked it all off. I say this as France bounced between Republic, monarchy and empire for some time and I don't think people really agree on when the French Revolution actually ended; if it did end. Which brings me neatly back to why I haven't tried the trains in France. Well, revolutionary France lingers on I think and there are too many train strikes. Phew! I got there in the end and hope you did too.
Lets us talk a bit more about bikes. Look at the photos below and we will consider the red bike first. Five cogs on the rear wheel and two cogs on the crank where the pedals are. That gives 10 combinations but with an overlap in the middle. The red bike has quick release mechanism for the wheels and the two gear shifters are levers on the downtube. Let's call this the 1980s.
The yellow bike is older and only manages three cogs on the rear and one on the crank. The wheel release isn't quick but is a wide wing nut so no tool required to repair a puncture. Let's call this the 1960s.
Both have the dropped handlebars and brake lever design that go back to forever. My old 1997 bike has seven cogs on the rear and three on the crank, 24 gears but lots if overlap but it has the range for light touring. Still with levers for gear changes though the rear change is indexed so you click into gear and don't have to guess where the gear is.
My new bike (2020s) makes use of eleven cogs at the back and two upfront giving plenty of gear range for hauling your tent up hills. Being Shimano the gear shift is integrated with the brake lever; something called STI (Shimano Total Integration) which has been around a long time. The derailleur is the same on all. Yes disc brakes are becoming standard and yes some of those use hydraulic rather than cable but in essence the main innovative idea is to add another cog out back; I think we are up to 13 now.
Today's endpoint was Vitré which is in part similar to Vannes. I'll let the photos do the talking. What is missing is the stain glass in the Eglise de Notre Dame which is so bright from inside on what was a dull day you think it must be lit from without.
Day 25
I am back on the Voie Verte today. Today is 68Km (42 miles) with two thirds on compacted fine gravel so lots of work. Fortunately my bike isn't laden with food. Unfortunately I have no food unless I cook up some pasta. Fougères may be a lunch opportunity but travelling by bike hitting the small lunch window is hard and I need to keep the bike moving today.
Let's be clear from the off, I haven't discovered La France profonde, that deep meaning of what it is to be French. The term is used to describe the rural and agricultural essence of France such as the connection with the soil or the terroir in relation to vineyards. I have tried to convey what I have seen and experienced of France, the French and their customs. Sometimes frustrating like last night (Monday) when I wanted a proper meal out and everything was shut as it was Monday.
As I write this someone stops for a chat and I describe my big tour of Brittany mainly by listing the major towns I've been to. He is duly impressed and says so also commenting on my bike. He is over 60, probably 70 and doing an out and back on the Voie Verte. Despite my appalling French he took time to listen and clarify.
The photos show that this profound aspect to France can be hard to spot unless you look for the signs. My cycling enthusiast of 10 minutes ago was an example of France's profound love of cycling and cycles. A quick look at the photos show a cycleway and a disused building. Look closer and you see the trace of train tracks under the tarmac and the railway station name on the building. Did you see them?
And a real Thomas the tank engine tunnel as I get close to Fougères town centre.
Anyway, this morning I followed the railway embankment from Vitré to Fougères. A 23 mile journey that would have been 1 hour by train in 1910 passing through stations including La Selle-en-Luiteré which you will recognise from my earlier post. I was 'in motion' as my satnav reliably informs me for two hours and I had made a point of keeping moving for much of that as I need to cover more ground than usual today.
This was never a foodie trip to France but I had hoped to occasionally sit down to Le Menu for lunch. Well, it has finally happened. The VD5 Voie Verte had threatened to by-pass Fougères but I paused sensing the dreaded bonk (total loss of accessible energy) and climbed up to the town centre.
Le Menu is a three course meal with limited choice and is what we might call a set menu. Healthy portions and all the favourites such as pate and Crème Brûlée.
I predict a new trend where social media is awash with place settings but no food pictures. It is all about the anticipation and I am now hungry for food and hungry to reach my northerly point of Coutances and experience everything in between.
Last night as I was picking my way through Vitré I stopped to check directions and a lady out walking approached me, asking if I was doing the Tour de France. I smiled at this common joke and said no, but that I was doing a tour of Brittany and we had the usual stilted conversation. She said something about "if I needed to eat... chateaubriand.... red wine... just up the road two houses/streets past the park." At the time I was grateful for the - somewhat rich - restaurant recommendation and headed off for my hotel which was on Rue du Chateaubriant.... Then I realised she was quite possibly inviting me over to dinner as there were no restaurants this way. Maybe on this occasion my lack of French worked to my advantage.
Today was pedalling heaven and near the end I paused to check directions and the archetypal French farmer was there. We exchanged a few pleasantries. He was around 65, somewhat overweight and clad in lycra as he took his bike off the back of his car. So French. As is my neighbour at the campsite, age 65 and clad in lycra to do 30 mins on his electric bike with his wife. This sounds derogatory but I don't mean it to as it just shows the love that the French have for cycling. Good on them I say.
I am getting better at camp cooking. One tin haricots blancs for fibre, fresh green beans, pasta pieces for the carb element, precooked smoked sausage and a sachet of chicken soup for the stock and thickening. Hey presto, a campsite version of cassoulet.
When checking in to today's campsite I was given a number, 4 point 87. I took that to be the pitch number, albeit a bit elaborate. As my change from a 20 euro note was being counted out I realised it was the pitch price. EUR4.87
The state run municipal campsites often operate to attract tourists who then spend their money in the town which then benefits. With this in mind I bought a small bottle of red wine, crisps and chocolate desert which I plan to consume in the TV room watching Friends, dubbed in French of course, to improve my French comprehension.
Day 26
In France there is a "Cycles Welcome" scheme (Accueil Velo) where qualified members need to offer storage facilities; it would be hard to map a route to just use such places and luckily I'd always found a garage or similar in non-campsite accommodation.
A slight detour and a punishing uphill gets me to Avranche which is perched on a hill. I am of course now in Normandy so we see their flag consisting of two yellow leopards on a red background and not the black and white flag of Brittany. If you follow the Tour de France you will often see the flag of Brittany, and sometimes the Normandy flag. The other regions have flags but Brittany is a particular stronghold of both cycling and a regional sense of local identity.
I was determined to try another lunch though in Avranche non of the eateries appealed even though I had arrived in time for the noon lunch slot. In truth I didn't look for long as the narrow roads didn't lend themselves to locking the bike up outside while I ate. I went into a butchers to buy a couple of mini-quiche when I saw they were offering Le Menu. I ordered mini-quiche to start, pot au feu as my main and a chocolate mousse to finish. The pot au feu came hot in a very large takeaway container. Its the first time I have seen butchers doing Le Menu though I haven't been looking in butchers. They also offered La Formule which in the UK we would call a meal deal. The bakeries often offer La Formule with sandwich, drink and a pastry.
The pot au feu was beef based, so boiled beef and vegetables served in the cooking liquor. Very good though three times as much beef as I'd expected and like much of the food I have had, not as seasoned (salty) as you would typically get in the UK.
My end point is down by the coast and from here, north of Avranche you can see Le Mont Saint Michel. It seems that this municipal campsite next to the beach really caters for camper vans so it is 17 euros. The site is gated and it's a 20 euro deposit for an electronic key to let you in and out. That is fine but it means I need to wait until 10am to return the key. I can do a bakery run first thing then push on to Coutances.
Day 27
Today's route resembles a hockey stick and to begin with I am following road signs back to Avranche. The miles are catching up with me and I wonder why I am seemingly being sent the long way round. After a while I hook up with a cycle route and it is very scenic. Then, when I am desperate for caffeine, a small town appears and I get to stop at the first bar tabac I come to. The French have mastered coffee. It tastes of coffee and is smooth. If you really want milk then they provide that on the side with sugar so you can have it just as you like.
It has been hilly, but with short ascents and descents and I ponder how I would manage one of the big climbs such as Mont Ventoux, the famed giant of Provence a region of France made maddeningly popular by Peter Mayle in his book A Year In Provence. This got me to thinking about the legendary British cyclist Tom Simpson who collapsed and died close to the summit during the 1967 Tour de France. There were a number of contributing factors leading to this tragedy and pushing yourself further than is wise was one.
Mont Ventoux is on my bucket list though I would need to think carefully about how to tackle it, if at all. Well, time for a second coffee before heading to Coutances in as relaxed a manner as I can muster.
Admittedly the first 20Km this morning was necessarily generally up hill as I was starting at sea level, the campsite being over the road from the beach. Even so my get-up-and-go just wasn't there. I'm not saying my get-up-and-go had got-up-and-gone, no, it had never turned up in the first place.
What to do? Turning to science I downed three shots of coffee spread over two cups of café crème and two snickers bars. The effects were immediate, I'm not saying I was faster or stronger but I was certainly fired up for some serious cycling, or as serious as you can be when loaded up with full camping gear. Anyway, some fun cycling was had by all, by which I mean me.
After another 28Km I feel my energy levels slip so stop for a top-up which is a repeat of breakfast. Tartine (pronounced tar-TEEN) or bread and jam; what the French really eat for breakfast. This is perhaps unnecessary as I only have 12Km to go but it will power me through the shower and laundry routine as I am at a hotel tonight and need a deep clean of, well, everything.
And laundry today will include my cycling shorts. I wear a casual cycling short which is made of a kind of stretch denim so they are hard-wearing and have seams in places more suited to the cyclist. I brought one pair and imagined if I didn't launder them then they would be able to stand up by themselves, and then towards the end of the tour be able to take on some pedalling effort. This science experiment hasn't yielded the expected results. In the cycle queue to board the ferry I had expected to say "Yes, I know I stink, but my shorts do 20% of the cycling work!" Without this defence tonight is my shorts laundry night.
I am on a haribo high and ready to nail that last 12Km.
I was ambivalent about today in a "I hope Coutances is worth the schlep" kind of way. Despite the lack of Patisserie stops or notable sights it was just a great day to be out on a bike. Ideal weather, good roads, lovely scenery and I wasn't killed.
I did nearly have someone pull out in front of me and in France they may have had right of way - you can never be sure. Anyway, the person with the wheelbarrow saw me in time and stopped. Phew! That quite possibly prevented the headline "Tour cut short due to wheely bad crash". Sorry, that is the best I can muster under the circumstances as I am at tonight's hotel and have just wrestled my shorts into the shower for their first and only wash of this tour and that has drained my energy reserves.
Day 28
Most of the campsites I have stayed at have asked if I want electricity. The camper vans certainly want it and some touring cyclists may carry a short power lead so they can recharge devices if they are not using a dynamo or a solar panel. I have only seen one solar panel and that person was hooked up to mains electricity at a campsite; enough said. I am using a power bank to see me through to the next hotel recharge and that is working well.
Back in 1910 electricity in a hotel setting was still relatively new and hotels were keen to advertise the fact. I suppose in more recent times it was WiFi that establishments were keen to advertise.
Back in 1910 electricity in a hotel setting was still relatively new and hotels were keen to advertise the fact. I suppose in more recent times it was WiFi that establishments were keen to advertise.
I've tried not to go on about churches and cathedrals, though I know I've said a bit about calvaries. Depending on how you want to count it I'd cycled 100Km to see Coutances cathedral and it's the same to get back on track in Brittany so I'll say a few words. My 1910 guide tells me that the cathedral is one of the finest Gothic cathedrals in Normandy dating from the 13th century. Visiting Normandie's cathedrals has been on my bucket list since I turned 50 (yes I know, a long time) so this was a good trial. This Gothic cathedral with its high pointy arches and high everything was finished in 1274 and was built on the same footprint as its Norman predecessor. Started in 1210 the build time is short given the period and some cathedrals took much much longer.
Like many of the Norman churches I have seen the main tower is beautiful though without spire; in contrast in Brittany it seems like it is all about the spire. Today there are repairs being done as there were back 1910 and there must have been repairs post-1945 after very minor damage was caused during WW2. Following a 1910 guidebook has been interesting but I am conscious that I could have done a 200Km round trip to see some preserved ruins.
The height, the proportions, and attention to design and beauty are all present making it a space you just want to experience. Worth mentioning is the organ loft which is finely carved and supported by four carved wooden columns. In contrast to some organ lofts you get more of a sense of the loft in its own right rather than just a mezzanine type structure (a loft) to hold the all important organ, which in this case dates from 1728. At first I didn't even try to photograph the elegance of this cathedral.
Okay. A couple of shots of Coutances cathedral with it's spire-less main tower and twin spires. Frankly, even the flying buttresses look like ornaments and not an essential piece of bulk to stop the roof pushing the walls out.
I'd meant to take a photo of Vannes railway station as I was in the hotel opposite but that was the morning I felt quite unwell. That station was the original 1910 with a glass and plastic addition hiding the original. This is much like King's Cross in London where the original simple but effective brick frontage by Lewis Cubitt (brother of the well-known Thomas Cubitt) was hidden from view until the recent refurbishment which reveals that 1800s brickwork in all its simple glory.
I have mentioned the disused branch lines and thought it fair to mention that the mainline trains still run and I had criss-crossed the Avranche to Coutances line to get here. Walking downhill out of the town centre I was both disappointed at the dull architecture and impressed that there is still a place for rail travel. A train pulls in and I notice that as well as the SNCF insignia there is the Normandy flag comprising two yellow leopards on a red background, a nod to the regionality of France.
Liberté, égalité, fraternité
. This National motto is still very evident and I have seen elements written in fresh paint on roads. Though we are right to think of it as originating from the French Revolution, at the time (1789) it was just one of many slogans and it took about 100 years for it to be institutionalised at the time of the third Republic. France's current form of government, the fifth Republic came into being in 1958.The UK doesn't have a National motto and the Sovereign's motto in the UK is, well, written in French. We are all too aware of the 1066 Norman invasion of England as it was significant and lends itself to History lessons. Over the centuries there have been many changes in the balance of power and getting back to Coutances, this town was given up by the English in 1449 following England's taking of Normandy at the start of that century.
Oh, and given the Vikings invaded Normandy and populated it with their own in the 900s I expect there was more than a little Viking skin (and blood) in the game come the 1066 invasion of England.
