Like this? Follow me:

I’m in the St Brieuc area (Plerin), right now, left the Mont St. Michel area around 10:00am. Pretty long haul and very trying. Lots of getting lost, but it’s not so bad. The worst has been attempting to enter St Brieuc – the larger highways really take over and I had a very hard time finding a local road.

I finally couldn’t, but following a sign to Brest (hey, where I’m going anyways) to a, “N” highway, the on ramp including, of all things, a bike sign, so I followed that,

and wouldn’t you know, there’s an on ramp exclusively for bicycles. This lead me onto a beautiful bridge with a view north of the bay, a castle on a hill, the neighborhoods surrounding me and a marina below. I’m on the outskirts of the town and although the 2 star hotel (probably around 40 euro) just across the street from this Unmentionable Place looks tempting, a quick Google Map check shows that the local road I was looking for all this time is about 400 meters away, so I’m taking that and crashing in the first lush field I find.

Mount St. Michel was pretty interesting, but deserves its own post. I will say that right before I went, I decided to treat myself to some food, as the donations allow me to… eat!

I found the dirtiest looking cafe on a forgotten side street which had a big sign for, ” Moules Frites – 8 Euro”, sat down and told the guy, I’d take that. He said some things I couldn’t understand (which is usual for me), so I , “oui!” my way out of it, and waited. The patrons of this place were awesome. People missing teeth, with horrible haircuts. Everyone’s a local except me and I stand straight out.

Ten minutes later this gigantic bowl of mussels and fries landed on my lap. I mean, big. French are foodies. They love food, but the portions are manageable. I’m an Eatie. I love to eat. 4? 5? 6? Dozen mussels in this bowl? So Many mussels and i was to eat them all. I wanted to take a picture – you would have never believed, but thought against such tom-foolery. Not here.

But I got sort of worried. Was this the 8 euro Moules Frites, or did I “Oui!” my way into a much larger bill?

I was really hungry and in the very immediate present, I didn’t quite care.

And, I managed to eat every single fry and every single mussel. I took every piece of bread on the table and sopped up the rest of the mussel juice. And I was beginning to get high. Mussels – shellfish get me high. I love everyone and everything and I just stumble around going, “I love you” and, “I’m high”. So,

so that was setting in.

I get the bill.

There’s the 8 euro figure on there. And then I completely freak out, as there’s some sort of other large number – to the tune of something like, 53.48.

No label – I can’t figure out what’s going on.

Did I eat my way into a problem? I had the cash, so I put 60 euros down and the guy looks at me like I’m a stupid tourist, gives me back the 50 euro note and takes the 10 euro note, only to come back with 2 euros.

That was, indeed the 8 euro Moules Frites.

And I was happy. In this state of elation that I didn’t do something stupid and high from shellfish, I strolled to Mount St. Michel.

What also was in my mind was memories of making mussels with my family. The recipe here really wasn’t so different.

Support Justin on Patreon!
Become a patron at Patreon!

Newest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
15 years ago


15 years ago

is the other number the price in french francs?