The Ankou
The grinning figure of death carved on a Breton church is not just some generic reminder of mortality - he's somebody you know personally... exploring a French Connection to ancient Celtic traditions.
It’s beautiful in Finistère, but there are times when the sea mist hangs a little too long on the tops. Chilly winds blow down into the valleys, and it’s suddenly obvious why the writer MR James set some of his most frightening ghost stories in this landscape of wilderness and mystery. Away from the oysters and sunshine, Brittany can be surly and overbearing at dawn, thatched with brambles and bracken heaped in stinking, dripsy mounds which reek of rot and the rise of autumn. You might be standing in the rosiest, sun-blessed orchard, comfortable and surrounded by friends – but then a dank wind sweeps down from higher ground – and in gaps between the folding hills, the distant view is only more hills, with nothing warm to commend them.
