I waxed poetic about Le Pelican in Rochefort-en-Terre recently but I could wax onward poetically about the little town of artists. Rochefort is a tourist's dream.
After lunch, The Frog, Frogger-in-law and I searched for the entrance to the chateau at the peak of this town. The castle ruins here had been bought by an artist who built his home on the same grounds. The ruin still exists and the house has been converted, partly, into a museum. The museum was okay but I liked the park, gardens and ruins better. I was particularly charmed by the wishing well in the courtyard. Alas, my camera died here and I was quite without a charged battery so I couldn't get much juice left to take pictures of the church and town.
We visited the church and enjoyed its charms but it was the town that took my breath away. The town is a warren of little streets and stone steps. A number of shops nestle up against the main streets. Many building have vines and climbing bushes, some flowered, enhancing the already fairytale-like town square. The collection of shops would make a persons in love with books, crafts, baked goods and sugary confections fall madly in love.
The store I remembered the most was the confectioners and not just because it was one of the few shops with air-conditioning (really not that common in Europe) on that muggy day. I never did buy anything there but it was worth just walking around, ogling at all the varieties and quality and gem-like creations. My mind is swirling with all the confections that were there that day. They are all a whirl of candied fruit, marzipan, chocolate mousse and other such delights but I remember distinctly that ice cream I regret not getting--rose-pistachio ice cream. A number of the ice creams there looked to be a foodie's delight but the desire to have rose-flavoured ice cream still yanks at my imagination.