Brittany, France: A Slow Dance with Time and Tradition

As I sit at my keyboard, trying to find the right words to describe Brittany, I find myself leaning more toward feeling than explaining. There’s something about this region that doesn’t fit neatly into words - it wants to be experienced, not just talked about. Brittany isn’t polished like Paris or glowing like Provence. Instead, she reveals herself slowly, layer by layer - rich with history, a little untamed, and quietly beautiful in a way that sneaks into your heart when you’re not expecting it.

As Carla and I wander through this soulful part of France, it doesn’t feel like we are visiting a place - it feels like we are stepping into something timeless. Brittany has a rhythm all her own. She asks you to slow down, to take your time, to listen and feel. She asks you to be present.

In Brittany, the past and present live side by side. The old stone houses seem to hold memories. The forests feel like they’re still listening. And the coast sings in a language older than words. Life moves with a quieter rhythm here - steady, deep, and grounding.

Brittany is a big region with much to see, so Carla and I chose to stay in two bases. In the south, we picked Vannes, and in the north, Dinan. Both turned out to be perfect choices - each one was centrally located and full of charm, history, and that unique Breton spirit we’ve come to really love.

Next week, I’ll write more about Vannes and Dinan specifically and share photos and stories from our time in both. But before I do, I wanted to step back and give a broader look at Brittany itself - and why it’s such a unique and special part of France.

Brittany (or “Bretagne” in French) is tucked into the northwest corner of the country, surrounded on three sides by water. The English Channel lies to the north, the Bay of Biscay to the south, and the Atlantic Ocean stretches out to the west. It’s got over 2,800 kilometers (1,740 miles) of coastline, with dramatic cliffs, sandy beaches, fishing ports, and scattered islands. It’s a region shaped by the sea - and you feel that influence everywhere.

From the start, we noticed that Brittany doesn’t feel “typically French.” It has its own spirit, culture, and way of life. People here speak not only French but also Breton, a Celtic language more closely related to Welsh or Cornish than anything you’d hear in Paris. Signs are often bilingual, and you’ll hear traditional Breton music in the streets - full of pipes, harps, and instruments I couldn’t name but loved listening to.

Brittany has a long and interesting history. It was its own independent duchy until the 1500s when it became part of France. Even still, it maintains a strong sense of its own identity. The people here are proud and independent, and you can feel that in the local culture.

The architecture in Brittany really caught our attention. In the countryside, we saw strong old stone houses made from local granite – sturdy and weathered from years of rain and wind. These homes were clearly built to last, with thick walls and small windows. And yet, they are softened by touches of beauty - charming flower boxes and ivy growing up the sides - making them feel both rugged and welcoming.

In towns like Vannes and Dinan, there are also rows of beautiful half-timbered houses - colorful, slightly crooked buildings that date back hundreds of years. They line the narrow, cobblestone streets and look like something straight out of a storybook. Every one of them seems to tilt just a bit differently, giving the whole street a feeling of personality and warmth that only adds to their charm.

And then there’s the food. Of course, Brittany is famous for its crêpes and galettes (the savory buckwheat version), and we’ve enjoyed more than our fair share. But one of the biggest culinary surprises for us was the cider. Breton cider - called “cidre breton” - is a real treat. It’s not sweet like many American ciders. It’s earthy, dry, and full of character. The best part is that much of it is still made in small batches by families and farmers who’ve been doing it for generations. Drinking it alongside a warm galette feels like tasting a piece of the region’s history.

A testament to the beauty and power of Brittany is that the artist Paul Gauguin was deeply drawn to it. He developed a strong, lasting connection to the region - one that shaped his own creative path and even played a role in the evolution of modern art.

In the late 1880s, Gauguin began spending long stretches of time in the small town of Pont-Aven, located in Brittany. At that time, Pont-Aven was a popular spot for artists from Paris and other places. The area was known for its beautiful countryside, unique Breton traditions, and low cost of living. But for Gauguin, it was more than just a pretty or affordable place to paint - it became a powerful source of inspiration and change.

He once said: “I love Brittany. I find a certain wildness and primitiveness here.”

That sense of “wildness” was exactly what Gauguin had been searching for. He was disillusioned with the formal art world in Paris and longed for something more raw, more emotionally honest, and more spiritually alive. In Brittany, he found what he had been missing.

After spending a month here, I’ve come to see that Brittany is both fully French and completely its own. And that realization reminded me how easy it is to make assumptions when we travel. We visit a country and quickly sum it up - “The French are like this,” or “The Italians are like that.” But the truth is, no country is just one thing. Every place is made up of different regions, cultures, traditions, and people. And the more we slow down and stay awhile, the more we start to notice those differences.

The France we experienced in Brittany is nothing like the France of Paris, or the Loire Valley, or Provence. Just like New York and New Mexico show very different sides of America, Brittany tells its own unique version of the French story. It’s French, yes - but also deeply Breton. Coastal and wild, yet warm and grounded. Its roots reach into Celtic and Gaelic traditions, even as it remains fully part of modern France. That mix of identities is exactly what made our time here so memorable.

To truly know a place - or a country - we have to let go of our assumptions. We have to show up with open eyes and open hearts, ready to listen. Brittany reminded me just how important that is.