Hôtel Anne de Bretagne
Arrival in Saint-Malo felt like landing as an immigrant into a busy port city filled with strangers spending and locals selling food and lodging and remembrances. We stepped off the ferry late in the afternoon and walked through the first of three gates leading through the walls and into the walled city. We had to negotiate a mixture of cars, scooters, bicycles and lots of pedestrians, some strolling with no destination and others, destination driven, nearly running.
Hôtel Anne de Bretagne sits just three short blocks off the busy Rue Jacques Cartier but could be miles away. The only sound as we approached the hotel entrance was the rattle of luggage being wheeled over cobblestones. The room was spacious and the bathroom had both a shower and a tub. The second floor window opened out onto the street corner below from which came cafe sounds way into the night and to be replaced with seagulls and the swish of brooms at daylight. The first morning Lauren and I went out for a cup of coffee and to scout a bit. As we returned, strolling done Rue Sainte-Barbe, we looked up at our window to see Hannah awaiting our return.
One morning I went out alone for a walk along the ramparts that surround the city and were only a few steps away from the hotel. The morning light spilled across the harbor and fell against only the tallest of spires and chimneys and upper floor windows, then slowly began to fill the narrow streets as it climbed higher.
We left Saint-Malo on a Sunday morning before the first broom sweep a cafe floor, again the rattle of wheeled luggage echoing through the ancient port city’s ancient streets.