Del da Foster is showing us his 18 speed bicycle. It lies back on a sand dune in the town of Dossen, and the sun shines glorifying its beautiful yellow tone. All his belongings - skateboards, porcelain cats and three flying wall ducks - are arranged to defy physics over the back wheel. “It does instant wheelies if you pull up on the handle bars” he pulled upwards every so lightly. And the bicycle reared back like a stallion. “Cool” we all say. Del is a nice person - plain and simple. He is also a Portuguese merchant grandmother - never to throw anything away. Hellybutt admires Del’s chinese gold-prospector moustache then looks over at the Ile de Sieck - which was once a bustling sardine fishing station (so says the marine biologist from Roscoff), but something happened out there on that island, something nobody was willing to talk about - and the place was now deserted. The morbid mystery of North Brittany thinks Hellybutt. Then again you could walk off the island at low-tide, so maybe the inhabitants got bored and left for better t.v. reception on the mainland. Nope no story in this town. And Bodean said that all the sea birds here looked too healthy - no photo opportunities either. So after a day of rest and feasting on delicious razor sharp baguettes the caravan packed up to move further west. Heading to somewhere called Ploudalmezeau.
