On Sunday we visited another beaux village, Locronan. We had been here about 30 years ago with Denis’ Mum and our two small (at the time) children. And it hasn’t changed in all those years. It probably hasn’t changed in 1000 years but I can only vouch for the last thirty.

It’s a town full of stone buildings. As in Carnac, stone is a plentiful here as salt and so they used what they had. And stone lasts. Just a little smattering of green or white lichen to colour things up but otherwise unchanged since they were built. It was Sunday so lots of visitors and more camper vans than cars. It was an overcast day but we had no rain as we walked around taking picture after picture.

I hadn’t remembered or maybe I never knew but the saint the church and town is named after is Saint Ronan, an Irish saint and hermit who lived in Brittany. The village’s name Locronan means place of Ronan. Ronan was a well educated Irishman who became a bishop and was known for ho good works. But at that time being a bishop was a career path (maybe it still is?) and he got fed up with it and wanted to go back to basics.

So he went into voluntary exile and travelled to France and set up a hermitage (secluded residence or private retreat from google) in the woods which would later become Locronan. He lived a prayerful quiet life but people were drawn to him. There was some drama, some miracles and some cures both before and after he died. But eventually, the former bishop and hermit Ronan was proclaimed a saint.

It was only fair really, St. Patrick came to Ireland from Brittany (although it might have been Wales) and Saint Ronan came to Brittany from Ireland.

Like exchange saints.