I am so full of rage that I fear I might wrench the steering wheel and crash into something. Into one of the many cars clogging the road on both sides, or into the nearest tree, the nearest wall, the nearest railing. I don’t want to be here, not at this time and under these conditions.

Ploumanac’h is a small harbor town, known for its pink granite coast and a lighthouse built from the same stone that gave the coast its name. We had been here before, back when we lived in Pleumeur-Bodou. That’s only a few minutes away by car. But today is a day when this place seems unreachable by car.

The two larger parking lots are completely full, as are the narrow streets. Cars are parked everywhere and people stroll about. It’s impossible to snag a free spot. Moreover, the parking lots charge fees, which wasn’t the case back then and shouldn’t be the case at this time of year either, since it’s not yet high season.

Coming here was a mistake. We drove for over an hour and now can’t find a place to park. And even if we were to find one – this excursion can no longer be salvaged. I lost my inner equilibrium long ago, and among all these people here, of whom there are simply far too many, I wouldn’t regain it. Thus only one way out remains: the return journey.

During this drive we don’t speak a word. Everyone is occupied with their disappointment and anger, so there’s nothing to say. Every word could be the wrong word in this situation. We got up earlier, but that didn’t help. The day seems lost. But I don’t give up on it completely. On the way back we drive through the Forêt de Beffou, a protected forest area. There we stop and take one of the hiking trails.

What awaits us here surprises me positively. I need some time until the place unfolds its effect on me. The quiet and the songs of the birds, the fresh air and the lush nature, but especially the absence of people – that is what grounds me. The farther we walk and the deeper we venture into the forest, the more calming its effect on me becomes.

In the end we cover over eight kilometers – an unexpectedly long distance that we hadn’t planned like this. But this hike saves the day. The disappointment about the wasted excursion to the granite coast is thereby eased, not entirely gone. But my soul has calmed down. That’s something I hadn’t expected, but I’m grateful for it.