How I managed not to see a single dolmen in Brittany

Some say the best thing about travelling lies in the unexpected twists and turns. In France, sometimes you have to just shelve your plans and be prepared to be surprised. On the Costa Blanca, where I live in in Spain, there are 300 days of sunshine per year... so in setting out for Brittany I wanted to get my fill of high tides, gentle rain, dolmens, menhirs and spine-chilling legends...

DAY 1: 'There are mountains near Brest.' The guy from the TGV isn't joking. I follow the directions as far as the Arrée Mountains. There, in the lunar landscape, and enjoying the glorious sunshine that turns all the usual clichés on their head, I get joyously lost looking for a row of little menhirs known as 'la Noce de Pierre' or 'Peter's wedding'.

DAY 2: It's my birthday. I have planned to meet up with friends in the port of Diben at Plougasnou. We set off to see a colony of grey seals. And then someone hands me a diving suit: 'This is your present!' So I end up swimming with the seals!

DAY 3: Carnac is like the megalith capital. And yet I don't go to see them, You see, there was a free space this morning at the organic spa in Carnac! Yes, yes I know…

DAY 4: I could make up for it on the Quiberon peninsula. But instead, I stand there, mouth wide open and amazed by the wild waters crashing against the black rocks of the Côte Sauvage. As it's raining, I decide to buy myself one of those jolly sailor sweaters, with three buttons on the shoulder."

DAY 5: In Locmariaquer, I ask the first passer-by about the best place to go and eat oysters. And so here I am at the 'Petit Chantier', a tiny restaurant at the water's edge. Hmm, there are no dolmens here either!

DAY 6: In Saint-Malo, I forget all about the dolmens, but find a really funny shop called La Droguerie de Marine. They sell everything you need to scrub and polish your boat, but also a load of books, stories and novels – the perfect way to pass the time when there's no wind in your sails.

Getting to Brittany