A castle in Bretagne

I don't know much about Bretagne, except that it is a french province located in the Northwest, in normand territory. Different from porvenzal landscapes, maybe with a little more sun, normand landscapes tend to be simple, with not-so-many elements in them. Even if it's summer and sunlight is intense, always I can perceive some "coldness" -sorry I couldn't find a better word- in the pictures I see, like a distance between the place and the spectator, as if that landscape belonged to a dream or any other memory already lost in the past, in a different time.

That was the impression a picture with a little castle in Bretagne, next to the sea, left in me. Priceless. Not just because of the picture itself, but the images that it suggests to anyone who looks at it. When I see it, I feel like I was in 1200, or earlier, and I imagine a sunset that tries to reflects its colors in the waters of the sea, overwhelmingly blue. From that castle I look at the beautiful landscape, and at that moment the only thing I listen is the wind coming from the sea. The only thing I smell is a "mixing" of grass and salt, and then just the sky, the sea, the castle and me give life to that little piece of time that has been lended to us.

A friend that lives in France says that for him Bretagne is the "real France". Far away from the metro, countless advertisements and piles of tourists. Maybe. I should have to go personally, get that moment out of my imagination and give it life, and enlighten it and make it breath, because reality has a special way to overcome fiction -even if sometimes it just can't.