If you are after a bit of luxury then this is the place to stay in Carteret, France. We were met by the owners on our arrival who carried our bags into the apartment. The place was spotlessly clean with a bottle of good wine and some local biscuits waiting for us. The main bedroom has an en-suite bathroom and a balcony with views over the estuary. The second bedroom has an en-suite shower room. The kitchen had only been installed a few months before and was very high quality with built in oven, built in microwave, induction hob, coffee machine, dishwasher etc. The lounge was very comfy with a leather sofa and chairs, flat screen television, and views over the estuary. We loved all the extra touches such as locally made lamps using grape vine and the dining table made with a slab of river bedrock. We would highly recommend this to anyone, and the prices are not bad.
The selling point for this apartment is the ideal position. Not only is it on the waterfront, but it is in the centre of the town. Every morning we would wander across the road to the boulangerie for our freshly made croissants. Again right opposite is an amazing deli with mainly locally sourced produce. We had a good choice of 9 restaurants that we could walk to and the Bar de Port with live music is only a couple of minutes walk away. When we wanted the beach we only had a 5 minute walk to spotlessly clean sand. The Thursday market was only two minutes walk away, as was the tourist train or the ferry to the Channel Islands.
""Regardez! Ma grand chose!", said Ioan in loud stilted French.
"Alors! C'est bon", I replied in the gloom.
"peut-etre ma grand chose dans vos fesses?", he suggested.
"Est-ce que le petit dejeuner compris?", I replied.
If that wasn't enough to convince the neighbours they were sharing a patch of grass with the demented, the fiasco in the middle of the night must have sealed it. Ioan had wandered out in the early hours of the morning to use the toilet, and blundering around in the dark his large clumsy body had fallen onto the tent, pinning me to the ground underneath. I'd woken up to find myself smothered by the polythene flysheet, and crushed under the heavy weight of Ioan's torso. Thinking I was under attack, I cursed and shouted at my imagined assailant, and attempted to wrestle the body off me. It was too dark to rebuild the tent, so we spent the rest of the night sleeping under what remained of the tent. The sight of two bodies collapsed next to each other under a mountain of polythene must have perplexed the poor families nearby. The commotion had probably woken everyone within a hundred yards, and the next day we decided not to linger before hitting the road. " - from my travelogue.
There are three camping grounds in Carteret, but I haven't a clue which one I stayed at, although I remember it had a big goose and was pretty central. Like most camping grounds in France, I'm sure they are all very nice. You can find a list of them here, along with those in nearby villages.
Sort by: Most recent | Most helpful