It has been 20 years since I took an interest in megalith ruins. I believe it was a stone monument in Asuka that has given me a start, but ever since then, I have been visiting megalith at various places under the pretext of work, and having a smile of satisfaction.

Then, that developed into visiting the Bretagne region this time.

Bretagne is a region located in a peninsula, sticking out into the Atlantic Ocean, in the southeast of Paris. The name of region is derived from an English term, Brittany. In other word, it indicates Britain, or England.

The aborigines of Europe, Celtic, were driven out of the middle Europe to the outskirts, just like Jomon men were driven to a remote region by newcomers, Yayoi men, as in Japan. Then Celtic was finally forced to cross the Strait of Dover, and went over to an island of England. But when they later regained power to some extent in the 5th Century, they crossed the ocean once again to go back to the continent. That was how they, from their home district called Great Britain, named the peninsula where they arrived as Petit Britain, which then became to be known as Bretagne.

So, though a French region, Bretagne is not really like France.

To give a simple example, France is commonly associated with wine, but the climate of this region is too cold to grow grapes, and so that it is the only place not producing wine. Instead, there is an alcoholic beverage called cidre, made of apples. It tastes like light wine with very little froth. And, one of the most famous local dishes is a crepe made of buckwheat.

You see? That is what they have; apples and buckwheat.

I bet you can easily imagine how cold and poor the region is. Although it is a part of France, an agricultural giant, Bretagne is not receiving benefit from it.

So, the winter in Bretagne is extremely cold. To make it worse, it rains a lot. It is the worst time to visit there. However, I dared to go there in the beginning of December after all.

It was because I wanted to see the stone ruins, the things I love. In the region of Bretagne, even far before Celtic came over from England, there already were original Celtic people who left a great number of mysterious stone monuments such as stone-circle, dolmen, and others. And the most important one among those is in Carnac. It is believed to have built sometimes in 3-5 B.C, but though there are various theories, by whom, how, and why it has been built are still unknown.

Well, as for me, more than investigating into the truth, I just want to see it. I somehow feel affection toward stones.

With this thing and that, in the morning of one freezing winter day with a heavy sky, which was dark like the Sea of Japan in the winter, covered with leaden clouds, I headed for Carnac.

Visiting the megalith ruins in Carnac

As a base point to visit Carnac, I was staying at a town called Vannes. It was a stone-paved walled town with old rows of half-timbered houses from the medieval period still bearing their original states, and it really was a lovely town. That aside, there was no direct transportation available from there to Carnac, and I had to take a bus or train to go to a station called Auray first, and then to change a bus there.

Well, now that I was finally in the town of Carnac, it was such a lifeless place as if it were a dead town. To begin with, I went to a tourist information center, but since it was during the off-season, it was closed. I not only wanted to get information but also had a plan to rent a bicycle there. After all, there is no transportation service available in a place of ancient ruins in spite of its extensiveness. Just like how it is in Asuka and Kibi, it is best to move about by bicycle in such a place like this. But, all other rental shops, which should have been open, were closed as well. At any rate, it looked nothing but a ghost town.

Now as things came to this, I had no choice. Turning to an extremely unreliable map on a guidebook, I began walking in the direction, I believed, of the ruins.

As I was walking though a normal residential district, it suddenly came into view.

Oh wow, I was stunned with astonishment. It was such a stupendous excitement. Without a word, I just stood there for a while. What on earth is this? What with these lines? What with this scale?

In the ruins of Carnac, there were long and skinny stones standing perpendicularly and forming a line, which extends as far as some kilometers. Their heights vary from 2 to as large as 30 meters, but they were all standing in a line at regular intervals. Both on the right and left, the lines of stones were extending far to a distance.

I was satisfied. It really was worth being curious and coming to such an inconvenient, cold, and troublesome place all the way from Japan.

But, I should have stopped at this point. A winter day of Europe would be short, and it began to sprinkle with rain as well. Considering the course I took to get here, I should have thought of going back now.

Yet, I happened to find something. At a visitor's center, there was a picture of even larger stones. From the fact that the stone looked twice as tall as a person in the picture, it must be at least 5 meters tall. It was jetting out of the ground just like a sharp knife.

I want to see the actual object!

I learned how to get there at the visitor's center (Again, there was no map available), and started walking. But, the fact was that ancient ruins are just terribly extensive. I kept walking and walking for quite a while, and there still was nothing coming into view. Though I wanted to ask a direction, there was nobody else around.

At that time, just like the blessing of God, one woman came on a bicycle. I heard that she has been making a study of the ruins (Who else would be here on such a nasty day in this season). I then managed asking the direction, and found that it was still a long way. As I followed her direction, I finally found it!!!

Being known as a giant menhir, the stone was even wider that my outstretched arms. And it was three times as tall as me. It was soaring high heavenward in the dense forest. I was just very excited, impressed, and satisfied. Yet, the happy time was over before long.

The rain, which has been quite gentle until then, was getting heavier now. The sky was pitch-dark. It looked very threatening just as if a Godzilla would appear.

The way back was nothing but a time to bear. Because I was walking on an open field where I could see nothing else, I was just getting soaked to the skin. I did not have an umbrella with me. Wearing a Gore-Tex jacket, and covering my head with a hood, I kept walking forward silently with my head down.

What I suffered the most was the fact that I certainly was aware how many more hours I would have to keep bearing such a situation. It was not a pain to walk on the way to go because I knew there would be something exciting in the front, but on the way back, there would be no fun waiting for me.

I remembered a story of the Meiji era about a military march traveling Mt. Hakkouda in winter, and I sang a song from the movie recklessly; "We the army stepping on the ice in snowÉ" With cold, exhaustion, and helplessness from the situation that I still had to keep walking for ever, I was losing it.

I walked for a total of 5 straight hours. My shoes were completely drenched and making soggy sound, and my hands and feet were chilled to the bone and losing all feeling.

I barely managed not to get frostbitten. But comparing to the movie "Mt. Hakkouda in snow: Death roaming," we now call this harsh day in Carnac "Carnac in rain: Death march" at home, and handing down from people to people.

Translated by Maiko Noda