Picture postcard with decaying hulks of old fishing vessels, mini-cairns along the quai, pretty waterfront of crêperies, painted houses and bars with the odd simple stage for summer evening entertainment, changeable weather, not least a beach for young cooped-up legs to stretch out on.

But Camaret somehow flattered to deceive, with not-quite-as-good-as-we-expect crêpes from “the best crêperie in town”, little in the way of chandlery, and a marina shower block that made you want to turn straight back to the boat as soon as you entered (we did just that!). Perhaps it was just the torrential rain … or finishing our stock of Walkers crisps (I think we might need an airdrop)?

Still a great alternative to Brest in between the Chenal du Four and the Raz de Sein.