George East is a writer and humorist. His latest book about the culture, history, and food and drink (especially the food and drink) of Brittany comes out this summer, and he has kindly agreed to give our readers some sneak previews in the run-up to release. Todays excerpt explores the mythical Isle of Ys in the Bay of Douarnenez. Over to you George….
Isle of Ys
Somewhere beneath the waves in the bay of Douarnenez is said to lay a place with a history of nearly as much drama, sex and misery as a TV soap in desperate search of ratings.
The island city of Ys has several great stories associated with it, the most common and popular claiming it was built for the princess Dahut by her father Gralon, the king of the Cornouaille region.
As well as suffering from a shortage of vowels, the island was below sea level and protected by a gated dike for which the king held the only key. Ys was to become the most impressive and beautiful city in the world, but was also a byword for sin and corruption. Dahut was a bit of a ladette, and had a penchant for organizing orgies then killing her lovers when day broke. One fateful evening, a knight in red arrived and was invited to join in the fun. During the night, he suggested that Dahut steal the key from her sleeping father. She did, and the Devil (for it was of course he) threw open the gates and allowed the sea to swallow Ys. Enraged, the king threw Dahut into the oncoming torrent, where she became a mermaid, doomed to swim the lonely seas for eternity. As with all drowned cities, it is said that on stormy nights you can hear the bells of the church at Ys ring dolefully out, and sometimes even the mournful cries of the lonely mermaid.
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To be found just before the most south-westerly point turns the corner and becomes the south coast of Brittany, Penmarc’h dates back to before the 14th century, and owed its early prosperity to the fecund cod banks there. The discovery of the vast sea riches of Newfoundland and the attentions of a single but truly ferocious bandit in the late 16th century combined to bring about the decline of the town. The aggressor was an aristocratic thug known as The Wolf, who with his gang of four hundred followers enjoyed sacking, looting and pillaging this part of Brittany. After having his way with Penmarc’h in 1595, The Wolf moved on to the isle of Tristan to set up his HQ. In the process he forced the inhabitants to destroy their own homes, and killed 1, 500 protestors in a single day. His vast hoard of booty was said to be secreted on the isle, and may still be there.
Altogether a very interesting part of the region, and well worth visiting with bucket and spade if you fancy having a look for the Lost Treasure of Tristan.
