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May 21. Brest, France

It was early morning and I wanted to get started promptly. Aside from my phone's alarm piercing my ear drums at 0600 I awoke to the sound of daily hustle and the smell of French baguette. First prority was to get down to the small coffee shop just below the quaint hotel/room for rent that I was staying in and drink in the bold, robust wonder that is French cofee tasting as if the grounds were just produced just hours ago. After a bite and some much needed caffeine I was off to the festival that was being held down by the waterfront. Situated off the northwest coast of the country, Brest has an annual festival by the historical and monumental castles that were once used to defend the nation and overlook the town itself. They still stand today and cast shadows of old the way they did centuries ago. Today we celebrate the town, it's people, and the history with food and drink and play. Tents have tables of a variety of beers on tap and the small helpings of vendor food are truly a delight. For the next two hours it was one hearty acquaintance after another and language barriers held no means. After leaving, I had made some friends and left feeling a relief that contrary to popular belief we as Americans can actually get along well with the French. Of course a little booze helps...