Le Croisic

Le Croisic sits at the very tip of the Guérande peninsula, at the end of a spit of land so narrow that from the belfry of the old church you can see open ocean on one side and the flat glitter of the salt marshes on the other. It’s technically only a few kilometers from La Baule, whose beach hotels you can spot across the bay, but the two towns feel like they belong to different centuries. La Baule is all Belle Époque leisure; Le Croisic is a port that still fishes for a living, and I like it better for exactly that reason.

A harbor that never really stopped working

The quay along the Grand Traict is lined with trawlers, not yachts, and the fish auction still runs most mornings the way it has for generations — the criée, where the night’s catch gets sold off in a fast, half-shouted ritual that outsiders are welcome to watch from a respectful distance but not to interrupt. We got up early once specifically to see it, coffee in hand, and stood at the edge of the hall while buyers in rubber boots argued prices over crates of langoustines and sole in a Breton-accented French I only caught half of. Behind the working harbor, the old town climbs a low hill in narrow granite-fronted streets that were built by shipowners in the 17th and 18th centuries, when Le Croisic was wealthy enough off cod fishing and salt trading to build itself a proper Renaissance-fronted church and a scatter of solid townhouses that still stand.

Ocean science at the edge of the marsh

What sets Le Croisic apart from every other fishing port on this coast is Océarium, an aquarium built directly into the old harbor basin, and the fact that the town has quietly become something of a hub for marine science — there’s a research station here too, tucked behind the fishing quarter, studying the same tidal flats and marsh channels that surround the peninsula. Lia, who will detour for any aquarium regardless of how tired we are, made us stay so long in front of the shark tank that we missed our lunch reservation two days running, which tells you something about how good it is. Walk out past the aquarium to the Pointe du Croisic and the landscape changes fast — heathland and low pines give way to a rocky, wind-scoured coastline that looks nothing like the sheltered marshes just inland, waves breaking over black rock shelves while, a few hundred meters back, egrets stand motionless in the salt pans.

When to go: Visit between May and September for the best weather and to catch the fish auction and harbor at their busiest, arriving before 8am if you want to see the criée itself. Outside summer the town empties out considerably, which has its own appeal if you want the harbor without the crowds, but check that the aquarium and smaller restaurants are actually open before making the trip.