Dreaming of Dinan.

Back in June of this year, this lovely lady wrote a blog post entitled ‘Heaven Revisited’. Helen also emailed me to let me know that she had written the post, as she felt sure I would be interested and that I should read it (thanks again H!) As a lover of all things French, I certainly was interested!

The little shop in Dinan looked an absolute treasure – certainly my idea of heaven on Earth too. But even more exciting for me, was the possibility that I would actually be able to pay a visit to this special place. We were due to travel to France last month (Our annual holiday had been booked since last year) and so a quick type into ‘Google’ had me very, very excited!

It turned out that the pretty medieval town of Dinan was only an hour and twenty minutes from where we were staying. I printed out the map, showed it to hubby and said that if I only did this one thing for ‘me’ all holiday; I would be a happy bunny indeed! ;-))
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On the Thursday of our week away, we travelled northwards and finally made it to Dinan. It’s a bustling medieval town with enchanting views at every turn.

We started off with a walk around the town centre, followed by lunch in one of the many cafés. Afterwards, the search began for the tiny haberdashery.

Going by the information on Google, we pictured it to be on a steep cobbled street, so we took the road down to the harbour…

and there it was…

I instantly recognised the inviting façade from the photo on Helen’s blog post…but can you believe it?

The shop was CLOSED!!!

I peered in through the windows and caught tantalising glimpses of ribbons, Deco buttons and lace edgings that would not have looked out of place in a specialist shop of the 1920’s. A notice on the door advised customers that the shop was open every day, but would be closed for two hours at lunchtime. (What is it with the French and their long lunch breaks?! ;-)) Phew…at least it looked as if I would still get to step inside, I just needed to be patient.

So tearing myself away from the seductive window displays, we made our way down the road to the river. It’s a pretty area with plenty going on and it wasn’t long before hubby spotted boat trip tickets being sold. Perfect! I suggested that he take the girls on the one hour tour and I would head back up the hill to the shop, where I could peruse in peace!

So that was the plan.

I waved them off before skipping up the hill…only to find the shop still CLOSED!!

I assumed that my luck was out and thought that I’d just peer in through the windows one more time, just to torment myself a little more :(

…and there it was

…a tiny hand written sign, saying that the shop would be opening a half an hour later than normal today, at 2.30pm.

OK…

that’s OK…

I can live with that…

that would still give me half an hour to soak up the ambience inside…

I sat down on a stone bench opposite the shop watching people negotiating the steep cobbled street, many stopping to peer inside the shop and looking rather sad that it was in fact closed. The blue shuttered windows echoed the skies over Dinan that day and I felt happy to be sat there on my lonesome, with butterflies twitching in my tummy with anticipation. (What can I say? I’m easily pleased!)

2.30pm came and went, and still the painted door stayed firmly closed.

2.35pm….

was I agitated?

Yes, I was!!

Finally at 2.40pm, a clink of keys in the lock and the shop door swung open.

By this stage I didn’t need any prompting; I leapt up and walked over to the ancient shop with its cool and shadowy interior and stepped inside…

Where to start?

There were shelves lined with huge glass jars crammed to the brim with colourful spools of silken threads.

A rainbow of assorted vintage buttons filled miniature wooden drawers.

Bobbin shelves were stuffed with enticing antique tins,

fragile baskets swung from washing lines suspended from the ceiling,

and cards bound in antique lace edgings and ribbons filled boxes on the counter tops.

Madame could clearly read my enthusiasm for her riches and we struck up conversation.

She brought out ribbons and trims for me to sort through and we both marvelled at the delicate sequined adornments of many, that had so painstakingly been constructed by hand all those years ago…

a language barrier divided us, but a common appreciation for fine workmanship that has long since been lost, united us. It was very difficult to choose just a few items from the collections, but I finally made my selection…

It was then, as we exchanged a few more words upon payment, that I noticed a sign which read ‘no photographs’!

How could I share this wonderful shop with all the lovely bloggy ladies, if I couldn’t take a few pictures? Thankfully, Madame understood, as she has a blog too!

I was granted special permission to take some photos to share with you!

(Apparently, lots of people used to step inside the shop, take photos and then leave, having bought nothing – which understandably was frustrating for her. Its like a little museum inside, with many of the artefacts being ‘display only’)

Well, I did cause a little bit of a stir, and received a few horrified looks from some of the other customers as I snapped away with my camera, but I was unable to explain in good enough French that I had been given permission, so tried to be discrete!

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It wasn’t long before my half an hour was up and I had to leave the atmospheric wonderland…we said our goodbyes and I left, blinking as I stepped back out into the sunlight again, and smiling to myself that this was indeed one of the highlights of our holiday…

My purchases from the day:

1930's handmade ribbon flowers.

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Original seed packets.

Millinery flowers and sequined trims.

And a set of postcards featuring some of the treasures to be found in the magical shop. The diary was a gift from Claude.

Niki x