Finistère: The End of the Earth

Finistère—from the Latin "finis terrae," land's end—forms Brittany's western extremity, where the peninsula fractures into a complex geography of capes, bays, and islands. This is Brittany at its most elemental: windswept heaths ending in vertical cliffs, tiny ports tucked into rocky coves, islands that seem to float between sea and sky.

The Crozon Peninsula epitomizes this landscape. Its dramatic cliffs and hidden beaches have been shaped by Atlantic storms into arches, stacks, and caves. The military has long recognized the peninsula's strategic importance—fortifications from Vauban's 17th-century citadel to German World War II bunkers crown its headlands. Today, much of the peninsula falls within the Armorique Natural Regional Park, protecting both its natural beauty and traditional ways of life.

Douarnenez, on the peninsula's north side, built its fortune on sardines. In the early 20th century, this was one of Europe's most important fishing ports, its canneries employing thousands of women—the celebrated "Penn Sardin"—whose strike in 1924 became a landmark in French labor history. The industry's collapse in the 1950s forced painful adaptation, but Douarnenez has reinvented itself around maritime heritage, its port-museum preserving traditional boats from across Europe while the living port continues to land fish.

The Pointe du Raz, where Finistère reaches furthest into the Atlantic, draws visitors to experience Brittany at its most dramatic. The commercialization of this sacred site—Bretons traditionally came here to contemplate mortality while watching souls depart for the afterlife—led to one of France's first major environmental restoration projects. Parking was moved inland, buildings demolished, and heathland restored, allowing the Pointe to regain some of its wild dignity.

Beyond the Pointe du Raz lies the Île de Sein, a ribbon of land so low that storm waves wash completely over it. The island's entire male population—128 men—joined De Gaulle's Free French in 1940, leading the general to declare that Sein was "a quarter of France." Today, barely 200 people maintain this outpost, dependent on fishing and increasingly on tourism, but determined to keep their island alive.