Six hours from Paris ? Really ? Six hours ? You could nearly drive to Ventoux from Calais in that time!

Bretagne literally could not be further away from our home on the Côte d'Azur, nearly 1500km away in the polar opposite corner of the country. But whether it be the rich maritime and naval history and, as a consequence a shared penchant for seafood cuisine, or the shared sense of unique regional identity, there are common themes that connect the two regions.

But, as someone on Inrng.com once said of Brittany , 'It's France....but different'

Whereas the Côte d'Azur is the modern-day professional cyclist's paradise, Bretagne has a deeper cycling history. Lucien Petit-Breton, Jean Robic, the Bobet brothers, Hinault, the Madiot brothers and more recently Warren Barguil. Hard men from the other part of northern France. It's accepted parlance that the history, geography and weather that beats the westerly part of Brittany, create riders who ride hard and aggressively. Riders who excel in the Tro-Bro Léon.

The Tro-Bro Léon is, a bit like the Strade Bianche, a new race established in 1984 for local amateurs. In 2000 it was opened up to the professional ranks and since then has been growing in fashion year on year. It's a unique event, highlighted by the fact that the top finishing Breton rider wins a piglet as a prize - an indication of the agricultural nature of the region. That said, being pictured with your piglet in the shower is not advisable.

However, the main attraction and reason this race is known as 'Le Petit Paris-Roubaix' is the 'ribinoù' - Breton for anything ranging from unpaved double-track to single lane paths. The double-tracks are used to form a parcours from the stunning coastal roads that cut through the grassy dunes and giant rocks into the Breton hinterlands.

Following the route is to navigate your way through a maze of agricultural veins running from the sandy rock coast and criss-crossing the fields behind, some of which still amazingly have brown maize crops standing tall. The ribinoù do not have the fearsome reputation or appearance of the pavé in North East France but out of season there are rocks on some sections that could do as much damage as the biggest of cobbles.

With your head down concentrating on the many turns required to navigate between the ever changing tarmac and gravel sections that surround the town of Lannilis it's easy to become disorientated.

Time then, to take a break and head to Plouguerneau for what the New York Times once suggested was known as 'the fattiest pastry in Europe.'

Kouign-amann has the same essential ingredients as a croissant, but with more butter, more pastry and added caramelised sugar. If it were watts per kilogram instead of calories per serving it would be World Champion. A good idea mid-ride? Only if you wash it down with some local cider. Don't judge though; who remembers the story of a young Hinault ordering a bottle of wine to go with his huge steak before the prologue of the 1975 Tour de l'Oise?

After the heaviest café stop in the history of café stops there is nothing else for it but to hit some more ribinoù. Next on the list just south of Lannilis is the bridge made famous by the race and its increasing coverage by World Tour photographers.

It's a funny experience riding secteurs like this out of season. All of a sudden a standard agricultural underpass made of out of what looks like old bits of corrugated iron roofing seems like.... a standard agricultural underpass made of out of what looks like old bits of corrugated iron roofing. It takes a race fan's imagination to bring it to life.

Look at the map of the Tro-Bro Léon and you'll see two isolated secteurs at the very south westerly part of the parcours. Just when you thought it wasn't possible to go further west, it turns out you can.

We are greeted by a magical autumnal scene with shafts of light piercing through the trees as if to focus on the signature chemins. A farmer appears from the field and introduces us to his unique breed of terrier. We ask him if he watches the race each year. Bien sûr! He recounts a story of seeing a police motorbike rider being refused entry to the secteur by a marshal - the first time he'd seen the police authorities being over-ruled. Cycling has strong roots here, that's for sure.

Having come this far, the obvious thing is to continue west for sunset. Le Conquet is a fishing village heralded as the most westerly town of mainland France. The port is full of bulbous-nosed trawlers and discarded crabs that lie on the dark rocks that face out to the Atlantic and the next stop, America. The rocks where a certain Badger was once photographed.