Brittany: Clotted Cream Or Crepes?

For several years I've contemplated taking a family holiday in Brittany, but always rejected the idea because "it's just like Devon but further away". This year, I finally confronted my prejudice and travelled with my wife and two girls, aged three and six, to the north-west of France to find out which was the winner - Brittany or Devon - in our personal holiday beauty competition.

Round one was a no-brainer. Do you drive straight to your holiday cottage in the south-west of England or cross the Channel? Rather than take the ferry we opted to fly from Stansted to Nantes in the south of Brittany and pick up a hire car. We had to battle through the extra airport security; an hour's wait to get our Hertz car, followed by a two-and-a-half-hour drive to our villa near to Quimperle in Finistère, south-west Brittany. By the time we arrived at our roadside villa, tired and hungry, at 9.30pm, I had already decided the holiday was a terrible mistake.

Salvation (which gave round two and three to Brittany) came in the form of one of the dozens of crêperies that dot the region providing good-quality, child-friendly menus, at reasonable prices. Suffering from advanced food rage, we staggered into a crêperie at 10.20pm to find tables filled with families and a welcoming owner. An hour later, after consuming crêpes, moules et frites, steak and chips, a walnut and Roquefort salad with a fabulously salty dressing, chocolate pancakes, a bottle of rosé wine, and a frighteningly large calvados, the holiday was back on track.

The likelihood of finding the quality of the above meal in Devon even at twice the £40 we paid is extremely slim. The likelihood of finding any food beyond a bag of pub crisps for sale in Devon at 10.20pm is nil. This is where Brittany and France score heavily. The food is consistently tasty, fresh, and of good quality. Wandering around markets you find heaps of local oysters, home-made smoked sausages, gigantic pans of paella, tables groaning in cheeses and hams, yet more crêpes, and beautiful looking fruit and vegetables.

Our only duff eating experience was an attempt to try out a slightly more upmarket auberge. This roadside inn reminded me of a Horrid Henry story by the author Francesca Simon in which our anti-hero and his appalling family go to Restaurant Le Posh. In our real-life version the restaurant had a mouth-watering series of set menus, but the unsmiling madame who ran the establishment was in no rush to serve us.

After 15 minutes of telling the children to quieten down we decided to sneak off to our local crêperie. But the owner caught us at the door and demanded 2 euros for the pleasure of sitting in her oppressive room and screwing up the starched napkins. Having declined her invitation to pay we fled as she went into the kitchen to summon reinforcements.

Next up are the beaches. We were staying five minutes away from a little seaside town called Le Pouldu. On arrival I was convinced that I had wandered into the film set of the 1950s Jacques Tati classic, Monsieur Hulot's Holiday. It was just like Devon in the 1970s. There are sandy beaches, coves, seaweed, rock pools, even a tired looking crazy-golf course - all good, old-fashioned family fun.

For me the star attraction of Le Pouldu was the tiny harbour. Looking upstream you have the wooded banks of the river Laita and in the opposite direction you have swirling beaches at the mouth of the estuary. There is a wonderful old hotel on the water's edge with a fantastic menu. The Hotel Restaurant du Pouldu specialises in seafood.

On the opposite side of the estuary to Le Pouldu is the mini seaside resort of Guidel-Plages, which I couldn't find in any guidebooks. This suggests that it is either an unknown gem or I've no taste and it's horrible and tacky. I was finally won over by the region after a trip to the remains of the former abbey of Abby St Maurice. Built among the beautiful forest of Carnoet and approached across a fairytale bridge by the side of a river, it is a perfect picnic spot.

So at the end of our holiday, who came out on top? I think Brittany edges it. The countryside and beaches are similar to Devon but there are so many more of them; there are fewer people; it is likely to be warmer; but the decider is the food. What would you rather eat - swede and potato pasties or moules et frites?

HOW TO GET THERE

Jason Bennetto travelled as a guest of French Country Cottages (0870-197 6893; french-country-cottages .co.uk). It offers a week's rental of the Venus Villa, which sleeps four, from £552 including a return ferry crossing. Accommodation-only prices start at £492 for a week's rental. Four-night breaks start at £334 on an accommodation-only basis. Quote ref F29434. The company also offers a booking service for low-cost and scheduled flights.