We have not been anywhere else that has given such a range of visible lights flashing, occulting, and scintillating after dark, than the mythical island of Ouessant. This family still fondly remembers our 2004 week there, yes just a week, in a lovely little wedge shaped house facing the harbour. At night when it wasn't raining, which it did quite a lot, we could and did walk round the harbour to different view points and try to identify the lights we could see. Our count suggested that we could observe as many as nineteen feux. Honestly. And one of them was Trézien.
We'd called by Trézien en route to the hotel we eventually stayed in before crossing over to Ouessant -– and perhaps thought little of it as it does not sport a lantern like its more distinguished betters, across on the island, but shows a light through a window in an otherwise solid lantern. But at night its light is bright enough, it is lighthouse shaped, is of generally good proportions and even half painted white on the seaward side. Yes, and you can climb it. Not us of course, we were as ever 'out-of-season', so no joy with that.
The lighthouse marks the Pointe de Trézien, a notional dividing point between La Manche and the Atlantic Ocean. In addition to being a general navigation light Trézien forms a range with the Phare de Kermorvan (see below) to guide ships into the southern entrance of the Chenal du Four, the shipping route between the Île d'Ouessant and the mainland. It probably lost its lantern to the occupiers (ww2 vintage), the tower was bashed about a bit too, so this is a repair and refurbish job. The tower is 37 metres tall, built of granite and it occults, white flashes twice every six seconds, intensified in the centre of its range. It doesn't sweep the seascape with its light, you'd need a revolving optic for that plus a proper lantern. It has a range of 20 nautical miles, so is no slouch in the distance stakes… It even boasts a small museum to bring in the punters: we saw no sign of it when we mooched around. Or punters for that matter.
Kermorvan sits just opposite Le Conquet, right on the tip of Finistère, where we sailed for Ouessant. The lighthouse is within a restricted headland so how that bloke got in there (we couldn't) to fish off the end is a bit of a mystery (see the overcast picture taken from the boat en route to Ouessant). Oh yes, he probably had a boat too. Anyway Kermorvan is scenic, granite built and subject to the usual paint economy job: white sea side, unpainted land side.
Le Conquet is a lovely little town. We (or at least I) dreamt of buying a little house here and blighting the place by only coming for holiday visits. Nice river exit, nice port-side walks, nice cafés, nice solid granite built buildings, great views, lots-o-lighthouses. And departure port for Île d'Ouessant aussi! But I digress…
Kermorvan is 22 metres high and flashes white once every five seconds. It was built as early as 1849. Behind the lighthouse is a stone fort that was used as the keeper's quarters after the army departed from it in 1898. The lighthouse serves several purposes; it is the front light of a range guiding ships into the Chenal du Four, with the Phare de Trézien (above) as the rear light. And it is the front light of a range guiding ships into the Chenal de la Helle, with the Phare de Lochrist as the rear light. It even serves as the front light of a range with the St.-Mathieu light. We will come to those lights in another post, bet you can't wait!
JBH's postcards grace this page while my photographs fail to adequately illustrate the joys of this neck of the woods. Go there! It is jolly nice if somewhat 'out-of-the-way'.
Added snaps from February 2026:
