I hadn’t expected them to be quite so close to the town. Heading out from the centre, we found ourselves at the visitor’s car park for the Le Ménec alignments almost immediately. A few stones peeked tantalisingly over the rise on the opposite side of the main road, but we resisted the urge to dive straight in. I’d waited 30 years for this: it had to be done properly.

After a fast visit to the visitor’s centre, to buy guide books, we took our first real look from the viewing platform on top of the building. It’s a staggering sight. For anyone accustomed to seeing standing stones alone or in ragged circles, to gaze on the meandering rows of Le Ménec almost beggars belief.

This is the most westerly alignment. The rows contain around 1,150 menhirs, with the standing stones diminishing in size and the lines edging closer together as you head east.

Like most of the Carnac alignments, Les Alignements du Ménec are closed off by a low, green fence. In peak months, you are allowed in only by arrangements and as part of guided tours. Out of season, however, you can wander freely around the main part of the Le Ménec alignments, from 9am to 5pm (in November, when we were there, that ruled out sunrise and sunset photographs). This protection may be irritating to some, and the locals were furious about it - many still are. But this entire area of the Morbihan département has a fragile ecosystem. Soil erosion is a particular problem. Having countless tourists tramping around the stones destroys the vegetation - particularly the heather and gorse - and that subsequently threatens to topple the stones. The restriction on access is a responsible measure to protect these monuments for the future.

The stones at the western end are truly huge. By the time you get to the road that splits the Ménec group, they are down to waist height. Even a casual examination reveals that the lines are far from orderly: suggestions that this monument was some kind of astronomical computer are hard to credit. True, the majority of the stones have been ‘restored’ to their current positions, primarily during the 19th Century, but such restoration would probably have tended to greater precision, rather than less. Whatever the function of the stones, they make an impressive statement in the landscape.

The eastern section of the Ménec alignments is not open to the public, but is less impressive anyway and quickly peters out.

We continued east, ignoring the small (and fenced off) Kérabus group and spent the next couple of hours at Les Alignements de Kermario. This is the longest of the alignments, with around 1,000 stones. Alas, it is entirely fenced off, though there is an astonishing view from the old, derelict windmill (fitted with a modern metal, and slightly wobbly, viewing platform) about two-thirds of the way along.

What struck me most about Kermario was the variety of shapes. Current thinking is that the shapes are, in fact, entirely arbitrary and random. Around 1764, the Comte de Caylus, one of the founders of archeology in France, attempted (without success) to read the stones as ciphers, as though each row was a line of text written in ancient symbols. Most archaeologists today accept that the shapes are the result of natural erosion, the stones having been quarried from surface locations, rather than mined.

For this trip, we were staying in a gite just outside Erdeven. On our way back, we stumbled across the Kerzerho alignments, on the south-east of the town - utterly unmissable because the road cuts through one end, isolating a handful of stones on the south-west side. Passing by the site you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a quarry, or the yard of a particularly ambitious monumental mason. The stones, many of them very big, appear jumbled at first, as though abandoned or unfinished. Seeing the alignment takes a bit of effort.

There’s no fence here. We found children playing happily on some of the stones, which seemed oddly appropriate. Perhaps that’s because, for me, one of the most compelling impressions created by these monuments is one of joy and optimism. They are the work of people who contemplated the future with hope and confidence, I feel. That’s an entirely emotional response, of course, based on no intellectual foundation. As such, it cannot be denied!

The main group comprises around 165 menhirs, but the proximity to the road and the park-like surroundings don’t make for an auspicious location. The same was true of the the Carnac Le Ménec and Kermario alignments. They’re not exactly McMegaliths , but it’s difficult to achieve a sense of wonder and entrancement with trucks roaring past.

We spotted some more standing stones across a field and found ourselves face to face with the vast menhirs of the Alignements de la Table du Sacrifice. These were among the largest and most impressive standing stones we would see on the whole trip. They form another alignment that winds down a wooded path to the ‘table’ itself - a recumbent stone next to another large menhir. These are on a path that, at the time we arrived, was being used by cows going in to be milked. At other times, it’s used by ramblers - one of many route de randonnée in the area. The path, bordered by gnarly oaks, appeared ancient - you could easily picture yourself in medieval times. We wanted to explore more, but the light was failing. We swore we would return.

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