We left Trevou-Treguignec just before noon on Saturday after a nice chat with Danielle.  We found out (a little too late) that we could have visited with them while we were here, perhaps even experienced a pig farm, which they own and operate.  But they were reluctant to suggest this in case we didn’t want to be disturbed.  It would have been very pleasant to spend some time getting to know each other.  Should we ever return, we will definitely make that happen.

We headed to the highway and drove straight into Normandy.  As we had previously seen on our visits to Mt St. Michel, we could see the abbey in the distance as we approached, but this time we could also see it driving away on the other side of the bay.  Mid-afternoon, we found a secluded picnic table at an Aire where we stopped for a snack – sandwiches.  The line up for the made-to-order sandwiches was very long so we opted for the pre-made ones.  Lesson learned = be patient, wait in line!!!  Amazing the number of people who picnic on the grass – no blankets, just on the grass with their baskets – walk their dogs, exercise their kids. It makes me feel that North Americans have lost their appreciation for the little things that perhaps take some extra effort but that also bring and keep families together.

Le Havre, at the mouth of the Seine, is a busy shipping port.  It has a very large and impressive bridge that we crossed (for 5.50e, thank you very much) and then a smaller one, also architecturally interesting.

         

and…

We ran, not literally, into an accident on the autoroute so got off and started winding our way toward Veulette-sur-Mer.  Thank goodness for GPS as our map of France didn’t have all the small roads.  We arrived in this seaside town around 6:30, met Nathalie, our hostess at Le Grismoustier, her home and B&B.  It’s an amazing property, a small chateau built as a replica of a Scottish property by a transplanted Scot 100 years ago.  We had to call her when we arrived and she had to open the gates for us to enter.  The driveway is steep and a bit winding, and the parking is a bit tight, off to the side.  There are three guest bedrooms – ours was in the middle.  But first, we had to get to it! – up a staircase that curved to the right, then took a 90 degree turn up 4 narrow stairs through a door, then up another small flight that curved to the left but also had a sloping ceiling to the right.  I had to duck a bit and lean to the left; Steve had to almost fold in half to get up those ones.  (It was at that moment we decided to take what we needed for the night out of our suitcases, and bring them up in a knapsack!)  The hallway was dark and narrow, also with the same slanted roofline, but we could at least stand up straight.  Our room was charming to say the least, and the window opened wide from the front of the home, looking out over a well-manicured expanse of treed and flowered lawn, right down to that intriguing gate.  Ok, so it wasn’t very big, and the washroom was separated from the bedroom by a half wall and curtain, but it was charming and beautifully decorated according to the age of the home.

(from the little landing looking up…)

   

 

(and from the little landing looking down…)

 

(and the reward at the top…)

     

On Thursday, when I made the reservation for this evening, I asked for dinner recommendations.  Nathalie made 2, which I checked out online, and chose her favourite, Les Fregates.  We took Nathalie up on her offer to reserve a table for us.  Veulettes-sur-Mer is a tiny “Bourg”.  Le Grismoustier is on a tiny, tiny quiet road (the left turn onto the road was angled too much for the car, so we had to go down the hill, turn around, and approach it from the other direction), great for walking.  The restaurant was at the bottom of the hill we drove down to turn around.  All together, it took us 5 minutes to get there and we didn’t have to drive.  Which meant we could both drink and we both did 🙂  Les Fregates is across from the sea and we had a window table with a seaside view.  Dinner was very good but, by the time I got through my appetizer of Tartare de deux Saumone served on green lentils, and half of my entree of Steak/Frites, I was sorry I had ordered the prix fixe menu.  I still had the rest of my main, a cheese plate, and dessert to get through.  So, being that we were in Normandy, and Normandy is well-known for Calvados, Steve talked me into a Trou Normande before our cheese plate arrived.  I’m not sure if it helped or not but it tasted good and I was able to finish most of the rest of my dinner.  While we were eating, we watched a spectacular sunset but had left our cameras behind so you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Nathalie has the most intriguing, yet efficient, system for ensuring the main guest door is locked at night. The guest names are written on a little chalk board and, as you return for the evening, you put an “x” beside your name. The last one in, bars the door.

The bedding was luxurious and I wished it had been much colder so I could have appreciated snuggling under that duvet with the window wide open.  As it was, the duvet lasted about 10 minutes before it was tossed off the bed and we were left with the smooth cotton sheet to keep off any drafts.

Breakfast on Sunday was fit for royalty, as was the room it was served in – a yummy pastry that was a cross between a croissant and a baguette (her local patisserie’s specialty), brioche, homemade cake, local Normandy cheese with baguette, plain yogurt, muesli, fresh apricots (as their season was just starting), local apple juice, clementine juice, 6 different homemade jams, tea, coffee. We could also have had eggs, if we wanted.  And conversation flowed (maybe flowed is the wrong word as that indicates a fluidity in language, and we certainly weren’t fluid but we definitely communicated) with the other guests – a couple from Versailles celebrating their 5th wedding anniversary, and another couple from Bruges, Belgium.

(unfortunately, I didn’t get pictures with the table set before we actually ate…)

   

Here are some photos of the home and property.

                          

The coast in Normandy is very different from the coast in Brittany.  In Brittany, every beach is sandy – a pleasure to walk on and easy to park a chair on – and we almost always saw swimmers and others enjoying the beach.  In Normandy, the beaches we saw are all covered in gravel and stones – difficult to walk on (we tried) – and, other than a couple of wind surfers, we didn’t see any swimmers or people on the beaches.  We did see cliffs, though, very high, very white, very vertical cliffs, which could explain all those stones as there were signs everywhere about falling rocks.  These are the very same cliffs the allied forces faced when making their attempts to land and push back the Germans in WW2.  It’s easy to see why so many of them died trying – more on that a bit later.

Following an exploration of the beach and cliffs at Veulette-sur-Mer…

                     

   (it was a windy day – again)

… we made our way up to Dieppe by way of as many seaside roads as we could.  Unlike in Brittany, where most seaside roads either took us past an amazing beach or a spot where we could see an amazing beach, we were either too high up and too far in on the cliffs to see anything other than farms, or the spots to stop at required a hike in to see the ocean.  As we were on a schedule to get back to the airport hotel in time for dinner, we did not hike.  We did stop to take a few photos along the way, though.

  (the cliffs in Normandy are a great place to locate wind turbines)

           

    

But, we did make the time to visit the Canadian War Memorial at Dieppe and I’m so glad we did.  When we passed through this region in 1996, we missed this tribute to our fallen soldiers of WW2 and it was a regret. The cemetery is smaller than we expected, which makes us think photos we’ve seen have been taken with a wide angle lens.  Regardless, it’s quite awe-inspiring, not to mention sobering.  And it’s spotless and so well manicured and maintained.  I will have to research to know who does the maintenance and how often.  Almost all the gravestones are identical rectangles with rounded tops, with the exception of a few crosses, and there are a variety of insignias on them – some with dog tag numbers, some with regiment details, some with “Unknown Soldier”.  All told, 707 Canadians are buried at this site and it’s quite the site to see.  We were honoured to sign the visitors’ book.

                                          

        

We only had 2 “events” driving back to the airport.  The first was when we reached the second toll on the autoroute and chose the wrong lane.  No one was in the booth and our non-European credit card was not recognized.  Fortunately, we were still far enough out from Paris that we only had one other car behind us.  He graciously backed up and we were able to change lanes to one with an attendant.  From there on in, we were very careful to choose the right lane and there were no more “tourist” moments.  Our second “event” occurred when we missed the driveway for the Novotel by approx 6 feet (which we remember doing 3 years ago, but only after we did it again).  Unfortunately, we were on a one-way road so couldn’t just turn right…  So “around the block” we went, but that was easier said than done!  Like any large airport, there are lots and lots of roads that criss-cross over each other and that sport a multitude of signs.  I should mention that, a couple hundred kms back, we had initially programmed CDG Airport into our GPS, and not the actual hotel, which may help to explain the upcoming events.  So, then I found the Novotel, programmed the GPS, and away we went.  It seemed a bit odd that our destination was 5km away, considering we could see the backside of the hotel, but we knew we had to go around so thought no more about it.  Five kms and 5 minutes later and we were at the Novotel, but the wrong one!  (For those traveling into Paris, there are 3! Novotels at the airport.)  I found the right one, re-programmed the GPS, and off we went again – another 5km, back from where we came, right?  But now we were slipping around all the cargo areas, which also seemed odd… and didn’t we come to a dead end!!!  Forget the GPS, which clearly was not our friend!  We knew the hotel was at Terminal 3, so what better way to find it than to follow the signs for Terminal 3 – et voila – 20 minutes after we missed the driveway the first time, success!  Fortunately, the French like to eat late and we did not miss dinner.

It’s somewhat anti-climatic to spend your last vacation night in a run-of-the-mill airport hotel, especially after having experienced the charm and lure of the French culture, but c’est la vie.  It certainly offered convenient car return and a 5-minute walk to the terminal for our departure.

It’s so hard to believe that a month has passed already.  It seemed like such a long time when we first arrived.  But we did LOTS.  We marvelled at Mont St Michel – twice – and visited St. Malo.  We hiked the Pink Granite Coast 3 times and Le Gouffre twice.  We toured a distillery.  We took many scenic drives and explored countless beaches.  We visited markets (Lannion twice, Paimpol, Penvenan, Treguier), and had an overnight stay in Dinan.  We found great restaurants, drank local cider, ate fabulous meals.  We really enjoyed the company of our 2 groups of friends who were able to join us for a period of time, and we enjoyed the time we had to ourselves.  It was a perfect mix.  And, of course, we had the most beautiful, comfortable, well-located vacation home close to a fabulous beach.  All in all, what more could we have asked for.

So, here I am, Monday afternoon, sitting on an aircraft at 32,000 feet (10,000 metres) somewhere over the Atlantic, chewing on licorice nibs and washing them down with Prosecco, thinking about our next adventure abroad… a bientot!