France = Friends, Fun & Food
All photos related to this blog entry can be found at Grant & Julie
Dover to Calais Ferry with its specially designed motorcycle parks
The ferry crossing from Dover to Calais was early, uneventful and almost over before it began. As Australians we are not used to taking an hour and a half to get to new country.Our French improves day by day. We have progressed from the usual bonjour, merci and s'il vous plait to include the ever important vin rouge (red wine), especially as there is so much vin rouge to choose from.
Another use for the water bottle holders
Normandy Summer
Our next night was another local camping affair called 3 Plages, a theme was running through the naming of campgrounds along the coast.
It was here in the village of Sassetout le Mauconduit (or as we like to say Sausages of Misconduct) that we discovered the secret to small French villages. If you are looking for a bakery, butchery, newspaper shop, information etc head directly to the church. Village life is centred around this one very visible beacon. This theory seems to work in larger towns as well and we employ it often.
Due to all sorts of technical difficulties a couple of years ago we lost contact with our friends Anne and Fred whom we had met eight years ago in Copan, Honduras and later at their home in Tegucigalpa, the capital.
We had been searching the interweb for months, posting messages, trawling French on line telephone directories, stumbling across a short interview with Anne in a Normandy newspaper, until finding a postal address that looked promising. On the off chance, we sent a postcard from Scotland and heard nothing for a while. Then, just before arriving in Dover, an email arrived entitled We got your postcard!.
Anne and Fred had moved from that address some years ago and on occasion they pass by and pick up any mail that may be there for them. It just so happened that our letter arrived as she popped in when giving a tour of the city to her cousins.
Very excited we arrived in Heuqueville to a house full of welcoming Frogs and Belgians. Being the middle of the French school summer holidays, we were able to catch up and enjoy the company of our Froggies.
Taking the time to explore the area of Upper Normandy, Anne took us on her famous walking tour of Le Havre where she was born, grew up and to the house where our post card ended up. She provided us with details only an insider would know and appreciate. It was such a lovely day and finished with a beer at her favourite pub overlooking the sea and salsa dancing.
Le Havre was rebuilt after the Second World War, as toward the end of the conflict it was obliterated by allied troops in the final days of the conflict.
This rebuilding work is now protected under UNESCO World Heritage conventions. The apartment blocks were made to house the many people left homeless after the allied led liberation. They were constructed to be very egalitarian. Each flat was the same size (dependent on number of inhabitants ie one bedroom, two or three), same layout and same decoration. Each furnished with the same simple but practical furniture. Everyone received the same. You can visit an apartment set up as a museum to show explain and show how everything was arranged.
Our time in Normandy was filled with long lunches, wine, laughter and catching up. We had lovely day exploring the coast either on the bike or on bicycles.
Fred and Annes son, Isidore, was not yet a year old when we last saw him. This happy, placid baby has turned into a fine, thoughtful young man of 8. His sister Malou, 5, is vivacious and loving. Both children tried with determination to help us learn some French. Hopefully a few things stuck.
A whirl wind trip to Paris started at Pascals flat within the Paris City Limits. A short walk to the Pere LaChaise Cemetery where gothic tombs are surrounded by simple austere graves and quirky monuments, housing the memories of everyday Parisians and the famous. We were kicked out at closing time and decided an evening drink around the Bastille in a little French Cafe would finish our outing quite nicely.
Returning to Pascals, we were treated to his home-made rum aperitif before dinner with his friend Jacques. A great night speaking Frenglish, understanding a lot and a little, enjoying life in Paris.
Paris City Centre was a 30 minute metro ride and we breakfasted near the Eiffel Tower. With only a day to explore this beautiful city some compromises were made. There is so much to see and do in Paris that it can be overwhelming. At trip to the top of The Tower and a river cruise with hop on hop off option to get around and visit some sites was the days plan.
Without sounding too clichéd, we have all seen the images of Paris and the Eiffel Tower, one could not imagine Paris without thinking of this iconic structure. However, to come upon it in real life is a breathtaking experience. The Tower is beautifully designed and the iron work exquisite.
Eiffel Tower
Tickets to the top cost 15 Euros and are well worth the money. You can pre-book jump the queue tickets at substantial additional cost. We did not and the wait in line was only around 20 minutes.
Grant suggested that we take the elevator straight to the top. Jules fear of heights was only present in the glass elevator, once on the platform, overlooking the city all was ok.
It was recommended that we visit Metz (pronounced Mess), a city in the heart of the Lorraine province on the Moselle River that has a satellite branch of Paris Centre de Pompidou. As we missed the galleries in Paris we decided to stop a few days in Metz and immerse ourselves in some culture.
What a surprise. We landed in Metz right in the middle of the Fete de las Mirabelles (The Mirabelle Plum Festival). Everything was going on from massive firework displays, Mirabelle produce tasting, hot air balloons sailing into the sunset and a street parade to name but a few things. Along with this there is just the sheer beauty of this city with the splendid gothic Cathedral St Stephens, the medieval fort gate and towers, the imperial quarter all culminating in the very modern art gallery.
Our couple of days extended to just over a week. We even managed a pretty cruisey day ride of 120 kilometres taking in some of France, Luxembourg and Belgium. One beautiful thing about Luxembourg and Belgium is that when the church bells toll they play a whole song not just a tune.
First it came as a mere thought, a fleeting idea that perhaps French food is addictive. As the days, weeks passed the gnawing in our stomaches and the urgency in our thoughts: pate (pressed meat/terrine); fromage (cheese); pain (bread); vin rouge (red wine). How were we to escape, was Germany the answer? We did not know. What was apparent to us, so clearly, that if things did not change we would need a bigger bike! We visited one market where there more varietys of cheese than potholes in a Mozambique highway. It was all delicious. However, Germany was a mere 100 kilometers away and our possible salvation from becoming very French.
We will definitely return to France as we have only tasted the delights and have not had the chance to immerse!
Camping - France