Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Normandy - Brittany - Jersey: La Connection Anglo-Française


Pro's: "Culture, nature and great food."
Con's: "The more you come, the more you understand you've hardly yet seen anything."
In a nutshell: "The inexhaustible treasure trove of delights for culture vultures and gourmets."

England and France - two major world cultures so common yet so different that love and hate each other so much. The English may envy the hedonistic Gallic lifestyle and excellent healthcare system, the French - the successful Anglo-Saxon world expansionism and infinitely superior rock-n-roll music, but in reality the two nations share more than a centuries-long spirit of rivalry. In April-May 2008 we travelled 2,670 km to see where the twain meet, mix and, on occasion, mate: Normandy, Brittany and Jersey, exploring the best sites in the culturally rich area of Anglo-French contact.

Besides such lofty pursuits like visiting Claude Monet's garden in Giverny, Richard the Lionheart's castle in Les Andelys or Victor Hugo's place of exile on Jersey, we went to admire the natural wonders of Étretat and Côte Emeraude. Brought up on French literature, I derived a gigantic kick from following the footsteps of Flaubert, Maupassant and Verne. We also found a great delight in immersing ourselves in the lowly pleasures of gluttony, for besides numerous historical vestiges the region is justly famous for its abundance of prime quality seafood.


After so many trips to the Northwest of France last few years, I still have a sense of unfinished business. On the way back home, I, in my navigator's seat, am always busy drafting plans for another visit to cover what we had to skip this time. Floyd says it is a form of greed, which is a deadly sin. Mea culpa, but this year I walked to the Mont St. Michel so I'm sure it's been forgiven.

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Highlights of the trip:














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Amsterdam - Lille - Mer-les-Bains - Dieppe - Miromesnil - Roeun - Le Mesnil-Esnard - Giverny - Les Andelys - Fécamp - Étretat - Pont de Normandie - Honfleur - Saint-Quentin-sur-le-Homme - Mont St. Michel - Roz-sur-Couesnon - St. Marcan - St. Broladre - Cherrueix - Mont-Dol - Le Vivier-sur-Mer - Saint-Benoît-des-Ondes - Cancale - Pointe-du-Grouin - St. Malo - Barrage de la Rance - Dinard - St. Lunaire - St. Helier - Grouveille - Gorey - Five Oaks - Amsterdam

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Lille - The Nearest Bit Of France


If you beat the traffic around Utrecht and Antwerp it takes only 2 and half hours from Amsterdam to the nearest French city in the northernmost corner of the Hexagon. Lille is not big on tourist maps and some people even wrinkle their noses when you mention it but it is beautiful enough to me. The historic centre, the Vieux Lille, is charming, there is a citadel, a maze of cobbled streets with café terraces, grand squares and attractive Flemish Gothic buildings. I also like that in every neighbourhood there is at least one Auchan hypermarket where I can stock up on good quality French groceries in one stop (say, Carrefour, let alone Leclerc, just doesn't cut it).


The city's other name is Rijssel (pronounced 'rice-cell'), which is Flemish: Lille became permanently annexed to France only in the times of Louis XIV. Historically it is part of the Flemish Low Lands and it is obvious from the Belgian-looking architecture and simple hearty food with un-Gallic names like waterzooi, potjevleesch and speculoos. Northerly vegetables like leek, potatoes and chicory as well as fresh sea produce from the coast are featured prominently in the local diet. The drink of choice here is beer, most often the iconic Ch'ti - the Lille area is even referred to as the Ch'ti Land. It makes way even in soup called soupe flamande. Lille forms part of the Moules Frites Belt that extends as far in the north as Dutch Zeeland - steamed mussels with French fries (served with mayonnaise, never ketchup!) here is the answer to American burger-based fast food. Finish those off with typical sweet aromatic wafers and you won't know you're not in Belgium any more.




Paradoxically, just over the Flemish border you will be very hard pressed to find anyone who can understand Dutch. As everywhere else in France, dialects and local languages have been pro-actively uprooted since the 1789 Revolution: there is now just about 80 thousand Flemish speakers left in the area and, as it goes, they are mostly countryside-dwelling grandpas and grannies.

Lille deserves a full report but this time we only spent their a night, so here is a glimpse of night-time Lille.




Tip: Don't order seafood platters in restaurants, don't even buy ready-made one in supermarkets: go to the poissonnier section in Auchan and pick a lobster, a crab, a box of oysters, then shrimp, bulots and amandes half a kilo each, perhaps crevettes grises and bigourneaux if you like those (I do!); then get some lemons, baguettes, mayonnaise and a couple bottles of Muscadet or cidre brut and you have a slap-up seafood dîner for two. Drive on to a scenic location for an additional aesthetic kick.

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Mers-les-Bains - A Bourgeois Seaside Resort Par Excellence


Little touted outside France, the Ivory and Spice Route takes you around the best attractions of Haute- Normandie – Norman castles, attractive seaside resorts, and numerous chateaux built with money mostly procured from trade in spice, ivory and slaves.


The route starts in Mer-les-Bains where the flat expands of the Low Countries finally give way to the photogenic chalky cliffs of the Côte d'Albâtre, the Alabaster Coast. Mer-les-Bains, a resort town built up with colourful turn-of-the century villas, forms one commune with the cliff-side Le Treport (great seafood restaurants) and the inland Eu (a royal château). Victor Hugo, Jules Verne and Gustav Eiffel used to come here on holidays and just like in their time the area teems with Parisians flocking to the closest beaches from home they can find.





These days there is sold more seafood than caught and the ports that used to be the launchpads for great expeditions to faraway shores have changed their trade to restaurant business. Mers-les-Bains has never been one of those. It shot to prominence in the 1860s when bourgeoisie discovered that railway travel made a weekend getaway to the sea possible and affordable to middle-class families. The benefits of inhaling iodised air became whole-heartedly adopted in the trail of trend-setting Empress Eugenie. In recognition of that, the town's coats of arms is emblazoned with the motto "In littore floreo" - On the shore, I flourish.

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Dieppe - Maps, Ivory And Scallops


Famous for its scallops and the tragically botched Dieppe Operation during WWII, these days Dieppe is a pretty seaside town with the nearest beach to Paris and a photogenic marina typical for Normandy.


Its name derives from the Norse word djepp, deap, for its haven was such allowing it to become an important sea port: the expedition to found the Nouvelle France, French Canada set out from here. Owing to a rich maritime tradition and good connections with Portuguese explorers, Dieppe was home to Europe’s most famous cartographical school of the 16th century, renowned for its ornate, luxury-edition maps that mysteriously featured Australia before its “official” discovery in 1776 by Captain Cook.



Château de Dieppe sitting on the hill that overlooks the city houses a collection of ivory artefacts, a reminder of the city’s once prosperous trade with Africa. At one time there was even a French colony of Petit-Dieppe on the coast of the Gambia that supplied its big sister in Europe with elephant tusks.

Apart from the scallops, Dieppe’s trademark delicacy is the marmite dieppoise: fish and seafood stewed in cream, cider and onions, lightly flavoured with spices. Mussels and shrimp need to be featured prominently to classify for the appellation.

A few kilometres inland from Dieppe is the Château de Miromesnil – the likeliest birthplace of Guy de Maupassant, the scandalous author, whose books, in my childhood, were the equivalent of the modern-time Internet porn – something that parents wanted to keep as far away as possible from their children. They normally occupied the upper book shelves so that we could only reach them after a certain age. A vain precaution as we were smart enough to use chairs for that purpose.



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Fécamp - Liqueur, Seafood & Norman Vestiges


Home to the Norman dukes’ castle from whence Wilhelm the Conqueror launched his invasion of Britain, Fécamp is now mostly famous for Bénédictine – a sweet concoction of 27 herbs, sugar and alcohol created in late 19th century on the wave of a developing consumerist culture and interest towards all things “traditional and historical”, its name evoking images of medieval monks brewing healing potions. However, just like the pseudo-Renaissance folly of the Palais Benedictine where it is produced, it is a purely commercial creation, a nifty marriage of nostalgia for good old times and mass production technology.

To thank the monks of Fécamp who sided with him during his conquest of England, Wilhelm and his wife Matilda commissioned the construction of a colossal cathedral, making the previously insignificant town a bishopric and rank-of-the-file monks senior clerics. An imposing and lofty example of Norman Gothic, its princely nave majestically towering over the town still impresses eight centuries after its construction. The cathedral stands right behind Fécamp’s town hall, asserting a modern civil authority with an ages-old symbol of power.



Next to Fécamp’s marina is a line of fine seafood restaurants, highly popular with both locals and visitors. That’s probably all that is left from the town’s long and illustrious past as a major fishing port. If you are budget-conscious but still want to savour classic local fish dishes without compromising the quality of your experience, go for set menus - les formulas – to enjoy maquereaux à la fécampoise – mackerel baked in cider with a mussel sauce and moules à la fecampoise – mussels boiled in fresh cream with dried parsley and scallions.

Huge seafood platters – assiettes des fruits de mer – may set you back a little but make for an unforgettable hours-long enjoyment of lobster, crab, prawn, oysters, various shrimp and shellfish picturesquely arranged on bed of crushed ice and edible seaweed. Dry, flinty Muscadet from Nantes is considered the best to complement the delicate flavours of fresh sea produce, oysters in particular.

A local route – D940 – follows the original Roman road and takes you to the next jewel of Haute-Normandie.

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The Limestone Arches Of Étretat


The busy seaside village of Étretat draws huge crowds thanks to the Falaises d’Étretat –gigantic limestone arches protruding into the sea. In the classic Normandy way, the top of them is lush green and flat and as always the contrast is quite dramatic.

The 70-metre-tall natural wonders won admiration of such grands as Gustave Flaubert and two Spanish Queens, Marie- Christine and Isabella II, who set a summer residence here. The arches resembling elephants dipping their trunks in the sea became featured on paintings by Eugène Boudin, Gustave Courbet and ubiquitous Claude Monet.


Guy de Maupassant spent his childhood in the area: it was here that, in an infamous incident, he ate a roast monkey with Algernon Charles Swinburne, a decadent Victorian poet famous for his depiction of sadomasochism, Sapphic love and bestiality.




A good example of the aristocratic excesses that provoked the French Revolution, the Oyster Park – a series of stone basins – was built here for Marie- Antoinette of the “let them eat cake” fame. Two sloops were in charge of carrying oysters from Cancale in Brittany for a several months of affinage: soaking alternatively in salty sea water and fresh water from the underground springs to acquire a particularly delicate taste. Then they were carted away to Versailles. Right was Talleyrand saying that "those who have not known the Ancien régime will never know how sweet life can be".


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Rouen - The Duck, The Pots & The Cathedral


The city of Madame Bovary and Monet’s Cathédrale series, Rouen has an appealing historical centre painstakingly restored from the heavy destruction of WWII. The very scale of restoration only dawns on you when you see the pictures of post-bombardment Rouen. Still, here and there in the city are left devastated pieces of what used to be magnificent buildings, preserved so as mementos of how senseless and barbarous wars are.


A reminder that Rouen once was the capital of the Norman Duchy is the imposing Gothic Palais de Justice which used to housed Normandy's parliament. Scores of half-timbered houses are turned nowadays into restaurants and smart shops, some of which deal in Rouen faïence – colourful glazed crockery.




On Place du Vieaux Macrhé, the symbolic centre of the city, one can find La Couronne, France's oldest inn established in 1345. Considered the star-studded guest list, it is quite reasonably priced and promises the best of Norman culinary delights in a historic setting. On the same square French national heroine Jeanne d'Arc was burnt at stake accused of witchcraft at the age of 18. A Post-Modern monstrosity of a monument was erected here during Valéry Giscard D'Estaing's reign to commemorate or rather commiserate the fact.

The city’s gastronomic claim for fame is by virtue of the savage recipe of canard rouennais – Duclair ducks are strangled, roasted, jointed, the carcass is crushed in a special press and the juices are mixed into a blood-based sauce. I strongly suspect that this recipe was invented specifically to give vegans severe nervous breakdowns.



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Richard the Lionheart's Château Gaillard


Set on the most picturesque curve of the Seine one can find, the ruins of Château Gaillard are a crumbling monument to the aesthetic sense and unbridled ambitions of England’s allegedly homosexual king, Richard the Lionheart.

Richard was a notable example of early European integration: a French-speaking Norwegian king of England who married a Spanish princess in Cyprus on the way to a military adventure in the Middle East. He is suspected to be on more chummy terms with the princess’s brother though and, like some expats today, he preferred to live in France whilst running business in England, stating the horrible weather and food in his dominion as reasons of his choice.


A valiant knight and an insatiable adventurer, he commissioned the castle to assert his right for his continental possessions before the French King Philippe August. It took just one year and an extravagant expense to erect the fortifications. Upon seeing the finished castle, Richard is known to have exclaimed: “Quel gaillard tu es!” – “Aren’t you jolly pretty!” thus giving it its name.

Next year he was killed by a lance in the siege of a fortress and four years later Château Gaillard was successfully sacked by French forces. Just over one century later, Marguerite of Burgundy, Louis X’s adulterous wife, was first incarcerated here and then strangled to death with her own hair.

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Monet's Japanese Garden in Giverny

In 1883, four years after his wife's tragic death, grief-stricken Monet noticed the village of Giverny while looking out of the train window. He moved there almost immediately and when he had enough money to buy out an estate, he started a magnificent garden of which he made many famous paintings. The famous water lily pond with a Japanese bridge are also in this garden.



I am definitely not into florid affected exaggerations but the garden rather does look like an Impressionist painting. It seems to consist of bright, vibrant jabs of oil paint and the colour scheme of the vegetation begs to be painted.

Monet former house is full of his beloved Japanese prints so it is quite clear where he drew his inspiration for this garden: in a true Japanese fashion it is nonchalant and magnificent at the same time.



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Honfleur - A Picture-Perfect Port


The slate-covered façades of the houses lining the waterfront are the most celebrated feature of the port of Honfleur but it is the characteristic quality of light in the harbour that earned it a string of painting admirers. Among others they included the founder of Realism Gustave Courbet of the Origin of the World fame, precursors of Impressionism Johan Jongkind and Eugène Boudin, and what would we do without Claude Monet.


Other proud Honfleuraises included Erik Satie mostly famous for composing the first example of purposely written background music Gymnopédies, Samuel de Champlain - the founder of Québec City and Charles Baudelaire, symbolist poet of the Le fleurs du mal fame


Honfleur’s – pronounced ‘hronfieu’- present appearance of a hedonistic coastal resort town in no way betrays its past as a major slave trade port. In a light-hearted bid to celebrate its lifeline as a fishing port, every October Honfleur forget itself in the abandon of the Fête de La Crevette - the Shrimp Festival.


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Mont St.Michel - The Marvel Abbey

Second most visited tourist attraction in France after Paris, this tiny, densely built-up island manages to let through over 12 millions visitors a year - and that is probably why they call it the Marvel Abbey.

In 1996 the tourist influx made the resident Benedictine monks abandon the abbey as unfit for pursuits of solitude and meditation. Presently, it's a co-ed community of monastics that stages daily masses in the ancient cathedral to the tourist audience.





The Marvel Abbey, a World Heritage site and France’s second most visited destination after Paris, is not what it used to be. Centuries of human activities have brought about severe silting of the bay where the famous islet is situated. First, the area around was polderised to create pastures that produce the famous agneau de pré salé, deliciously flavourful lamb meat. Then the Couesnon River became canalised, thus reducing the amount of water flowing into the bay. To top it all off, in 1879 the natural isthmus connecting the island to the mainland was transformed into a full-blown causeway. As a result, the onset of the tidal water that was said to be “quicker than a galloping horse” nowadays is just a languid splash of shallow water over a vast expanse of salt marshes. Historically, the Mont used to be over four kilometres away in the sea. These days, it is an island only in the name.

Two years ago French government launched a 150-million-euro project to give the famous landmark its insular character back. The new high-tech dam will allow the river and tide water to naturally swirl around the Mont St. Michel thus flushing out the built up silt into the sea. According to the project’s contractor, the Syndicat Mixte Baie du Mont-Saint-Michel, once the dam is ready it will take about 2 years to clear half the sediment in the bay.

The beauty of the project is that it aims to restore the original ecological balance while keeping the human intervention as low profile as possible. The developers promise that once all the sluices are open, the dam will be barely noticeable. The plans also include the removal of the unsightly parking lot next to the abbey. Good news for the visitor: throughout the construction period the Mont St. Michel will remain open. So if you wondered where your 12-euro admission fee would go to, now you know: to move the abbey back to the sea.

Peculiarly enough, there is a very similar island with a similar looking abbey just off the coast of Cornwall and it's called - surprise - St. Michael's Mount. In my eyes, this proves the mysterious connection anglo-française that I went exploring on this trip.

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Côte Emeraude - Brittany's Emerald Coast


Why is it that in Celtic countries even the rocks look like they have souls? Is it a vestige of the druidic worship of moss-grown boulders dotting the wind-swept heather meadows of Ireland, Scotland or Cornwall? The feature that unites all Celtic lands is a mysterious, meaningful air about their understated weather-worn beauty.

Just turn around the curve of the Mont St. Michel Bay and the scenery, architecture and the very vibe of the area change: you are on the territory of the ancient Duchy of Brittany. Called Little Britain in the Middle Ages to distinguish it from Great Britain across the water, this Celtic principality was an advanced little country: first book in Breton predates the first book in French by 50 years and it got its parliament, États de Bretagne, as early as 1352. The first Breton dictionary – the fact that usually symbolizes the status of a language as established and developed - was also the first French one.




Brittany fiercely fought for its cultural and political independence well until the 16th century when it became annexed into the Kingdom of France through the not quite willing marriage of its Duchess Anne to the French King Louis XII. Strangely enough, the final blow that erased the last traces of Brittany’s autonomy was delivered by the French Revolution in 1789: all feudal privileges were abolished and down went Breton Parliament, the status of the language and cultural autonomy.

A nation of seafarers and fishermen, Brittany is big on fish and seafood. The local way to cook it is called à l’armoricaine – after the Latin name of the Breton seashore – with tomatoes, onions, garlic, herbs (tarragon and/or parsley) and a dash of cognac. Most famously, lobster is served that way for a 5-star gourmet experience. Meat and not only can be served à la bretonne: with tomatoes, haricot beans and garlic. Fishermen’s staple cotriade – is a simple but nonetheless fragrant soup (or stew if you will) of the daily catch with onions and potatoes, identical to its Russian equivalent ukha except for the way the potatoes are chopped. Shellfish and crabs often seem to end up in cream and bread crumbs here.

The village of Cancale situated between the Mont St. Michel and St. Malo is particularly famous for its oysters - les plates de Cancale - that have been farmed here since the Roman times. The proliferation of seafood restaurants on Cancale's seaside almost guarantees that you won't be able to find a place to park your car so arrive well before you start feeling the first pangs of hunger.

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St. Malo - The Granite Jewel of Brittany

Brittany's most visited place, St. Malo is a stark grey jewel - its austere elegance is very Breton. It may look inhospitable from the outside but inside the granite walls there is reputedly the highest concentration of seafood restaurants in France. On a sunny day St. Malo's beaches are teeming with tourist crowds. Skimpily dressed sunbathers form quite a contrast with the steep and mighty fortification walls towering over them.


The city’s past as the seat of corsairs terrorizing the passing ships inspired an opera by Cèsar Cui, a Russian composer of French-Lithuanian parentage. At one point of time, the pirates even established a short-lived republic that bowed neither to the Breton duke nor to the French king. St. Malo’s most famous son, Jacques Cartier set sail from here in 1545 to found what is now known as Québec or French Canada.



Between St. Malo and Dinard lies the Barrage de la Rance – the first tidal power station in the world. Apart from being the bottleneck causing constant traffic jams on the road that runs on top of it, it is also a testimony to the French engineering genius: in 1967 it became the first power station to harness the energy of ocean tides.

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Dinard & St. Lunaire - Hangouts Of The Rich


Also known as the Cannes of the North, Dinard (Dinarzh or “Arthur’s Fort” in Breton) is a posh seaside resort with a vaguely Mediterranean feel. The rich and famous from both sides of the Channel occupy 407 listed Belle Epoque villas in Dinard. Tropical palms and trees line the romantic Promenade du Claire de Lune and sweet smell of rhododendron wafts in the air warmed up by the
nearby Gulf Stream.



St. Lunaire, a short drive from Dinard, is another laid back and posh seaside village inhabited mostly by rich people and those who make a living serving them.

A rich Haitian and a PR genius Sylla Laraque promoted St. Lunaire into fame in late 19th century by building here a luxury casino, an electric heated pool and a superb tennis court renown to this day. He managed to lure the Queen of Romania and scores of French celebrities of the day into building magnificent residences that now make a big part of the town appeal – the other part owes it to the magnificent views and a beautiful haven.


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Jersey - The Bulwark Of Englishness


Jersey is a mere one-hour speed ferry ride away from Brittany but such proximity did not rub any Frenchiness off on it. It could just be yet another Torquay or Townsend-on-Sea transplanted right next to the French coast. In a very endearing way it is a Fawlty Towers kind of experience, complete with dainty English ladies served rack of lamb by swarthy waiters speaking macaronic English in tweed hotels faintly smelling of fish and chips, overlooking rain-drenched expanses of sandy beaches. It is so strictly British in fact that no tourist brochure about the island mentions its most famous resident, Victor Hugo who was unlucky enough to be French.



Even the very way the seafront is developed, rooted in the sacred right of private property, is unmistakeably Anglo-Saxon, uniform from Florida to Brisbane. Whole stretches of beach are made private with only occasional access for outsiders. In St. Helier you can only see the jolly façades of the waterside property (mind you, invariably guarded by CCTV or fierce-looking mutts), if you are friends with somebody owning a house there. Otherwise, it’s just the tree-shadowed driveways in the back for you to admire.


It is quite different on the mainland. The French ancien régime passion for beauty and pleasure is tempered by the Republican ideas of egalitè. The bloodshed and terror of the Revolution forced the French rich and mighty to make concessions and the gory lesson is still remembered until this day. The exuberant beauty of waterfront mansions in Trouville or St. Lunaire is for everyone to enjoy, just like the beaches that remain strictly public. The majority of French chateaux welcome you, for a consideration, to gawk at their wealth of historical vestiges and their owners’ refined lifestyles.


German, Dutch, English or Danish coastal resort towns may be all clean, twee and well-run but even the very expressions la douceur de la vie as well as la dolce vita are used as is in Northern European languages. It will hardly occur to you, and for a good reason, to visit Bristol, Zandvoort or Abernaa on a gourmet trip. The English and the Dutch escape to the sea just to get away from it all, but in France it is a more sophisticated affair that involves titillating all your senses. Ichthyophobic Northerners seem to mistrust the gifts from the sea and prefer their whiting thoroughly deep-fried and smothered in sauce. The French seafood platter, consumed raw with the lightest of condiments, celebrates the whole-hearted acceptance of whatever the deep brine has to offer.


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