Last Day in France — and the last post on this travel blog

It's Tuesday morning here. In a few minutes we'll get into Marie's car and drive to Paris and then we'll say goodbye.

Here are some shots from yesterday:

We started off the morning with a trip to a local micro-brewery. Beer = la bière.

I like to order local brews, but here in France, whenever I ask for French beer, I'm given a pained look and I'm brought something excellent but made in Belgium.

But then, on Friday night, one of the vendors was selling her own beer! Made 15 minutes from Berneval in a tiny village!

Marie — only Marie could do this! — Marie chatted with the vendor and came back saying we could visit the brewery on Monday!

Here, you see the brewer holding malt in her hand. We each ate a grain. Tastes good!

Here's the final product, not available at Woodman's:

We went down to the beach at Puys, near Braquemont, to harvest some mussels from the shore.

 Other people were doing this, too. You can too, when you come to Normandy:

We brought a few handfuls of mussels home and cooked them up. Marie made a sauce with creme fraiche. Oh, my!

The beach at Puys remembers the Canadians who fell here in the carnage of August 19, 1942.

Later on, we went up to Le Tréport, a few minutes north of Berneval. The photo below is from Mers-les-bains, a fancy (and expensive) resort.

Across this sea is my home.  I'll be home soon...

Le Tréport is a fishing town. Its economy depends on fishing. The local energy company plans to install windmills out in the sea.  There's a huge protest against placing the windmills in the sea.

Windmill = eolienne

GDF = Gas de France  Sort of like MG&E in Madison.

You can see in the poster above that the letters G, D, F are a different color, now part of the protest against GDF.

The fishermen are convinced that the windmills will destroy the fisheries and will also destroy the lives of the fishermen. No more fish.  Below: NO to the dictatorship of the windmill. NOT in our fishing zones!

 We took a boat ride out in the sea along the white cliffs.  Magnificent!

Came back into harbor through a lock:

Capped off the day with seafood at a restaurant along the docks. Mmmm.

Here is the amazing woman who made all this possible, one of the most generous people I have ever met:

Thank you, Marie-Therese. And thank you to Jean & Nicole, to Anne-Marie, and to Juliette & Fabien and the girls.  I have had an incredible three weeks in France. I love you all. Gros bises !

Rouen

On Thursday, July 21, Marie and I took a trip to Rouen, about an hour's drive away.  

Come, take a walk with me through the streets of Rouen. It's the capital city of Normandy.

Street after street is filled with this very old architecture.

The streets are paved with bricks in an intricate fan-shaped design.

My favorite street if full of antique shops — really old, fine antiquités — and shops selling and restoring stringed instruments. 

I like the reflections in the shop windows as much as the displays.

The yellow building in the background of the photo below is where Marie's daughter, Juliette, lived for two years when she worked in environmental law.

Juliette's apartment was on what we would call the 3rd floor. Here in France, that's the 2nd floor —

le deuxième étage.

There's a little café alongside that yellow building. Marie and I stopped here for a cup of espresso and a cookie. The photo below shows more or less what Juliette saw everyday when she stepped outside.

'

Zach, perhaps your house in New Orleans was just following its French example?

We walk along. More violins ...

Made me think of Spruce Tree Music in Madison. We went inside.

Why can't my camera capture the beauty that is here? This flat photo just gives you a hint.  

The church advertised a concert of Bach music to be played on their magnificent organ. We decided to come back at 4:00 for the concert.

We walked on.

Joan of Arc was burned at the stake in 1431 here in Rouen.  I was standing on the spot where she died when I took the photo below. This building predates 1431; it would have witnessed the event.

A church was built adjacent to this spot, using windows that were removed from the old St. Vincent's church which was later destroyed. 

I would not have thought that old windows would look good in a modern building, but this is gorgeous:

The clock in the bell tower, known as Le Gros Horloge, was built in 1389, one of the oldest clocks in France. It was important politically, because before this clock, only priests had the right to ring bells. 

We climbed up to see the interior.

The 100 winding steps were a challenge for my old knees!  But the men who were employed to maintain the clock and ring the bells climbed these stairs more than once a day. They lived in a tiny 2-rom apartment right in the tower!

Here's the view of the city from the tower in the middle of the street:

The bells are at the very top.

Here's another dramatically leaning building:

Before we left Rouen, we walked back to that plaza next to Juliette's old abode and had a beer. 

Belgian beer is the closest I could get to locally brewed...   Until we found a woman who runs a tiny micro-brewery near Berneval. If possible, I'll show you that tomorrow in one final post from France.

Little country roads in Normandy, a birthday, and lovely beaches

Drive a minute south of Berneval toward Dieppe and you're here in this field on a narrow road, hay fields running down to the sea.

Turn around and here's what's on the other side of the road!

Turn back again and ... watch out!

I love these signs with exclamation points!

And this one:  Share the Road!

Normandy is known for its production of flax, from which linen is made. In the photo below you see a field of golden flax which has just been cut. (Look hard to see windmills in the distance. In French they are éoliennes.)

This flax will lie flat here until it's harvested in November. By then it will be all gray and black, and, I imagine, pretty nasty-looking.  That's because the woody stem and the inner pith will have rotted away. Only then can the linen fibers be retrieved.

Here's what the linen fields look like before they're cut down:

I don't know what the grain is in the photo below. Could it be oats?

Just as I had my camera out to take a picture of these fields, look who we passed! 

Here's a very old farm, still functioning:

You can tell that this farmer is not poor; check out his fancy house!

A few days ago, when Lucette and her granddaughters were still here, we drove to Criel-sur-Mer, between Berneval and Le Tréport, to celebrate Lucette's birthday at a seaside restaurant.

Down at the beach, the sun had just set when we finished dinner.

The beaches here have tiny houses that you can rent by the month. 

You can't sleep in these houses, but you can change clothes here and get out of the sun, stash your towels and beach chairs.

Everybody ran down to the water.

Back in Berneval that evening, there was little light left. But we had to go down for a little more beach time.

I think Lucette had a fine birthday.

Jump ahead to yesterday, back in Dieppe. After checking out a very fine art exhibit in the castle, Marie and I went to the beach, in search of a beer.

Here, too, are those little beach houses:

Bring your own chair:

"Read on the beach," it says. Lire a la Plage. This is like a little library. Take a book, leave a book, or just take a book for a while and read it here.