Normandie and Northern France

May 29 - June 15:

Poppy season

Impressive family veggie plots

Honfleur, Normandy

Etretat, Normandy

Now we are in Normandie - home of soft cheeses (like Camembert), Percheron draft horses, hard and soft ciders, fish and Sue's ancestors. Ian was reminded often that if we saw something lovely, it was likely created by one of Sue's ancestors! The cycling is a little hillier in southern and northwest Normandie, with quaint houses splashed with rose trellises, daisies and irises. Like in the Loire, the window boxes add charm and colour to the streets.

We had a tail wind to the town of Vallieres where we stayed at a gite - a lovely cabin in the back yard of a house, complete with kitchen, fireplace and bed! The weather had turned quite nasty, so we were thankful for our cosy home for the night. A windy and challenging ride brought us to Canare, followed the next day by a splendid ride traversing a higher elevation protected forest affording broad vistas of the Normandie countryside, bringing us to the southern town of Mortagne.

We stayed at the Gros Chene (large oak) farm for 2 days, thoroughly enjoying participating in the table d'hotes. Table d'hotes is where we join the family hosts in a typical French meal. The meal was incredible with fresh bread and baudin noire (cold meat roll), local white asparagus in a rich cream sauce, fish, local soft cheeses like Camenbert and Livarot (cheese is served after dinner and before dessert here) and finally, fruit flan, all served with copious amounts of local hard cider with a splash of cassis. Local food specialties are core to the French culture and Normandie prides itself on fish, cream, hard and soft ciders and soft cheeses - we indulged ourselves accordingly!

We endured steep hills to reach the town of Talouvre and the museum featuring information about the people who emigrated from Normandie to settle old Quebec in the 1600's. Sue's father's family comes from this area in that era. The ride from Talouvre to Vimoutiere was heavenly, gliding through a small valley populated with horse farms, passing a handful of cars in hours, the last road being only 10' wide. The small D roads are heavenly in France. It is easy to get lost as signage is sparse at intersections, but when we can use these roads, it is a dream. Other times, a lovely cycling lane or trail can quickly disappear, launching us with no warning onto busier highways and thoroughfares. The further from the Loire that we travel, the more inconsistent the signage and cycling conditions seem to be. The campsites are all great and easy to find. Our camping neighbours are usually sociable 'caravaners' from England, Germany or Holland and other touring cyclists (more so in the Loire).

We reached the Atlantic Ocean/English Channel at Caen and met many friendly folks, including Stephan, an awesome bike mechanic who helped with bike adjustments. We participated in the D-day ceremonies on June 6 commemorating the start of the liberation of Europe. We were moved by how the war affected this area (and Allied families at home) and the warmth still extended to us as Canadians and cyclists. Many of the towns had streets and plazas named for Canada and the towns' liberation dates.

We had some highlights and lowlights along the next section of coast. We loved Trouville, Honfleur and St. Valery, but had a hellish ride through Le Havre, being dumped on a truck route from a dedicated cycling lane off the huge Normandie bridge. Apparently there was some sort of cycling trail 1-2 km after the bridge that no signage or tourism folks directed us to.

Heading north up the coast, we landed on a hilly campground at the ancestral home of Sue's family at Fecamp. The town is an intriguing mix of old and new, having a long history of boating and fishing, including early expeditions to the cod banks of Newfoundland. The local archivist dug out the baptism records of the two Marcotte brothers that emigrated to Canada from here, the ancestors of Sue's grandmother's family. We were quite surprised when the archivist pointed us to the 'rue des freres Marcottes', named after these same two brothers. We were even more impressed when exploring this 200 m section of road in the heart of town to find a house with a plaque commemorating the Marcotte 'pioneers to Canada'. After almost 400 years, a revolution, wars, etc., their memory lives on. And just around the corner from the street the city's ancient wall and the palace where William the Conqueror celebrated the conquest of Britiain in 1066!

Fecamp boasts 5 modern windmills on the top of the hill overlooking the town, alongside a windy campsite. Our riding from here on north was studded with windmills, all with their backs to us - i.e. headwinds for we poor cyclists!

The town of Etretats, just north of Fecamp, is stunning, with sculpted cliffs and limestone arches adorning both sides of the town. We visited the awesome Marquenterre bird sanctuary adjoining the Somme river estuary (storks, egrets, spoonbills, and lots of other waterbirds) and pounded our way north against continuing strong headwinds and increasingly cool and cloudy weather. We finally ran out of stunning white cliffs (up), flax and corn fields (flat), interspersed with cute coastal fishing villages (down) in Boulogne, where we hopped the train via picturesque Lilles to Brugge, Belgium. Here we met up with our great friends Andy, Sylvia, Aurora and Naomi from Hamilton, near the end of their own year of adventure that began in Asia.

We walked into an unknown train station, bikes in hand, and had a choice of several trains going our way all day - how awesome is that? We are grateful to be able to bring our loaded bikes on the trains, but a few ramps rather than stairs would be helpful! Once in Belgium, the train disembarking was MUCH easier! While the French have a deep love of cycle touring, and wished us 'bon courage' throughout our 1200 km of riding here, some of the details (and us, too) get lost along the way. We had to lift our bikes up and down flights of stairs and about 3' up onto and off the train.

In France, we felt so welcomed, both as cyclists and Canadians. Never once did we get a strange look from people that we would be cycling over hill and dale, along isolated country roads or along highways as needed. They appreciated and complimented our French, despite our language stumbles. The drivers, whether in minis or transports, are always respectful and gave us a safe wide berth. Our experience would have been improved if the signage and consistency of cycling facilities were better, but wow - thanks France for a real ride of discovery!