Normandy Part III: Etretat

Etretat is this really famous place that I had never heard of. It’s famous because of this

and views like this (the cliff, not the bird)

the crashing surf.

Um, I don’t think the Normandy invasion could have taken place here with this hostile beach front. Sir thinks the invasion took place about an hour in the other direction from Deauville. One day I’ll take you there, okay?

Unfortunately there is no train from Paris.  To drive to Etretat, you go along roads like this

here

And over this

Once there, the beach is full of smooth grey stones.

No sand, just stones everywhere.

We started out with a filling lunch of galettes (a galette is a salty crèpe made of buckwheat)

and we shared a melted camembert marmite with cider-drenched potatoes and apples.  Camembert is pronounced like cam-um-bear and is similar to brie, only better.  Oh, and did I mention the smoked ham mixed in?

It’s a good thing, because after lunch, this was only the beginning.

There were also these steps to climb.

all to get to a very worthwhile view from the top.

The cows in Normandy look like none I’ve ever seen. (They were on top too).  But then again, I haven’t had the chance to examine that many cows either. Tell me – do they look different to you?

It might be because they feed on this grass

which is long, luxurious, rich green grass.  That must be where they got the title “The Laughing Cow.”  (Yeah, laughing right up to the slaughterhouse)!

But maybe that’s why camembert is so good.  (FYI: You know each cheese comes from a region, but Normandy never registered the trademark for camembert so it can be made anywhere in France and still be called camembert.  It’s still best from Normandy, though.) The cows are that good, or the grass that they eat is.

Having gone up one « summit » we decided to hike down to the beach on the other side.

To get yet another view

However, what goes down, must labor back up again.  Don’t pity me – I ate camembert.  However, I wish my stairmaster days were not so very far behind me.

We decided to forgo the other peak, the more famous one, as our muscles had already gotten a good workout and we couldn’t bear the thought of starting on a new mission.

Once in town we passed this building on the way to our car. It was built in the Middle Ages, taken apart and restored again in 1912.

Here’s the restaurant part

and here’s the hotel part.

And then … oh look – my flag! Here of all places: my country, my people. We are in Normandy after all, which is the fittest place to remember the country’s debt to America and Great Britain.

Sigh. I feel nostalgic seeing such a tribute to our two countries, with the flags side by side. A new career for me perhaps? The Blogging Ambassador of Franco-American Relations.

Alrighty then, on to Honfleur.

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