BY JOHN FITZGERALD
Besides Omaha Beach and the many sites associated with the Allied landings on D-Day in 1944, the draws in Normandy are many. They include the magnificent Palais Bénédictine in Fécamp; Rouen, the “city of spires”; and the almost excessively famous 13th-century abbey, Mont-Saint-Michel.
Equally noteworthy, as I discovered during a visit not long ago, the charms of Normandy extend to the tiny port city of Honfleur. Then there’s swish Deauville, home of the glittering Deauville Film Festival, and Bayeux with its gorgeously varied architecture and world-famous tapestry that is really not a tapestry at all.
Accompanied by Anne-Marie, a native of Normandy who was showing me some of the sights (and doing all of the driving), we stopped one afternoon last April at Château de Brécourt — a refurbished 17th-century manor house — en route to Honfleur.
These days, the château, not far from the Impressionists painter Claude Monet’s romantic house and gardens in Giverny, is a 30-room hotel dedicated to the joys of gastronomy and solitude, guestrooms having neither TVs, fax machines nor any other electronic clutter.
Built in the style of Louis XIII, with a majestic slate roof and a wooded park as its setting, Brécourt is popular among Parisians. Fleeing the capital on weekends for a calmer environment, or spending vacations here, they can be in Normandy in about an hour, taking the train from the Gare St-Lazare or, if they’re driving, using the autoroute de l’Ouest.
Having a passionate affection for this part of France, Anne-Marie wanted me to see Honfleur’s port and medieval buildings, with their colombage, or half-timbered, façades. But owing to the exuberant wines that appeared during lunch at the château, not to mention the marinated pigeon, cheeses, chocolate tart and other dishes that were brought to the table, we didn’t arrive at our destination until late in the afternoon.
I was immediately taken with Honfleur’s Old Dock, where sailboats bobbed and trembled in the hearty breeze alongside compact, brightly painted fishing vessels called chalutiers. Immensely picturesque, with a row of tall, narrow buildings overlooking the boats, the harbour has inspired not only Monet but other Impressionists such as Eugène Boudin — the local museum named after him, we would briefly visit — and the Dutchman, Johan Jongkind.
Samuel de Champlain, the indefatigable explorer and founder of Quebec City in Canada, sailed from Honfleur on his numerous voyages to the New World, and it’s still used as a port for small groups of local fishers bringing in eel, dogfish and brill.
As Anne-Marie and I walked the short distance to Sainte-Catherine’s church, we saw large numbers of tourists ducking into shops selling cider, crepes and various crafts. Galleries, of which there were a surprisingly large number given the modest size of the community, featured the work of local and regional artists.
Sainte-Catherine’s holds the distinction of being the largest wooden church in France with a separate belfry. After the departure of the English from Normandy in the 1400s, local carpenters skilled in boat-building were used to construct a wooden church to replace a stone structure that had been destroyed. The new church was added to and altered somewhat in successive centuries.
What I saw delighted me, especially the interior that’s designed to resemble an upturned boat with a Gothic vault supported by enormous oak pillars, timbered walls and expertly carved wooden statues of Mary Magdelene, Saint Augustine and Saint Anne.
By the time we reached Deauville, the resort town created in the 1860s by the Duc de Morny — the result of his life’s experiences was once deliciously described as being “gaiety and dissipation” — we had just time before dinner to walk the famous sand-dusted boardwalk adjacent to the beach and briefly tour the casino.
Inaugurated in 1912 and, since the mid-1970s, the venue for the American Film Festival, the casino’s rooms are decorated in flamboyant Belle Époque style and have seen plenty of personalities striding beneath their massive chandeliers. Coco Chanel tried her luck at the casino, as did Robert de Rothschild and auto magnate André Citroën, who is reported to have spent $500,000 (U.S.) in a 10-hour stint at the gaming tables.
Driving out of town the next morning, I was impressed by the sight of some of the immaculate-looking stud farms. Normandy is recognized as the finest showcase of French horse breeding and Deauville known especially for its yearlings, with sales taking place each August. Prices, I’d read, can easily go as high as a million euros for a promising colt. I spotted at least six or seven serene-looking animals grazing atop a carpet of brilliant green grass.
Dampened by the sea, the soil in this area of Normandy is particularly rich, with plenty of pasturelands bordered by close hedges that keep each parcel of land separate from the roads. Almost everywhere along our route, patches of white hawthorn dressed the hedges as we passed.
Having been spared bomb damage inflicted by the Allies in the run up to the June 1944 invasion, the medieval city of Bayeux, situated within a dozen kilometres of the invasion beaches, was the first sous-prefecture of Metropolitan France to be liberated. It was also where General Charles de Gaulle, leader of the Free French Forces set up his headquarters following his arrival back in France on June 14, 1944, thereby ending a four year exile.
Many visitors to Bayeux use the city as a convenient base for excursions to Juno and the other invasion beaches. That’s what we did as well, checking me in for a two night stay at a small hotel called the Churchill on the rue St. Jean (Anne-Marie had returned to her home and family in Caen).
Dominated by its exceptionally fine cathedral, Bayeux, like many other cities in France, is fortunate to have dozens of buildings representing architectural styles that span the centuries. Taking advantage of a break in the weather, I happily strolled through the streets a day after I arrived in the city and was amazed at the variety on display.
I saw wood and plaster dwellings from the Middle Ages, Gothic style Renaissance manor houses, and massive stone hôtels particuliers or former mansions that projected the grace and elegance of 18th building.
My hotel, the Churchill, was only a five-minute walk to the William the Conqueror Centre that houses the Bayeux Tapestry Museum and its exquisite remnant of Norman times. A richly embroidered linen canvas that looks absolutely nothing like a tapestry in the traditional sense, it measures 70 centimetres long and 50 centimetres high.
With figures sewn in eight different colours of wool, it depicts the circumstances that set William on his road to conquest of England and the battles that ensued before his victory at Hastings in 1066. The tapestry was made in an English monastery and first exhibited in 1077 before William and his queen, Mathilde at the dedication of the Bayeux Cathedral.
Pausing often as I moved slowly along its length, I felt myself drawn into each one of the dozens of vividly depicted scenes. Holding a handset to my ear as I listened to the crisp, English-accented commentary, I was transported to a world of archers and infantry, nobles and knights.
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