Normandie

I did not start at the cathedral square. I cut east of the spires, past the flamboyant stone lace of Saint-Maclou, and pushed open the gate into the Aître Saint-Maclou. A square courtyard. Half-timber galleries on four sides. Carved skulls, bones, and gravediggers’ tools in the wood above your head. The street noise thinned. A … Read more

Most people treat Cherbourg as a hinge. Ferry in, coach out, Cotentin coast tomorrow. Fair enough if you are chasing dunes or the Cap. I stayed for the hinge itself: the working water in the middle of town, and the iron swing bridge that opens the Bassin du Commerce when a mast needs the cut. … Read more

Étretat owns the cliff postcards fifteen minutes west. Fécamp keeps the working water. I came for the port that once sent cod fleets toward Newfoundland, and for a museum stuffed into a 1950s drying factory on Quai Capitaine Jean Recher. Les Pêcheries does not polish the sea into scenery. It smells of old timber and … Read more