Stopping for directions, expensive directions

Be careful where you stop and ask for help, especially when it's a Producteur de Foie Gras. The picture to the right shows the result - directions that cost me $120. I bought cassoulet au confit de canard, foie gras, two types of rillette de canard, confiture cassis et pomme, and my prized catch - Graisse de Canard (pure duck fat).

Editor's Note:
I have two questions for you Joe....
1. How the heck are we going to fit all the cookware, booze and food into our suitcases?
2. Aren't you at all concerned that we're going to be waaaaaaay over our weight allotment?

Mont Saint Michel

We left the D-Day beaches and headed west toward Mont Saint Michel, a popular pilgrimage centre since 708 AD. (You can see it in the background of the photo.) We booked ourselves into another 'chambres d'hotes' and started exploring. We went to Mont Saint Michel just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, which was a perfect time to visit the island and abbey as most of the tourists were leaving.

As we wound our way through the abbey working our way to the top, musicians were performing at various spots. It was so relaxing to sit and listen to them play their instruments in such an incredible setting.

We left for Paris the next morning and just as we were pulling out onto the narrow road I heard some sheep bleating. A shepherd was taking his flock across the road to graze in the fields beyond. I hopped out of the car, camera in hand, and shot the above photo. Sheep that feed on the salt marsh grasses that surround Mont Saint Michel are prized for their taste. Who knew?

Thank you, Normandy. We had a great time.

Le Grand Abbaye

Oh sure. 'Monsieur Guest Blogger' is too tired to write a post about our morning at Le Grand Abbaye. (Sheesh! I have to do everything around here.)

Now, where was I in this long-winded story? Oh yes, it's all coming back to me now......

We followed Monsieur et Madame's car over hill and through dale for 45 minutes until we came to 'Le Grand Abbaye'. We drove through an ancient gate in a stone wall and parked. The Remarquiers introduced us to their friend Monsieur Letouze. We bid adieu to our B&B hosts with heartfelt bisous (double cheek kisses) all around.

'Le Grand Abbaye' was once an abbey in the 1200s, but was converted to a farm in the 1600s. Monsieur Letouze was born on this farm.

We thought (wrongly) that we'd do a little tasting of M. Letouze's products, buy some bottles and be on our way. Mais non, mes amies! Because we were introduced by the Remarquiers, Monsieur Letouze gave us a 2 hour tour of his property.

Now remember, this tour was conducted entirely in French. M. Letouze was kind enough to speak very slowly with us and (bless his soul) he also used his hands a lot. He showed us everything. His orchard with 2,000 apple trees. His acreage where people camped. His apple press. The 800 year old granary. The medieval stone house where bread is baked once a week. The storage rooms full of ancient oak barrels full of cider, pommeau and calvados. (Side note: whenever we were in the rooms with barrels or vats, we all had to sample his wares. Not that I'm complaining mind you.)

M. Letouze kept asking me, "Are you interested in medieval architecture?" When my answer was a resounding "Oui!" off we'd go to another area of his farm to show me where the chapel once stood or the abbey altar which is now housed in a stable.

Once we were given a proper tour of the farm, we were ushered into monsieur's 800 year old home to taste his products. It was at this point I mentioned (en francais) to his wife that our house in Canada was a whopping 30 years old. She sweetly smiled and shrugged.

We first started with cider. It was very good. (We bought 2 bottles.) Then we tasted some 'pommeau'. It was really good. (We bought 4 bottles.) Then we tried his calvados. Super good! (We bought 2 bottles of that to take home with us.) How the hell we're going to drink all of that booze before we fly home is beyond me. But like the saying goes: Where there's a will, there's a way.

It was a very special morning for us.

I love French people.

French Happy Hour

Joe and I had a wonderful day visiting all of the D-Day beaches. We both learned so much!

After a long day, we returned to Monsieur et Madame Remarquier's B&B very tired and hungry. Just as we were heading up the stairs to have a wee nap and a shower, Madame poked her head around the corner and invited us to have an aperitif with her and the monsieur later on. We gladly accepted their offer and were looking forward to practicing our 'parlez vous' with our generous hosts.

We spent a highly enjoyable hour with the Remarquiers. Our conversation was entirely in French. We could understand most of what they said, but I don't know if they knew what the hell we were talking about. We laughed a lot, Madame called me a 'bon vivante' and our French/English dictionary was passed between Joe and I the entire time.

Monsieur served 'pommeau', a traditional fermented apple wine of Normandy. It was delicious.

Just as we were leaving for dinner, Monsieur insisted that we have a digestif with them when we returned after supper. I inwardly groaned because I knew that I'd be cross-eyed by that time. I almost fell over when I heard Joe say, "Oui! A quel heure?" As everyone knows I am a very social person and am not one to pass up a drink, but I was so fatigued from our hour long conversation with the Remarquiers. It is exhausting to listen, speak and follow the conversation in a language you barely understand.

But I digress.

We hadn't even pulled into their driveway from dinner and Monsieur was opening the door welcoming us back in. This time he served us 'calvados', a strong apple liqueur. And of course we loved it. Joe remarked that he'd like to buy some before we left Normandy. Did monsieur know any 'producteurs'? Well, yes he did as a matter of fact.....

Plans were quickly made for the Remarquiers to take us out to the countryside the next morning to their friend's farm 'Le Grand Abbaye' to sample some apple cider, pommeau and calvados. Needless to say it was an amazing experience.

My 'guest blogger' (aka my husband) wants to write about it. So I'll let him tell you all about our wonderful morning at 'Le Grand Abbaye'.

Omaha Beach

This sculpture, 'Les Braves', sits on the sand at Omaha Beach.

D-Day Beaches

Sculpture in front of the Juno Beach Canadian War Museum.


The Normandy beaches stretch for about 75 miles along the Atlantic coastline, many of them still bearing the remains and reminders of World War II. This place is a history buff's dream come true. Especially a war history buff.

Joe and I spent a full day visiting each of the D-Day (Jour J in French) beaches and were moved to tears many times. It is truly humbling to be in the place where so many young men lost their lives for our freedom. Their sacrifices really hit home when you are standing in the exact place where so many thousands of Canadians died.

We also visited the Canadian Cemetery. I picked a small bouquet of wildflowers at the side of the road and Joe laid them at the base of a monument in the centre of the cemetery. As we walked around the grounds reading the names and ages of the fallen soldiers, we were so touched to see many of the gravestones bearing Canadian coins. Joe quickly rummaged through his pockets to see if he had any Canadian coins to lay on the gravestones, but unfortunately he had left them all back at our apartment in Paris.

It is heartening to see the beaches 65 years later now full of families sun-bathing, swimming and having picnics. Just the way it should be. Thanks to the brave men and women of WWII.

Bienvenue!

Everywhere we went in Normandy we saw welcome signs. And lots of Canadian flags. It's nice to have such a warm welcome in a foreign land.

Chambres D'hotes

There must be thousands, if not tens of thousands, of 'chambres d'hotes' dotted throughout the countryside. Chambres d'hotes are the French version of a B&B. Joe and I were a getting a little worried when we first drove into the many seaside villages that line the coast of Normandy because all of the hotels and motels were completely booked. This is where many Parisians flock for their summer holidays.

We decided to try our luck with a chambre d'hote. THAT was even looking grim for a while. Every place we stopped at was already full! We were thinking that our little Fiat 500 just may be our abode for the night.

After being turned down several times, we finally hit pay dirt in Sommervieu. Monsieur et Madame Remarquier welcomed us into their home (photo) and showed us up to our room beneath the roof. It was as cute as it was quaint. Madame and Monsieur did not speak a word of English, but with our mangled French we managed to make a little small talk and confirm a time for breakfast the next morning.

The Remarquiers were more than helpful in giving us a few restaurant recommendations for dinner. After eating an incredible meal in the shadow of the Bayeux Cathedral, we headed back to their place only to get lost due to a GPS malfunction. IT WAS PITCH BLACK AND WE COULD SEE NOTHING! We drove around and around for over an hour looking for their house. When we finally pulled into their driveway at 1:00am, we felt like school kids out past curfew. We discovered the next morning that Madame couldn't sleep until she heard our key in the latch.

Such a good maman!