Our last day in France. It always make me a little melancholy, leaving. As much as I love England (and I really do), it’s France that holds my heart.
The afternoon will see us driving to Le Havre to board the ferry, bound for Portsmouth. There’s time though, for a quick foray into Honfleur and a last French lunch.
We manage to see the interior of Eglise Saint-Leonard,
Nearby, is the town’s old laverie – I’ve yet to look at one of these and not be exceedingly grateful for modern washing machines.
I capture the morning light that eluded me in Le Vieux Bassin yesterday.
The Greniers a Sel is looking particularly fine in the morning light.
And we wander about for a while, it being a little early for lunch.
Himself spotted a Normandy poulet dish he rather fancies, at a restaurant we’ve enjoyed previously.
It disappoints him today though – “dry” he declares and drowns his sorrows in icecream. It’s a rare misstep: we’ve eaten very well on this trip. I, meanwhile, have my old faithful – salade de chevre. It’s not failed me yet. Creme caramel to finish. Old school, yes, but good with it.
We wander home and set out for Le Havre, having completed necessary travel chores in the morning.
Our last views of France are familiar: the extraordinary double bridge arching over the mouth of the Seine and its wetlands bid us adieu.
It’s an uneventful, if a little rougher than usual, 5 hour crossing. Time to catch up on a little writing, start a new book and even catch a glorious sea sunset.
PS: Amusing incident from yesterday. Spotted a veterinary clinic across the road on the way home. “Let’s cross over and see if they’ve got anything good in the window” says I, having furry friend withdrawal symptoms, but not really expecting to see anything. We cross, to find a gorgeous white trimmed tabby sunning himself in the window. He’s there again this morning – the practice cat I suspect. And a very relaxed fellow, at that.