Francapades - Le Havre to Mont Saint Michel

Day 2 and we were on the road early to avoid resorting to a hotel breakfast, packing the car up it was time for some new tunes, and todays starting song was "Road To Nowhere" Talking Heads, and it set the mood for another day of back roads, country lanes and the occasional motorway with REALLY big bridges...well there was only one of them, which I am grateful for as to cross the Pont de Normandie is €12!


First stop was the picturesque town of Honfleur for nutella crepes, freshly pressed OJ and a cuppa tea. The markets were going when we arrived, so we wandered around and Hussyband looked worried while I eyed off antique wardrobes, cutlery canteens and art deco pieces. But I was strong, and stayed away from temptation (ok, not so far away that a few pieces were not stained with my drool...)

Wandering further into town we went in search of the Museum Erik Satie - an avante garde French composer and pianist, and was a prolific writer (who enjoyed publishing his writings under pseudonyms). He was a reknown booze hound - something anyone in my family can relate to as lets face it, we all like our booze. The museum is over several levels, twisting and turning and even includes a carousel. If you are ever on the area check it out. Gnossienne No. 1 is one of his most recognisable works (have a listen to the YouTube video to the left while you read this).

Wandering on we headed for the the tourist route through the Normandy Cidre region.  Sadly being a Sunday most of them were shut in the morning (something to do with religion??) but we managed to find a few, and since I was driving Hussyband selected a few for us to drink over the next week when we got to Montguillon and our cottage.

Lunch was a couple of baguettes with cheese and tomato near the causeway for Mont Saint Michel, our resting point for the night. Wandering along the riverbank we marveled at the engineering that had been undertaken to protect the area from the extremely high tides that the area is known for. Kind of looks like a smaller version of the Thames Barrier.

There are not a lot of dining options in the area - hotel restaurants, and over priced tourist traps on the Mont, so we sucked it up and dined at the hotel restaurant. The fixed price options of 2 courses + cheese grabbed both of us, so we went for the local salt bush lamb tagine with saffron rice, and salted caramel desserts. The cheeses were a local brie, and a nice chunk of Pont l'Eveque which was perfectly stinky and gooey - wonderful really (sorry Mum).

Early the next morning I got up as I wanted to try to get a photo of the Mont with the morning sea mist.

Stopping off on the way back to the hotel to wake Hussyband with fresh croissants and hot chocolate, we loaded up the car again and headed across the causeway to explore Mont Saint-Michel. The island has been a strategic point holding fortifications since ancient times, and since the 8th century AD it became the seat of the Saint-Michel monastery, from which it draws the name. The Mont-Saint-Michel and its bay are part of the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites.

Steep cobblestone streets are lined with tourist trap shops, creperies, and whilst we found it beautiful it felt contrived. Only when we climbed the steps up onto the lower battlements could we see the beauty and get a sense of what the builders had to go through to put this masterpiece together so long ago when there were no helicopters or cranes to ease in lifting masonry and beams can you appreciate why UNESCO think so highly of the site.

Hitting the road for the last leg of the trip to our cottage home for the next 8 nights, we stopped off at a couple of farm shops for local cidre, cheese and salted caramel in a few different forms (fudge, hard lollies, sauce, macaroons...oh the options were mind boggling!)

Next stop Montguillon.

No Washing Your Feet!

Maisons Satie
67 Blvd Charles V, 14600 Honfleur, France

Mercure Mont Saint-Michel
Route Du Mont Saint Michel BP 8 , Le Mont-Saint-Michel, Manche 50170 France

Francapades - London to Le Havre

At butt fuck early on a Saturday morning, Hussyband and I loaded up Rhonda the Randy Honda for our first European Roadtrip. Cold Chisel blared as we zoomed down a deserted M20 at 4.30am - a time meant for clubbers to be stumbling home and bakers to be turning our fresh loaves of bread, not for being awake and driving a car down the coast!

The train terminal at Folkestone is pretty much bereft of anything resembling decent food, so a cuppa tea in a styrofoam cup was breakfast. Wish we had eaten more, as there was a delay on the trains and we sat out on the departure paddock for over an hour until given the OK to board our train.

Crossing the Channel by train though could not be easier, or faster, as in 25mins we were on the other side of the water and heading towards Le Havre. Following the coast, we drove through coastal villages and hamlets, stopping for a croque monsieur to take the edge off our hunger and adding to my caffeine consumption with a Red Bull and an espresso. 

Our first stop of the trip is Le Havre, where we stayed at the Novotel Hotel (along with the Scottish Womens Football team much to Hussybands delight!) After a soak in the bath and a nanna-nap we headed off in search of dinner armed with some suggestions of the concierge....and then promptly ended up somewhere else as we got lost.

Finding a small bistro opposite the marina, the menu looked tempting so we headed into "Restaurant La Voile Bleue" for a drink or two and to have an early dinner. 

Hussyband started with a bottle of Pelforth Brune, while I went for a rum punch that packed more than a wallop on my tired body. With a bowl of beer snacks, we chatted to the owner via her son who was recently returned from 12 months in Oz, and made our selections.

First course of the evening was a shared seafood platter piled high with plump prawns, oysters, a whole crab, aioli, lemons and the most god awful item of seafood I have ever tried - bulots. These puppies were so not good on the not good scale of things that Hussyband and I managed one each. 

Thankfully there was booze to wash it down with. We had to wash it down, a lot.

Moving onto our mains, Hussyband went for the duck breast with peppercorn sauce, it was perfectly cooked, just rare in the middle, crisp skin, and the sauce was just peppery enough not to overwhelm the flesh. Of course it came with the obligatory bistro sides of salad and frites....does anyone do frites better than the French? I have yet to find out, but wow if they do....

My main was very very naughty - i went for the foie gras burger, with blood rare beef, a huge hunk of tomato and mayo...yes, like foie gras needs any more fat added to it, but the French added saffron mayo...and it was FABULOUS. I washed it down with a nice big glass or two of Blaye Cotes de Bordeaux Le Verre.

Now by this stage of the evening I was struggling to keep my eyes open, even though it was only about 9am (the alarm had gone off at 4am, and I had driven a loooong way) so we headed back to the hotel for a nightcap and bed.

La Voile Bleue

Boulevard Albert 1er, 76600 Le Havre, France

Phone : 02 3 5 22 9

Mains: €15-30

Pros: price, staff, wine list, rum selection

Cons: That I didn't get to eat desert!

Creme Brulee - A Trilogy

Last night we went to La Matafan for dinner, and whilst the mains really were lovelly, what I want to tell you about is the desert. Not just A desert but THREE deserts all lined up pretty on a platter.

Now, unlike Amelie, I am neither innocent or naive, but like her I do so love a good creme brulee - the crack of the sugar under the back of my spoon, the smooth creme across my tongue and the sigh of satisfaction as it rolls down my throat.

These brulee's were to die for. We started with the brown sugar one...nice, perfect top, and the ramekin was lined with the sugar as well making for a wonderful caramel throughout.

Number two was my personal favorite, as I find it near impossible to go past anything that has raspberries in it (we even have French raspberry cordial in the chalet!!) It was full and bursting with rich raspberries, the only thing wrong with it was that there should have been 4 times as much!

Number three I was kind of dreading. Not that I have anything against vanilla brulee - but I do have something against the genipi that was floating on top of my crust! Genipi is of the Chartreuse family, a booze which has left me sick for days when I have drunk too much of it back in Oz (let alone almost done something we would regret if Ger hadnt been sober-ish enough to stop it happening!)

But, I girded my loins and dived in. And was surprised! The vanilla creme cut the pungent Genipi with a precision that sushi chefs strived to achieve in their lifetimes. It was herbal, and vanilla-ey and lush.

I washed desert down initially with a glass of Portugese Sherry, and then moved onto a Montbazillac which was poured with a very generous hand!

We stumbled off to Cheyenne for a nitecap, where Ger attracted a very hairy creature who proceeded to hump his leg, so we made our adieus and wandered back to the chalet for an early nite (for a change!)

Fondue in France

Hussyband and I are currently ensconced in Belle-Plagne
View Larger Map in the Rhone Alps, surrounded by chocolate box vistas of snowy mountains and sugar coated trees.

Also the sounds of children screaming....but we avoid those by the time honored tradition of going into a pub. Apres Ski is my sport of choice this holiday, I like my limbs in one piece thank you very much.

But, after a hard afternoon of snowboarding, Hussyband gets hungry. This is aided by the liberal application of happy hour booze. Then of course, we need food to soak up the booze and this led us on a fondue adventure of epic proportions. Not that we had far to go mind you, just the serving was fricking HUGE.

BestManMatt booked a table for the 3 of us at Bistro de la Cloche, a lovelly little place across from the pub we were funding. Everywhere up here seems to serve the same sort of fare, with little variation except for the prices.

We ordered the 3 cheese fondue with all the trimmings - jambon, salamis, sausages, frittes and salad. I cannot begin to say how awesome and cheesey this was....and then about halfway through the richness kicked in, and my feeding frenzy started to wane...I turned to the salad and pickled onions and cornichons between bites, but even that wasnt enough to stop the balloon that was growing in my belly.

We couldnt finish it. It was amazing, delicious, rich, gooey and did I mention rich? We stumbled back up the hill to our chalet and collapsed on lounges in a food coma that can only be likened to drinking way too much booze. But we hadnt, not really.

Consider that we ARE at 2000mtrs above sea level, that the air is thin, and one glass of booze is the equivalent to 2 back at normal level....would I do it again? Not this trip! I am now also avoiding raclette - there is only so much melted cheese one can eat in a week (and this is coming from me!)....but I do have a lovely stash of cheese in the fridge for cocktail hour and it will be consumed with gay abandon and rivers of red wine.