Bonjour from Le Havre

The weather has changed at last. As soon as we left Lisbon the weather closed in and became cooler and quite windy. For the first time since leaving Sydney we were back in winter clothes.

In the morning when we docked in Le Havre, which is at the mouth of the River Seine, it was overcast and threatening to rain. Many passengers had booked tours to Paris or Rouen, but we decided to wing it as usual as there were some nice places closer to port to explore.

Having inspected all the options on shore, we settled on a tour to Honfleur which took in Deauville and Trouville as well. A group of small Italians were interested, too, so we agreed to share an 8 seater van and off we went.

By then the rain had set in but the countryside was pretty with hedgerows and colourful wildflowers all along the roadside. I was surprised to see houses built in the Tudor style. I hadn't realised that style was used across the Channel, too.

We were entertained by the chatter in Itenglish coming from the back seat. The two Italian wives kept up a continuous stream of rapid conversation and swapped from English to Italian and back several times in each sentence. It was quite funny to listen to.

The other funny thing we learned is that one of the Italian couples live in Miranda.

We arrived in Deauville after half an hour or so. It is a rather dated resort town but is just as smart as I imagined it would be. I've read books in which the fashionable characters holiday in Deauville in luxurious rented villas. The villas are still there along with a huge casino and several large hotels and holiday apartment blocks.

In the rain, however, it all looked rather forlorn. We walked down to the beach. Orderly rows and rows of furled beach umbrellas, as far as the eye could see, stood in mute testimony to the weather. Only one group of holiday makers were on the beach. They'd optimistically spread a picnic rug on the sand and were sitting, miserably hunched over against the wind and rain, to eat their lunch.

Next door is Trouville. It's quite attractive, too, but we pressed on towards Honfleur, passing through an appealing little town which was decorated with flowering plants and a huge dose of quaintness.

But quaintness was in evidence everywhere in Honfleur. It's an ancient fishing village with a boat harbour that looks as though it's been taken straight off a chocolate box lid. Every cobbled street and every crooked building has an OOH factor of 10.

We had a couple of hours to fritter away so we set off for the market. I saw some beautiful woollen jumpers and was tempted to buy one until I saw the price. Eu300!!

"Merci, M'sieu, mais non merci!"

A little further on were some good looking leather(?) shoes for Eu10. Foiled again. The only pair in my size were straight from Daggsville so no sale. Patricia was luckier and found a nice red pair.

We were luckier for lunch. A table under an awning became free as we approached so we grabbed it, glad to be out of the rain. The view of the boat harbour was an added bonus. We lunched on cheese and crusty rolls washed down with local beer. Tres bon!

There was time to have a look at the ancient church. It was hundreds of years old and built entirely of timber that was almost black with age. The floor was of flagstones that were worn smooth over the ages. Fascinating!

On the other side of the square was a building that belonged to the church and on one end was a toilet block. It, too, dated from medieval times, I'm sure. Still, when needs must…

After that ordeal we wandered through the streets admiring the window displays in the shops. Many shops had been turned into galleries with paintings and other objets d'art displayed. There were a couple of paintings I could happily have bought but for the price tag. Everything in Europe seems expensive especially after the places we've visited earlier so we didn't buy anything.

Regretfully, we said goodbye to beautiful Honfleur and set off homewards. By then the rain was falling only intermittently but the traffic was increasing. Before getting to Le Havre we had to cross the Seine via the Normandy Bridge. It's an impressive structure which resembles the Anzac Bridge and which our driver told us is the longest suspension bridge in Europe.

We crawled along for miles, starting to become anxious as time was passing as we didn't want to miss the ship. Extra time in France is appealing but not if you have no luggage, passports or money!

As we got closer, we could see streams of traffic ahead but at least that travelling in the same direction as us was moving, albeit slowly. The traffic coming towards us, however, was stationary and stretched for miles and miles. It took us about 25 minutes to drive past the queue. Thankful not be stuck in it, we were back in time and so, like Ping, were glad to avoid being last on board.

Tomorrow, Dover.