Front row seats for a real horse show royale
fair to say, had occupied my mind more than once in the weeks leading up to our trip. But with plenty to keep me occupied there was no time to be nervous next day as we settled in for the two-hour drive to central Normandy.
In fact, I became so confident so quickly driving on the right that I even ditched the sat nav and before you could say ‘sacre bleu’ we had arrived at our lodgings for the next three nights. Belle Vallée is a beautiful guesthouse set in 18 acres of private grounds beside the medieval town of Domfront, situated within the Normandie-Maine National Park.
Belle Vallée’s charming owners, Richard and Victoria, had kindly put us up in the twofloor gite for our stay, which gave us a real sense of independence and a perfect base to go and explore the region.
So after a sumptuous dinner and possibly the most comfortable sleep of our lives (like being welcomed into the arms of an angel, according to mammy) we awoke refreshed and went for a mid-morning stroll in Domfront. After coffee and croissants, and a quick chat with a Womble (it’s a long story), it was off to Falaise Castle, the birthplace of William the Conqueror, the first Norman king of England whose exploits at the Battle of Hastings are chronicled in the Bayeux Tapestry. He also had a fair bit to say in things round these parts and beyond.
As we strolled through Falaise’s historic centre, the castle appeared in all its magnificent glory. Once we went inside, we were handed mini-tablets with an interactive guide which, when pointed at a specific area of each room, showed you what the room would have looked like ten centuries ago. It gave the boys a much greater understanding of what the castle had been like rather than just them seeing what was in front of them.
As the castle looms imposingly over the town, I was duty-bound to head up the tower and catch the breathtaking view. Although the castle is the centrepiece of the town, the Battle of Falaise in World War 2 is renowned for its ferocity and ultimately paved the way for the liberation of Paris. Looking out at the peaceful countryside, it was hard to imagine the raging, bloody battles that took place over 70 years ago. But happen they did and Normandy, quite rightly, rarely allows you to forget that.
Next day it was time to saddle up and visit la Ferme du Cheval de Trait in Juvigny-sous-Andaine. Just 20 minutes drive from Domfront, the farm – La Michaudiere – was once a pear orchard but has been transformed by its owner Jean Dinard into what is effectively a wonderful slice of authentic rural Normandy life.
After a stroll around the quirky gardens, it was time for a typical Normandy lunch in a converted barn. Beef, potatoes, Camembert cheese with lashings of cider and some traditional calvados (apple brandy). Stuffed to the gills, we somehow managed to rouse ourselves and walk outside to the horse show. Monsieur Dinard and his family have made it their mission to preserve and utilise the traditional French workhorse known as the Percheron. These horses form the centrepiece of the show, along with an English Shirehorse, ponies and donkeys.
Having bagged front row seats, it was quite something to hear and feel the thunderous gallops of these magnificent beasts as they charged across the field at full speed. The smaller animals provided a touch of humour but before you think ‘circus’ be reassured that it’s as far away from that as you can get. The Dinard family have a true love for their horses which is evident in the way they handle everything.
Waking up to another beautiful dawn in Belle Vallée, we said our goodbyes to Victoria and Richard and it was back on the road as we headed northwest to the Cotentin peninsula.
AFTER a pleasant twohour trip, we checked into our holiday home, La Villa des Isles, in the beautiful seaside resort of Barneville-Carteret and upon discovering that the beach was only 200 yards up the road from us there was only one thing for it. Getting the sandals out (and not forgetting to take the socks off), we hit the long, sandy beach where we marvelled at the view of Jersey. And if you’re the kind of person who does leave your socks on, the evening’s spectacular sunset over the Channel Islands would knock them off anyway.
Having told the boys all about Normandy’s vital association with World War 2, there was plenty of excitement next day as we trundled off to Bayeux to see the Museum of the Battle of Normandy. Leaving the famous tapestry for another time, we parked at the museum beside a tank, as you do, and took the short stroll to the town centre to see the famous cathe
After a delicious lunch consisting of galettes (a typical French pancake) and even more galettes, it was museum time. If you have any interest in World War 2 this place is a must. The vivid exhibits of weapons, uniforms, armoured vehicles and assorted memorabilia, along with their audio and video enhancements, paint a comprensive picture of the events that led to the end of the war. We could have stayed there until closing time but Omaha Beach was nearby so it was back to the car for the short drive.
The boys were quietly impressed by the museum and, having told them we were going to see where some of the landings they’d been reading about took place, I put on my worthy parent cap and explained that there was to be no messing on the beach and we had to be respect ful. But for youngsters a beach is, and should always be, somewhere to play and have fun.
And as they dashed across the sand, roaring and chasing each other with not a care in the world, it hit home that this sense of freedom is exactly why the landings hap pened. These historic beaches can be a place for reflection and grati, tude and also a place for fun.
The French may be renowned for their high-speed train system but in this part of Normandy you can
treat yourself to the ‘Train Touris- tique’ which we did the next day. Tickets were bought and we slowly but surely made our way from Carteret to nearby Port Bail.
The beautifully restored train carriages were first used in World War 1 and are pulled along by a diesel locomotive which we were allowed to clamber on board for part of the journey. Time stands still, quite literally, as the controller had to hop off to halt any traffic every time we came to a road junction. We had time for lunch in Port Bail and then it was back to Carteret for a scenic walk to cap off a wonderful day.
THERE was still time for one more trip the next day and if you like saving the best until last then the magnificent Mont-Saint-Michel is certainly one way to do it. From its humble origins sometime around the start of the eighth century, the abbey is a symbol of national identity for the French and has been a World Heritage Site since 1979.
Mont-Saint Michel is situated on a rocky outcrop that rises out of the bay so you can just walk from the car park along the road, take a horse and cart, or the shuttle bus, as we did. If you’re feeling adventurous it’s possible, depending on tides, to walk across the bay with a tour guide. There are plenty of step as you climb up to the abbey but you can always stop for a rest and admire the spectacular views across the bay to Brittany.
It’s human nature to overexaggerate things but Mont-Saint-Michel is not known as ‘La Merveille (the marvel) for nothing. The architec- ture is stunning and there is an other-worldly sense about it all. It’s also well worth taking a guided tour as you can appreciate the abbey’s history in much greater detail.
After leaving our holiday home next morning, we had a few hours in Cherbourg before the ferry back to Rosslare, so a visit to La Cité de la Mar to discover the port’s maritime history was a no-brainer.
Housing an impressive aquarium and Titanic exhibit (Cherbourg was a boarding point for 274 people on that fateful voyage), the piece de resistance for this particular Cold War history buff was ‘Le Redoutable’, a decommissioned nuclearpowered submarine in dry dock that you can board and take a tour.
You need to mind your head though the vessel is roomier than you’d think which is something you appreciate when you’re chasing ‘commies’ through the ocean.
There was still time for a bit of a drama thanks to a flat car battery due to excessive use of the phone charger – both parents were fined a few euro each for that one – but, having been reassured by the kind lady from Irish Ferries that we could get towed on board, the man from the AA turned up to give us a jump start and it was time to go home. There was hardly a ripple on the sea this time so we relaxed in the bar while the boys went to the play area. It beats a noisy and cramped plane any day of the week.
Next morning as we drove back to Dublin, there were already enquiries about when we were going back to France. But for now there was just one thing to keep reminding myself of: ‘Keep on the left, keep on the left…’