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Published: April 7th 2009
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In honour of half of L-Daddy's family being born between March 30th and April 2nd, the entire clan gathered at a countryside guesthouse in Normandy for a three-in-one celebration. Under grey skies we gathered at the Grange St. Leger
, an old restored and immaculately decorated barn where owners Mary and Denis Roussel welcome guests as members of their own family. If the weather was disappointing, our hearts were warmed and our moods brightened by their quaint rooms, fireside lounge and easy chit-chat about the history of the area, the names of their animals and the stories of their five children who mingled with us as they helped their parents entertain and serve our large party.
Though we could have spent an entire afternoon melting our souls with delicious local cider and good conversation, we had a birthday feast for which to work up our appetites. Once all the latecomers had arrived, we reluctantly pushed ourselves out of our cozy armchairs and couches to don our coats for a sightseeing trip to the town of Honfleur. Fittingly, the place from which Samuel de Champlain sailed on his first voyage to the Americas reminded me of the Old Port of Montreal Neon Lights
Tacky in Trouville with its cafes and crêperies overlooking the bay, even a horse-drawn calèche awaited tourists to bump them through the old cobblestone streets. I could easily have spent my afternoon on a heated terrace looking out towards "home" and writing postcards that would travel the same route as Champlain did 400 years ago (albeit by air rather than by ship); but with kids in tow we spent our time riding the merry-go-round, eating ice cream and waffles and hastily visiting the old church while Baby-L did his best to invoke the ire of God (or at least other visitors to the church).
Finally, starving and chilled, and having whittled away the necessary hours before dinner we abandoned our pretense of tourism and rode back to the Grange in anticipation of the Normandine feast being prepared (exceptionally) by our hosts. We eased back into our chairs and began with Kir Normand (Kirsch with Normandie apple cider) aperitifs, which radiated heat from our tummies to our fingertips. A short migration to the warmly lit dining room kicked off our dinner - "tourte" (meat pie) and fresh crisp salad, braised duck, carrot puree and home-grown mashed potatoes followed by creamy locally produced cheeses
Trouville
With casino behind spread over slices of crusty brown bread and three different birthday cakes; the whole of this accompanied by tasty red wine, shots of "Trou Normand" (translated as the hole of Normandie...) and Champagne to finish. Loud conversation and festivity filled the air and a young DJ inspired us to dance to a mix of tango, '80s dance music and French classics after we had swaggered away from the table, clutching our full bellies with satisfied smiles.
The next morning we rallied once again over fresh baguettes, croissants, tasty jams and endless cups of freshly brewed coffee. I snuck away briefly to both atone for my overindulgence the night before and explore the pristine landscape hiding under the cover of fog with a brisk walk and was rewarded by an encounter with some farmers who directed me on a stunning path away from the road. Back at the guesthouse Juju, L-Daddy and other guests remained enthralled by Mary's rundown of how they turned an abandoned carcass of a barn into the charming home we had enjoyed.
After dallying long past the official check-out time, we bade our hosts farewell and programmed our GPS computers for the next destination
The Cures
Old Trouville sanitarium (now a casino) - Omaha Beach. We had promised Baby-L that we were going to the beach, but Omaha beach, despite its white sand and clear blue water was not what we had meant. To the dismay of some who preferred to keep the weekend light, we were swayed by L-Granny's desire to visit the war memorials; and in the end it was important that we did.
Walking among over 9,000 white gravestones, we faced a barrage of emotions as our minds transformed the pristine coastline and colourful gardens before us into a tragically bloody battle zone. I often have a hard time recreating historical events in my mind (visits to the Plains of Abraham, even the Pyramids and the Acropolis have always been a bit disappointing because of this), but the cemetery is imbued with an inexplicable and inescapable memory of the D-Day Operations. Perhaps because of the vivid war movies we now produce? Perhaps because it was so recent. Or maybe it is the soldiers lying under foot, who come to life again as you pay silent tribute to their quest. As we surveyed the cliffs I looked out towards Juno beach to remember Canada’s contribution to the effort, as
La Grange St. Leger
One of their adorable rooms well.
Back at the vividly instructive visitor centre we choked back tears and shook our heads with disbelief as we watched video footage of the disembarkation and were reminded of the scale of the sacrifice that was made. For most of us this was a history lesson unlike any we could have received in school; I know that at least I left with a profound sense of gratitude to those who fought so that we could be free to enjoy the excessively pleasant weekend we’d just had.
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Dana
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Hi Em, wonderful story as always ;-) Now Normandy brings memories..visited Rouen and surroundings couple of times with school - did not make it to Honfleur but had a good time at Etretat and Fecamp - similar towns.... Too bad you did not make it to Mont St.Michel - it's spectacular - perhaps next trip? ;-))) It will be great to have to back in the cow-town - Pat and I are in Prague when you come but we are back on the 30th of May - let's meet as soon as we get over the jetlag! :-)