The Normandy Chronicles: Day Four: La Cour Sainte Catherine & Gushing Fire Hydrants
You know, I really don't want all of you to have a bad impression of the little town of Honfleur. A town with that name just can't be all that bad. So yes, we ate a mediocre dinner while watching a drunk man perform with his pet suitcase. But while we watched this show, we had the pleasure of anonymous camaraderie with the two German ladies at the table next to us.
And yes, we stayed in a B&B where the bed sheets frightened us but not as much as the painting of a car junk yard above our heads. And yes, I had to crawl along the floor and under furniture and finally stick my hand into a black hole in search of an electrical outlet for my Mac. (I felt many strange things while prodding that hole, but nothing at all felt like an electrical outlet.)
But the view of Honfleur from our bathtub in this strange B&B was amazing. I sat there for a while, putting off my descent into the terrors of my impending B&B breakfast-with-strangers. I used all the natural flower-based shampoos and soaps and conditioners and stole them, also too. And breakfast wasn't bad at all. I joined a decrepit little couple at the table and dove for the tea pot each time the sweet little old lady tried to pour her husband more tea, with her gnarled hands shaking from the weight of it all. A black cat cuddled on the couch nearby and the proprietor, in his strange Sherlock Holmes garb (coupled with his dominatrix wife, I had many unwanted images creep into my perverted brain), only looked in on us when we absolutely needed him. (Thank the Holy Unicorn. I just couldn't look him in the eye.)I'd stay there again, if I didn't know better and if I didn't have Galadriel leading me around by the nose the next morning, to see much better B&Bs in the same town.
As I've said before, I rarely know what Galadriel's agenda is. After all, she's the Elven Queen and only fools would question her intentions. Instead, when she said she was looking for a coffee shop, I figured it was time for a coffee (hopefully served by somebody in a milk maiden's costume because Sherlock and his leather-n-chains wife had scared me), and followed her down a romantic passage, shaded by trees and draped in vines and roses.La Cour Sainte Catherine is a beautiful B&B, formerly a 17th century convent, then turned into a cider house and now owned by the Giaglis, a friendly couple who spoke English and who showed us their clean and serene rooms. They eventually served us coffee in their cozy breakfast room with stone walls and comfortable leather chairs in front of a giant fireplace. They also own the coffee shop that fronts the street outside their hidden B&B. Check out their website to see more pictures of the building and the rooms.
And as you've probably already gathered, life on the French B&B inspection tour is more about where we will eat lunch and dinner than anything else. And Galadriel had been trying to get to a certain restaurant since we began this tour. She'd heard about it, but had never eaten there. We'd tried to go the first night we arrived in Normandy, calling the friendly hostess and putting off our dinner reservation a few times while trying to find a place to stay. By the time we found a place, it was too late. Now, we'd be eating lunch there and I was dribbling a bit on my chin in anticipation.
We arrived at Le Garde Manger (15 Place Charles de Gaulle 76400 Fécamp, France 02 35 29 36 39) in the town of Fécamp at the very last second, just before they were about to stop serving lunch. Pas grave! The hostess, Julia, greeted us warmly (it was like she was one of the girls since Galadriel had been talking to her on the phone so many times to make, and then break, reservations) and we sat outside on their nice wooden deck, looking out on the town square.The food was delicious. The wine superb. All organic. I took some food porn pics of our appetizers, but got a bit distracted after that because of the arrival of Men In Boots. With crowbars.
They looked at us, knowingly. We looked back, unknowingly. One guy and his boots sauntered over to a fire hydrant right in front of us and with a big metal ring (crowring?) he cranked the hydrant open. Water gushed out onto the sidewalk and started a small river down the street. The noise was deafening. It was like sitting at a nice little table with crystal glasses and fresh-grilled trout on porcelain plates, candelabras, the whole works - right at the base of Niagara Falls. Good thing that wooden deck was on stilts or our bootless feet would have been six inches under water.I don't think this was all. I think the trash truck came and parked right in front and ground up the entire town's stinky bits. And somebody with an SUV parked in front and left their engine running so we could have the pleasure of inhaling exhaust with our smoked salmon. Then I think some little kid in combat fatigues wasn't content with using the sidewalk and climbed the railing onto one side of our deck and then climbed the railing on the other side to get back to the sidewalk. His parents looked on, glowingly, as if to say, "Aww. Isn't that just adorable?"
Note to self: Eat inside next time. Since inside looks like this:
Inside or out, the food and wine were great. Julia was hilarious, yet appropriately respectful, as you can see here, when she finally discovers that Galadriel is the true Queen of the Elves.
