We set the alarm clock early, but we didn't actually get up early. Maybe it was because the volume of the alarm radio never rose above a whisper. Or maybe it was because since we had arrived in Paris we had been so tired and had indulged in full nights of sleep. Or maybe we were just lazy. Regardless, we didn't get up early and as a result, missed the Saturday markets in Normandy. Fortunately, there was more to see.We took the metro out of Paris to Rueil-Malmaison to pick up the car Geoff had reserved. When we got to Avis, I decided to try an experiment. I wanted to see if we could complete a complex transaction like renting a car without 'cheating' in English. We managed to give the man working there our licenses when asked and to do the paperwork properly, so he then gave us the keys and directions to the car, of which I caught "gauche" (left) "cinquante metres" (50 meters) and "trios bas" (three of something). We weren't sure how these would come together, but we decided to give it a shot. We walked in the direction he had pointed and looked towards the left for signs of our car. Geoff spotted a parking garage for the train station and since it was on the left, we figured, why not? So we went up a few flights of stairs and saw that we were at deux bas - quite promising. At trios bas, we hit the car clicker and located our car - success! We were quite proud of ourselves, until, of course, we actually got in the car and realized we had no idea where we were going.
Over the years, Geoff and I have developed the best system for these trips: me driving and Geoff navigating. It caused the least arguments and the least accidents. This trip Geoff had brought his GPS which he connected to his laptop and proceeded to navigate us directly to the highway with few problems.
The French maintain their highways well. In fact, they all seem relatively new. They have the same type of rest-stops with gas and food-marts, except according to Geoff the espresso from the machines puts the U.S. to shame. Gas costs about 1.30 euros per liter (about $7 a gallon). But most of the cars are smaller and more fuel efficient. Our car this time took diesel which is prevalent. The tolls are startlingly high - on this trip we passed through a 6 euro toll and several smaller ones. Mappy.com had listed it would cost about 30-40 euros for the three hour trip including tolls and gas.
We arrived in Normandy and drove directly to Livarot, a charming little town, similar in style to other small French villages. We knew we should probably not waste too much time and go directly to lunch since it was already nearing 2 pm and many places would be closed. At first, we thought to pick a random place in Livarot but it looked touristy (the English menu gives it away every time) and we thought we should seek out something more interesting. So I looked up restaurants in the French Michelin guide and found a place in the nearby town, Vimoultiers. One problem: we definitely wouldn't arrive until after 2 which meant they might be closed. So, I took a few deep breaths and gathered the courage to call and ask in French if they were still open for lunch. Luckily we got our reward.
Part of a small bed and breakfast, L'Escale du Vitou's dining room had panoramic windows that looked onto the surrounding hillsides. The only people still eating when we arrived were some of the chef''s family. We decided to order the full menu which included a choice of appetizers, main courses, a cheese course and dessert. We also requested a bottle of the house cider which was a specialty of the area. The cider arrived and filled our mouths with wonderful bubbly apple sweetness. We then enjoyed a rustic meal with some flair and fresh local ingredients. After our four course lunch, we were quite stuffed. But of course we had to try the Calvados, an apple liquor special to the area. The waiter poured from this enormous bottle of the 15-year old Calvados and set it on the table. That's when we (ok, I) got a little picture happy. Our last day in NY, we had purchased a new digital camera, the Canon 10D, and were still learning how to use it best. After taking about 10 pictures of Geoff and the Calvados and Geoff begging me to put the camera away, we seemed to have caught the attention of our waiter and given him an idea. He came and asked if he could take a picture of us for the restaurant's website. Of course, we agreed.
After that we decided to visit the Camembert Museum in Livarot, which we had passed earlier. It was as kitschy as you might expect a small-town museum about cheese to be. It was one room subdivided into several 'scenes' - for example, one featured all the products (cans, little benches) used to milk the cows and another contained examples of the racks and containers used to age the cheese. Several of the scenes contained life-size milkmaids, which were actually a bit creepy. Each scene had an audio component which was projected through the tiny museum in English for our benefit. This didn't interfere with non-English speaking visitors, because there were no other visitors. What we learned at this informative museum was that the real Camembert from the region must follow strict rules of creation and was only ripe for about 10 days. Anytime before or after those 10 days, it would be under or overripe. Although there were over 400 producers of Camembert in the world, only two had the official French seal and could only be obtained ripe in France. Not surprisingly, we left determined to find this official Camembert and eat it as soon as possible.
Once we left, Geoff took over the task of driving, so I was assigned the job of deciding where next. I picked the northern coastal town of Honfleur because it got two stars in the Michelin guide, which I thought deemed it worth a detour. We arrived and found a charming, but crowded and touristy little town. It felt more like Newport, RI in the height of summer than France. The water reflected the rows of thin colored row houses and the narrow cobblestone streets sheltered dozens of little restaurants and cafés. I had picked out a hotel, but when we located it, a sign informed us that they were 'complet.' After that we walked from hotel to hotel without a room to be found. Finally, we walked back to a characterless hotel on the edge of the town that Geoff had initially suggested. Also full, but a woman working there suggested a chateau outside of town and called to confirm availability - two rooms left.
Now dark, we thought we'd never find the place but amazingly it turned out to be on Geoff's GPS. We drove into the driveway to find an old mansion which was quite nice. Once inside, I could sense the faded grandeur. Unfortunately there was now only one room left, and it was in the other building. We went to see it. This teeny room apparently was for a family of six which is what caused the price to be 108 euros despite the fact that it was pretty lousy - low ceilings, worn carpet, and indeterminate cleanliness. Now about 9 pm, the alternates weren't much better - driving 3 hours back to Paris, sleeping in the car, or continuing to look. So reluctantly we booked the room. I would sleep there but first, I'd need a few glasses of wine.
So we went back to Honfleur and frustrated ourselves trying to find a small dinner but by that time most of the restaurants were closed. We were feeling a bit down after all the effort we had put in this evening for not so hot results. Finally, we sat at a café and I had some chicken and a half bottle of wine. The café looked out over the waterfront where some people dressed in Amish looking clothes (apparently some traditional Honfleur attire) had begun a ring of dancing. Dozens of people of all nationalities joined in. I wanted to enjoy the moment of watching them dance. It was so strange to me that at any given moment there were so many people happy and so many sad. Some were getting great news and others facing great sorrow, and most were just living their lives without thinking. Our evening had been frustrating, but I wanted to keep it in perspective. What was one night's sleep in the course of a lifetime, really?
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