Rouen - Joan of Arc and the discovery of Nutella Crepes

The Idyllic Backyard of our B&B

What can you say? Rouen is a specacular example of medieval township.

It's a catch up day for us. Laundry. Repacking. Orgainizing a car for our next leg of the journey. (We are seriously over trains at this point and would rather drive!!!)

Liam learns to whittle

The day starts as idyllically as the day before. Our early morning bird friends chirp us awake at five, then we nestle in for another few hours of blissful sleep before awaking to a divine breakfast. Our kids up and dressed and playing in the fairytale garden ahead of us.

Breakfast inside in the art studio this morning. Amazing food!

Downtown Rouen

To work off the pastries and custard of breakfast we decide to hike into the downtown of Rouen for lunch. (How do French women stay slim?) As we are staying in Mont St Aignan on the northern edge of the town its all down hill. The kids are pleased with that. After all these weeks of traveling they have become seasoned walkers, and even I am beginning to relax a bit now that I know that they can be trusted to be sensible when it comes to traffic and staying together. You just don't know how the family dynamics are going to go until you've done it. I'm proud of our tribe for settling in to travel mode so flawlessly.









But back to Rouen!

Rouen was once the most prosperous of medieval cities. And with its position straddling the Seine River and surrounded by fertile planes it has had a long history. Begun in Roman times (but not by the Romans) the city has had so many changes of hands it makes the head spin.
There were the Vikings who devastated the area, and most parts of Europe in the 800's ad. Later Rouen became the capital of the Dukes of Normandy until William the Conqueror moved the capital to be closer to his English holdings. Then it was annexed to the French Kingdom, before the start of the very bloody hundred years war (between England and France over the possession of these lands) in the 1300's. In the 1500's there was the War of Religion that polarized the population. There were terror tactics used on both sides - both Calvanists and Catholics - with many a senseless massacre committed "in the name of god". What a terrifying time to live in. Both sides ready to die and kill for their own version of the same religion. I suppose looking back you tend to look through the filter of time and attempt to pass judgement, but alas, it is hard for me to fathom this bloody era in European history.

One of the many lovely shops in downtown Rouen

After much too-ing and fro-ing, Rouen ended up in French (catholic) rule and stayed that way with brief interludes of Prussian and German occupations during the Franco Prussian war and WWII....

So, that is a history of Rouen in one paragraph. I'm sure there is much that I left out, so much to expand upon, but this isn't the place. I wish I knew a bit more of the positive history so as not to bring light to the negative. But the happy days of farming and afternoon picnics with your family hardly ever make the history books, despite the fact that on the whole the days of happiness out weigh the days of gloom.

As we walk past the ancient Cathedral and through the foot-traffic-only streets the little we know about the town explains some of the buildings that we see, and the feel of staunchness that the town exudes. It has been through a whole lot! There are many half timbered houses that still remain in the city which make you feel as though you have been transported back in time. Buildings that are still standing, looking over squares that would once have been grassy and had peasants carrying their wares and nobles riding horses. If only walls could talk. Well, we may not wish to hear all that they would say!

We buy some baguette sandwiches and a couple fizzy drinks and eat in the lovely wide square - Place du Vieux Marche. There are old taverns and a museum to Joan of Arc. After shopping our way around the square and buying some fresh produce for later snacks we decide to check out the Joan of Arc museum.

While Joan of Arc was not born here, this is where she ended her short life. In fact the same square that we so recently had our lovely picnic was the spot that she was burned alive as a heretic in 1431 - at the age of 19.

Inside the wax museum of Joan of Arc - here she is hearing voices from the saints that instruct her in her mission to save France from the English invaders. She went on to defeat the English army in battle, but was later burned for claiming to hear voices.

I've always had a morbid fascination of the "Maid of Orlean" and the museum turned out to be just the place to spend a hot afternoon. It was a wax museum that portrayed her life in various scenes - from the time as a poor illiterate child when she started hearing voices telling her to take charge of France's armies, to her many victorious battles against the English, to her betrayal and eventual burning at the stake by the English. Who knows how much of her story was factual, and how much was used as medieval propaganda in a war that lasted 100 years between the English and the French. But we do know there was a young girl named Joan who lead the armies of the Dauphin of France in a successful military campaign that kickstarted the return of the French to power in the region. The fact that she was just a young girl and one who died for her belief in her visions had the power to capture the minds of the great playwrights and artists - Shakespeare, Voltaire, Mark Twain, Tchaikovsky, George Bernard Shaw to name a few. So if a few embellishments were made along the way, well, who's to say that the modern era has a monopoly on propaganda?

Liam checks out the image of the burning of Joan of Arc

The kids took it all in and as we all emerged from the dark, cool museum blinking in the afternoon heat there were many questions about medieval times and the ideas of religion so strong that one is willing to be burned alive for it. It's a concept that our modern lives don't come across in day to day life. The fact that our ancestors would have believed it and been a part of that type of system is an eye opener. We can applaud just how much progress has been made in the last 500 years.

As we walked out of the square, all but smelling the smoke from the people who burned in the Place du Vieux Marche all those years ago we passed by a small cart selling crepes. And the discovery of the Nutella Crepe happened. Forget history. This made the kid's whole day, week, month, trip.... (well, at least since the last gelato in Italy that is!) Imagine a fresh crepe cooked on a hot plate in front of you, smothered in rich Nutella, rolled up and voila. You eat it as you walk. Smiles galore.

Not a complaint to be had on the walk home, just happy chompers savoring another discovered delight of foreign cuisine. Even when we had to wait at the train station for an hour until the rental car company opened up. The key to happy family traveling is full stomachs - well, in part at least. :)

The look of Bliss when Liana tucks into a desert Crepe!

That night we have a farewell dinner with our lovely friends at another Creperie. Appetizers, main course and desert, all different types of crepes. I love FRANCE!
A wonderful ending to our sojourn in Normandy. Tomorrow we drive from Rouen to the other side of Paris, to visit our friends who live in the not-so-touristy town of Meaux. But first we have to navigate our way there! It should be an adventure!

Goodbye to our wonderful friends, Roland and Francois! You hold a dear place in our hearts. 

A Tootle Around Normandy

What better way to awaken than with the birds!

Quite literally in our case. Our cozy little room on the third floor of the old Norman house that we are staying in is covered in vines. And as the sun rose so did our fine feathered neighbors who chirped away about the beauty of the new day. Randall and I snuggled back under the duvet with smiles on our faces and went back to sleep for another couple hours. (The sunrise is about 5am.)

When we do pull ourselves out of bed the birds are all off about their business and the lovely lady who runs the b&b has breakfast laid out on the patio. Looking down from our window there is a happy little red head singing away waiting for us to join her. Clara has always been our morning girl!









After eating the amazing home made pastries, fresh fruit, yogurt and coffee we are off again to take a tour of the region with our hosts. The day is brilliant. Blue skies and perfect pastoral vistas.

Inside St. George of Boscherville Abbey

We visit several abbeys along the way.

St. George of Boscherville Abbey- a perfect example of Norman workmanship. Light and airy, with beautiful gardens overlooking the Seine Valley; it sets the soul to the devine. Started in the 1200's it stands still as one of the finest Romanesque churches in Normandy.

What is left of the learning center that was Jumiege Abbeye

Then there was Jumiege Abbeye - or what remains of it. The abbey's history runs back to the 600's when it was a center of learning and had 1000 monks living and praying within it's walls. It sustained a high profile in the realm of the spirituality and being the model for all other abbeys of the area for many a century. But not everything lasts. It suffered with the invasion of the English. And the war of religion and the Huguenots. Until it was finally burned and sacked during the French revolution. The shell of the monastery still remains for all to see. Still inspiring thoughts of god, despite the derelict nature of it's remnants.

We had the perfect picnic in the forests above the Abbey of St Wandrille. The kids were as pleased as could be, and again the food was sublime. Francoise taught the girls how to whistle using a blade of grass and the boys explored the rich woods. Meanwhile I stuffed myself with the fresh bread and amazing dressing Francois has supplied us with. So like me.

The Abbey of St. Wandrille is a wonderful mixture of ruined Norman Abbey, current monastery and of wooden church. Again started in the 600's the church was sacked and ruined and rebuilt many times over the years. We were very quiet while walking through the grounds as this is still a working monastery with many monks taking a vow of silence.
Going past the ruins of the giant stone monastery that was sacked during the French revolution, you come across two smaller chapels made of wood. This comes from the ancient days when the buildings were put together using only the wood - metal was a precious commodity. In fact one of these buildings was once a royal stable and was dismantled and brought across part of Normandy by the monks to become their new chapel and it is still here today. Pretty clever, I'll say! Lucky for us one of the monks was practicing his organ playing and the entire chapel reverberated with the haunting strains of the organ. Clara took the time to pray and Juliet felt the need to dance. It is humbling to be in the presence of such faith.

inside the all wood chapel of St. Wadrille

On the grounds of the Abbey of St. Wandrille

Ruined Abbey of St. Wandrille

Everything is idyllic, but with all the contentedness I feel I am still searching for what makes Normandy different; a place all its own.
You cannot help but feel the contrast here from the other places we've traveled in, however I can't quite put my finger on it. It's peaceful — in a watchful sort of way. Probably because there has been such strife here. Armies and leaders - coming and going. But the land is still restful despite the blood spilled here. Maybe it's a good testament to the common people. Life goes on, despite the crazy politics of any time...

We end our day in a tiny resort town called Veules-les-Roses, on the French coast facing onto the English channel. It is resort village and as we walk past the ancient water wheels it feels so restful. Many of the buildings are built in the traditional way with thatched roofs. Oh so very, very charming. The kids run ferrel on the grassy hillside and we end up on the stony beach to have a cup of tea before heading back into Rouen.

Thatched roofs in the town of Veules-les-Roses

The whole idyl was marred only slightly by Juliet throwing a stone and very nearly blinding Clara (on accident of course). A bloody towel later Clara's fine, with only a gashed eyebrow to show for Mum and Dad's shattered nerves. Thank goodness we don't have to decamp to the hospital. Ahhh, the joys of traveling with kids.

On the beach of Veules-les-Roses

What a lovely part of the world, with lots and lots of history. It has a very permanent feel to it, but not old fashioned. So much life has happened here that it just seems right that life will always continue here. I'm so glad we had the chance to enjoy it with our lovely host family.

And to enjoy another night in our bird house perch. I can't wait to go to bed so that I can wake up with the birds again!

Bon nuit mes amies!