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Travel StoriesA Holiday In Normandy
Finally To The Gite
Ride Date 20 June 2026
By Ren Withnell
The French have shutters, we have curtains. Shutters are actually a very good idea. Firstly when closed and secured they make a property much more secure. Secondly they help with temperature control. Keep them closed in summer and they keep the heat out far better than curtains - the radiation has already entered the room with curtains, shutters stop the radiation before it gets in. In winter they can be opened to let the sun warm a room, then closed to retain the heat in the room and reduce drafts.
If you see shutters in Blighty it's a sign the area is dodgy or you have some very valuable things in your house.
Dinky French cups - I need a decent sized brew in the morning. Pfffft.
With the shutters down this bedroom is really very dark. I feel rested and comfortable yet I'm awake so I get up and make a brew. It's around 0800 as the rest of the team start to rise then we slowly pack away. We depart at the allotted 1000 time, leaving the keys where we found them in the kitchen.
I seem to recall asking sat-nav to route us down via the coast - I'd like to say it's being rude and ignoring me but it's more likely I'm an ass that doesn't know how to operate it. Not to worry - I'm glad because it's lovely. This is farmland, mostly arable with golden cereal crops, deep green root crops, and the occasional bales of hay for the moo-cows. The hills fold and bulge into each other, the trees interrupt views, and there's nary another vehicle upon our route.
The only consternation is the persistent interruption of little French towns. Half a mile, down to 50kmh, then 30, then 50, then back to 80kmh. Another 2 miles, repeat. Another mile, repeat. There really is a lot of countryside in France but there's also a lot of tiny little villages with speed limits, you can't maintain rapid progress.
You'll see a lot of this...
...and a lot of this.
The D901 is a larger road with a little more progress, even so every handful of miles there's a "70" sign for nothing more dangerous than a seemingly disused side road, along with the regular small villages and towns. We are just cruising while adjusting to the odd signage, the peculiar vagaries of French speed limit signs, and still trying to suss out where and when it's "priorite a droit".
I get myself separated from Sharon on her bike and Meg in the car as we get closer to Berck (berk, beee-arrrk baaark?). We're into town along with multiple lanes and bewildering roundabouts. Sharon has sat-nav and so does Meg, and we have the same destination programmed in. There's much more traffic here and I can't find anywhere to stop and wait safely. Long story short - by hook and by miracle, and after me getting lost (no-one else does) we're parking up at "Sophie Lebreuilly", a cafe/patisserie.
It's modern, this ain't your crumbling old quiet patisserie in the village square. And still the staff are friendly, the food looks good in the clean cabinets, and there's a space to sit outside. Sharon and I share a spicy chicken baguette, Meg and Stan do the same but with extras. Spicy chicken is hardly traditional French cuisine but it's tasty. The sun is starting to warm the day grandly, perhaps just a tad too grandly.
Back on the roads and out of the town we're into the arable lands once more, this time it's somewhat flatter leading to larger fields. The sun is warm and save for the odd hip ache the miles seem to be passing easily enough. There's trees aplenty and crops of all kinds, a few areas closer to the sea seem less fertile with hardy grasses and dense bushes, I suspect this is a floodland at times.
We skirt around the hinterland of Ault, a place where Sharon and I had a less than wonderful experience, then around the back of Le Treport and finally to Mesnil Val Plage where I pull in at a viewpoint. We stop, we stretch, we drink a good amount of the water we have with us, and we have a look.
Time for a stretch, a look and a chat.
We follow the coast to Dieppe then turn south and inland, following the main N27 but not actually on it, I have sat-nav set to avoid tolls and motorways. We are now in vast open farmland stretching as far as the eye can see. Trees and wind turbines are the only tall things here save for the omnipresent villages, thankfully these are better spaced.
By the time we reach our next stop the sun is baking the land around Saint-Paër. The tabac is open, smart, clean and a little cooler inside. This particular tabac is a local shop come cafe come restaurant come bar. The word "tabac" can mean anything from a tiny shop selling cigarettes and the odd tin of cassoulet right through to, well, this but maybe larger. They can be dark and dank and filled with old French men smoking illegally right through to - again - this.
Within there's a friendly lady behind the bar and a couple of local working chaps taking a break from the heat. €3 for a bottle of pop? Ouch but yeah OK. Make a note of that price dear readers, it may have relevance later in this tale. We're only 41km from the gite, what's that about 25 miles?
Despite the variance in what a tabac is I like these places, they seem quintessentially French. I suppose we don't really have anything quite like this in the UK whereas here they're omnipresent albeit in a huge variety of configurations and styles.
We cross the River Seine via the Pont de Brotonne. I know it's not the huge Pont De Normadie nevertheless it's still a big bridge, and this one is toll free even for cars. There follows a lot of trees (Brotonne Forest), some narrow lanes, a couple of remarkably unnecessarily complicated barely painted little junctions - and we are here!!
Well, at least I think we are here. This is the right place but I'm not sure if I have the right entrance. Sharon calls Beth who is already here, she's heard our engines pass by. Wrong entrance - plonker. About turn - and we are here!! Again.
This'll do nicely. There's a pool shared with the owners and another smaller gite. There's 3 bedrooms, one for Sharon and I, one for Meg and Stan, Beth and Dave have already grabbed the downstairs room along with Luke. There's a large living room and a huge kitchen area. It's all wooden beams and tiled floors, modern and old. I'd suggest it was a barn now converted.
Our digs for the next week. Bit bigger than the tent.
It has that French feel too - there but not quite as perfect as we stuck up snobby brits might expect. There's a shower and a loo in our room but the shower looks like it was extracted from a campervan and stood on the plinth with just an old wooden folding screen for modesty, not a separate room. The furniture looks like it was bought from various car boot sales as required. It's odd, eclectic and somewhat haphazard.
Not a problem, we're all adults here (except Luke and he's too young to care). The shower works, the bath downstairs works, the toilets work, the kitchen works, we've all got plenty of space, the weather is lovely, we're right in the countryside, it's all good. There's a kettle too so I make a brew. We are here, we are all safe and sound and it's all good.
It's warm this evening. The pool is allegedly heated but anyone who's ever stepped into a pool knows it does not FEEL warm. Feet in - "Oooooh!" Knees in - "Ooooheee!" Waist in - "Eeeee!" Chest in - "Hoho-ooooh-eoooee!" Once you're in it's fine, in fact it's lovely to be nice and cool. It's not a huge pool but there's enough room to swim a little, splash around and enjoy the relaxing sensation of floating.
The pool to keep cool.
Beth and Dave have been shopping and now Stan is on the barbie - Burgers and sausages go down my gullet as the sun loses it's intensity behind the trees. I'm pondering some thoughts. I'm comfortable, I've been fed and watered, there's a proper bed tonight, it's all terribly comfortable and easy. Too easy? Certainly 10 years ago I'd have said yes but these days? Where's the challenge, where's the difficulty? Sod that, I'm going to enjoy myself. Sorry, not sorry.
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A Holiday In Normandy - Prologue
France! Well northern France because our soft arsed lazy writers can't be bothered to go any further. It's time for excuses and explanations as to why The Dynamic Muppets are off on holiday and not an exciting expedition.
Bedfordshire Is Not In France
And they're off to France! Well Bedfordshire today, but they will get to France eventually... hopefully... maybe?
Struggling Into France
It's time to go to France, alas there's far too much time to go to France. Ren is early, the trains are late, it's hot, and it's disorganised. Oh and Sharon's life flashes before her eyes - or was it a Transit van?
Finally To The Gite
It's a much less stressful day's ride today. Good weather, a sensible mileage to cover, and no reason to rush. Fear not Ren will find a few things to gripe about.
Reader's Comments
ROD¹ said :-
The priorite a droit works as follows:
In larger villages they have signs showing a diagonal crossroads, this shows the vehicles emerging from your right have priority.
In smaller villages you need to look for solid white lines at the junctions. If there is a solid white line at an emerging road they have to stop. If a solid white line is not painted at the junction then emerging traffic from your right have the right of way.
Along with the signs and solid lines at junctions there is often other helpful road markings, but not always.
It's looking like a lovely trip. Empty roads, and a support vehicle.
I would have copied an image of the priorite a droit sign, but copyright ect.
11/08/2026 11:07:08 UTC
Ian Soady¹ said :-
Priorité à droite. This site (link below) has a good explanation with examples of the signs.
https://www.drive-france.com/faqs/get-your-priorities-right/...
11/08/2026 12:00:33 UTC
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Travel StoriesA Holiday In Normandy