A short walk along the very misty Alabaster Coast in Normandy – so no sea views but the German war defences were interesting.

Date walked: 24th May 2018

Map used: IGN 1809 “Fecamp”- a great large scale map

Distance: about 8.5 miles

Rating: 6/10

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Shortly before Bob and I did our walk in the Alsace I received an invitation to visit a garden in Normandy called Jardin Etretat, just north of le Havre. The invitation (made to me as a photographer member of the Garden Media Guild) came with the offer of paying for my travelling expenses and a night in a hotel.  The garden was unknown to me and looked like a place I would find exciting to photograph, so I was more than happy to accept. Here’s  one of my pics.

I decided to build onto the garden visit a couple of extra days walking on the GR21 which runs near the coast from Le Havre, through Etretat to Le Treport – about 116 miles. I had my car with me and having researched local transport I decided to base myself at Fecamp; buses were conveniently timed to be able to get me back to my starting point for both of the walks I had planned.

I booked two nights in the Vent d’Ouest hotel which was very close to the path and the bus terminal.  At 66 Euros a night (without breakfast) for a double room I thought it pretty good value – despite being in the centre of town the room was situated away from the road and was quiet and though lacking views was comfortable. Amazingly as I arrived someone just pulled out of the only unrestricted parking space; I took this to be a good omen.

This part of the coastline – all within the Seine-Maritime region– is known as the Alabaster Coast and is renowned for its vertical chalk cliffs. The only problem as far as the path was concerned is that it doesn’t follow the coast – the cliffs are too fragile it seems (is this the case on our south coast too?). So no cliff top views. The second problem was that today the coastline was enveloped by thick mist – so no views at all. This may be one of the least interesting walks I have written up. Domage.

As I walked by the Tourist Office at the harbour the heaviness of the mist was not that apparent.

How many people would require the translation?

Visibility at the harbour-side was OK…..

…..but as I climbed up the narrow passage up the side of the hill I could barely see across town….

… and by the time I reached the Chapel de Notre Dame de Salut I could barely make out the cross on its not very high steeple.

A sign informed me that the church has been a place of pilgrimage since the C14th.

But not today – it was closed for repairs.

Ferme (that’s c;losed in French)

A  hundred yards from the church  is the – originally C19th – Semaphore building; now housing a navy observation point.

Not a lot to see today

This is  Cap Fagnet -the highest point of the entire Alabaster Coast. On a fine day….

Immediately behind the Semaphore are an extensive range of German-built World War II buildings. It was a sobering thought that this part of France was occupied by the Germans between June 1940 and September 1944. In 1942, fearing Anglo-American invasion Hitler established a series of defences from Southern France to North Norway known as the Atlantic Wall.  Those at  Fecamp comprised a blockhouse called the Mammut on which long distance radar was mounted…

The Mammut

… two Tobruk machine gun emplacements…

The machine gunner would stand in the round hole

…. and at intervals several heavily fortified lookout posts.

I don’t think that I had taken in before just how much the channel saved us from combat taking place on our soil.

The path did follow the coast for half a mile or so. It seems that this is a good place to spot migratory birds.

But not today

Signs warned about the collapsing cliffs;

Good of them to give the warning in English – do we have signs in french on the British coast?

and through the murk I could see why, as the face of the cliffs here just looked like pebbles and mud.

So I kept to the path….

…. holding no hope of sea views.

No sea

After passing another lookout post….

…. and a section half-heartedly fenced off at the edge of a field…

Was that a migratory bird or a resident

….. the path left the coast and crossing a minor road, headed inland.

The land away from the coast was flat, planted with crops and pretty dull.

Any offers?

A pond provided something to take a picture of….

A bit desperate, I know

…. and on the edge of a little village called Senneville-sur-Fecamp some handsome sheep (we, like sheep) had mounted a concrete bunker.

Did you play “I’m the King of the Castle”?

The village itself was very dull, its gardens either non-existent or comprised a motley collection of random shrubs; all had a barbecue.

Bet she’s got a sore bottom

Actually I did enjoy a bank of pink geranium with Centaurea….

… and a robot lawn mower gave me a chuckle.

You really should click my Youtube link

Here’s link to my Youtube clip of it; this is probably the best bit of the day.

And I had to stand in awe of a monument to the fallen cyclists of the Tour de France, which passed by here in 2015.

This crossroads with the D79 is clearly more dangerous than it looks.

On leaving the village  I encountered a walking group…..

Bonjour

Bonjour

Bonjour

Bonjour

Bonjour

Bonjour   x20

…. and shortly afterwards paused at a sports ground to have a break, where I snapped my Pic Of The Day.

After a very quiet mile or so…

Are you still awake?

… the path took a sharp left and headed down the Valleuse d’Eletot on a wide track towards the coast.

Hawthorne and Cow Parsley in May – what could be nicer?

The hedgerows of cow-parsley (or some such plant) and campion were as pretty as anything you’d find in a garden…

.. and some of the campion flowers were near-white, which I haven’t seen before.

Sometimes I can get my macro on the camera to work

Towards the bottom of the valley, huts started appearing by the track. Some were quite tidy and basic..

… some were smart and architectural…

… some were on their way out…..

….and one was for sale.

This one had the best view (but not today)

If this were the UK the huts would announce a sandy beach or cove, but not here. There was a barrier across the concrete steps that led to the beach (always an invitation to me to trespass)…

… but then the crumbling steps stopped in midair and the beach was very inhospitable.

No sandcastle building opportunities here

The cliffs here were a bit grubby and were being undercut by the sea.

They were also home to dozens of noisy gulls.

The path climbed up the other side of the valley and then I was returned to flat fields.

Yawn

It skirted the village of Eletot, where my passing by  caused much excitement to several small herds of fine cattle.

One stampeding group really wanted a better look at me, (or more probably, wanted something from me).

I popped into the village; no one was about, there were no shops and the flint-faced church was shut.

The last mile or two was a pretty dull tramp along a quiet road.

Hey ho

There was very little I was moved to photograph.

Approaching St Pierre-en-Port the path became a track though some woods…

… which descended quite steeply to a road leading left to  the beach and right up to the the village. This was no beach resort, though. There was no facility of any kind. Just a small car park. As beaches go the shingle shore looked more appealing than the earlier one.

There’s even a small patch of sand

On the beach a woman slowly walked up and down picking up rocks…..

…and bringing some back to the concrete promenade. I took a closer look at her collection. They all had holes in them.

The holes appear to have been made by sea creatures as this link to a post from our side of the channel describes.

St Pierre-en-Port was, apparently, much painted by Delacroix; I was thankful to a board by the path for this improvement in my education.

So in Delacroix’s footsteps I returned to the path which took a circuitous route to the village, passing a cemetery that said it had Commonwealth War Graves.

I went in and had a good look round but I only found graves of locals, mostly adorned with ceramic flowers and crosses.

Hmm

Finally a steep flight of steps brought me to the rather striking church.

People were assembling for a funeral so I thought a visit inappropriate and found my way to the village centre. This was a proper village with two small supermarkets, a cafe and a splendid Marie.

I can’t remember if I had time to go to the shops before my bus (No 24) came. But I do remember the bus was on time and cost about 4 Euros to get me back to Fecamp. I did see some sun at the end of the day as I sat on the beach at Fecamp with a takeaway pizza (Domino’s quality). Not a bad day, really.