Our last dinner at “home” in Plouezoc’h was simple and yet very French and very delicious, served on a sunny patio.

• A nice slice of duck terrine from the local market
• Camembert and Compte Cheese
• A delicious loaf of afternoon fresh bread from the boulangerie
• A bottle of wonderful of French wine
• Fresh Macarons for desert (four lemon; four passion fruit with chocolate)

Saturday

The Drive to Abbeville

Six hours on the road and we were in Abbeville after stopping for an eminently forgettable lunch of bad sandwiches and Lay’s potato chips at a French Autoroute rest stop.

Twenty odd years ago we stayed in Abbeville a few times en route from Paris to Calais to get the ferry/train back to London.  Abbeville was a drab town, chosen merely because it was about an hour from Calais and, therefore, a good stopping point.  The Hotel de France was an aging French hotel, a little dumpy inside and out, but it was the best in town and it had a good restaurant.

Well, both Abbeville and the Hotel de France have been transformed.  The main street in Abbeville is totally renovated and fully alive with shops, restaurants, cafes, and bars.  It was colorful and lively.  Mercure, a French chain, now runs the Hotel de France.  It is stunningly modern from top to bottom with rooms that any brand new Marriott would be proud of.  (Oh, the wi-fi didn’t work, but it’s France – C’est normale)

Dinner in the restaurant was very good.  We both started with a trio of macarons, each sliced and filled with smoked salmon in one, artichoke and celeriac mouse in another, and foie gras in the last.  The sweetness of the macarons perfectly complemented the fillings.  For my main I had a double order (to Elaine’s chagrin) of steak tartare with frites;  she had country chicken casserole seared in beer and served with potatoes and vegetables.  I had mi cuit chocolat for desert and Elaine enjoyed a final tarte tatin.

Sunday

The Ferry

We drove the hour from Abbeville to Calais in some dense fog, but it was clear by the time we reached the ferry terminal.  We had priority boarding on the P&O ferry and actually got on an earlier departure than our reservation.  The ride was smooth as we watched the white cliffs of Dover come closer and closer from the P&O club lounge.

Actually it was good that we caught the earlier ferry because the drive from Dover to Heathrow to turn in our car took longer than expected.  We dropped the car, and they then  dropped at the Heathrow terminal.  Oh, oh, no camera!  A quick call, and the nice man was back with the camera in hand.  At the terminal, we caught the National Express coach for the hour plus ride to Gatwick where our flight leaves from tomorrow.  We checked into a very nice Marriott Courtyard (using points).  We’ll have dinner there tonight.  The flight tomorrow is at 11;25 am.  We’ll overnight in Henderson, NV after we land and be home by noon on Tuesday.  I’ll check in with a post then.

I’m almost embarrassed to post Elaine’s trip postscript, but it’s a tradition, so here it is:

Elaine’s Postscript

As usual, Joe’s meticulous planning kept us busy for almost 5 full weeks.  We saw more of Brittany than most French people.  From big cathedrals to small gardens tucked away in some small town, there was little we missed.  Cornwall, Devon and the Isle of Jersey received the same attention to detail.  I sometimes say Joe is too anal about some things but when it comes to travel planning, he has no peer.  I also say that we do too much in a day but he says “we can always rest when we get home and we may never be here again” so we march on. 

Joe’s French was ever so good.  He dealt with the Renault service department with aplomb; he got directions for our hotel in Dinan when we were hopelessly lost; he explained to the pharmacist that I needed an antibiotic for an eye infection and he handled so many other things all the while ingratiating himself to the locals. 

There is no one I would rather have as a travel partner and no one I would rather share the road with.  Merci beaucoup, mon cher!