Day 98, Le Havre, France

According to our "Currents" daily publication, Le Havre, a Unesco World Heritage Site since 2005, ". . . is a love letter to modernism, evoking, more than any other French city, France's postwar energy and optimism." Whether that is true or not, I cannot say, as I chose an excursion into the French countryside to tour a cheese factory operated by the same family for more than 100 years. Every step of the entire cheese making process was described in minute detail. Then, after one had learned all there was to know about cheese making, we were ushered into a tasting room to taste their four different flavors/types of cheese. This was a very systematic process. No willy nelly take a bite of one chunk, then randomly pick up another chunk, etc. No siree! One must start at 12 o'clock, savor appropriately, sip some cider to cleanse one's palette, then proceed to 3 o'clock and so on and so on. Too bad the tour was not as organized as the tasting. Of course, after this lengthy tasting process, all were escorted to the shop offering the opportunity to purchase all four varieties in as great a quantity as one's pocketbook would allow. No, thank you. Not to my liking. What I did enjoy about the experience was the memories from my childhood which it brought back to mind. Especially in the "milking room". Not only did I fondly remember my Granddad dutifully milking our cow morning and night, but I also recalled the times I spent the night with June Sieber, my best friend in fifth and sixth grade. Her family owned a dairy farm with dozens and dozens of dairy cows which required milking twice a day. The milking operation was automated very much like this cheese factory, but before they could be milked, the cows must be driven to the barn. Twice a day! Every day! To me it was great fun! To June, not so much. Our cow was so gentle (she even tolerated Granddad's attempts to teach me how to milk) that when she saw Granddad headed to the milk shed, so did she. No herding involved. I am quite certain that I was the ONLY person on the tour who had ever even remotely been exposed to the milking process.

While the trip to the Cheese Factory will not go down as my best-ever excursion, the day was most enjoyable! Not only did it bring back fond memories of days long, long ago, but I was also reminded of how very, very beautiful the French countryside is. To get to the cheese factory, we drove through lush green fields and an area our guide described as "a common area" in which cattle and horses grazed freely. Upon entering this area, we passed over a cattle guard - before which she was careful to let us know that nothing was wrong with the bus. There again, I suspected I was one of few on said bus who actually knew what a cattle guard was. She was also very verbose regarding branding of the various herds. After days of touring Africa, I was intent on soaking in the sheer beauty of the countryside and its inhabitants.

The second part of the excursion took us to Deauville, France. Monaco has nothing on this city. Opulence on steroids everywhere you look. AI describes it as an upscale seaside resort town on the Normandy coast of France. Often called the "Parisian Riviera", it is famous for its grand casino, wide sandy beaches, iconic 1920's boardwalk, luxury boutiques, thoroughbred horse racing, and high-profile cultural events like the Deauville American Film Festival. I can take issue with none of the preceding. Our guide further explained that the advent of the railway system, making it so easily accessible to Parisians, attributed to the city's growth and popularity. She further stated that the wealthy Parisian gentlemen were famous for buying a home in Deauville for the wife and family and a lesser dwelling for the mistress in neighboring Trouville. All about convenience, don't you know. We were guided to the site of Coco Chanel's second boutique just across the street from a ginormous casino, then to the beach and "iconic" boardwalk. The photos herein are set along the boardwalk honoring all those celebrities contributing to the success of this festival. The first name I encountered was Van Johnson! Be honest, does anyone remember anything he did? But there were others I do recall with fond memories. See who you recognize from these few photos. True to its billing, the beach was unbelievably wide, white smooth sand all the way up to the distant waves of the ocean. Not the Normandy Beach that usually springs to one's mind. All in all a perfectly wonderful day in France - our only day in France. Tomorrow, South Hampton.

"Nothing but blue skies do I see!"

Casino Barriere de Deauville

Today is Someday! Smell the Roses!