Lately
our ports have been the gateway to some other place and this time it is ‘Le
Havre – Gateway to Paris’.
We
didn’t go to Paris which was about three hours away by coach before you began
the tour of Paris, and then three hours back to the Sea Princess. The coach
trips to Paris left about 8am, and were due back 7pm. They must have come back
because we are at sea at 8pm on the route to Dover. And this is touted as “The
Gateway to London”.
Alas
– another day and another country. This is becoming a bit of a whirlwind. Also,
our clocks went forward an hour between Scotland and France, and tonight they
have to go back an hour for England. Practically this means that 9pm tonight
becomes 8pm at tomorrow’s time. I
believe this has something to do with Daylight Saving in England and not on the
Continent. Then the Newsletter tells us clocks must go forward another hour
tomorrow night for Holland. No wonder I am confused. It’s just as well I have
Bruce. He’s very particular about time and he keeps us on time and changes all
our clocks.
It’s
latish now and I’m starting ‘Le Havre’ story before I go to bed. It’s getting
so I just can’t keep up with the day after day reporting. So this will per
force be shorter so I can be briefly ‘up to date’ for at least a day.
Today
we took the local Shuttle Bus into Le Havre city (at a cost of €8 each person, for each way. A bit stiff,
and too far to walk.)
We
took the Singapore wheelchair, as my scooter won’t fit under a bus and is too
heavy anyway. Bruce pushed me along the footpaths which were blessedly free of
cobblestones. There was a wind that whistled through the streets and it was
very cold. The ship said to expect 14°C and it felt even cooler. We wore our
warm clothes for the first time. People appeared at breakfast in jumpers and warm
coats.
It
was a bit scary watching for the traffic coming on the right hand side of the
road. No one else waited for green pedestrian lights, so soon we began to
follow the local French and hope for the best.
This
is Normandy and you can’t help thinking of the Second World War. I believe that
this whole place was totally destroyed and that it took years to clean it up
and start building again. Nothing looked old as in other places.
All
the streets we passed were clean and tidy, with small shops of all sorts.
Before we got into the town proper there were vacant shops along the way. Sign
of the economic times? Too far out of town? There was a building site which
advertised the opening in 2014 of a large white conical shaped building with no
windows, called something like ‘The Vulcan’ which I took to mean ‘Volcano’. It
was that shape and at least five stories high. A diagram on the building-site
fence showed internal floors with compartments that could be shops or offices.
A sort of volcano ants’ nest? But – no
windows?
We
passed a park with flowers and the city square outside the large ‘Maison de
Ville’ with French and European flags and “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity” printed
high across the façade. Near there we found a large shopping centre. It was warm
inside so we stayed a while. There was a large supermarket to explore, and I
spent time in the Deli section – amazed at the ‘take-away’ cold meat section
which contained not only cold cuts but already cooked casserole dishes, like
“Curried Lamb”. The cheese section was
also just something else! I took photos of the amazing displays, but can’t put
them here as I don’t know how to do photos. Sad.
Meanwhile
Bruce explored the grog section and bought two bottles of French red wine,
which now reside behind the television in our cabin till he gets around to
drinking them in his pre-dinner cocktails at 5pm. Just a note on the purchase.
The two bottles of wine cost €5.98 and that meant only €0.02cents change. The
check-out girl asked if he’d like them in a bag, which made the bill €6.01 and
he got lots of small coins to carry around as change. How did he know she was going to charge him
for the plastic bag?
There
were ‘Sales’ in all the shops. Some said they were up to their Third Reduction
in price (that is, if my translation was right). They kept saying 30%, 50% and
as much as 70% ‘Off’. I found a little Boutique of ‘Christine Laure’ ladies’
wear, and had fun with my 60 year old schoolgirl French and their French sizes.
With holding up fingers, we (the lady and I) decided I must be French ‘size 4
or 5’ instead of ‘Size 16’ or just ‘Large’ as in Australia and I bought a
greatly reduced shirt to remember France and Le Havre.
Back
out into the chill wind and along the streets to the place we had to meet the
Shuttle. Bruce assured me he was a good Boy Scout and we would never be lost.
Tonight
we have only to cross the English Channel back to Dover. Then it’s England. For
one day! The first Test of the Ashes is one and Bruce
has been glued to TV Sports News to keep up with the Score. He’s very
frustrated they are not showing the whole game – only the score among Football
news.
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