The discreet charm of Berck-sur-Mer by kerouac2
Apr 22, 2010 20:21:24 GMT
Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2010 20:21:24 GMT
Berck-sur-Mer has always appealed to me for some reason. There is just about nothing lovely about it except for its very impressive beach. It is located on the English Channel, so the weather and temperature are normally not particularly advantageous. The whole beachfront was bombed to nothingness in WW2 and was rebuilt in a very ugly style. But it gets worse.
Even the name is a total turn-off for the French. “Berck” or the variant “beurck” can be translated into English by “ugh” or “yuck” – can you imagine living in a town with such a name, especially when it is undeniably ugly? It is one of the lowest class beach resorts in France, aimed only at the poorest people who can’t afford anything better – the mythical French Riviera, beautiful Languedoc or even the south Atlantic coast and all of its surfing beaches and beautiful dunes.
Last weekend, I had a reason to go there besides just being weird. Something was going to happen, and the weather promised to be nice, except for perhaps some volcanic ash wafting down. I parked on Avenue Marianne Toute Seule. WTF? “Marianne All Alone” – I already had to find out why a street would have such a name. 
She was born in 1812 and was widowed with two children, whom she raised “all alone”. Her real name was Marianne Brillard, and she lived in a shack in the dunes of Berck. She was the babysitter of the children of the fishermen going out to sea, when they themselves were widowed – a common occurrence in those days with all of the various illnesses. On top of that, she was given various sick children of whom to take care, and she succeeded brilliantly in many cases, by taking them out into the marine air as much as possible. She died in 1874, but it is because of her that Berck became somewhat famous. It was specialized in the treatment of tuberculosis and other lung diseases, sick children in general, and plenty of other nasty diseases. It still has several huge hospitals along the coast and has also become a major center for nursing schools. All this, for a population of just 15,000.
A lot of moviegoers have actually had a few glimpses of Berck if they saw the film “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” which took place almost completely in one of the big hospitals there. And even though I chose not to take photographs of the sick people later in the day, there were huge numbers of wheelchairs on the beach later in the day with the various attendants. Watching them watch what was happening that afternoon (particularly the children) almost brought tears to my eyes more than once.
As is my wont, I had arrived quite early, because I like to see things as they are put into place, not just the end result. I knew that everything would be happening in the afternoon, but I wanted to see Berck in the morning.
Things were quite calm when I arrived. Yes, that it one of the big hospitals in the photo below.
I was quickly perturbed by a “problem.” Berck is “Berck-sur-Mer” (Berck-by-the-Sea) but there was no sea to be seen.
I could not be on the seaside and not see the sea, but I must also confess something else. I have already mentioned that I am terrified of clowns, but there is something that terrifies me even more – the ocean! I am a very poor swimmer and am convinced that I will drown if uncontrolled water gets too close to me. I want to be in quick reach of dry land. But I was looking at the horizon across kilometers of wet sand and could not see the ocean. Dare I go looking for it?
Well, I could at least go as far as that buoy and the barnacled structure next to it. That looked pretty safe, even though it was already pretty far away. And so I arrived there.
Why is this thing out here, since it is clearly completely submerged at high tide (hence the warning buoy)?
Oh, there’s some sort of water intake or drain inside…
But, shit! I’m already quite far from dry land and I still can’t see the ocean!
On top of that, there is a river to cross to get farther out. I am going to die for sure. Yes, I saw that terrible warning sign before starting out this way.
It turned out to be quite shallow. So I kept going – but I had to cross two more of them before I got to the water.
Well, I had survived so far but it was time to get the hell back to high ground, even if other fools were heading out to certain death.
I did admire the wave patterns on the sand, but I didn’t like walking through the muck of the “rivers” – what was it anyway? Creamed spinach? Hospital diarrhea?
It was a relief to finally be back somewhere safe. But when was the tide supposed to come in anyway? I had no idea.
Even the name is a total turn-off for the French. “Berck” or the variant “beurck” can be translated into English by “ugh” or “yuck” – can you imagine living in a town with such a name, especially when it is undeniably ugly? It is one of the lowest class beach resorts in France, aimed only at the poorest people who can’t afford anything better – the mythical French Riviera, beautiful Languedoc or even the south Atlantic coast and all of its surfing beaches and beautiful dunes.
She was born in 1812 and was widowed with two children, whom she raised “all alone”. Her real name was Marianne Brillard, and she lived in a shack in the dunes of Berck. She was the babysitter of the children of the fishermen going out to sea, when they themselves were widowed – a common occurrence in those days with all of the various illnesses. On top of that, she was given various sick children of whom to take care, and she succeeded brilliantly in many cases, by taking them out into the marine air as much as possible. She died in 1874, but it is because of her that Berck became somewhat famous. It was specialized in the treatment of tuberculosis and other lung diseases, sick children in general, and plenty of other nasty diseases. It still has several huge hospitals along the coast and has also become a major center for nursing schools. All this, for a population of just 15,000.
A lot of moviegoers have actually had a few glimpses of Berck if they saw the film “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” which took place almost completely in one of the big hospitals there. And even though I chose not to take photographs of the sick people later in the day, there were huge numbers of wheelchairs on the beach later in the day with the various attendants. Watching them watch what was happening that afternoon (particularly the children) almost brought tears to my eyes more than once.
As is my wont, I had arrived quite early, because I like to see things as they are put into place, not just the end result. I knew that everything would be happening in the afternoon, but I wanted to see Berck in the morning.
Things were quite calm when I arrived. Yes, that it one of the big hospitals in the photo below.
I was quickly perturbed by a “problem.” Berck is “Berck-sur-Mer” (Berck-by-the-Sea) but there was no sea to be seen.
I could not be on the seaside and not see the sea, but I must also confess something else. I have already mentioned that I am terrified of clowns, but there is something that terrifies me even more – the ocean! I am a very poor swimmer and am convinced that I will drown if uncontrolled water gets too close to me. I want to be in quick reach of dry land. But I was looking at the horizon across kilometers of wet sand and could not see the ocean. Dare I go looking for it?
Well, I could at least go as far as that buoy and the barnacled structure next to it. That looked pretty safe, even though it was already pretty far away. And so I arrived there.
Why is this thing out here, since it is clearly completely submerged at high tide (hence the warning buoy)?
Oh, there’s some sort of water intake or drain inside…
But, shit! I’m already quite far from dry land and I still can’t see the ocean!
On top of that, there is a river to cross to get farther out. I am going to die for sure. Yes, I saw that terrible warning sign before starting out this way.
It turned out to be quite shallow. So I kept going – but I had to cross two more of them before I got to the water.
Well, I had survived so far but it was time to get the hell back to high ground, even if other fools were heading out to certain death.
I did admire the wave patterns on the sand, but I didn’t like walking through the muck of the “rivers” – what was it anyway? Creamed spinach? Hospital diarrhea?
It was a relief to finally be back somewhere safe. But when was the tide supposed to come in anyway? I had no idea.
We await!
.
