France to Belgium: The English Channel to the North Sea

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I started to title this thread, "I see England, I see France," because, if you throw in Belgium, that's exactly what we did. After traveling in the south of France I didn't think my summer vacation could possibly get any better. The south had everything one could possibly desire: a festival in Avignon, a legendary mountain on the course of the Tour de France, gorges, quarries, Roman ruins, a huge swamp, the Mediterranean, and Marseille. What more could you possibly ask for?

Bixa and Kerouac have threads detaining the southern portion of our trip.

Bixa: Quarries, crags, crenellations...

Kerouac: Vaucluse and Beyond


I loved everything about our visit south, but the trip north was beyond all expectations and now I must find a way to return. Even the freeway rest stops were picturesque.

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From Paris, we drove slightly north and slightly west to the beach town of Le Touquet on the English Channel. Kerouac has written numerous reports featuring beaches in the north, but I had no idea I would find them so compelling.

[amboseli]

Lovely!
If the weather is nice, there's nothing better than the beaches in northern France, Belgium, the Netherlands. Wide and sandy.
Unfortunately we haven't had a lot of nice weather so far ...

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We lucked out with the weather, Amboseli. It could not have been more perfect.

After wandering the town a bit and having sandwiches, we headed in the direction of Calais with me furiously snapping photos through the windscreen. The terrain kept getting more and more beautiful.






































I thought it was just all too gorgeous to drink in, but the best was yet to come.

[mossie]

Can't wait for more!
When I was at work in the latter years I used to have a "boys day out" once a year, generally to Le Touquet. This involved flying in a light aircraft belonging to the managing director of our chief rival, who I had known for very many years, and an oil company man. All on expenses natch. It was hard work, I had to drive to a local farmers strip where the plane was kept to meet the others, then fly down to Southend to clear customs and thence to Le Touquet. Once there it was over a mile to walk into town, to Perards, a noted fish restaurant. Much Muscadet sur lie accompanied the huge fruits de mer meal, then it was a sleep on the beach, before the hike back to the airfield for the trip home. Those were the days.

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Sounds like the stuff legends are made of, Mossie, and from which tall tales evolve! Approximately, what years were those?

I must admit I have no photos of Le Touquet. I had tried taking a few as we drove through the town on the way yo the beach, but they were worthless. I thought I'd taken pictures during the period when we walked around the beach market area, but now I realize I had put my camera away and just gaped, open-mouthed, while we wandered and had lunch. At any rate, Kerouac may have a few photos from my missed opportunity to post in this thread sometime soon.

Perhaps you'll recognize some landmarks, Mossie.

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Driving along the road on the way to Calais, we could see large ships off the coast.




Of course, there were also reminders of the past in evidence.




When I heard we were going to visit two capes along the English Channel, I had no clue what this really meant. Sometimes it's best just to be surprised.

Cap Gris Nez (Cape Grey Nose) was the first, and the view was absolutely fabulous. This is the closest point of France to England, a distance of 34 km (21 mi).

After driving up a steep entrance road we parked in the main lot.



What a beautiful day, and how lucky we were!

The sheep in the pasture added much to the charm of the day.




Having grown up in a family with many ties to large commercial shipping ports and the sea, I've always loved to watch ships sailing in the distance. I could have stood at this spot and watched all day.







There was even interesting flora and fauna of a different kind.







Of course, this was in the area anticipated to be the landing location for the allied forces. www.losapos.com/francebunkers





There appeared to be some wonderful overlook points ahead.















As mesmerizing as it was to watch the sheep, I was ready to move closer to the cliff's edge.

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Out in the channel I could see one of the ferries.










Off in the distance, Cap Blanc Nez.
We'll go there next.



I can certainly see why the French call this area the Côte d'Opale.




In the channel I could see huge cargo ships and tankers.




As well as much smaller sailboats.
Is that Dover in the distance?




Even fishermen could be spotted if you looked close enough.

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A few more photos before moving up the coast.
















There are plenty of charming places to see along the coast road.




Magnificent vistas everywhere!




Thank goodness for our stellar driver!




There's Cap Blanc Nez in the distance.

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I don't have much to contribute from Le Touquet -- just a few beach scenes and the rather remarkable covered market building.

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I'm happy you added the photos, especially the market building. Thanks!

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Continuing back at the base of Cap Blanc Nez where the views proved to be different from the first cape. The tide was going out and the beaches below shimmered with colors of green, blue, and tones of brown.




To the right, in contrast, Calais and communities along the coast could be seen.




The sea was still just as opalescent.
















Somewhere along this path was where I lost out on what would have been a challenging photo opportunity. It's been awhile since I've heard bird sounds coming from low growing shrubs, so my camera was turned to "off" and I didn't react quickly enough to photograph the huge pheasant that flew up into the air right in front of me and Kerouac. It was so close, I could distinctly see the multitude of bright colors spread throughout its feathers.

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Looking back towards Cap Gris Nez, the views were outstanding.













Others were enjoying the experience, too.














While I would have loved to have been down on the beach, I must say the view from above was the stuff of dreams. It was like a fine impressionist painting had come to life.

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All of the various blues of the sky and sea are outstanding, as are the greens and browns of the fields. It's the stuff of which jigsaw puzzles dreams are made.

The exposed bank of seaweed looks like a treasure trove of discovery. I know that the locals dig for all sorts of shellfish at low tide along the coast, although I do not know the rules governing it.

[bjd]

Lovely views when the sun shines!

In #3, you drove into Wimereux. When my husband was a kid, his grandmother bought a big house near the beach in Wimereux, expecting that the whole family (her kids and a zillion cousins) would come there in summer. She ended up selling it after a couple of years because nobody came more than once after experiencing the rain, wind and cold water.

I bet your ladies in the 4th picture from the bottom are English!

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Those ladies were just gabbing away, having a great talk. They appeared to be waiting for others, so maybe they were part of a larger group. I'm not sure what language they were speaking. I didn't get too close since I'm sure it was clear to at least one that I had been taking their picture.

Didn't we luck out with the weather! I can imagine it gets really nasty along the coast. I wouldn't mind experiencing a little bit of it, but know it would get quite old after awhile.

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I confess that I felt compelled to google the French news to ask about cliff accidents in the Pas de Calais. It appears that somebody falls off a cliff about every six months, nearly always out of stupidity and usually with the idea "I can climb down to the beach from here." (Do they give any thought to how they expect to get back up?) Most of them seem to survive, but usually with an open fracture of something.

[bixaorellana]

I don't know what to say! Really, the most sincere thing is the thing that sounds most trite: it's just like being there. But it really, really is! My gosh, you captured the quality of the light, the sense of space, the exquisite range of colors and tones -- all of it. And the coverage is so complete and sequential, once again it's just like being there.

I was so dazzled while there that I don't think I picked up on that jagged cliff edge which you show so beautifully, especially in the second photo of it. And the sheep! Those weren't easy pictures to get, but they are perfect. I'm going back to enjoy the whole show again from the closeups of plants and bugs to the photogenic sheep to the candid people shots to the magnificent wide vistas.

Kerouac, I was so interested in what was inside the market building that I'd completely missed that it was built like an upside-down boat -- good catch. I really like your beach pictures, especially the one with the woman in red shorts.

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I remember having to force myself to stop taking pictures and head back towards the car.

It was such a beautiful spot on a very perfect afternoon.

Here's one last look through my lens before moving on to Calais.

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We spent the night at a budget hotel in the town of Coquelles, next to Calais. We had an interesting evening with shopping and dinner nearby, but I'll defer to Bixa and Kerouac for further details.

My hotel room was special in that it overlooked the Eurotunnel Calais Terminal and the surrounding highway system.




The area was quite pretty. It was dotted with wetlands and attracted a variety of birds and small animals.







Though I also heard trucks off in the distance most of the night, it was great to sleep with the window open and listen to the sounds of nature.
















Way off in the distance I could see the tower of the Mairie in the middle of the older section of Calais.




Sunrise in the morning was lovely!

[mossie]

Thanks for showing us the town hall in Calais. When I was a child during the war I remember my mother telling us, as we looked at the French coast across the Channel from Folkestone, that on a really clear day one could tell the time from that clock. Now you know where I get my imagination from.

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I'll bet your mother could see the clock, Mossie. Most mothers possess super powers.

On the way to Belgium we drove through Calais and, while I didn't get many pictures, I do remember thinking it seemed like a nice enough town.




Here's the tower I could see from my motel room window.




While I had heard about all the fencing put in place to keep trespassers out of tunnel areas, I was surprised at the massive amount of wire. The fencing seemed to be more heavy-duty than what one sees around some maximum security prisons.







This section had three separate rows of fence.

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The belfry dates just from 1925. They started to build the city hall in 1911 but were interrupted by the war in 1914. And what had been built by then was pretty much destroyed. Calais was bombed by the British in 1940, the Australians in 1941 and by the Americans in 1944 and 1945, targeting mostly the port and the rail lines and station. Bombs being very stupid, they also destroyed 150 houses, a hospital and a church. People died.

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Yes, people died.
The world is filled with hate and pain.
All the more reason to keep reminding ourselves not to worry about stupid, petty crap, and to enjoy the good times.


After driving into Belgium we stopped at a wide, sandy beach called De Panne on the North Sea. We seemed to have beaten the crowd, but the beach and promenade began to fill up during the time we spent wandering.

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[patricklondon]

Aug 4, 2016 15:04:09 GMT mossie said:

Thanks for showing us the town hall in Calais. When I was a child during the war I remember my mother telling us, as we looked at the French coast across the Channel from Folkestone, that on a really clear day one could tell the time from that clock.

Oh, the excitement when they managed the first live cross-Channel TV broadcast - of Calais Town Hall
www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/genome/entries/06b42884-ed9c-4b95-a9b4-c2b9a1f76c70





My blog | My photos | My video clips
"too literate to be spam"

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Now I remember, we listened to BBC radio while following the French coastline.

We left the beach and the sea behind,




making another couple of stops on our return to Paris.





Stories for another day.