A comment from Karen that came up in the blog this morning (October 19th) reminded me that I’ve never gone back to post the second walk I took from Le Tréport over a month ago. I’d better post them now before I forget again.
When I think back on this time now, I remember it as a somewhat optimistic moment when it seemed like Rachael was starting to get her health back and I didn’t know yet that I was about to get sick myself. It was the second day in a row that I went off on a walk while Rachael stayed in our apartment trying to nurse herself back to health. the day before, I took a walking tour of Le Tréport and came back amazed by the fantastic chalk cliffs that rise more than 300’ straight up from the shore behind town.
Today I decided to explore the north side of the bay, to the neighboring town of Mers-les-Bains that stands just on the other side of the mouth of the river. I was attracted primarily by the cliffs on that side too, the ones we biked down from when we first came to town; but also by the memory of the brief look we got of Mers-les-Bains when we dropped in from the north.
I began my walk by first returnng to the south jetty, wanting to get another look back on town from there.
Definitely worth a second look. If we were here longer and I had the health for it I’d like to climb or take the funicular up to the top and look down.
Le Tréport. Our second hotel, the Calais, is the brick building at the top of the rise just to the right of center - it’s the place we returned to for a second three night stay after we were blown back to town by strong winds and realized we needed to replan our itinerary because of our health.
And it would have been worth climbing up to the Saint-Jacque church, for the views if for nothing else. When I look back on these photos now I have feelings of regret at the lost potential. We were here for six nights, but there’s so much we didn’t see or do because of our health. I’d like to return some day.
Crossing the mouth of the river on the dam/flood control barrier. We crossed this going the other way coming in, and we’ll cross it again in the pre-dawn darkness on our way to the train station when we leave.
A reminder of how extreme the tides are here. When the tide is in those boats will all be bobbing in the water. I don’t recall seeing tides like this anywhere else but the Bay of Fundy.
OK. Let’s look at Mers-les-Bains finally. I sort of fell in love with the place and took a mountain of photos of it. I’m not going to caption them because I’ll never get this out the door, and I don’t want to wait another five or six weeks for something to remind me I still haven’t done it.
I will say something about the place though, which I found thoroughly remarkable. The town has the feeling of a well maintained historical period piece, from when it was developed in the late 19th century during the heyday of the bathing era. With the completion of the railroad to Le Tréport it was only a three hour train ride from Paris. Entire families could make the journey from Paris to discover the benefits of bathing and breathe the fresh, iodized air. Many would eventually buy land and build sumptuous second homes in the town.
Today, Mers-les-Bains is protected to maintain its historical character. The fine villas that were developed in those times are now subject to preservation orders, and refurbishment must be in the same materials and colours as the original work. No plastic doors or roller shutters are allowed. the result is a waterfront that is a compete delight to walk along, with literally every house and villa one that catches your eye.
