Caux Conspirators

Caux  (kō, as you know)  is what this region of Normandy is called. We’re in a town called Caudebec, only has about 2500 people, but lots of festively decorated shops and a splendid  Gothic church , which miraculously was spared the German bombs—even its oldest stained glass, which fortunately had been shipped off to Provence before the war for restoration .
We had a brief informative stroll round the  town this morning. Back on board for lunch.  Then we went off to explore on our own.
We stopped into the church again for another look, and nobody else was in there, so I went to the central aisle, as close to the choir stalls as I could, and started singing Christmas carols. I figured it would be my only chance ever to experience singing in a stone church. (.Tink,I wish you were here; we coulda harmonized.) The sound  was huge, it echoed, seemed to swoop to the apex and slide down the ribbed Gothic arches;  it was an amazing feeling.
Then we climbed up and up the hill behind the town, which is studded with (probably exorbitantly expensive)  rustic manoirs. Very foggy and very cold today.
Great views of the Seine, about which we learned a lot this morning.  On this part of it, from Rouen to LeHavre,  the estuary, it is controlled by the ocean  and changes flow  direction with the tides.  It was extensively re-worked during the latter half of the 19th century, to make it less meandering and deeper.  But every ship that sails it has to take a Seine pilot on board, because there are still treacherous sandbars.
Another group of entertaining dining companions, so we lucked out.
Tomorrow: Rouen.  Apparently the correct pronunciation is sump’n like “Hwuonh”.  Live ‘n’ learn…


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