Fecamp to Etretat – Saving the Best Till Last

I really struggled to decide what to do today. This is the last day of my walk and I originally hoped to reach Le Havre or Honfleur, but I’ve so much enjoyed the last three days walking along the shore and cliff tops. It’s been great, and so I decided to carry on down the coast, because the highway is for gamblers, better use your sense. Take what you have gathered from coincidence. Thank you Bob.

The sun is up, the sky is blue, it’s beautiful and so are you. Thanks John.

And looking forward it was inciting and inviting me. Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on across the universe. Thanks John, and David. The tide was going out. Perfect.

The crunch of Salomon shoes on a beach of pebbles takes me back to Chesil beach nearly 8 years ago. Remembrance of things past manipulates my sentimentality, hopes, deepest regrets and sadness. Thanks Marcel. Never read your Magnus Opus but I’m familiar with the simple principle. The cliffs are getting really high and the springs are shifting from the shore to part-way up the chalk face.

I’m sure the stream that runs straight out of this rock resulted in this collapse.

Someone had erected a Christ/scarecrow out of marine flotsam. On an empty shore it was a bit spooky. It’s head turned as I walked past, then it started to chase me. Then I came to the realisation that I must stop eating LSD for breakfast.

At the next bay someone had written the bleeding obvious again.

But there’s always one fool who will end up getting hurt. Little old wine drinker me. Thanks Deano. I’d already come a long way and the tide was still going out. Although an old gimmer on the beach reckoned that I couldn’t get all the way to Etretat. I’d give it a bloody good go though Joe. Ho ho ho!

This was a delightful little resort called summat French.

Summat French? Struggling for stuff to write you daft Dee Dah?

I’ll Dee Dah dee in a minute.

Please boys. Declare peace in my brain and enjoy the ride. Mencalists.

It was called Yport. He said, with the same relief, certitude and confidence that Polly had expressed …….”and it’s name was….Dragonfly”.

On round the corner to the next bay.

Where I cut inland as the tide turned and there was little sign of chances of getting up the cliffs for the next ten kilometres. Let’s follow the GR21 again. Mr Brown goes off to town on GR21, but he comes home each evening and he’s ready with his gun. Thanks Walmington on Sea platoon.

The cliffs were very high here, and there seemed to be a really spectacular cliff top path on top of the cliffs……….

Get a grip lad.

I had to part company with the GR21 and head for the shade.

Emerging at the top the view was reyt good.

Go west young man. The cliff top meadows were alive.

Although the path came alarmingly near the edge.

And the old man was right. I couldn’t have made it beyond the final cliff to Etretat, even at low tide it thrust out into the sea.

What a fantastic walk. Just great.

I got a bit vertiginous.

Ooh get him. Vertiginous is it?

Please get this cretin out of my head. Let me live in peace. Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat, I’d give it all gladly, if our lives could be like that. Thanks Bob.

And Etretat was so much more than I thought it would be. Still intact, the arch that Monet painted over 130 years ago.

And down in town the view the other way was busy but beautiful.

I met a Dutch couple in town who I’d met in Fecamp when I was starting out today. Turned out they were staying in the room next to me in my hotel! We had a great chat and a beer together!

This is my Dutch mate Bert.

And that is the end of this stage.

Thank you for reading. I’ll be back in September from Nepal, or earlier if I do another little trek. Around 180 miles completed this time. A good, testing and beautiful route.

Night night.