Mesnil-Val (July 26 - 31)

We were supposed to stay in an old farmhouse in Limousin but right before our vacation we found out that the planned renovations hadn’t been finished yet.

The Belgian Ardennes is always a good alternative, yet spoiled by the past weeks temperatures we obviously forgot the local treacherous climate. As the weather dramatically changed there was no use to spend our days in the rain. The coast forecast was a little bit better and we ended up at the Côte d'Albâtre which is a slightly longer drive than to the Ardennes.


It’s been a while I've been planning to explore the French Atlantic coast that I know only from my grandpa(’s postcards) who was travelling here in the 1920’s and 1930’s.




However, I was a bit concerned how will I possibly spend one week at the seaside. I can’t fish for crabs 24/7 like my boys!






But I must admit I was really charmed by the small fishing towns, white limestone cliffs, the greenish water... that all together created the most relaxing atmosphere.





The same way was the campsite we stayed at, located on top of a cliff overlooking the sea with only a short walk to the beach.
I should point out that the campground was actually kind of a little ‘Dutch oasis’. There were only one French and one Belgian couple, all the rest was Dutch; ‘except’ of us then!
Anyway, it was mostly (or only) tents and therefore nice and quiet.

Maarten had so much fun with the neighbor’s Noortje. Needles to mention, that saying goodbye was pretty hard afterward.







With some exceptions the local hiking wasn’t really adventurous and for that reason motivating Maarten to take to the trail wasn't easy.
Why would he walk up high along the cliffs when there were so many tempting tide pools down at the beach?!


But visiting places like the picturesque village of Veules-les-Roses enchanted even Maarten who compared it to Efteling.
Well, luckily it was considerably quieter but not less fairy-tale-like!





Only by accident we discovered the nearby Mers-les-Bains. With a necessary ice cream we strolled down the romantic sea-front promenade. The colorful interlaced Art Nouveau villas were beautifully restored and revealed the town’s "Belle époque" past as a fashionable seaside resort.


Here again I had to think about my grandfather sentimentally wishing to hear his adventures from this lovely region.

Torn between places

The incredible pain in my chest was still there when I woke up crying with this awful feeling of homesickness.
In my dream I was standing on a hill at sunset overlooking this beautiful landscape and asking my friend why did I leave California.

Ironically, I also used to experience these kind of sorrowful dreams while living in the States.
Then I was longing for "Europe".

Apparently I’m torn between all those places I lived. A part of every country is still in me as I left a part of me behind.

Beresterk knutselwerk (summer camp # 2)

"If mommy isn't capable of sewing an outfit I know how to make my own clothes!"

“No High Fives Allowed!”

"Koukni, mami, tady se nesmí dělat high five!"

Narozeniny

Sounds great and unbelievable at the same time! After some 20 years I celebrated my birthday with my mom today!
Nevertheless, I must admit that the confrontation with the past is painfully strong every now and then.

Comblain-au-Pont

The nature reserve Les Tartines features many rocks with really steep paths; you can climb into caves (if not bricked up) and crawl through natural tunnels. And there is the Ourthe River nearby where you can splash into on a hot summer day like this.






All that sounded like a perfect area for Maarten if only...







The blackberry stems and stinging nettles obscured the faint path down through the lush marshy valley and as we crossed the idyllic meadow we literally have to jump into the bushes in search for the trail.


Maarten was very upset whining and lamenting that the nettles were scraping his legs and causing terrible itching, blaming me all the time for choosing such an overgrown trail.




His mood improved considerably after munching on wild raspberries and he completely forgot about the itching when we finally got to the river.





The swimming joy didn’t last long though. Within no time all the cows in the meadow led by a big brown bull gathered together and claimed their drinking spot back.




Cows and ticks and traffic noise.
Solitude is hard to find.

In de moestuin (summer camp # 1)

Rich harvest after Maarten's first week at summer camp!

Côte d’Opale

I wasn’t too keen on continuing our camping adventures here in Europe. Yet Maarten kept insisting and he even packed his backpack every weekend and because the weather seemed to be stabile even in our region we decided to give it a try.

We booked a spot in a recommended campground. After we pitched our tent Rob went to pay the fee. That’s when we find out that we are somewhere else even though in the same village and on the same street. This campground appeared to be nice and peaceful, at least at first sight.
Never mind.

The heavy storm in the evening brought some refreshing air after a day of oppressive heat and humidity but I was a little worried that our tent won't cope with such a heavy downpour.

The message about the Dutch football victory over Brazil sent by a Brazilian friend brought some joy to this wet and somber evening.

Luckily it was dry again in the morning. The temperature didn't drop, although it stayed cloudy most of the day. Even at the beach was very warm with no wind at all.
We parked in the downtown of Wissant, a small town right in the middle of the two popular Capes - Cap Gris Nez and Cap Blanc Nez.


While admiring the impressive remnants of the “Atlantic Wall” built in the Second World War Maarten saw mainly the opportunity of crab fishing in the tidal pools around the concrete bunkers now gradually collapsed onto the wet beach.
I knew there was no use to persuade him to walk down the beach all the way to the Cap Griz Nez.


It was fun to see the way how the locals grow yummy mussels on wooden poles that are placed upright into the sea bed, les moules de bouchot.




I continued on my own in the southern direction. It was obvious that the sea level is rising again. I was lucky to be just on time to see the rusted hulk of a shipwreck now covered in seaweed and algae.





Meanwhile the boys were busy fishing for crabs and prawns. Maarten was literally shaking with excitement as he caught (and released) numerous prawns and crabs, some really big.







In the late afternoon with the rising tide the sea swallowed many of the concrete buildings together with the fun pools. At last the sun came out of the clouds making the wading even more fun.





We were chilling in the shade of one of the bunkers as my “romantic” husband remarked, “can you imagine, years ago, this beach was covered with the bodies of soldiers...”





On Sunday, despite the pretty sunshine the sea breeze was way too relentless.
Maarten couldn’t stay away from the tempting waves but even he admitted soon with blue lips and shivering that it was too cold to swim in the water.



With such a beautiful weather we could experience the stunning Côte d’Opale at its best.
The views from the headlands were breathtaking in all directions and the White Cliffs of Dover were clearly visible.
(Remaining me I haven’t been across the channel yet!!!)