Pip admires cattle in the field beyond the abbey - late July
Dry grass on the village green
Apple trees and dry grass
An ancient conifer and stone tables behind the Mairie
Late July and early August in Lonlay l'Abbaye was dry and relatively quiet. We were evading some very hot days predicted for Paris, and welcomed the milder temperatures and cloud cover that Normandy offered. Most days did not exceed 27 Celsius (about 81 Fahrenheit), and cooled off later at night.
The lack of recent rain was evident in the parched grasses and fields, but the village gardeners were keeping their glorious planters of flowers lush. And how special is this? It is as if someone were setting out bowls and vases of flowers all over your house every time you came home. A true "ville fleurie" - a city of flowers, loved and cared for, supported and encouraged, by each of its citizens.
Each morning, each evening, when I walk the cobbled streets of this small, yet miraculously flowered village with my ever-curious Pipkin, I am struck anew by the reverence of nature, the daily time-consuming effort to water and trim and care, and, as well, by the enduring commitment of the flinty 1300 hundred or so inhabitants who strive each day to preserve all that is good, all that is beautiful, all that is so unique and special about France - and I am moved.
The lack of recent rain was evident in the parched grasses and fields, but the village gardeners were keeping their glorious planters of flowers lush. And how special is this? It is as if someone were setting out bowls and vases of flowers all over your house every time you came home. A true "ville fleurie" - a city of flowers, loved and cared for, supported and encouraged, by each of its citizens.
Each morning, each evening, when I walk the cobbled streets of this small, yet miraculously flowered village with my ever-curious Pipkin, I am struck anew by the reverence of nature, the daily time-consuming effort to water and trim and care, and, as well, by the enduring commitment of the flinty 1300 hundred or so inhabitants who strive each day to preserve all that is good, all that is beautiful, all that is so unique and special about France - and I am moved.
Overcast days kept down the summer heat and prevented the watered flowers from burning up, even as some waterways slowed to a trickle.
We found ourselves in an in-between moment with regard to nearby entertainment. Had missed Tom Cruise in Top Gun - Maverick being shown at the village hall in early July, and we would not be staying for the Medieval Days in neighboring Domfront. Would have loved to attend both, but some things you can only find out about by staying local.
Homespun signs on the doors advised us of merchants' closing dates for their summer holidays. Fortunately, these small businesses that provide us with delicious food every time we visit were staggering their vacations.
We were able to have some wonderful lunches at the Relais de l'Abbaye before the owners took their August break. We said hello to the mayor there almost every day. He was wearing shorts and Hawaiian style shirts, visiting with locals in the front part of the restaurant, but we did not have a chance to speak with him ourselves this visit. A sign outside the Mairie indicated summer hours of half days.
The deli, Le Grenier à Sel, was open for just a few more days while we were there, so we bought out most of their spectacular cold salads before they closed near the end of July. Among others, the "piémontaise," a mayonnaise salad with potatoes, ham, cornichons, boiled eggs and tomatoes, is said to have Russian origins. They also make a coleslaw and a pickled beet salad that are both delectable.
We were able to have some wonderful lunches at the Relais de l'Abbaye before the owners took their August break. We said hello to the mayor there almost every day. He was wearing shorts and Hawaiian style shirts, visiting with locals in the front part of the restaurant, but we did not have a chance to speak with him ourselves this visit. A sign outside the Mairie indicated summer hours of half days.
The deli, Le Grenier à Sel, was open for just a few more days while we were there, so we bought out most of their spectacular cold salads before they closed near the end of July. Among others, the "piémontaise," a mayonnaise salad with potatoes, ham, cornichons, boiled eggs and tomatoes, is said to have Russian origins. They also make a coleslaw and a pickled beet salad that are both delectable.
Le Grenier à Sel delivery truck beside a Lonlay canal
Dates for closure by the local "traiteur" or deli shop, Le Grenier à Sel
No baker, no baguettes! Sign indicates the bakery's holiday closure dates.
The baker and his family were on holiday until the 9th of August. Bread being of historical importance, and no laughing matter in France (see "French Revolution 1789"), of course there were baguettes at the local supermarket to compensate for the closed bakery and the empty baguette machine.
The pizza TARDIS
The biggest revelation of our visit though, had to be the pizza machine that had suddenly appeared on the outskirts of the village next to the new butcher shop. Sitting like a little red TARDIS* just around the corner from the supermarket, it was a huge surprise to me. I was drawn to this contraption like a moth to the flame.
*You must Google it if you don't already know!
*You must Google it if you don't already know!
I was intrigued, and resistance was futile. Despite having other food in the house, I convinced Joseph that we had to try a couple of these pizzas (so I could play with the machine). The touchscreen was a bit temperamental. Though the display showed only one flavor to be sold out, I could not get the machine to register my choice of any of the plainer pizzas. So, we wound up with Paysanne (potatoes and bacon bits), and a decidedly unspicy Mexicaine.
"Pizza Lovers" - in English, no less!
If you want your pizza cold (frozen?), you can have it in 30 seconds. If you want it hot (well, warm), you need to allow another 3 minutes, and pay an extra 50 cents. The pizza arrives in the box through a slot like that in a bank cash dispenser machine. My friend Michele has visions of Mr. Bean hiding in the back of the machine throwing pizza dough and trying to keep up with the selections made! She also wants to know if there is a machine that dispenses a glass of wine to go with the pizzas. Not yet!
The Paysanne pizza - sauce, cheese, cooked potato slices and cooked lardons (bacon bits)
So, how was it? The Paysanne was edible, even tasty, if you can forgive the unusual combination. But the less said about the Mexicaine, the better. I will definitely try something more classic next time, like a plain Margherita pizza, if I can get Mr. Bean to make one for me.
Normandy clouds and sky over the Égrenne in the heart of the village
Cobblestones near the abbey
Statue of the Virgin Mary tucked into a wall on rue St Michel
Statue of the Virgin Mary overlooking the public school yard
With no set agenda, we were able to relax, meet with our building team about some additional jobs, and keep in touch with our new internet connection. I walked Pipkin around the village, noticing some religious statues I had missed before. And everywhere there were flowers being kept in sprightly condition by private citizens, as well as by the village gardeners.
A home with silhouette of girl watering her flowers
Three stories of flowers
Cottages and the small river channel
Flower pots near a storage room on the canal
A modern grey tower attached to old granite walls
Inside a private courtyard
A vegetable garden overlooking the village
Flowers on the old wooden bridge to the green
Four big planters perched on the rails of a bridge
A raft of flowers looking toward the town square
Geraniums in a private window along rue de Centre
A bouquet of wild flowers from our friend Nicole
Easy on the eyes, soft as a breeze, and balm to the soul, the summer days and glories pass so quickly. Next up: the village fête!
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