Punch (99.1890)

88

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [August 23, 1890.

A VERY SHORT HOLIDAY.

(By One who enjoyed it.)

It having occurred to me that within a few days I might get an
entire change by visiting some thoroughly French seaside places on
the coast of Normandy, I started via. Southampton for Havre.

I started mysteriously at midnight. Lights down. We glided
out, almost sneaked out, as if ashamed of ourselves. I had pictured
to myself sitting out on deck, enjoying the lovely air and the pic-
turesque view. L'homme propose, la mer dispose. I retired early,
and enjoyed neither the lovely air nor the picturesque view. " The

rest is-silence," or as muoh silence as possible, and as much rest

as possible.

8'30 a.m.—Le Havre. Consul's chief attendant,—Lictor, I suppose,
the master being a consul,—sees me and my baggage through the
customs—"customs more honoured in the breach than the observ-
ance,"—and in five minutes I am—that is, we are, the pair of us—at
the Hotel Frascati, which, whether it be the best or not I cannot say,
is certainly the liveliest, and the only one with a covered terrace
facing the sea where you can breakfast, dine, and generally enjoy a
life which, for the time being, is worth living. Apropos of this ter-
race, I merely give the proprietor of Frascati a hint,—the onedrawback
to the comfort of dining or breakfasting in this upper terrace is the door
which communicates with the lower terrace, and through which every-
one is constantly passing. We know that II faut qu'une porte soit
ouverte oufermee. But this is opened and shut, or not shut, and, if
shut, more or less banged, every three minutes. If it isn't banged, it
bursts open of its own accord, and whacks the nearest person violently
on the back, or hits a table, and scatters the bottles, or, if not mis-
behaving itself in this way (which is only when rude Boreas is at his
rudest), it admits such a draught as causes bald-headed men to rage,
ladies to shiver, delicate persons to sneeze, and, finally, impels the
diners to raise such a clattering of knife-handles on the different

_.JU-JM---mm , .

The " Screen Scene," as played on a gusty night on the covered terrace
at Frascati's, Le Havre,
tables, _as if they were applauding a speech or a comic song. Then
the maitre-aVhotel rushes at the door and closes it violently,—only for
it to be re-opened a minute afterwards by a waiter or visitor enter-
ing from the terrace Delow! A mechanical contrivance and a light
screen would do away with the nuisance, for a nuisance it most un-
doubtedly is._ The perpetual banging causes headache, irritation,
and indigestion, and those who have suffered n'y reviendront pas,
like several Marlbrooks. Let the proprietor look to this, and, where
most things are done so well, and. not unreasonably, don't let there
be a Havre-and-Havre policy of hotel management. Allans !

I am writing this paper for the sake of those who have only a very
few days for a holiday, and like to make the most of it in the way
of thorough ohange. If you select Havre as your head-quarters for
Trouville, Cabourg, and Dives, you must he a good sailor, as you can
only reach these places by sea; and three-quarters of an hour bad
passage there, with the prospect of three-quarters of an hour worse
passage back at some inconvenient hour of the evening, destroys all
chance of enjoyment. If you're not a good sailor, remain on the
Havre side of the Seine, and there's plenty to be seen there to
occupy you from Saturday afternoon till Wednesday evening, when
The Wolf (what a name!) makes its return voyage to Southampton.

If the sea at Dives, in 1066 a.d., had been anything like what it
was at Havre the other day, when I wanted to cross over to Dives,
William the Conqueror would never have sailed from that place
for the invasion of England. Dull as he might have found Dives,
yet I am sure the Conquering Hero would have preferred returning
to Paris, to risking the discomfort of the crossing. By the way,
the appropriate station in Paris for Dives would be Saint-Lazaire.

Then there are Honfleur, and Harfleur, and most people know
Ste. Adresse and Etretat. The views and the drives are not equal to
those about Ilfracombe and Lynton, and Etretat itself is only a rather
inferior kind of Lynmouth. Those who want bracing won't select

either Ste. Adresse or Etretat or Havre for a prolonged stay. Taking
for granted the short-holiday-maker will visit all these places, let me
give him a hint for one day's enjoyment, for which, I fancy, I shall
earn his eternal gratitude. Order a carriage with two horses at

Havre, start at nine or 9 '30, and
drive to Etretat by way of Monti-
villiers. Stop at the Hotel de
Yieux Plats at Gonneville for
breakfast. Never will you have
seen a house so full of curiosities
of all sorts; the walls are covered
with clever sketches and paint-
ings by more or less well-known
artists, and the service of the
house is carried on by M. and
Mme. Aubourg, their son and
daughter, who, with the assist-
ance of a few neat-handed Phyl-
lises, do everything themselves
for their customers, and are at
once the best of cooks, somme-
liers, and waiters. So cheery, so
full of life and fun, so quick, so
attentive, serving you as if you
were the only visitor in the
place, though the little inn is
as full as it can be crammed, and
Mademoiselle qui sait attendre. there are fifty persons break-
fasting there at the same moment.
Every room being occupied, and every nook in the garden too,
we are accommodated with a rustic table in the " Grand Salon,"
part of which is screened off as a kind of bar. The " Grand Salon "
is also full of quaint pictures and eccentric curiosities ; it is cool and
airy, bright flowers are in the
windows, and the floor is sanded.
We had stopped here to refresh the
horses, intending to breakfast at
Etretat. But so delighted were we,
a party of " deux couverts," with
this good hotel, and still more with
the famille Aubourg, that, though
we had driven away, and were a
mile further on our road to Etretat,
we decided—and Counsellor Hunger
was our adviser too—on returning
to this house where we had noticed
a breakfast-table tastefully laid,
out for some expected visitors, and
had been in the kitchen, and with
our own eyes had seen, and with
our own noses had smelt the appe-
tising preparation for the parties (< „
already in possession. So we drove Jje "al Qemler •
back again rapidly, much to the delight of our coachman, who had be-
come very melancholy, and was evidently forming a very poor opinion
of persons who could lose the chance of a breakfast chez Aubourg.
;How pleased Mile Aubourg, the waitress, appeared to be when
we returned! All the family prepared
to kill the fatted calf figuratively, as
it took the shape of the sweetest and
freshest shrimps as hors d'ceuvre, and
then it became an omelette au lard
("0 La! ") absolutely unsurpassable,
and a poulet saute, which was about
the best that ever we tasted. A good
bottle of the ordinary generous, fruit,
and then a cup of recently roasted and
freshly ground coffee with a thimble-
ful of some special Normandy cognac,
—in which our cheery host joined us,
and we all drank one another's healths,
—completed as good a dejeuner as any
man or woman of simple tastes could
possibly desire.

Then the cheery son of the house,
dressed_ in a cook's cap and apron,
pauses in his work to join in our con-
versation. He tells us how he has
been in London, and can speak English,
and is enthusiastic about the satiric
journal which Mr. Punch publishes
weekly. M. Aubourg fits who is a
M. Aubourg fils comes out for a "^V^ a large scale,

blow. The Son and Air. ?f.M- Daubray of the Palais Eoyal,
informs me that he can play the horn
after the manner of the guards on the coaches starting from the