Come stroll with me ...

... through the town of Vernon, which sits on the Seine in the département of Eure.   Read on ...

Back in February, I brought you to this lovely little town, and I left you sitting on the bank of the river in the shade of a vast tree with a view of an ancient mill.  You can read that post Here. I'm back again today because there's more to see, and I'm heading straight into the centre of town.  It's a gentle 10-minute or so stroll.  From my shady spot, I take rue d'Albufera, which leads to rue Carnot.  At the junction, I take a left, and the road into the centre of town immediately narrows and is pedestrianised.  The Boulangerie et Pâtisserie on my left is where I bought the absolutely scrumptious amandine that I had for lunch.

If you follow the rue Carnot, you eventually come to Place Adolphe Barette, a wide square that houses the town hall and what is now the parish church of Notre-Dame.  The building of this magnificent edifice began in the 12th century and continued until the 1500s.  This church is considered to be one of the most beautiful remaining examples of medieval architecture in the whole of France.  The time taken to complete the church means that there are numerous styles of architecture encompassed within and without its walls.

The stunningly flamboyant rose window of the front facade dates from the 15th century. It sits above two galleries in the main body of the church. With the sun in exactly the right aspect, the colours of the window harlequin the floor of the nave.  The nave itself is also 15th century.  The altar and the transept are Romanesque in style, as can be seen from the steadfastly round arches.  The rest of the building is a stroll through Gothic fashion - Early, Flamboyant and Perpendicular - with its high pointed arches over windows, intricate masonry work and what some may consider to be overly ornamented carving.

The organ dates from the 17th century and has been heavily restored. But here in the main body of the church, the stained glass windows are not as expected. They are abstract and were installed in the 1970s to replace those that were destroyed by the blanket bombing of the 39/45 war in Europe. However, if you take a step to the right and go into the second chapel, you will find some of the original glass from the 16th century.

The newer windows may be fabulous examples of modern art, but give me the original medieval glass or the Burne-Jones examples from the 19th century anytime.  Such examples are much more in keeping with the style and decorative masonry that is on display here in Vernon.

Stepping outside into the sunshine again, it takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the brightness.  And in front of me is the magnificent town hall.  But I'll save that for another post.

If you enjoyed this post, come with me to the towns of Joinville  Argentan or Pont de l'Arche  Just click the links...

I'm reviewing France on Trial ...

... by Julian Jackson.  A fascinating read ...

One of the darkest periods in French history was that of the occupation during the 1939/45 war in Europe. The country was split in two with the northern and western seabords occupied right down to the rivers Loire and Cher which meet at Tours.  Paris was under the complete control of the occupying forces and the remainder of France was governed from Vichy.  This period is referred to as les années noires, the dark years.  It was during this time that the government of Vichy France came under the control of Marshal Pétain.

Henri Philippe Pétain, commonly known as Philippe, was born in April 1856 in Cauchy-à-la-Tour, Pas de Calais in northern France.  One of five children he was the only son of a farmer and his wife.  His mother died when he was only eighteen months old, and he was brought up by relatives when his father remarried.  He studied at a local catholic boarding school near St Omer and was admitted to the St-Cyr Military Academy in 1873, where he began his extensive career in the army.

He distinguished himself at the academy and on active service, often employing tactics that ran against the then current army policy and philosophy. By 1916 he commanded the second army at Verdun, became Commander-in-Chief of the whole of the French army in 1917, Minister for War in 1934, Deputy Prime Minister in May 1940 and finally Prime Minister of France in June 1940 – a post which he held for twenty-five days until he was succeeded by Pierre Laval and given the post of Chief of the French State on July 11th, 1940.  Following the liberation of France in 1944, Pétain and his Vichy government were relocated to Germany where they became a government in exile.

On July 23rd, 1945, Marshal Pétain was put on trial for treason.  The proceedings lasted twenty-four days, and this period is the central focus of Jackson’s book.

Meticulously researched this tome examines the lead up to war, the work of the Vichy government and the subsequent trial alongside the political and human fallout as a result.  Whilst there are tracts of speeches and arguments from the trial, the narrative flows well and with pace.  Jackson goes on to examine the post trail period and it is interesting to note how attitudes changed, but it must be accepted that polls ‘need to be treated sceptically’ as the author admits.

I found this exposé of French history fascinating, the story playing out like a slow but insistently burning ember to a bitter end. The notes on the text and the index of sources - both published and unpublished - are extensive and provide opportunities for further personal reading or research.

The 'bitter end' for Pétain, a First World War hero and lifelong military man, was a jury conviction for his crimes against France.  He was stripped of his military titles, his property confiscated and he was sentenced to death.  At the time he was eighty-nine years old. Because of his age, his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment, and he was incarcerated initially in the prison of Fort du Portalet in the Pyrénées and later Fort de Pierre-Levée on the Île de Ré, a small island off the coast of Charente-Maritime at La Rochelle.

In June 1951, because of ill health, Pétain’s sentence was commuted further to confinement in hospital, where he died on July 23rd, 1951 at the age of ninety-five.  He is buried in the local cemetry on the Île de Ré, his headstone plain with the minimum of information.  There is a tiny museum that must be the smallest in any country, and in my view, it’s more of a shrine than a historical display of a very different and difficult time in French history.  The visitor’s book shows that even in death, Pétain still divides opinion as he did in life and during his trial.

If you enjoyed this review, you might also like to hear about Metropolitain, a history of the Paris Metro, The Vanished Collection, about the recovery of stolen art or Cursed Bread, a fiction based on a real mass poisoning.

Today it is William Shakespeare's birthday ....

... and I'm celebrating the Bard with one of my favourite speeches from one of my best-loved characters from a play I have appeared in twice, A Midsummer Night's Dream ...   

   

     If we shadows have offended,

     Think but this, and all is mended,

     That you have but slumber'd here
     While these visions did appear.
     And this weak and idle theme,
     No more yielding but a dream,
     Gentles, do not reprehend:
     If you pardon, we will mend:
     And, as I am an honest Puck,
     If we have unearned luck
     Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
     We will make amends ere long;
     Else the Puck a liar call;
     So, good night unto you all.
     Give me your hands, if we be friends,
     And Robin shall restore amends.
     

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck

Illustration by Owensart, Pixabay

Something murderous this way comes ...

 ... Promoting Yorkshire Authors is putting together a festival of crime in July.  Read on for more intriguing details ...

I am very pleased to tell you that a brand new festival of crime will be launched in July. Murder Most Yorkshire is coming to Harrogate on July 4th. Throughout that weekend, there will be author interviews, author discussion panels, book signings, and lots, lots more.

Events will be taking place at various venues across town.  There will be an opportunity for tea and cake, as well as listening to talks about crime, discussions about murder, readings from top-notch mystery novels, and a chance to speak to attending authors.

During that weekend, I will be joined by Gianetta Murray - author of a Supernatural Shindig which was released earlier this year and Moved to Murder, a cosy crime due to be released in June.

Anne Wedgwood will also be joining the panel.  Anne is the author of The Botanist, The Soloist and The Narcissist.  

The fourth and final member of our panel will be writer and Books and Beverages Presenter Sue Williams.  Sue will put the rest of us through our paces with her questions as she tries to keep us in order and on point!  We will all be at Bilton Library on Friday, July 5th, to discuss cosy crime, our books and answer questions.

I will also be talking to another panel of authors during that Crime Fest.  Details are still being agreed.  The authors involved in this second panel write across different genres of crime.  I'm really looking forward to meeting them and asking them all about their work.  More details will be added here once I have them.    

The full programme for the whole festival from July 4th to July 7th will be released in the coming weeks.  I will gradually let you know about the attendees, interviewees, and hosts across all of my social media.  Can't wait to be there!

So please do come along and join us.

For those who like to dabble with writing, here is a second opportunity not to be missed.  Promoting Yorkshire Authors are putting together an anthology of work celebrating crime.  If you have a short story (3500 words or less), a piece of flash fiction (100 words or less) or a piece of poetry (40 lines or less), then we would like to hear from you.  Check out the QR code on the left to get more details.

The deadline for submissions to the anthology has been extended to May 15th

... keep watching this space and checking your social media for updates, and get writing and submit that piece of fiction or poetry.

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I'm Off My Beaten Track in Norway...

Old property in the Hanseatic Quarter

.. today.  Come and stroll with me as I meander through the city of Bergen using my travel journal, Norway Notes, as my guide...

The city of Bergen is the second largest after Oslo, with a population of around 290,000.  By comparison, the second largest city in England is Birmingham, with a population of 1.1 million.  As I meander from the dock where our Captain has parked the boat, I see vast mountains as a backdrop to an urban landscape that reminds me of Portsmouth or Brighton, both of which have comparable numbers of inhabitants and equally long histories.

The earliest indications of settlement in this location date from the start of the 11th century, and trading has been the core of life here since that time.  The city was founded by King Olav in 1070.  It became Norway’s capital city in the 13th century.  It was towards the end of that century that Bergen then became the centre for the Hanseatic League – a medieval commercial group of Guilds that traded across the northern part of Europe.  In many respects, they were an early blueprint for the 17th Century Dutch East India Company.

From the ship, it’s about a twenty-minute walk to Bryggen.  The road runs alongside the inlet that forms the original harbour, and the old wooden buildings on the quay are what remains of the original warehouses and trading rooms of the league.  Established in Germany in the 12th Century, the league gradually extended its reach for trade and commerce across most of northern Europe.  They traded and moved raw materials – wool, leather, wood and other goods – between ports and towns using a variety of sailing vessels, some suitable to navigate the river system as well as much larger ocean-going ships.

As I stroll along the quay, the sounds ring out from the traffic, the people, and the seabirds. Six hundred years ago, this dock area and port would have been full of mast-rigged ships, lighters to move stock and goods from the port side to the ship and back, the constant rapping of rigging, and the noise of men at work on the vessels either stowing or moving cargo, mending equipment and making necessary repairs by hand.  It would have been a hive of activity.

Today, things are much more sedate.  Even the large fish market is a refined and quieter affair.  As I slowly move through the stalls, I’m offered shellfish to try.  I’m shown a substantial side of tuna.  On another stall, there are lobster and langoustine.  I don’t know any of the local names, and some of the produce I’ve never seen on a market in England or France.  But there is one stall that stops me dead in my tracks.  The man behind the counter is clearly very proud of his stock of whale meat.  I’m appalled that it is there and that it’s for sale.  Despite his entreaties to buy, I walk away.

Most of the shipping in this area of the port is now for leisure.  There are any number of yachts and catamarans tied up.  But the real history is in the quay-side buildings and a small bulbous monument that sits on one of the jetties.  As I leave the market I can make my way along the Shetlands-Larssen Brygge that runs parallel to the main quay.  About three-quarters of the way along is a round stone memorial.  On there are the names of all the 515 local sailors who lost their lives in the 1939/45 conflict.

More modern property beside the inlet

There’s much more history to be mined here, and I will be back with more from my Norway Notes next month…

I'm Off My Beaten Track in Cairo...

... as I come to the end of my notes from my Egypt Journal. Read on as I visit the Coptic churches and finally take the plane home ...

FINAL TOUR

Breakfast and then the final tour of the holiday: the Coptic churches of old Cairo and a bus to Misr al - Qadimah in the old quarter of the city.  Some fascinating and early orthodox Christian monuments, along with the remains of the fortress of Babylon and other leftover medieval structures. The Coptic Museum is a beautiful eastern building with large, wide doorways, high ceilings and windows covered with arabesque woodwork. Inside the rooms have been constructed in order to precisely fit the carved wooden porticos, ceilings and pillars that have been removed from local coptic houses in order to preserve them. The decoration is rich and colourful and highly detailed.  All very interesting, but it's the next stop that I'm eager to get to.

Back to the coach and a trip to see the production of pots from local clay. The coach threaded its way through the local market. It was a hive of industry and trade. There were animals and carts, traffic and people everywhere.

Eventually, the coach drew up at the end of a street across from a large building with row upon row of terracotta pots of all shapes and sizes. A short walk took us from the bus to the centre of the area.

The site was a mass of mud brick huts of various sizes, some were the kilns to bake the clay and some were the workshops and some were the houses of the families who lived here. There were large slurry pits containing the clay needed to make the pots. The clay was scooped out of the pits with large buckets and then it was piled into a corner of one of the workshops. Chunks were cut from it as required. Children were the custodians of the clay and used either their hands or feet to separate a piece large enough for the adults to work on. The clay was thrown on a turntable that was powered by the potters feet. Each pot was then stacked on the floor to dry, which would take about 2 or 3 days. Then the dry pots were put into the kiln. Each kiln was a beehive-shaped building made of mud brick. There was an extension at the back with a pit underneath to hold the fire. Every inch of space in the kiln was filled by a pot of one size or another and then the front of the kiln was sealed with more mud bricks. The fire was made from sun dried cane leaves and maize leaves. These were piled in numerous spots throughout the area. The fire was fed constantly for about a week and then it was left for another 5 to 7 days to die and cool. When the kiln was cool the mud bricks were removed and the pots left in the sun for a while before being sold. This is pharaonic production in a modern century.  Take away the potter's modern watch, and you could have slipped through time for more than two thousand years...

TRAVELLERS HOMEWARD BOUND

At five-forty-five, I got up to find the Nile swathed in a thin fog. The sun was a golden-red disk just above the horizon. I dressed, put the last few items in the suitcase, and left it in the hallway for the porters to collect. I had a quick breakfast, and then I went down to the foyer to take the coach to the airport.

The city looked grey and empty as we drove through it, and for the first time since arriving, I realised that it was quiet. There were no car horns or engines—only the early morning call to prayer. It was cool, and I detected a distinct sharpness in the air.

The plane was almost empty. Our party provided the majority of the passengers. Having taken off, I was able to occupy an empty window seat. I watched the ground below us change from urban grey to dusky green to sandy yellow. Eventually, the sandy yellow gave way to the white surf and the bright blue Mediterranean. And Egypt was gone...

... just after leaving London by train, it started to rain. As the first drops appeared on the windows, I remember being amazed and feeling gratified by the sight.  Living here in the UK, I don't think I have ever been so happy to see rain as I was that day.

If you've only just found my Egypt posts, don't worry, you can catch up on all the others by clicking the following links Cairo Giza Solar Sailing Tell-el-Amarna Assiut  Abu Simbel Deir-El-Bahri Sailing  Aswan and Egypt generally.

I’m standing up for …

… Hot Cross Buns.  I feel that something has to be said.  Read on …

I’m not running with my planned post for today.  It’s not usual for me to write the kind of post I am setting out here today, either.  But there are times when even I feel that I must speak.  No matter how few or how many people are listening, I just have to say something.

I was in an outlet of that Giant European Supermarket (GES) the other day and picked up one of their leaflets detailing what special treats and offers were coming up in the next week.  I flicked through the leaflet to find they were running with the entreaty ‘Banish Basic Buns’.  Great marketing slogan, I thought.  Alliteration will always capture the eye and the mind, I said to myself.  But then I looked at the picture immediately above the slogan.  The photo showed a toasted Hot Cross Bun (HCB) slathered with butter.  The full horror of the meaning of that slogan suddenly became clear. Alongside the traditional Hot Cross Bun were others with white chocolate and red berries, then one with orange segments and dark chocolate.  There were more, but I just could not look any further.  Although not explicitly stated, the inference was absolutely and horrifically clear.

So, Mr GES, there are a few things that I would like to point out.  Firstly, according to my dictionary – the OED (that’s the Oxford English Dictionary, Mr GES, just in case you are unaware), the word basic means ‘forming an essential foundation or starting point’.  A basic item is something that is ‘fundamental.’  As the HCB is a fruited and spiced piece of dough, I’m afraid I have to disagree with your marketeer who designated it as ‘basic.’  Removing the spices and fruit without replacing them with something else would return the dough to its basic state.  So, as you seek to ‘Banish Basic Buns,’ I am obliged to ask if you have removed every single plain dough bread cake in your stores yet?  After all, to achieve your marketeer’s ultimate goal, that is what you would need to do, otherwise accusations of hypocrisy could be levelled.

Secondly, what is so wrong with the HCB that you feel it needs to have other ingredients added or spread on it?  Are you purchasing your HCBs from the right supplier, Mr GES?  If not, then perhaps your buyer needs encouragement to shop around or possibly even needs to be replaced with someone who fully understands the combination of spice and fruit that makes a HCB the fabulous treat that it really is.

Lastly, Mr GES, are you aware of the historical significance of this spicey little British bun? Spiced and fruited breads/cakes have been around for millennia in various guises worldwide. The earliest mentions of what we now call a HCB here in the UK date from the Middle Ages. Later, in the 16th century, the HCB and other spiced breads were restricted for sale by decree. Records from the 18th century relate to these tasty little sweetmeats, along with a rhyme that appeared in a London almanac as early as the 1730s.

So, Mr GES, in attempting to ‘banish’ the humble HCB in its traditional form, you are trying to succeed where centuries of others have failed.  In attempting to banish the HCB, you are making an assault on a little piece of British history and tradition.  How would you feel if I came to your country of origin and started campaigning for the eradication of the traditional sweetmeats that your fellow citizens have enjoyed for centuries? Would you just let that happen?

Just to be clear, Mr GES, I want to say that I am standing firmly and resolutely for the HCB in its traditional and utterly non-basic form.  I genuinely hope that other shoppers recognise that in chipping away at our HCBs, you are taking an axe to a part of our culinary history.

... just in case you were wondering, Mr Giant European Supermarket, no, I did not get the buns in the picture above from your outlet!

Addendum...

I am appalled to discover today that there is such a thing as a 'Hot Tick Bun' that has been developed by a frozen food store that has been in existence here in the UK since 1970.  Apparently, following a survey, a fifth (that's 20%) of their customers said they found the intersecting flour and water lines on Hot Cross buns offensive.  Really?!  So Mr Frozen Foods from the Seventies, what about the remaining 80% of your customers surveyed?  The inference is that they were happy with said intersecting lines, or at the very least had no view one way or the other.  Perhaps, even more radically, they just liked the buns as they are.

So, just to reiterate, a Hot Tick Bun is not a Hot Cross Bun.  Equally, a white chocolate and berries or orange and dark chocolate bun are not traditional Hot Cross Buns.  They, along with their savoury counterparts - and yes I know, how is it possible to have a Hot Cross Bun made with Chorizo and cheese? - are Not Cross Buns, so please call them something else and stop messing with our traditional and absolutely gorgeously spiced and fruited bun that has a culinary history that is more than 600 years old.