The D924 from Flers follows the route of the railway to Briouze. According to the novel The Paris Express, the train that ran on October 22nd, 1895, took twenty-one minutes to make the journey. For a steam train, that’s probably quite good going. But what I found particularly interesting in this chapter were some of the comments between the characters about the pros and cons of speed and the invasion of constant communications. I had to wonder what those same characters would say if they had been able to see into the 21st century with our high-speed electric trains, our social media and the World Wide Web!
Briouze is a small town with a population of around 1,500 people, which, like Flers, has been in steady decline since the mid-nineteen-seventies. The stop here in 1895 was unscheduled, and it was so that one of the deputies for Orne could join the train. However, rather than sitting in first with the other passengers, this deputy and his wife have their own custom-made carriage, which has to be hitched to the train immediately behind the existing first-class carriages. This causes the driver and his stoker some consternation. They are already six minutes late when they come to a stop. Their pay is affected if they arrive late in Paris, and the stoker has to maintain boiler pressure to ensure the extra weight can be managed effectively on the up and down slopes. All of which adds to the tension of the journey.
For my little foray around town, I leave the car in the central square dominated by the church dedicated to St Gervais and St Protais. A quick check of the entrances, and I find a door that is open. Built between 1080 and 1093 at the behest of Guillaume de Briouze, it is beautifully preserved. The stained-glass windows don’t look original to me, and, as a result, the interior feels very light and airy.
Outside again, and as the church clock strikes noon, I realise I need to explore the streets to find something for lunch. A few metres away, there is a boulangerie, and it’s tartelette-au-fraise for me. A bench in the shade and a half hour to contemplate the exterior of the church and listen to the silence of the place. Not a single car passes through. Only an elderly lady appears from a nearby house, a shopping basket hanging over her arm as she makes her way to the baker's. She’s probably been making that trip every day for decades.
Lunch over. I look for signs to the station, and that’s when the confusion begins. There are signs, it’s just that they both point in completely different directions. I follow the route to the left first and come across the railway tracks that used to be there! Now it’s a cycle path. But the old station or maybe the old signal box is now a lovely little three-story house. Madame sees me staring at her abode and asks me if I’m lost. I tell her I’m looking for the station. ‘It’s over there,’ she says, pointing down the cycle track. ‘The other side of town.’ I thank her and ask for a photo of her house. She looks bemused but nods her permission anyway.
A trot along the cycle path takes me past a grove of trees and brings me to a brand-new, all-modern, personless, fully functioning station with about 6 or 8 rail tracks in front of it. As I look down the line, I see something much more in keeping with late-nineteenth-century rail accessories, and I continue following the track. The original station, still intact, is now a hub for creatives and the use of the townspeople. I look around the car park, and considering the town is so quiet, there are far more cars parked here than I expected.
Retracing my steps, I follow the brown signs to the
château, which once belonged to Guillaume, the baron who magnanimously commissioned the church. I also discover that he accompanied his namesake to Britain in 1066 and was awarded land in England as a result. As for the
château, it is a building of modest proportions and grounds that now functions as the town hall.
I meander back to the car and note the modern juxtaposed with the old. Another town that was flattened in the forties…
There will be more from my journey following the Granville-Paris Express next month, so keep watching this space…
