St. Ceneri-le-Gerai, Granvile

As I had expected, there were, in fact, no artists displaying their works on the street of St. Ceneri-le-Gerai but the hour and a half trip was worth it just because of the beauty of the town--and the prospect for an art fair in the near future.

St. Ceneri claims a number of artists now and in the past and you can see why.  This view alone is just calling out for a painting.

The Sarthe River flows around and through the town.

And looks very calm and narrow for much of the time.

I mention that because St. Ceneri was supposed to have had three miracles while in the area.  One was that he was able to cross the Sarthe River with the help of God.  I have to say, it does not look that hard but maybe the river was different in his time.

The center of the very small town is very lovely, with a road made of paving stones and a number of restaurants and cafes.

Quite a few of the commercial places in town were closed for vacation, including this one.

But the shop at the top of these stairs was open--though no one was actually minding the store while I was there.

The things in the store were quite expensive, I thought.  Forty Euros for a rather amateurish painting on a small piece of plywood?

I walked up to the church in the first photo above and found it open. Inside it was very old except for some very modern sculptures of the stations of the cross.

There were hints that the interior had once been much more ornate.

The altar looked to be in better repair.

There was also a notice of an art exhibition to be held next week in the church.  I'm hoping to make it back for that.

After I left the church

I walked down toward a small chapel that has also apparently been the subject of a number of paintings by local artists.

I walked back toward the center of town on a very lovely street.

Where I saw these kittens--or is it a mother and her kitten playing.

When I got to the center I thought I might try to see whether there were in fact artists who sometimes sold their works here.  But my two attempts to ask ended badly.  I asked the lady who owned a corner bar in town whether she spoke English.  She said something that I took to be yes, but then was mystified by my question.  She directed me to the restaurant down the street, but I could not tell whether she thought I was ordering something she did not have--or if the person at the restaurant could answer my question.

When I got to the restaurant the fellow brushed me off with a "non" when I asked about English and then asked me if I was going to eat.  I said I just wanted a glass of wine and when I sat down he basically ignored me.  

I don't think I am asking for this kind of treatment.  I have tried the totally flummoxed, "I'm throwing myself at your mercy" approach, the "I'm so sorry I don't speak French, do you speak English?" approach, the going right into English approach, but often I find people are rude, dismissive or annoyed by my questions. I suppose it could be because I am an older woman alone.  I don't think they particularly like English speakers here and certainly do not offer a warm welcome to tourists--even at tourist offices.  There are certainly exceptions, but in general the French are not very friendly--at least in my experience.

Yesterday I drove to Ganville, another coastal resort town.  I have been looking into the art of the area and found that a lot of the museums in Normandy are having special shows of Impressionists.  Granville's contribution was an exhibit of Dior gowns that showed the influence of the impressionist painters.  

The exhibit was held at the home of Christian Dior, now a museum.  The home was actually owned by his parents, so I'm thinking he grew up in a rather privileged environment.  The place sits on a cliff over the sea and is surrounded by beautiful gardens.

I can understand creating things of beauty if you are able to sit in places like this...

and see views like this.

The last two pictures were taken through glass panels meant to prevent you from ending up on the beach below.

The exhibition itself was great.  Before I realized you were not able to take pictures inside I did snap this of the garden room.  Just lovely.  I want to live there.

I got back in my car and drove down to the center of Granville.  It looked to be fairly old.

And very busy.

I sat down at a sidewalk restaurant and had a pizza and a glass of wine and noticed this board across the street.  

It's only the second time I have seen Japanese on a sign here.  The other time was in Mont Saint Michel, which is not too far from Granville.

I went looking for an ice cream--but even those stores close for the afternoon siesta.  I did come across the town casino, right on the beach.

The beach here is not as accessible as it was in towns like Houlgate and Deauville.  It seems a lot dirtier, as in as much dirt as sand, and wilder.

But there were a few people on the beach and even a person doing laps in what I assume is a salt water swimming pool, right in the middle of the beach.

Walking back to my car, I saw this Irish import shop....

And an art gallery that was either mocking or touting the almighty US dollar.

There is a port at Granville, which looks to be more about fishing than yachting.

I thought there might be a better beach that people were using so I tried to get that information from the tourist office, which was less than helpful.  Just coming off a two-hour break between 12:30 and 2:30PM, the fellow there still seemed to be much more interested in his paperwork than in helping the people who were visiting the office.  When I asked him for a map of Granville, he gave me one and pointed out where we were so fast that I had to ask again.  When  I asked what was on the other side of town, thinking there might be other beaches, he looked at me quizzically and said it was the way to the next town. Are there beaches?, I asked.  Well yes, he said, in a way that made me think that only the homeless might be interested in them.  They are probably lovely, but after that encounter, I decided to go home.

I have to say that the people in the restaurant where I ate were extremely nice.  It was just the tourist guy that gave me a bad taste for what I otherwise thought was a beautiful place.