Outing . uer, which has a history that runsback to the time of the Conquest, was agreat commercial center in the years nowgrown musty. But the sea was unkindand gradually filled its harbor so that onlythe smaller boats can reach the wharves,and its rival, Havre, seven miles across theestuary of the Seine, has stolen away itscommerce, leaving it a haunt of ancientpeace, glorying in a past which is deadand gone. Like all these Normandy and Brittanytowns upon the sea, Honfluer maintains itsfishing industry and the return each even-ing of its fleet of quaint boats, each ladenwith its shining cargo
Outing . uer, which has a history that runsback to the time of the Conquest, was agreat commercial center in the years nowgrown musty. But the sea was unkindand gradually filled its harbor so that onlythe smaller boats can reach the wharves,and its rival, Havre, seven miles across theestuary of the Seine, has stolen away itscommerce, leaving it a haunt of ancientpeace, glorying in a past which is deadand gone. Like all these Normandy and Brittanytowns upon the sea, Honfluer maintains itsfishing industry and the return each even-ing of its fleet of quaint boats, each ladenwith its shining cargo, is a picture full ofkeen human interest and romance. Thecoming of the fleet awakens the town,which an hour before was apparentlylazily idling the afternoon away, into thekeenest activity. Every one seems to bealert and the human tide sets for the beachas the boats with bright-hued sails filled,slide easily up the sloping sands. Oncegrounded they are surrounded by thewomen, young and old, rugged, strong-. he narrow village streets make passing difficult. i5o The Outing Magazine limbed and serious, who with their basketsquickly filled start across the wide-reachingbeach for the packing houses from whichthe catch is shipped to the markets ofParis and London. The streets of Normandy towns, especi-ally those along its coast, are not laid outfor motor thoroughfares. Those whichlead to the sea are steep and withoutmethod or width and many of them endabruptly in a series of stone steps. Thelateral ones wind in every direction, andwe went through several in some of thesmall towns so narrow that the gables ofthe houses lean toward each other untilthey almost meet, while people had to stepinto doorways to let our car pass. Villerville was a hopeless tangle to us,that is the old town where the Inn de laPlage which we sought was located, andwe were just about to give up finding itwhen we discovered a lady and a gentle-man sipping a liqueur in front of a little,unpretentious cafe. As if by
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
