A 452 km loop from Rouen
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Sea air, chalk cliffs and a sane overnight plan. Out of Rouen and back again: 452 km, roughly 7 h 48 in the saddle. It goes by way of Étretat cliffs, Honfleur overnight and Lyons-la-Forêt. It keeps to quiet secondary roads.
Rouen is the kind of city you do not mind stopping in. It sits on the Seine in Normandy, about an hour and a half from Paris on the motorway, and it has a lot of ground to cover for a town of its size: a great Gothic cathedral, a medieval centre of half-timbered houses, and a history that reaches from the Vikings to the Second World War. The cathedral's cast-iron spire, finished in the nineteenth century, is the tallest in France, and Claude Monet painted the west front in dozens of canvases at different hours, trying to catch the light on the stone. Stand in the square at sunset and you will understand the obsession.
This is also where Joan of Arc was tried and burned in 1431. A modern church on the old market square, the Place du Vieux-Marché, stands where she died, and a simple cross marks the spot. The Gros-Horloge, an astronomical clock set in an arch over a pedestrian street, dates from the fourteenth century and is as much a symbol of Rouen as the cathedral. The old streets around it are cobbled and mostly closed to traffic, so you will park and walk.
For a rider, Rouen is a good gate. It has fuel on every approach, and the food scene is solid. Normandy cooking leans on butter, cream, apples and the sea, so you can have duck done in the Rouen style, with a sauce made from its own blood and liver, which is rich and not for everyone, or go lighter with fish, moules or a tarte normande with a glass of cider. There are bakeries all through the centre if you need something simpler. The neighbouring towns of Bihorel and Mont-Saint-Aignan sit on the hill above the centre and have the university and more modern cafes.
The ride out toward the coast is the reason many people come. The roads follow the Seine through loops and chalk cliffs, and the Route des Abbayes, a signposted route along the river, passes the ruins of Jumièges and Saint-Wandrille, two great Benedictine abbeys. In the other direction, the plateau of the Pays de Caux runs to the sea, with fields, flint farmhouses and white cliffs at Étretat. In the city itself, watch for tram tracks, which are slippery when wet, and for the one-way systems around the river.
Étretat is a pebble beach with a view that has been painted, photographed and written about for nearly two centuries. On either side of the town, white chalk cliffs rise out of the Channel, and the sea has carved them into arches and a free-standing needle. The Falaise d'Aval, to the south, ends in a natural arch like an elephant's trunk dipping into the water, and the Aiguille stands off the shore as a spike of chalk, nearly a hundred metres tall. Monet painted these cliffs again and again, trying to catch the way the light changed the colour of the stone, and Courbet and Boudin did the same.
The place also belongs to fiction. The French writer Maurice Leblanc set an adventure of his gentleman thief Arsène Lupin in the hollow needle, and a small museum in the town plays with the legend. On the cliff top above the beach stands a memorial to the aviators Nungesser and Coli, who took off in 1927 in a plane called L'Oiseau Blanc to cross the Atlantic and were never seen again. It is a quiet, odd monument, and the view from it is worth the climb.
Riding here is mostly about the approach across the Pays de Caux, a high, flat plateau of wheat, flax and sugar beet, with farms hidden behind rows of beech trees and hamlets of brick and flint. The roads are straight in places and then dip suddenly toward the sea in short valleys. The surface is generally good, but the plateau is exposed, and wind can be strong, so crosswinds deserve respect. In summer, the town is crowded and parking is tight, so arrive early or late, and leave the bike where signs allow.
Fuel is not in the town itself in any quantity, and Fécamp, about thirteen kilometres to the north, is the nearest bigger town with stations, shops and a harbour. Fécamp is also known for its liqueur, Bénédictine, produced in a flamboyant palace, and for its history in cod fishing. Back in Étretat, cafés and crêperies line the streets near the beach, and fresh seafood is easy to find, though prices reflect the view.
Walk up the cliff path on the south side for the best look. The wind is strong, the gulls hang almost still in the air, and the sea is a pale green far below.
Beech trees are the point. The forest of Lyons, a few kilometres from the village, is one of the largest and finest beech woods in Europe, about ten thousand hectares of tall, silver-trunked trees that stand in cathedral rows, and in spring, when the leaves are just out, the light under them is green and gold. In autumn it turns copper. The roads that cross it are some of the best in Normandy for easy riding, with long, smooth curves, a good surface and little traffic, and the sense of riding through a vast, quiet hall is hard to beat.
The village of Lyons-la-Forêt sits in a clearing at about 150 metres, and it is one of the prettiest in Normandy, with half-timbered houses, brick and flint walls and an old covered market hall dating from the eighteenth century, in the middle of the square. The film director Claude Chabrol used it as the setting for his Madame Bovary in 1991, because it looks so much like the Normandy of Flaubert's novel. A few kilometres away, the abbey of Mortemer, with its ruins and small museum, is a quiet place to stop. The village is listed among the most beautiful in France, and in summer and on fine weekends it fills with visitors from Paris, so it is better on a weekday.
Lunch here is a pleasure. Normandy is dairy country, and the food is rich: Neufchâtel cheese, a soft, white-rinded cheese in a heart shape, cream sauces, apple tart and cider or the apple brandy called Calvados. Restaurants and tea rooms around the square serve lunch until about two, and you should book on Sundays.
The forest is also home to deer and wild boar, so be careful at dusk, and in wet weather the leaves can make bends slippery. The nights are cool and the air smells of damp wood. It is a very good place to turn for home.
Back at Rouen food. That is the ride.