Winter at Mont Saint-Michel

Spring plans from a distance and a Letter from Henry

Looking down at the beach from the Mont Saint-Michel, seagulls nesting

Chères amies, chers amis,

Though far way in Northwest Argentina, in the high desert country of hidden river valleys and vast blue skies, Courtomer is not forgotten. Internet functions here on a satellite connection.

Monsieur Xavier has sent plans of the grounds around the Chateau, with new water and electric lines neatly drawn with the aid of ruler and colored pen, for improving the clarity of our halting, voice-over-internet conversations.

There will be gentle lights bathing the footpath along the moat to the Orangerie. Updated fiber optic cable to improve the wifi in the Chateau and its outbuildings. And light, heat and running hot and cold water in our petite maison in the stable block. And we are putting points d’eau – water lines and hose-bibs – to the gardens and plantations in the park.

The “points d’eau” have been a preoccupation of Monsieur Martyn, our gardener. He joined us last year, with a brief to conjure lovely colors, luxuriant foliage, and interesting patterns in the garden beds. Now, he hovers over his young plants, poking the ground to test proper humidity and worrying about irrigation. He is equally concerned about the more mature garden beds, which he has been rearranging and improving. And as for the lemon trees…he will only shake his head and insist that they be re-planted as soon as possible in proper caisses d’oranger. These have been ordered from an artisan who makes them according to the design of the immortal Le Nôtre, head gardener to Louis XIV at Versailles.

Monsieur Martyn, it must be noted, is not French. He is an Englishman who has gardened in France for 20 years. And in this, he is akin to many of France’s most notable gardeners, who brought their skills and horticultural knowledge from abroad – Italy, Germany, Holland, as well as the British isles – to the chateaux and parks of France.

Meanwhile, our son Henry spent a recent weekend at Courtomer. With his chère amie, whose photographs embellish this Letter, he visited Mont Saint-Michel. Henry’s Letter is below…

A très bientôt,

Elisabeth

Ma chère petite Mère,

We set out to Mont Saint-Michel on a sunny late winter’s day… about a two-hour drive from the château. With a wide-open day on the weekend… it was a perfect time for a trip to one of the biggest landmarks in France. As always, in Normandy, the drive took us through green pastures and rolling hills…gently straight to the West of Courtomer.

Suddenly, the rock jutting out of the sea. With the monastery at its peak and the medieval town below, we saw the mount above the tree line in the distance. You can see the Mont Saint-Michel from very far away… which perhaps made it one of the biggest pilgrimage sites of the 11th century, just as William was gathering his armada to sail for Hastings in 1066.

Most of the tourists and pilgrims haven’t come back yet. Still, a fair amount of people seem to have returned. There are students and associations, carrying their own sleeping mats and backpacks on their way to a hostel. As well as a handful of international visitors, snapping lots of pictures. Some of the narrow streets at the entrance even struggled to hold the many visitors.

We were lucky. There hadn’t been rain for a while. And the tide had slinked off into the deeper sea, for at least enough time to let the sand and clay dry out. We walked around the rock of the Mount, as if on a beach. At its back, the rock hosts a hidden forest climbing up the cliffs towards the monastery. High above, a few barely-seen figures walked along the surrounding walls at the peak of the Mount.

We came across a stone chapel as we explored. It is only visible to walkers at low tide, or from a boat at sea, but not from the main part of the town or the land. A stone staircase leads up to closed doors. A handful of groups came through…climbed the steps and rested in front of the chapel.

This is called the Chapel of Saint Aubert. According to the legend, the bishop of Avranches, who founded the first Monastery of Saint Michel on the Mount, in 709, dislodged an old pagan rock - perhaps a menhir - in order to build the monastery. It fell at the site of the chapel.

Thanks to the luck of nature and the weather…we saw the Mount under a new light as we walked around the small island, while still keeping our feet dry.

We had already been inside the Monastery on an earlier visit. So instead, we walked around the outer ramparts and fortified towers. The heavy walls around the Monastery date from between the Hundred Years War, the mid-14th century to the 16th century, and were built by the French. The English had a fort at the nearby rock of Tombelaine, just two miles away. Despite a siege of the Mount in 1424, it never fell to the enemy!

Tourists walked along the ramparts around us… and peered down over the slate and wooden roofs of the medieval town. Many stopped and stared at the seagulls nesting on tops of the handful of chimneys.

Perhaps it was the steady flow of pilgrims through the centuries…carrying away the products of a few taverns and artisans on their routes of return….the Mount has spawned several of the most well-known food brands in France. You’ll see signs for the Auberge de la Mère Poulard scattered throughout the town. It is a restaurant, known for a kind of omelet with a puffy, creamy texture. Mère (Mother) Anne Poulard came to Mont Saint-Michel as cook for the architect in charge of restoring the Mount for the Monuments historiques of France, in 1872. She married and with her husband opened an inn a year later. Her buttery, wholesome cookery became a national reference.

“It wasn’t so much what now appears to us as the almost absurd lavishness of the menu which made Madame Poulard [above]…celebrated throughout France, it was the exquisite lightness and beauty of the omelettes…” wrote Elizabeth David in “An Omelet and a Glass of Wine.”

La Mère Poulard brand now includes French butter cookies, from galettes – flat – to sablés – thick shortbread, with a sandy texture, to jams and apple juice.

The Mount has also given its name to another famous brand of French shortbread cookies, the Saint-Michel. These first appeared in 1905, when a local baker began selling them from his shop for the fashionable “dames de Paris” who had come to inhale the seaside air. Today they’ve become the brand Saint-Michel Biscuits.

As we drove away from the Mount, we stopped off at a Saint-Michel and Bonne Maman store just a few minutes from the town center. Bonne Maman, of course, is famous for jams. Aside from pound cake and biscuits, we bought a bottle of shortbread-flavored liqueur. It was a sweet and creamy drink… a lot like Bailey’s. 

We enjoyed it the next day, back in Paris with family and friends.

Ton fils,

Henry

Henry beside the Mont, preparing to walk around it at low tide.

P.S. As always, Heather and Beatrice (info@chateaudecourtomer.com and +33 (0) 6 49 12 87 98) will be happy to help you reserve your holiday or special gathering at the Farmhouse or the Chateau. They can recommend and help with local visits and tours, too. We still have a few openings for this year and are taking bookings through 2024. Please feel free to call or write us.