Good morning, Le Havre

Morning in Le Havre was actually not all that great. The seagulls, oh the noisy, noisy bastards.

Anyway, our first visit of the day was to St. Joseph's Church, designed by August Perret, chief architect for the reconstruction of Le Havre after the World War II bombings. It was... interesting, very modern, if a tad too much like entering a giant parking lot.

After the church we walked up to the Hanging Gardens, situated inside what used to be the Fort of Sainte-Adresse. We enjoyed some views from the ramparts and walked around the gardens and greenhouses. Even if you have no interest in all the greenery, I recommend going there to EAT. The charming teahouse is more evidence of the French knowing everything about toast. Even if we savages seemingly know nothing of French culinary practice. My friend ordered a cheese plate and the waitress asked if we'd like it with or after the meal. "Could we have it as an entrée?" "Suuu-re, if you like." The waitress went to the back to communicate with the kitchen. "...and a cheese plate... as an entrée." — "What!?"

After our backwards eating, we exited through the rose gardens and made our way to a cliff overlooking the English Channel. Next we walked back down to the city and—surprise, surprise—learnt some things on the beachfront.

The somewhat dreary weather called for a bit of hotel-time recharging. Back on the streets before dinner, we passed by some more landmarks. The Volcano struck us as a bit odd.

For dinner we ate more mussels than should be allowed. But the full-for-days feeling was good, because the next day we went for more of an all-day-picnic vibe. More about that next time.