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19.05.08
Le Rozet to Barneville Carteret.
Tim.
We started out at about 08:30 and after some interesting twists down the green lanes on the GR223 we went over a headland to see a beach stretching to the vanishing point (well about 5 miles anyway) so we made excellent time along it on firm sand seeing maybe 3 people in 5 miles. As we approached the headland at the far end we struck inland to pick up the GR/ Way of St Michael into Barneville Carteret. Disaster struck soon after, we could have followed roads 3 km into BC but elected to follow the GR, it soon became obvious as one old fence gate followed another that it was heading for the end of the headland and then back again along the port and minor estuary of the stream on which the town is founded. Mistake 2, we tried to cut off the corner ending up after a slog through sand dunes in a holiday development and trying to cut downhill required us to exit to a road via the garden of a fortunately unoccupied house. Either neighbourhood watch does not exist in France or it is just not functioning in Barneville Carteret. We made our way to the portside to find the tide right out – this was fortunate for us as there is no bridge or artificial crossing to the other bank (the trip round would have added another 2 miles). At that state of tide the water was only ankle deep and the solution to me seemed obvious. Tony was most reluctant, the word nutter among others were used as I descended a ladder to the sand/mud of the harbour and changed boots for flipflops and paddled safely across, not to be out done he soon followed. About another couple of miles brought us to a campsite near the shore at about 14:30.
Tony
It was a lovely morning as we left the campsite, and the nice lady at the reception had even raised a Union Flag on one of the campsite flagpoles in honour of her UK visitors.
Just outside of Barneville Port I really didn’t believe it when Tim said he was going to wade across the river as I envisaged him disappearing up to his neck in quicksand. I stayed on the bank waiting to rush off to find a fireman or something (fat chance as all of France was at lunch), and felt faintly stupid when the water only came up to Tim’s ankles. Well we all live and learn.
After we arrived at the campsite we walked back into Barneville Carteret to find the nearest place to buy food as nothing seemed to be open in Barneville Plage this far out of main season. This added another 2 miles or so to the day but it seemed so much easier without a heavy pack on.