Once I was on holiday in Honfleur and became bewitched by the place. As I walked among the tall buildings feelings of ancient times seeped through me.
It was a painter’s dream: the striking colours of the narrow houses and the beautiful boats moored in a fishing harbour that I bet could tell a tale.
Wandering the narrow cobble streets I found farmers in the market selling their wares: lettuce as large and green as the fields they came from; onions - white and red with garlic nestling by them; cheese of all kinds which filled my senses with their aroma and apples galore used for making the finest cider - calvados from the best apples in France.
Near by a boulangerie was selling fresh baked bread. I bought bread and cheese and sat on the sea wall, having my lunch, as I watched the world pass by.
I became aware of a tall building behind the farmers’ stalls: Sainte-Catherine’s Church was gazing down at me. It was made entirely of wood, except for the foundations and the plaster-covered bricks which filled the spaces between the wooden uprights. I was drawn to its large door; gently I opened it and ambled inside. I gazed around and the stillness of the church engulfed me. Music filtered through the space and the left side of the church was ablaze with candles of all sizes burning brightly. I walked across and I picked a candle of blue with the picture of Sainte-Catherine. My thoughts went to my family and the people of the world as I lit the candle. A last look; my eyes were drawn to the roof, it looked like the upturned hull of a boat. There was peace within those walls.
I returned to the harbour and sat at one of the café’s. I felt enchanted by what I had found and seen in Honfleur
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