Wife Endorsed?…Oui Oui!

   God surprises us with unexpected little extras sprinkled throughout our lives. Last week, a “sprinkle” came down as strong as a sudden summer drench. Unexpectedly, The Minister of Tourism postponed an invitation to visit St. Petersburg, Russia. This hampered “plan number one” which included developing a unique (and perhaps romantic) entree into the former Russian Republic for our clients. Fortunately, I was blessed to have “contingency plan number two”.
   Few Americans know very much about shooting and fishing on the Normandy coast of France. Now we do, and without reservation we can report, from personal observation, that some of the most pleasing of the countryside sports we all enjoy so much can be found in this beautiful region of France only a few hours drive from Paris. Idyllic brown trout angling with the dry fly on lovely pastoral streams, traditional hunting (ancient-dating back to the time of Charlemagne when he established the lieutenant de Louvetier to manage the marauding herds of wolves), “le Chasse” of the roe deer, stag or boar, walk up shooting for French or redleg partridges over griffons or drathers; formal and elegant driven game shooting in the highest sense of the tradition are all within your reach. But you begin to realize that all of this is secondary to the French sportsman… FOOD IS FIRST AND FOREMOST. And Normandy is the place for it. Famous for their rich Normandy dishes; heavy with cream, butter and cheese (Camembert) of the region, mollea (mussels) marinier, trout a la Normandy, the rich (and Strong) Calvados brandy from the apples of the province, fresh foi gras downed with crisp (just sweet enough) sauternes, and vegetables and herbs and baggets picked or baked this morning.

   Imagine a morning on a trout stream, running clear and pure- - -the bank dappled with the odd curious Charlais heifer, the sky a Carolina blue spotted with puffs of cotton, rolling your number 20 gray dun just under the lush meadow grasses at water’s edge to the ever lurking “Monsieur brown” - to be followed by your picnic: rattatouie, doube of venison and rabbit in red wine marinade, a pate of game and aspic to spread on very fresh french bread, a perfect sauvignon from the French Basque country, all followed by a bit of ripe Camembert and a dram of Calvados. Who wants more fishing? ! But after a nap on a pillow of hay in the meadow, it’s still there. Or you could go shooting instead. From the air, Normandy appears to have more wheat and grain fields than Kansas, and on the ground the contour is reminiscent of the Scottish lowlands with gentle hills that give way to well protected forests. A plentiful variety of ground game and wing shooting is available for walk up. The woods hide red stag, roe deer, fallow deer and of course the French wild boar. There is a phenomenon the French have developed in their hunting hounds (sic). “Hounds”, by the way may be used to describe a Jack Russell, Labrador Retriever, Griffon or the most beautiful {and well disciplined} pack of French black and whites one could imagine. The curiosity is that if a pack is trained to hunt roe deer for example, these dogs will simply turn their nose up at a stag, boar or any other game they encounter during “le Chasse”.