Bon Nuit Le Touquet

Nous sommes en France …. and that is about the limit of my command of the language I should probably be more familiar with …. quelle domage. 

Ahhh …. Le Touquet ….. la belle Le Touquet at dusk.  It lies languid on the northern coast of France, its wide avenues graced with trees uplit by spotlights inset into the municipal but beautifully mown grass.  Winding lanes lead to houses which are huge, in a wide variety of styles, all in their own way elegant but understated.  In the centre ville grand hotels from a more gracious era are set back from the road so one may fully appreciate the architecture and the best form of advertising, the beautiful people coming and going.  Bathed in the warm ReadyBrek glow of the wealthy, the visitors to Le Touquet wander amongst chic boutiques, sip their café at stylish street-side restaurants.  Surely Gatsby was born in Le Touquet. 

All well and good but Le Touquet was full!  So we moved on down the road and parked in an Aire, all but empty when we arrived at 2130 but full when we left at 0730.  We are off to Honfleur, as recommended by Jo and Sally.