Amiens

Posted on 26 February 2026 by aides memoires

I returned to the cathedral to compare it with Rouen: it is much my favourite. Perhaps something about its coherence: constructed in a comparatively short space of time and (unfair on Rouen, this) emerging fairly unscathed from 20th-century bombardment. The rose windows facing each other in the north and south transepts are wonderful.

As I left the cathedral I noticed that the petit train touristique was about to depart – so I caught it. I now have several wonky photos of lampposts obscuring some sight or other, but I did find myself adding to my store of useless information. The town of Amiens was heavily bombed in WWII, and we went along boulevard Faidherbe with its postwar ISAI estate – Immeubles Sans Affectation Immédiate – which still looks good. The cutting that yesterday’s Rouen train went through was once part of the ramparts. The different shades of old and new bricks marking the postwar reconstruction of a church. A long avenue of bourgeois houses that reacted to a window tax by blocking up windows. The unusual decoration on the top of Jules Verne’s house. The Hôtel Bouctot-Vagniez – spot the difference between images from Google Earth and the petit train. A tour of Saint Leu (which I visited on foot in the afternoon) and the edge of the Hortillonages – little market gardens islands surrounded by channels of the River Somme.

I was glad I’d caught the petit train. Grands trains tomorrow for the return journey.

Rouen

Posted on 25 February 2026 by aides memoires

My aim in coming here was to see the cathedrals of Amiens and Rouen. I didn’t do much homework; had I done so I would have found out how long the train journey from Amiens to Rouen takes and how infrequent the trains are. As well as discovering that Rouen cathedral closes for lunch. But – n’importe. I’ve had a lovely four hours in Rouen. The sun shone, it was warm enough to take off my woollie, and I encountered Gothics both Flamboyant and Rayonnant.

But first Amiens. I walked past the town hall on the way to the station: very French and imposing in a double-winged neo-classical style topped off with a baroque clock. Views of the cathedral down side streets. Then a bit of art deco with the Grands Garages de Picardie. At the railway station I stopped to look at the mid-century skyscraper I’d seen on arrival and then noted how it seemed to be of a piece with the station – monumental on almost Stalinesque lines. Wikipedia tells me that the station was destroyed in WWII by Allied action (the previous station having been destroyed in WWI) and rebuilt by Auguste Perret, a pioneer of reinforced concrete. It’s quite as impressive as the town hall . . . in its own way.

I cycled to Rouen from (I think) Dieppe decades ago and stayed in the youth hostel; all I can remember are hills. Today Rouen is definitely busier and bigger than Amiens and has many wooden buildings. Things I didn’t know/had forgotten: Jeanne d’Arc (“Que les Anglais brûlèrent à Rouen”); Marcel Duchamp was born near here; his siblings (including Jacques Villon) were also artists; Gustave Flaubert was born here and had Emma Bovary visit the city regularly. (But not for piano lessons.)

I arrived at the wonderful station. Although built in the 1920s, it’s more art nouveau than art deco. Next stop the tourist office on the Esplanade Marcel Duchamp. Then to the cathedral. Amiens cathedral has already won my heart and Rouen didn’t displace it. Taller but smaller (by volume) than Amiens, despite the width of the west front. The choir was damaged in WWII (the Allies again) and is obviously a reconstruction, and the spire is undergoing repair work. From some angles it looks as if the cathedral is made of lace rather than stone. I was also taken by the Église Saint-Maclou: Flamboyant Gothic (think carpet beaters laid one on top of each other) and moving forward to greet you. Like Amiens and the north door of Rouen, it has a grim image of the Day of Judgement.

Last stop was the Musée des Beaux Arts because it seemed a shame to pass up the chance of seeing one of Monet’s paints of the cathedral.

Amiens

Posted on 24 February 2026 by aides memoires

I have a hopelessly outdated vision of France. Romantic, elegant and classy with earthier undertones from Zola and Maigret. Quite ridiculous of course. I put it down to French textbook propaganda, watching/reading too many thrillers set on the Côte d’Azur at an impressionable age, artists and Chanel. I know this is 2026 and that the knots of national differences have been planed away over the years . . . but it took ages today before my journey shook off the global Subway/Starbucks/Deliveroo vibe and turned into something that seemed more “French”. (And I realise that part of the shift was moving into a more middle-class world.) London to Lille and then to Amiens. The latter train was delayed by an hour and was no more exotic than Northern Rail – but without the scenery. Such big fields of just mud! And then I remembered the battles of the Somme and was glad that this had returned to farmland.

Anyway, at some point – possibly when I dredged up some French (and my accent sounds oddly atrocious even to my ears) – I finally felt that I had entered a different world. Part of the difference is not being able to have what I am used to: a washed-out café crème rather than an americano , or uncertainty over finding a non-meat food option. I do not ask for sympathy: I pimped my café crème by asking for the “café gourmand” option: a macaron, macaroon, chocolate and a view of the cathedral.

Ah, the cathedral. My reason for coming. Most of it was built in the 13th century in the Rayonnant style (looks like somebody’s been let loose with a Spirograph set). It’s the largest Gothic cathedral in the world thanks to its breathtaking height. It brought tears to my eyes as I first took in its size and light – and I felt quite sad when I completed my tour and realised that my initial sense of awe had dwindled into ordinary appreciation. It is truly magnificent and I am lucky enough to have a view of it from my hotel window.

The Fallen Idol (1948)

Posted on 24 February 2026 by aides memoires

Director Carol Reed with Ralph Richardson, Bobby Henrey, Michèle Morgan

What a brilliant film. Richardson was outstanding as Baines the butler. Kindly, amusing and flawed. The little boy was natural and very watchable without being stomach-churningly cute. He was in almost every scene, so the audience always had a simultaneous sense of the adult and the child’s view of what was happening. The photography – angles, framing (Philippe half-wrapped in his blanket or through the banisters) – was a delight. It even had an uncertain outcome – would the gun be used? – which maintained suspense.

Peter Grimes

Posted on 20 February 2026 by aides memoires

The singing was sublime (and it’s fascinating to hear a libretto in English) the staging was simple and dramatic . . . but Peter Grimes is such an alienating character. The pre-show talk focused on his outsider status, his yearning for a “safe harbour”, and suggested that he would be seen today as neuro-divergent. Well, yes – but two boys in his care die, he can be brutal (albeit in a brutal world) and he’s obsessed with making his fortune. But he did have an absolutely beautiful voice.

Peter Grimes – John Findon
Ellen Orford – Philippa Boyle
Captain Balstrode – Simon Bailey
Auntie – Hilary Summers

York

Posted on 19 February 2026 by aides memoires

Winter drags on, cold and damp. I headed to York to visit the art gallery for a second time, this time lingering in front of the non-working automaton clock (possibly by the designer of the silver swan in the Bowes Museum). It needs to be wound up regularly to work properly, but it fell victim to Covid lockdowns. I thought how you really would want to have your portrait painted by Allan Ramsey if you were an eighteenth-century bigwig – and then noticed, as I cropped the image, how neatly it was arranged on a grid. What to do with your bits and pieces of medieval religious art: arrange them as a polyptych. There were three abstract paintings hung together and I entertained myself by wondering why I admired one and not the other.

The best bit was stumbling across an exhibition of works by someone I had never heard of before: Harold Gosney, now a very old man, who seems to have been creating all his life. There was a sense of integrity and coherence in his work. His sculptures of horses from patches of metal and perspex somehow married physical grace and power with the inorganic materials.

I had time to look for the redundant Holy Trinity Church in Goodramgate. Many centuries of building in one small church, box pews (how did they affect the congregation’s experience of services?), some 15th-century stained glass, and a squint between the small chapel and the main altar.

Grange to Cark

Posted on 14 February 2026 by aides memoires

A very still, sunny, cold day, so I headed for the hills. The poetry post at Grange was totally out of synch with today’s weather. It was lovely to feel sunshine again – it’s been two and a half weeks since the last bright day – but there were still some icy parts.

I’ve done part of this walk over Hampsfell and down to Cark station before; I remembered certain bits but wondered where other bits were – then realised that I was cutting it short by going via Cartmel rather than Beck Side. A couple of fords and some cattle; snowdrops, sounds of woodpeckers, a barn owl (perhaps) and skylarks on Hampsfell. I could have done without seeing massed segway riders at Cartmel, but that’s just me being cantankerous.