Magazine - 15/12/04

Approximately 40 km (25 miles) on the D513. The journey itself can be done in 2 hours, but plan on taking a day to make the most of the stops. Ideally, allow a weekend for excursions further inland.

© E. Boucher / ViaMichelin Not all Jaguars are green and not all seas are blue.

While the American market remains depressed for the prestigious British manufacturer, Jaguar has achieved record sales in Europe: + 32.9% in August in Great Britain and + 42.65% in France since the beginning of the year. There have never been so many Jaguars on the roads of Europe and particularly on the roads of France. Granted, they are mainly X-Types and probably equipped with the diesel engines scorned by Jaguar traditionalists, who had been expected to eat their golf hats. But this is, in fact, the secret of their success, with the X-Type 2.0 D, for example, representing almost 78% of Jaguars sold in France. Although readily attributed to the fact that diesel versions represent over 50% of sales in the luxury saloon segment in Europe, this success is also due to the fact that, for an extremely attractive price, you can now become the proud owner of a real Jaguar.
In effect, at first sight, the first ever diesel-engine Jaguar turns out to be quite in tune with and a worthy heir to its predecessors. Although the popularity of the traditional British racing green colour has long been on the wane clients now seem to prefer dark blue, grey and black and ours was a lovely metallic blue verging on purple, there are other unmistakable similarities. Its design brings to mind a less streamlined version of the XJ: the same curves on the bonnet and around the headlights, a beautiful although more compact chrome radiator grille, more chrome on the bumper blades and side-window surrounds... In short, the very classic, timeless lines that everyone loves in a Jaguar.

Now for the practical exercises: I open the door of my Jaguar, which closes with a thud, slip into the leather seat (8-way electrically adjustable seat for the driver) and begin to examine the onboard computer. It's a pity that it is optional, since the ergonomics are immediately appealing: a 7-inch touch screen that allows you to adjust the air conditioning, sound system, telephone, navigation system and even the television, at the touch of a finger. The navigation system is particularly intuitive: I enter "Cabourg" and off we go! Just one reservation: you can only programme the navigation when the car is at a standstill doubtless for reasons of safety which does not take into account the possible presence of a passenger.

We arrive in Cabourg, where all streets seem to lead to the Casino and Grand Hôtel. As a matter of fact, this seaside resort which grew up under the Second Empire was built entirely according to a fan-shaped plan, with the Casino at the centre and all roads radiating from it. The impression from the garden in front of the Casino is elegant and slightly theatrical: a vast amphitheatre bordered by sumptuous villas built between 1895 and 1905. This setting suits the style of our Jaguar down to the ground, so we decide to park there. The grass is a deep green colour and the overall effect of great harmony has survived to the present day thanks to strict town-planning regulations. The first wave of construction took place between 1856 and 1875, producing around 200 houses. At that time, the Beaux Arts aesthetic and neo-Louis XIII style were in vogue. The second wave, between 1881 and 1899, produced around 400 buildings, some resembling medieval castles or Flemish houses, but most of them testifying to a re-found regionalism and built in the neo-Norman style, characterised, among other things, by half-timbered façades. This style is still predominant today, despite a few forays into Art Deco in the 1920s. A distinctive feature of this type of architecture is the attention paid to detail a principle that, moreover, also applies to luxury-car design and is in evidence in the X-Type. Take a close look at the combination of all the elements, some of them minute, which create the charm of these resorts: ceramic friezes, variety of materials (brick, wood, flint, etc), mosaics, dormer windows, sculptures, turrets, pointed roofs, elaborate ridge tiling, loggias, verandas, bay windows, etc.
 
The great man of Cabourg is, of course, Marcel Proust, whose memory is kept alive at the Grand Hôtel, where he used to stay every summer from 1907 to 1914. This old-fashioned luxury hotel will delight Belle Époque fans with its Beaux Arts façade and its interior decor with pastiches of Louis XV, Louis XVI and Empire styles. With In Search of Lost Time in your pocket and in the spirit of dandyism, you can take a table in the impressive dining room with its picture windows overlooking the promenade and the sea: the famous "aquarium" described by Proust. And why not break open the piggy bank and treat yourself to the "Souvenirs Marcel Proust" room (a reconstruction according to Proust's work) or try to negotiate the price apparently now common practice in luxury hotels (although we were unsuccessful). For more affordable pleasures, you can fall back on the Casino for tea or dinner and watch the red glow of sunset over the sea: just like a postcard, but a sight one never tires of seeing.

The skies cloud over, not that Normandy is as rainy as some may claim, but a little squall is always on the cards even when sunny intervals have been forecast. So we head back to the car to make the most of the other resorts along the coast in good conditions, and set off for Dives-sur-Mer. This town is separated from Cabourg by the Dives river estuary, which is full of pleasure boats, and the harbour stands at the mouth of the river. Known as "Port Guillaume", Guillaume (William), Duke of Normandy, is said to have set sail from here to conquer England in the 11^th century. Today, the dock is surrounded by a marina in neo-Norman style, a combination of tradition and modernity. The town centre, however, does not follow the seaside resort aesthetic and has a certain cachet: 14^th and 15^th century covered markets, a beautiful set of 16^th century buildings, their walls bending under the weight of the years (known as William the Conqueror's village), and above all a church of surprising nobility, combining Romanesque and Flamboyant Gothic styles.
 
The traffic is not too bad in the low season. We follow the coast, driving through Houlgate, Villers-sur-Mer, Blonville and Benerville. In places, the road cuts into the hedge- and tree-covered "bocage" landscape and climbs grassy hills overlooking the sea. In short, don't expect to pick up any great speed. You may as well make the most of the viewpoints and this incomparable combination of coastline and countryside, chic Belle Époque seaside resorts and Norman rusticity. Moreover, in our X-Type Jaguar, we feel as if we are in an English sitting room looking out over the open sea: as opulent as the XJ, but on a smaller scale. The interior is covered in beige, brown and black leather on the seats, steering wheel, handbrake, gear lever and doors and there are wood inserts, and an abundance of chrome: on the gear lever, door handles, brake and in the detailed finishes on the speaker surrounds and cup holder. Genuine refinement that is not at odds with the high-tech aesthetic of the onboard computer; real luxury is always discreet. Nor can you hear the diesel engine; the British engineers have worked wonders on the former Mondeo engine, equipping it with an injection and pump control system and a combustion noise sensor. The only fly in the ointment is the rather limited space for back-seat passengers.

Next stop is Houlgate, one of the oldest resorts on the coast (1851), with some more beautiful examples of 19^th century seaside resort architecture in Renaissance, neo-Gothic, English Gothic and neo-Norman styles. The fine-sand beach is magnificent, as is the one at Villers-sur-Mer that we want to walk along but are stopped by drizzle. As we wait for it to pass, I try to get the television to work, but all I end up with is a tinny sound and interference on the onboard screen. The channels probably need adjusting or perhaps we need to be nearer to a big city... Never mind, I put on my trench coat and head out into the rain.
 
7 km (4 miles) and a few more east-bound clouds later, we reach Deauville in a burst of sunshine. Founded by the Duke of Morny (Napoléon III's half-brother), Deauville is like Cabourg, but with a dose of glamour on top. Villas with old-fashioned charm, but even more sumptuous, and an almost religious predilection for the neo-Norman style. Half-timbering, which is in evidence in the luxury hotels, town hall, station, market and even a service station, and whether real or fake, has become the town's hallmark; a stroll through the streets reveals some magnificent sights.

From this point of view, Deauville's most symbolic monument is the Hôtel Normandy (1912), which was inspired by the medieval houses of the old town of Lisieux, as were the luxury boutiques behind the Casino. The heritage from this period is so rich that it would be impossible to attempt a summary in just a few lines. We will merely mention the Villa Strassburger, which is the prototype of the millionaire's farmhouse (it has belonged to the Rothschilds and to various American tycoons) and reminds us of Deauville's close ties with the equine world. The most prestigious races take place here (there are no less than two racecourses), as well as the Gold Cup of the World Polo Championship and, above all, Deauville remains one of the major yearlings markets.
 
Deauville also boasts a magnificent 2-km (1.2 mile) beach which, rather surprisingly, is not lined by beachfront abodes as in most other seaside resorts. This urban peculiarity is, in fact, the result of a natural disaster: in 1875, violent storms caused a shingle bank to form, which in turn caused the water to recede by at least 500 metres (547 yards). Another feature is the long boardwalk of exotic wood known as "les planches" which lines the beach, along with huts and the Pompeiian baths, making it a popular place in summer, and very fashionable.
 
It's lunchtime and I'm looking for a restaurant on the Jag's navigation system: the list is long, but there are just addresses and no comments Impossible for me to decide. So I take out my good old Michelin® Guide and find a Bib Gourmand: the Yearling. As luck would have it, it is also listed in the navigation system. As its name suggests, it is near the racecourse and its interior decor is a hymn to man's greatest conquest. The menu, on the other hand, sings the praises of lobster in all its guises.

Next to Deauville, and separated from it only by the Touques river estuary, is Trouville, both its rival and its elder, since it appears to have been frequented by artists as far back as 1825. Less polished than Deauville, Trouville seems more authentic it's like going from the pastiche to the original model. This is probably due to the fact that it is still a fishing town as well as a resort, hence the peculiar contrast as trawlers come to unload in front of the casino. Here too there is a fine beach with a boardwalk lined by pretty homes, here a Norman manor house, there a Persian villa.
 
We leave Trouville and head for Honfleur on the D513. This is the most beautiful part of the trip, with the road twisting and merging into a rather uneven landscape of bocage and woods, superb estates and age-old oaks. Thick hedgerows enclose the small secondary road, with a few gaps here and there through which you can glimpse the sea down below. The descent into Villerville is magnificent and offers some lovely viewpoints overlooking the Seine estuary and, on the far bank, Le Havre with its oil installations. As you come out of a bend, the delightful 12^th century Cricqueboeuf church rises up from the depths of time.

The D513 is a narrow and rather busy road, so caution is of the essence, but our X-Type demonstrates excellent road-holding qualities even without the four-wheel drive of the petrol versions. The steering is spot-on and the chassis very rigid, remaining true to Jaguar's sporting spirit.
 
Here we are in Honfleur. If you disregard the crowd of tourists, Honfleur has something of the pirate town about it, like Saint-Malo. And following in the footsteps of the Breton town, people from Honfleur colonised Canada and founded Quebec. Here, the quays of the Old Dock, the rigging from another age, the tall, narrow, slate-roofed houses and St Catherine's Church with its wooden nave and aisles like upturned ship hulls, all make for an atmosphere that is far removed from that of a seaside resort There are no beaches here, but rather the call of the open sea.