St Catherine’s harbour in Honfluer, an enclosed square lake of sea water lined by soft toned 6 or 7 storey apartment blocks with brightly coloured canopies shading the ground floor shop windows, was perhaps the fairest of all the examples of French upbuilding we saw. While we were there they were renovating the old harbour building standing sentry like on the bank of the harbour guarding a golden fairground carousel and a tree lined cobbled walkway to more picturesque restaurants, cafes and shops.
It was on one of these cobbled streets, rising up from the harbour toward St Catherine’s church that we dubbed Chocolate Street’.
Chocolate Street was end to end sugar, the gold reflected light of sweetie wrappers bouncing off the glistening smooth chocolate shades of the husband’s favourite treat, guaranteed to stem the pain of a shattered spine. As a diabetic I could only stand and reminisce about the pleasure of slowly stripping a mars bar and take comfort in a stack of tins of flavoured sardines we bought in the speciality fish shop nearby.