Off the Beaten Path: Normandy

Château La Rametière

Some places make wine taste better.
This was one of them.

We spent three or four days here with friends from Southern California, staying in a turreted château in the Normandy countryside. The kind with gravel drives, thick stone walls, and windows that make you slow down whether you mean to or not.

It sits about twenty minutes from Mont-Saint-Michel, close enough to visit without making it your whole personality. But once you turn off the road and pass through the gates, the crowds disappear completely. Rolling green hills. Quiet. Space. Five generous rooms and the sense that nothing was waiting for us anywhere else.

The real secret weapon here is Pascale. She runs the place, but “hostess” doesn’t quite cover it. Warm. Sharp. Wickedly funny. The kind of person who makes you feel like you’re staying with a favorite cousin who just happens to have excellent taste in antiques. When she suggested dinner at La Croix d'Or, we listened. That turned out to be one of those meals you remember not because it was fancy, but because it was exactly right.

One day our friends headed out early, and suddenly the estate was ours. Denise went shopping and exploring. I stayed behind with Sully and Viggo. They lounged. Occasionally investigated a hedge. I sat out front, writing and sipping wine, with the whole place quietly doing nothing around us.

That was the moment.
That was the reason you go.

After a long day at Omaha Beach, we decided not to bother with a restaurant. We stopped at a massive E.Leclerc and did what you’re supposed to do in France. Cheese. Charcuterie. Baguettes. Wine. Everything.

There’s a reason the place feels so comfortable being quiet. The château was once owned by close friends of Charles de Gaulle, and he spent time here over the years, visiting without ceremony and staying for days at a stretch. That detail isn’t advertised, and it shouldn’t be. But it explains something. This house is used to hosting people who didn’t need to be impressed.

I asked Pascale if it was okay to eat out front. Not only was it okay, she brought us plates. Real wine glasses. Proper silverware. No plastic nonsense. Just a smile and a casual “of course,” like this was the most normal thing in the world.

That’s the difference.

This wasn’t about castles or checklists. It was about space. About friends. About dogs stretched out in the grass. About a place that lets you slow all the way down without announcing it.

You could visit Normandy and see the sights.
Or you could stay somewhere like this and actually feel it.

When the wine tastes better, pay attention.