I’m so obsessed with cheese I planned my entire holiday around it
‘I think I’m a little tired of Camembert,” Florence, the owner of my gîte in deepest Normandy, confides over dinner.
Recklessly, I lean in. “Actually, I think I prefer brie . . .”
She’s shocked. “Well, there are superb examples of Camembert here . . .”
Suitably chastised, I backtrack. Blame the calvados. When you’re staying at a gîte — La Malherbière — with a view of the slate-grey spire of the village of Camembert on the valley floor, don’t badmouth the local hero (B&B doubles from £77 for two; la-malherbiere.fr).
However, I’m only overnighting. Tomorrow morning I commence the Vélo de Fromage — a 35-mile cycle route that ties together several of the towns and villages that carry the names of three of Normandy’s most famous AOC-certified cheeses — Camembert, Livarot, and Pont-l’Évêque. For the completists, the fourth, Neufchâtel-en-Bray, beckons about 60 miles to the west.
If you’re an avid cyclist, the rumpled terrain of the Vélo de Fromage, with its mellow hill climbs and sprawling pastures, should be a doddle. Those, however, who tend to sweat in a fromagerie let alone in Lycra, should probably, like I do, seek technological assistance for the tricky bits.
Chris Allsop’s bicycle outside Bellou Manor
Having picked up my ebike (the “e” stands for “eat more cheese”) at the Ouistreham-Caen ferry port, I cycled inland to the Pays d’Auge — a swathe of rural countryside populated by cows, racehorses and relocated Parisians. The big city migrants (Florence among them) rub together with the locals just fine, their deep city pockets breathing new life into the half-timbered barns that peep out from behind willows and ornate iron gates.
The next morning, after farewell pastries with Florence’s homemade jams, I freewheel to Ferme de l’Instière, Camembert, where I’ve arranged my first tasting (£6; email: dalila.berritane@laposte.net; + 33 9 6367 4657). A lick on my calf greets me as I dismount. It’s another…
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