Corbie: A glimpse of small town rural France

Our abiding memory of Corbie will be that lunch time (noon to 2pm) is sacred. We have other lovely memories but if you understand lunch time, your visit to be Corbie will be easier.

Corbie is an administrative centre in Northern France not far from Amiens. It’s on the railway line and on the banks of the Somme. Although quite small it is a sprawling village as we found when we lugged our suitcases from the station to our B & B. When we reached the main square – Place de la Republique – we were surprised to note the Australian flag as well as the French flag flying from the tourist office. You see, Corbie is not far from Villers-Bretonneux and even today Australians are not forgotten. We found that “Je suis Australien/Australienne” opened many doors.

The citizens of Corbie do not speak English on the whole, about the same amount as I speak French (five years worth fifty years ago at school, but learning those long vocab lists has paid off.) Still, with good will we were able to order food, buy rail tickets and send postcards to Australia in Corbie. Smiles and nods on both sides go a long way. We even managed to read the instructions in the Laundromat. Corbie is one of those places where you are wished ‘Bonjour’ as you pass in the street. We were obviously strangers and were made to feel welcome. One lady admonished me for walking with my shoe-lace undone and stopped and did it up for me. I can tell admonishment in any language. I can also tell kindness.

We stayed at a wonderful Bed and Breakfast, Le Macassar, run by Ian and Miguel ably assisted by their two Dutch sheepdogs. This place had been recommended by a friend. Right on Place de la Republique the house has a beautiful garden where one afternoon we joined fellow guests and our hosts for late afternoon drinks. The house has many wonderful Art Deco features and decorative pieces. Miguel prepares a hearty breakfast and the dogs are always keen to see what you’re doing. Ian and Miguel were able to arrange for us a guide to battlefields.

The Somme flows past Corbie. Here it is a canal with a developed bike path and walkway. In one section there is a lock for the small houseboats to navigate the river. There are some large houses fronting the river. Beautiful roses, whose perfume can be smelt some distance away grow in profusion. There were garden plots for growing vegetables down by the river.

Corbie saw a lot of action in World War 1. A friend’s grandfather spent a lot of time here with his English regiment and, as I have said it’s not far from Villers Bretonneux or Amiens. The church has mortar damage on the walls. An old abbey in the centre of town is in a dangerous state and can only be visited by special arrangements. Along the railway line the red Flanders poppies were growing in profusion.

On Wednesday and Friday there are markets in Place de la Republque. I watched them being set up from my bedroom window. The Friday market has a lot of imported ‘junk’ but the food section is breathtaking: fruit and vegetables, of course, fish fresh and cooked poultry, small goods, cheese, rabbits, flowers and plants. The poultry are sold with their heads on. One set had chickens spit roasting over a bed of potatoes. The women of the town were out with their shopping trolleys and baskets, pausing to exchange news as they shopped.

We made a day trip up to Amiens – twelve minutes by train. We had a ‘touriste menu’ by the cathedral. It was very reasonably priced. I had a sampling of local specialties to start, guinea fowl, and cherry tart.

The cathedral is very beautiful and was quiet when we were there. There are memorials to Canadian, Australian and new Zealand forces remembering their efforts in saving the town in the World war 1. On the exterior are detailed stone carvings, inside soaring stone buttresses, wood carvings and intricate stained glass windows flooding the interior with blue and crimson light. It truly is awe inspiring.

But back to lunch. On our first day we had lunch at the hotel near the abbey. The place was full of convivial workmen who left fairly promptly together. The second day we did our laundry, took a long walk by the river and about ten past two felt like lunch, The restaurant was closed; the hotel was not serving lunch by then. Fortunately we found another hotel and, even though lunch was over, were fed. The shops, except the supermarket all closed noon till two. So if you were wanting a baguette or a sausage in that time, you were out of luck. The next two days we were in other places. On our trip to Amiens we were catching a train at 12:10. It was quite cool outside and we were enjoying the shelter of the well kept waiting room. At noon we were promptly dispatched to the platform as the ticket office closed for the two hour lunch break. I amused myself on the platform by photographing the Flanders poppies growing wild.

As we were leaving Corbie by train we chatted with the young man who sold us our tickets. On learning we were from Australia he said. “I am from Pozieres. We are so grateful to the Australians.”

This, of course, had nothing to do with us personally but it was very moving to think that the sacrifices of past Australians, our own families included, were remembered.