The lighthouse

I’m halfway up the staircase to reach the top of the lighthouse in Calais. My son is a few steps behind me. My daughter turned back after the first few flights. Her knees wobbled. Her head and heart couldn’t handle the depths of the open staircase that winds its way to the top of the beacon.

My husband walks down with her to the main floor where there is a museum and a gift shop. My son and I continue on.

We are led by an older man who looks like he’s in his late 60s. He speaks English with a thick french accent. He likes to crack jokes. He points out the living quarters where the lighthouse keeper used to stay until the system became automated in 1987 and computers took over.

We get closer to the top. The staircase becomes more narrow and steep. Now my knees feel wobbly but I keep that to myself so that my son doesn’t start to second guess his decision to climb.

The older man puts on an orange safety vest before we step outside onto the patio that surrounds the lantern the mariners still use to help guide them into Calais. I get a 360 bird’s eye view of the city. I recognize the port where the ferries arrive. The steeple of Notre Dame church and the patio of our apartment. I can see waves lapping up the shoreline. It’s breathtaking.

We begin our descent. The older man stays at the top so my husband can join him. I point out how fit he must be climbing 271 stairs multiple times a day. He nods. But he’s got limits.

The lighthouse was built in 1848. It’s white with a black top.

Every lighthouse in France is uniquely painted to make them easy to recognize. The lighthouse in Boulogne-Sur-Mer is solid fire-engine red. The one in Berck-Sur-Mer has red and white stripes like a barber shop pole.

You might assume a lighthouse would be right on the shoreline but this one is actually in a residential part of Calais a few blocks from the port and only a couple blocks from our apartment.

The light from the Calais tower can be seen 43 kilometres away. It gives four flashes every 15 seconds which can be seen all the way in England only 33 kilometres away.

I pause to think about the number of ships and ferries that have been guided by this lighthouse through the Straits of Dover.

Once we are all back at the bottom again we make our way to the beach.

The wind is so strong it could almost tip you over. More beach bars have opened and even though it’s barely 12 degrees, the waiters have set out loungers for people to enjoy the sunshine.

We watch a few ferries arrive. Some teenage boys have set up a volleyball net on the sand.

We hang out for a bit before we head home to make supper. Earlier in the day we grabbed two Merguez sausages from the market. We are making a meal of couscous with cumin and lemon marinated radishes. I bought pots of mint and parsley from the market to use in tonight’s dish.

I run into the grocery store on our way home from the beach to grab a bottle of wine to go with tonight’s food. I settle on a Côtes du Rhône rosé.

I step out onto a patio to snip fresh herbs for our meal tonight. I look to see if I can see the lighthouse. Our apartment faces the wrong direction and there are too many buildings that would obstruct the view anyway.

I go back inside to the smell of harissa. The sausage is almost done.