Walking alone between the soaring white walls, you hear birds and look up to see them fly overhead as the walls are open to the sky.

The Jumièges Abbey was a Benedictine monastery, located in Normandy, France. It was founded in 654 by St. Philibert. After Viking raids it was empty for a while, but found new life in the 11th Century, when the abbey church was consecrated by William the Conqueror.

How I ended up at the ruins of the Abbey of Jumièges

I was planning a road trip through part of France, leaving Paris for the chateaux of the Loire Valley, continuing on to Mont. St. Michel, then Rouen, and back to Paris. While researching the trip, I stumbled on the “Ruined Abbey of Jumièges”, which sounded like the most romantic (in the literary sense) place.

I am drawn to place names. I once added to a few days on to a vacation so I could get to Venice to see the “Bridge of Sighs”. So, yes, the Ruined Abbey of Jumièges was calling to me. It looked to be right on my route to Rouen, so I added it into my itinerary. I have since seen it called “The ruins of the Abbey of Jumièges.” NOT THE SAME. Ruined Abbey of Jumièges is much more appealing!

Um, a ferry?

The adventure started before I even got there. This was a solo trip and I was using Google Maps to navigate. My phone called out, “In 500 meters, take the ferry.”

What?!? There had been no mention of a ferry. I didn’t know how to take the ferry. When did it come, how much did it cost? I pushed down my anxiety, which was already an issue because I was alone in a rental car in a foreign country. I am terrified of renting cars – I’m always worried I will wreck it and I’m too cheap/poor to pay for the really good insurance. But the ruined abbey had called to me, and I was determined to go.

The road ended at the river. I was the only car around, but I could see the ferry on the other side. There was a sign in French:

ATTN: d’eviter la pollution atmospherique et sonore merci de bien vouloir arreter vos moteurs et baisser le son de vos radios

Fortunately I can read French, and knew they were politely asking me to turn off the car and turn down the radio. Not a problem. So I waited, watching the ferry across the river.

A car pulled up alongside of me, apparently also waiting for the ferry. Was I in the wrong spot? Should I be where they are? But then more cars came, lining up behind the both of us. They all knew when to expect the ferry, and arrived accordingly.

The ferry came, cars went off. The car next to me drove on, I drove on. The ferry took us across the river and let us off. It was EASY. Also, it was free. I love France.

Based on later research, it appears I crossed at the “bac de Jumièges”, the Jumièges ferry. There were other routes that involved bridges, but the ferry was a bold (if unexpected) adventure. Also, if you were coming from a different direction (Rouen, for example), you wouldn’t need to cross the river.

I try a galette in Jumièges

On the other side, I decided to eat first, then visit the abbey. There was a restaurant very close to the ruins called La Bonne Famille, offering local, direct-from-farm products. I hate to eat in restaurants by myself, but this place was great. I ate at the counter, so I didn’t have to feel quite so alone.

I had a galette, which was meat and cheese and mushrooms wrapped in a crepe. It was AMAZING. I’m not even a big fan of mushrooms, but I loved it. Seriously, I still think about it sometimes.

First impressions of the ruined abbey of Jumièges

After my galette, I walked over to the abbey. The first thing I noticed is that it was under construction. Isn’t it supposed to be ruined? (It is a beautiful ruin – no one wants what’s left to fall down and be really ruined, so I’m glad they’re working to keep it together. )

It’s surrounded by a wall, and there’s a gate at the entrance, with a room where they collect the entrance fee. I had a picture in my head of a wild, abandoned place, nearly lost to time. But yeah, there’s a gate and a fee. Nothing crazy, but my imagination had gone somewhere else.

There were a few other people who came while I was there, but not many. It was a chilly, raining day in March, so not exactly high tourist season. Just how I like it!

Inside the abbey

Inside the abbey was a perfectly spaced plank boardwalk stretching ahead, with a path heading out to each side, in the shape of a cross. Green grass surrounded the planks; impossibly green grass for a gray, rainy March day. From the grass, white pillars rose up, topped with curved arches, and the walls soared higher above. Overhead was open sky with storm clouds, and birds passing above the open gap between the walls. Magical.

I wandered alone in the ruins. The only sound was the wind in the trees and the birds overhead. A few other people eventually showed up, and we smiled as our paths crossed.

I loved the stillness of the place, and, while it would have been striking with a brilliant blue sky overhead, the moody, gray sky felt appropriate.

As I said earlier, the abbey was founded in 654 by St. Philibert. After Viking raids it was empty for a while, but found new life in the 11th Century, when the abbey church was consecrated by William the Conqueror.

During the French Wars of Religion in the 16th Century (Catholics vs the protestant Huguenots), the monks ran from the Protestants who looted the place. During the French Revolution, large amounts of stone were sold off, leaving only these (very impressive) ruins.

Final thoughts on the Abbey of Jumièges

It turned out to be less remote and wild than I was expecting, but much more sacred. I loved the ‘hush’ of the place, walking in the stillness, the connection to nature. The Jumièges Abbey has been called France’s most beautiful ruin, and I completely agree. It is absolutely perfect as it is.