It’s a hot afternoon on the Opal Coast of northern France. On the cape where Le Touquet is short of space at the mouth of the Canche, there is a buzz of insects in the bushes and the excited chatter of children on the sandy path that separates the sand dunes of the coastline from the thick vegetation of the Parc. de l’Estuaire. This scene is definitely not a scene of complete silence. But there is something golden about it; It is a seaside resort.
And then the silence was suddenly broken as two Allied planes approached. A Spitfire and a Mustang dance low, close to each other. The noise of their engines is so loud that, as I passed overhead, I’m sure I saw German bunkers buried in the tall grass begin to twitch in an imaginary muscle memory response. And then they were gone, these warbirds, their mechanical noise fading as they landed eastward at the little airfield waiting at the edge of the estuary, just beyond the tree line.
Even though all this is happening in the early summer of 2024, the busy propellers of these old planes don’t feel that far removed from the events that took place here exactly 80 years ago this week; The D-Day landings changed the course of the war. II. World War.
Not exactly “here”, of course. At least not without warnings. The main spear thrusts of Operations Neptune and Overlord, as history well knows, penetrated the enemy flank some 200 miles to the southwest along the arc of the Normandy coast. Allied and German forces together suffered an estimated 15,000 deaths that morning; young men’s lives evaporate into sand and blood. But to the north, at Pas-de-Calais – near the narrowest point of the English Channel, where Hitler could reasonably have expected the counter-fight to begin – Le Touquet was another loss on 6 June 1944.
True, the planes that attacked him were not Spitfires and Mustangs, but mostly heavy Lancaster bombers of the RAF’s No. 218 Squadron. The first week of June was an elaborate game of smoke and mirrors, with the Allies launching various diversionary “attacks” (Operation Titanic, Operation Taxable, Operation Big Drum) to distract the enemy from their real plans for Ouistreham and Arromanches. But amid subtle interference from radar and faux fleets created by small boats and reflector balloons, Operation Glimmer dealt a harder blow. Between 2 and 6 June, nearly 2,000 bombs were dropped on Le Touquet. A favorite spot of the British elite, the elegant playground of the Canche Estuary became their sacrificial lamb.
The early history of Le Touquet has been written many times; A rosy dream in the Gallic sun. It all started with Parisian lawyer Alphonse Daloz, who dreamed of a stylish and elegant resort ideal for wealthy visitors from the French capital, and in 1882 he bought a plot of land near Canche. It was expanded and masterfully improved by John Whitley. The British businessman, who bought Daloz’s holding in 1902, expanded his targets to include wealthy tourists at the far end of the Channel.
His plan worked. A glittering array of bijou properties were added to the first hotels and attractions to open their doors while Victoria was still alive – Hôtel Saint-Georges (1884), Le Grand Hôtel (1887), Casino de la Plage (1897). “Belle Epoque” period. The Atlantic Hôtel came in 1904, the Golf Hôtel in 1908, and the Casino de la Forêt in 1913. While World War I turned these pleasure palaces into hospitals and refugee centers, the Roaring Twenties merely made the lilies shine. When Hôtel Le Westminster and Hôtel Royal Picardy entered the field, Le Touquet was an entertainment spot with few equals.
But if this halcyon period shines brightly in the popular perception of the town, what happened to Le Touquet in the summer of 1944 is even more hidden among the ashes and fires.
World War II quickly engulfed the town. The first German officers arrived on 21 May 1940, 11 days after the start of the attack on France. That June, 40,000 Wehrmacht soldiers were camped on the coast, preparing for an invasion of Britain that would never happen. The Operation Sealion plan was abandoned, Le Touquet began the invasion, the Atlantic Wall rose along beaches frequented by wealthy holidaymakers. Liberation will last four years. When it finally came, it came at a price.
I met Lucas Roseuw in front of the tourist information office. He is waiting with a folder of photographs and notes, as well as a bicycle, to show me around the relevant places. We pedal slowly, partly because such is the pace of life in this place of infinite beauty, and partly because it’s not far from our first stop – the cluster of apartments and shops collectively described as “Avenue du Verger” – at the bottom of the Avenue du Verger. Hotel de l’Hermitage”.
They bear only partial resemblance to the noble estate that opened here in 1904 – partly due to the bombing of the hotel on the night of 2-3 June (it was converted into apartments in 1968). Lucas shows me a faded photograph of Erwin Rommel visiting here in 1940, then turns the page to look at the beautiful lawns on the other side of the road, in front of what is now the Casino Barriere. But in his book, the year is 1927, and the art deco marvel of the Grand Restaurant de La Forêt gleams above what is now just a lawn. “It was pulverized,” he says.
But the biggest gap is at the top of the Avenue du Château, opposite the intersection. Not that there is literally a gap. This large piece of land is now occupied by the extensive hospitality training school Lycée Hôtelier du Touquet, which has been located here since 1971. But back in 1929, it was Le Touquet’s pre-war jewel, the Hotel Rôyal Picardy. A magnificent building consisting of 500 rooms, 120 living rooms, 50 apartments, spa, swimming pool and a garage for 100 cars. Described by contemporaries as “the largest, most luxurious hotel in the world,” it strutted onto the scene just weeks before the Wall Street crash lifted the curtain on the Roaring Twenties, ending the summer of 1944 in ruins. A small information board sits in mourning at the front of the Lycée as waiters and sous chefs file in for lessons.
It would be wrong to say that every ghost in the grid was the result of Allied bombs. As Lucas and I cycle south down the coast, we eventually stop at 181-183 Boulevard du Dr Jules Pouget (named after the town’s wartime mayor who was imprisoned by the Gestapo). There is little to see here; is nothing more than a series of remarkable flats overlooking the waves. But 81 years ago it was the Atlantic Hôtel, one of Le Touquet’s original hospitality marvels. This situation ended when the war broke out. This building, too big, too famous, too familiar to both the British guests staying there and the RAF pilots who could see it from the air, was demolished by invaders in 1943; A visible bookmark has been deleted. Some of the masonry still went to shelters hidden along the coast road.
These scars are everywhere; There are many of them but they are invisible. Le Touquet’s 19th-century lighthouses, built in 1852, were destroyed by retreating Germans fleeing the city in September 1944. Happily, the magnificent Hôtel de Ville still stands on Boulevard Daloz; A neo-Gothic masterpiece completed in 1931 and financed by a single annual taxation of casinos (1928). It was still there after the war, the bell tower being used as a makeshift lighthouse for seven years. It is currently undergoing a renovation (scheduled to be finished in 2026), inspired by its neighboring church of Sainte Jeanne d’Arc, which was subjected to heavy bombardment in 1944 but has returned to full health.
But Le Touquet has a reputation for moving on no matter what. Their guests’ fat bank accounts kept the hotels operating through the ’30s, even as the Great Depression destroyed the appetite for tourism elsewhere. And he returned from the battle with magnificent speed; The beach was reopened as early as June 1945. Eighty years later it still occasionally serves as a dirty secret; Even as recently as 2017 and 2022, soft sands revealed undetonated mines. In each case, the situation was defused safely and successfully, but only with an explosive punch.
Then there is the greatest survivor. With the exception of perhaps the Royal Picardy, Le Westminster was the most extravagant of the debutantes of the Roaring Twenties; A star born in 1924. His status as the last gentleman standing has not changed even though he has reached his centenary; Its red-brick façade and winding driveway give the top end of the Avenue du Verger an extra level of elegance, just like it did 100 years ago. And its main restaurant, Le Pavillon, under chef William Elliott, carries the accessories almost obligatory for a serious dining room in a luxury French hotel; one Michelin star.
But what feels most appealing is the weight of the past, felt almost tangibly in its plushly carpeted corridors. Particularly the corridor leading to the reception area, whose walls were covered with photos of former guests. Charles de Gaulle, who stayed at the hotel in 1959, is here; Edith Piaf looks through the sepia mists of 1958. Marlene Dietrich lingers in a world on the edge; The entry date is recorded as 11 July 1938. Sean Connery is captured embracing Ursula Andress in the studio in 1962. According to legend, he signed a contract to star in the movie. Doctor No In the Westminster hotel bar.
Le Touquet had returned to its sophisticated normality as James Bond roamed the cinema screens. Even in his more primitive works. The replacement lighthouse, which juts into the sky just behind Westminster, was opened in 1951. The lighthouse, which is open to visitors, has its own small gallery. A particularly relevant photograph shows the view from the lighthouse in 1910; The Atlantic Hotel is clearly visible from its waterfront location. Its absence is conspicuous when I climb the 274 steps to admire the 2024 version of the panorama; but everything else in the town seems to glow the same way.
get there
Lille is the closest major train station to Le Touquet, 75 miles away by car. Return trains from London St Pancras start from £103 via Eurostar (0343 218 6186; eurostar.com)
stay there
Double rooms at Le Westminster (0033 32105 4848; Hotelsbarriere.com) from €235
More information
letouquet.com; hautsdefrancetourism.com; france.fr