A Weekend in Honfleur: Our Foodie Honfleur Travel Guide to Normandy

There are some places that get under your skin the moment you arrive, and Honfleur is one of them.

Charlie and I had been promising ourselves a proper little European escape for ages, so this time we pointed the car west towards Normandy and a harbour town we had only ever admired in photographs. Spoiler: it absolutely lived up to them.

This Honfleur travel guide is everything we learnt over three glorious, food filled days. Where to eat, where to stay, what to skip, the views worth the climb, and the one breakfast I am still daydreaming about. If you love cobbled streets, candy coloured townhouses, oysters by the boatload and that golden European light that makes everything look like a painting, grab a coffee (or a chilled rose, no judgement here) and settle in.

Here is exactly how we spent our weekend in Honfleur, plus a rather glamorous detour on the way home that you will want to copy.

We decided to break the journey up rather than do it all in one go, so we left on the Thursday afternoon and drove down to Ashford, which sits about half an hour from Dover. If you are doing the same crossing, I cannot recommend an overnight stop enough. There is nothing worse than a stressful pre dawn dash to the port.

We stayed at the Hampton by Hilton in Ashford, which is brilliant value at around 85 pounds a night. It is clean, modern, has a little gym, and the bed and pillows were genuinely comfy. One thing worth knowing: you have to pay 12 pounds to park overnight, and you really do need to ring ahead to let them know you are arriving with a car. The car park has fewer spaces than rooms and it fills up fast, so a quick heads up call saves you a headache when you arrive tired.

The other reason we love Ashford is the Designer Outlet. We always factor in a bit of outlet shopping, and somehow we forget every single time just how huge it is. We clocked up 10,000 steps and picked up a few little bargains along the way. It is an easy walk from the Hampton, as is the town centre, which is about ten minutes in the opposite direction.

Last time we were in Ashford we stumbled across a little Italian bistro called Amici Ristorante Italiano, and it has become a bit of a tradition. It is exactly what you want an Italian to be from the outside in: a pretty sage green frontage with gold lettering, a pink scalloped awning, an olive tree in a planter by the door and a few sage green bistro chairs out front for sunnier days.

Inside it is warm and gloriously kitsch in the best possible way. Crisp white tablecloths layered over deep burgundy, dark leather high backed chairs, wooden floors, Italian flag bunting strung across the room, straw hats on the wall and a big terracotta amphora sitting proudly behind the bar. It is cosy, characterful and feels like somebody loves it.

Our waitress Kelsey was an absolute gem. She told us, very firmly and with a big smile, that we were not allowed to order the same thing as last time and that we should try something new on every visit. We laughed, but she had a point, so we forced ourselves to be brave.

I went for the chicken supreme, which I would honestly never normally order in a restaurant. It arrived as a generous fillet under a silky creamy mushroom sauce, scattered with parsley, with crisp green beans, vine cherry tomatoes and a pretty dusting of paprika around the rim of the plate. It was comforting and properly delicious. Charlie had the king prawns, which came in a rich tomato sauce laid over a soft flatbread, finished with fresh dill, a little parmesan, vine tomatoes and a wedge of lemon, served on the prettiest blue and white hand painted platter. The portions, as always at Amici, were enormous. It did not disappoint, and then it was back to the hotel for an early night.

We had to leave the hotel at 6am for our ferry from Dover to Calais. We always book priority boarding with lounge access, partly for the comfy seats and the food on board, and partly because boarding first means we get our favourite seats right at the front of the boat for the best view. To be fair, leaving Dover it is usually grey and muggy and not much to look at, but it is the principle of it.

The crossing comes with free wifi, but a word to the wise: do not count on it for proper work. A few emails are fine, but there is no chance of building a website on a ninety minute hop to Calais. Either way there is always something to get on with, and of course something to eat and drink.

Here is the strange and lovely thing. I have never once stepped off the boat in Calais and not been greeted by glorious sunshine. Every single time, Charlie and I look at each other and say why on earth do we not do this more often. Whether the sun simply always shines in Calais or we are just very lucky, we will never know, and I am not about to question it.

We have done Reims, we have done Epernay, we have done Paris, we have done Ghent. This time we fancied somewhere new, so we headed west to Honfleur, about two and a half hours from Calais. Honfleur sits in Normandy and a little research told us it would be impossibly picturesque, all tall narrow buildings and winding streets that occasionally feel a touch like old English lanes. That is no accident, because once upon a time the English owned this corner of the world.

We chose a tall townhouse hotel right in the centre of town called the Hotel du Dauphin. We picked it specifically for the location, because we wanted to walk everywhere and skip the taxis entirely, and on that front it was perfect. What we did not know was that one of the buildings near the hotel had partially collapsed. The roads around the harbour and the back of the square where our hotel sits had both been cordoned off, which meant a long detour on foot around the winding cobbled streets, dragging our luggage behind us, after an early start and a long drive. Not exactly the dreamy arrival we had pictured.

The reason we had no warning is a useful tip in itself. We had booked through a hotels site, and the notification about the disruption almost certainly went out, but because we were not logged into the app at the time we never saw it. Lesson learned: log in and turn your notifications on before you travel. Either way, we laughed it off, found the hotel eventually, and got ourselves checked in.

I will be honest with you, because that is what this Honfleur travel guide is for. The Hotel du Dauphin is a basic three star and the room itself was nothing to write home about. We were really only there to lay our heads, so that was fine, but I want you to know what to expect. The redeeming features were that the bathrooms have recently been updated, which put a smile on my face, and the shower pressure was genuinely excellent. The beds were clean and comfortable, and honestly that is most of what you need.

There is a gym of sorts, with a treadmill, a rowing machine and a few weights, but it was doubling as a laundry room, so I was a little underwhelmed, to put it politely. If the gym matters to you, plan to run outside instead, which is exactly what we ended up doing. For location alone, though, the Dauphin does the job, and the centre of Honfleur is so walkable that you will barely be in your room anyway.

By the time we had wrestled our bags to the room we were starving, so we headed straight out along the harbour for a late lunch. We found a spot serving charcuterie boards and oysters and dived right in. It was the perfect first taste of Honfleur. The rose flowed too, mostly from Cotes de Provence, and with the sun out I am a firm believer that you simply cannot go wrong with a chilled glass of pink.

We lingered there a while, did a bit of research for somewhere to eat that evening, then wandered off to explore the winding streets and admire the old lighthouse before dinner crept up on us.

Lesson number two for your weekend in Honfleur: book ahead. We rocked up to the restaurant at the top of our list and could not get a table, because the best places fill up fast. So we did a lap, found another harbour restaurant and settled in. It was buzzing, and the poor girl looking after us was clearly run off her feet and a little short staffed, so our food and drinks took a while. We were in no hurry though. We were there for a good time, not a fast time.

We ordered a bottle of wine to share and went all in on a seafood platter, which arrived piled with lobster, langoustine, prawns, whelks, snails and oysters. Most of it was absolutely delicious. I will be honest, the snails and whelks were not for us, but each to their own. And then there is the bread. I do not know what it is about a French stick and proper salted butter, but paired with the seafood and that little pot of seaweed mayonnaise butter, it is heaven. We finished with the classic French three piece dessert selection that comes with coffee, because of course we wanted to try it all. The chocolate one was too sweet for us and the creme brulee was fine, but the biscotti mousse was the clear winner.

If you remember one thing from this entire Honfleur travel guide, make it this. We got up early for a run, because the hotel gym was never going to cut it, and headed down to the harbour, tracking right towards the old bunkers along the front, running up and down until we had our steps in well before nine. Then, starving, we went hunting for breakfast and landed on La Maison du Tripot, a brunch and tea house tucked beside the little Jardin du Tripot.

It looks like an old house lovingly converted, all quaint and traditional and old school charm, with a stream running through the garden beside it. We were shown to a beautifully set table for two and given the choice of an English or a French breakfast. We went English, because why not, and what arrived genuinely made me gasp.

Eggs cooked your way, a meat selection or smoked salmon, with avocado for anyone vegetarian, plus yoghurt, juice, a French stick, a freshly baked sweet muffin with a little icing, and a trio of homemade jams: apricot, strawberry and a chocolate spread. My first thought was this is a ridiculous amount of food and I will never finish it. Reader, we demolished every last crumb.

Everything, and I mean everything, was made in house in their tiny kitchen. The butter tasted like butter and cheese melted into one glorious thing. The smoked salmon was wonderful, the scrambled eggs perfect, the bread homemade, the yoghurt homemade, the muffins homemade. I had not even wanted chocolate for breakfast, but I spooned a little onto a warm muffin straight from the oven and very nearly fell off my chair. What was meant to be a taste became the whole jar, and the moment Charlie tried it that was that. It was gone in five minutes flat, on top of everything else. The staff were lovely and the place was packed, which tells you everything. If you go to Honfleur, put La Maison du Tripot at the very top of your list. It honestly deserves its own write up, and I may well give it one.

Properly fuelled and already 6,000 steps in, we set off to explore. Honfleur is a dream for a slow wander, and I made a beeline for the antique shops, of which there are seven or eight in the main town that I found, and probably more. I filmed a little antiques tour for my TikTok as I went. Nothing came home with me in the end, because it was either eye wateringly expensive or simply not my taste, but there are some glorious pieces here for big traditional homes and smaller ones alike. It really does come down to what you love, and I love this kind of mooch.

Then I walked into a little womens boutique and fell head over heels for two pairs of Italian made shoes you cannot get in the UK. I told myself I was not here to shop, but they stayed in my head all afternoon as we wandered the streets and the harbour, and I knew, deep down, that I would be going back for them.

Next we found the oyster boat, a quirky little ship moored on the harbour that has been turned into an oyster and wine bar. Friendly people, fresh oysters and a glass of wine in the sunshine. What more could you possibly want from an afternoon.

Feeling energetic, we climbed up to the Mont Joli viewpoint, only about eleven minutes from the hotel but a properly steep eleven minutes. The reward is the whole of Honfleur laid out beneath you, and it is absolutely worth the puff up the hillside.

From there we decided to walk down to the beach, around twenty five minutes east, and on the way we stumbled across La Ferme Saint Simeon, a stunning luxury hotel with beautiful gardens, gorgeous outbuildings and the kind of interiors and estuary views that stop you in your tracks. I stood there thinking why on earth did we not book to stay here. I did not want to leave, but the beach was calling.

The beach itself is huge, a long sweep of pale sand, though it was wild and windy the day we visited and the sea was choppy. We walked a big circuit and tried for some photos, but my hair had other ideas, so we abandoned that plan and headed back towards the harbour.

By now the sun was properly out, and here is a real insider tip for your weekend in Honfleur. On the left hand side of the harbour, near the carousel, there is a spot that catches the sun right up until around half past nine or quarter to ten. We were lucky enough to grab a seat and parked ourselves there with a couple of wines, soaking up the atmosphere for a good two hours before dinner. Pure bliss.

Because we had lingered so happily over our wine, it was getting late, so we did not sit down for dinner at L Absinthe until around nine, which actually worked in our favour because we managed to get a table. L Absinthe is one of Honfleur’s classic harbour side restaurants on the Quai de la Quarantaine, with exposed beams, stone walls, fireplaces and white tablecloths. It feels a touch more refined than the typical tourist spots around the port.

My one tip here: do everything you can to get a table inside. We were initially seated outside, and while I had been craving that for my last night, a peek at the interior on my way to the loo changed my mind completely. It is beautiful in there. Our lovely waiter kindly brought us inside to a great table, and I am so glad he did.

I went for a Pouilly Fume, and to start I had six prawns and oysters while Charlie had the squid, which our waiter highly recommended. Then came the main event. The steaks were around forty euros each, but there was a sharing steak for eighty eight, so we thought, why not spend the extra few euros and share. Well. The waiter actually wheeled over a second table to attach to ours, and we braced ourselves. It was the single biggest steak I have ever seen in my life. People at neighbouring tables were turning round, laughing, even cheering, and asking the waiter what on earth it was and where they could get one. It came with salad and chips and would have comfortably fed a family of four. We are not shy eaters, Charlie and I, and even we could not finish it. We declined dessert, utterly defeated and very happy.

On the walk back, completely shattered after a run, 30,000 steps and that monster steak, we heard a live band drifting down one of the streets where we had eaten breakfast. We looked at each other and knew we had to investigate. There was a six piece band playing to a big crowd dancing in the middle of a closed off street, everyone having the time of their lives. I have no idea whether it happens every Saturday or was a one off, but it was joyful. We only caught the last three songs before they packed up, and I was gutted we had not arrived earlier. Honfleur is not really a late night party town, although we did spot one livelier spot still going at the back of the harbour, so there are options. If you are heading over, do a quick search for any street music while you are there, because it is not to be missed.

On our final morning we left Honfleur around 10am, not because our ferry was early (it was an 8pm crossing) but because we wanted to break up the drive and explore somewhere new on the way. On the recommendation of both my auntie and a bit of online research, we headed for Le Touquet, often described as where wealthy Parisians holiday, and we could see why the moment we arrived.

It opens with a vast, beautiful white sand beach, much like Honfleur, but with far more going on: beachfront apartments that reminded me of Brighton or Portsmouth, smart shops and a real buzz. I made straight for the antique market, which turned out to be more of a boot sale meets antiques mix. Get there early and I suspect you would find real gems, but by 2pm the pickings were slim. As they say, one person’s clutter is another person’s treasure.

Wander back from the front, though, and Le Touquet turns seriously high end. Beautiful boulevards, art galleries, gorgeous cafes, smart shops, statues and the kind of multimillion pound houses you pass on the way in. We popped into the grand Hotel Barriere Le Westminster for a look around and it was exactly what you would hope a five star hotel to be, traditional and stunning and just that bit more. We were a little gutted we had not built in a night here, so do consider it if you are getting on or off the ferry.

For our final meal we went to Perard, and it is a must if you visit. On one side there is a seafood bar where you order and they bring it straight to the high stools, and on the other a more traditional sit down restaurant, which is where we chose to round off the trip. After everything I had eaten over the weekend, I had decided my favourite was simply prawns, so I ordered them to start, assuming the sixteen euros would buy me half a dozen. Twelve turned up, with the all important basket of bread and butter, and the couple beside us laughed along with me at the glorious excess. Charlie had half a lobster, far more modest. I worked my way through them and made Charlie eat three, all that garlic and mayonnaise butter and lemon, absolutely divine. For mains I had the lemon sole, beautifully deboned for me and served with mash, asparagus and aubergine, while Charlie ordered a steak, which in a seafood restaurant I felt was a small crime, but each to their own. It was one of the best seafood meals I have ever had and brilliant value. I waddled out, and I will be thinking about that meal, and that breakfast, for a long time.

This is a romantic little spot, ideal for couples who love wandering, eating well and chasing the sunset with a glass of something cold. It is wonderful for foodies, especially anyone who adores seafood, and lovely for keen walkers, given how much you can cover on foot. Antique hunters and slow travellers will be in their element. It is less suited to anyone after a big late night scene or a beach holiday with reliable sunshine, and the central hotels lean basic rather than luxurious, so set your expectations accordingly and you will fall for it just as we did.

Honfleur is one of the prettiest, most charming, most delicious little places we have ever driven to from the UK. Yes, our hotel was basic and our arrival was a faff, but none of that mattered against the candy coloured harbour, the golden evening light, the antique shops and meal after glorious meal. From the oysters to the prawns to that impossible sharing steak, and somehow a humble breakfast outshining all of it, this was a weekend that punched well above its three day weight.

If you have a passport, a bit of stamina and a serious appetite, I cannot recommend a weekend in Honfleur highly enough. Tack on a few hours in Le Touquet on the way home and you have one of the easiest, most rewarding little European escapes going. We will absolutely be back, and next time I am booking that gorgeous hotel on the hill, getting to the street party on time, and going straight back for those Italian shoes.

The easiest route is to drive to Dover, take the ferry across to Calais, then drive roughly two and a half hours west into Normandy. We broke the journey with an overnight stop in Ashford near Dover, which made the early ferry far less stressful, and booked priority boarding with lounge access for a comfier crossing.

Absolutely. Honfleur is compact, walkable and ridiculously pretty, with a gorgeous harbour, winding cobbled streets, brilliant seafood and lovely viewpoints. Two to three days is plenty to soak it up without rushing, which makes it a perfect weekend in Honfleur from the UK.

Seafood, hands down. Think oysters, langoustine, prawns and big sharing platters, all served with proper French bread and salted butter. The single best meal of our trip, though, was actually breakfast at La Maison du Tripot, where everything is homemade in house.

If location is your priority, a central townhouse hotel like the Hotel du Dauphin puts you within walking distance of everything, though the central options tend to be fairly basic three stars. For a special occasion, the luxurious La Ferme Saint Simeon just outside town is breathtaking and well worth a look.

Two to three days is ideal. That gives you time to eat your way around the harbour, browse the antique shops, climb to the Mont Joli viewpoint, walk to the beach and still enjoy a slow golden hour with a glass of wine.

Yes, especially if your ferry is later in the day. Le Touquet has a vast white sand beach, smart shops, art galleries and a high end feel, plus the wonderful seafood restaurant Perard. It makes a lovely few hours to break up the drive back to Calais.