Your holiday home in Neufchatel en Bray
The holiday home
Take a break… you have arrived in Normandy.
Welcome to Le Secret des Cordelières, a family holiday home located in Neufchatel en Bray, Normandy, on the Avenue Verte London–Paris cycle route. Easily accessible from the main roads and motorways, this small town is an ideal stopover for cyclists, hikers and motorcyclists, as well as a comfortable base for family holidays, groups of friends or business stays.
This fully equipped large-capacity holiday home sleeps 8 to 10 guests. It includes a private garage for your car, bicycles or motorbikes, and a secluded private garden in the town centre, with shops and restaurants within walking distance.
In the heart of the Pays de Bray, the property is a convenient starting point for exploring Dieppe, historic Rouen, Amiens Cathedral, the Bay of Somme, the cliffs of Étretat and the Seine Valley. Disneyland Paris, Mont-Saint-Michel and the Paris region are also within reach. Whether you are travelling along the Avenue Verte, touring Normandy by motorbike or planning a relaxing family break, Le Secret des Cordelières offers comfort, calm and a practical location.
✓4 BEDROOMS
✓BABY COT
✓TERRACE
✓GARDEN
✓GARAGE
✓DISHWASHER
✓WASHING MACHINE
✓TUMBLE DRYER
PETS:
ON PRIOR
REQUEST
Photos & Slideshow
Amenities & Services included in your holiday rental
Kitchen
Bedrooms and leisure
Bathroom
Garden
Garage
✓ Doctor
✓ Pharmacies
✓ Veterinarians
✓ EV charging point
✓ Bakery (120 m)
✓ Restaurant (140 m)
✓ Saturday market (170 m)
✓
✓ Cinema (170 m)
✓ Bowling (1.2 km)
✓ Aquatic centre (800 m)
✓ Bike rental
Book your holiday home in Neufchatel en Bray
Would you like to book Le Secret des Cordelières for a family stay, a holiday with friends or a few days in Normandy? You can contact the owners directly or find the holiday home on partner booking platforms.
Partner platform
Direct booking makes it easier to speak with the owners. Partner platforms remain available for guests who prefer to book through Booking.com or Airbnb.
The forgotten letter
Dear friend,I am taking advantage of a quiet moment before the children wake up to finally write to you and tell you about our stay at Le Secret des Cordelières. I wanted to write earlier, but you know what it is like with children… Between shopping, meals, missing shoes and little arguments about who gets to sleep near the window, the days fly by.
And yet, we feel so good here.It had been a long time since we had felt this way: real family holidays, simple, lively and peaceful. Everything here invites you to slow down: the garden, the calm, the atmosphere of the place, the feeling of being somewhere else without being cut off from the world. We are discovering Neufchatel en Bray at our own pace, without rushing, as if we were enjoying a long Sunday that lasted several days. There is so much to do around the holiday home with children. Between walks, outings, simple pleasures and family activities, the days fill themselves quite naturally.
And it is so pleasant not to spend hours in the car taking the children to activities. Everything is within walking distance: bowling, the aquatic centre, the cinema and mini-golf. On Wednesday, Charles gave me a lovely gift: he took the children cycling on the Avenue Verte. I was able to enjoy a moment just for myself. And believe me, it did me a world of good. Knowing the children were outside, happy and busy in a place made for gentle walks, while I could finally take my time… what a luxury. I wandered around, breathed a little, and went to the museum. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to walk alone, without a snack bag, without a water bottle to refill, without a little voice calling me every thirty seconds.
But above all, I must tell you what happened yesterday.
At the bottom of the garden, there is a small little house. At first, I barely noticed it; in any case, it was always closed. But while I was cooking, I saw the children going inside. I went after them, ready to get them out of there quickly, but when I stepped into the little house, I stopped still.
I do not quite know how to explain it. There was something like an aura, an inexplicable warmth. Something soft, silent and deeply alive despite the abandonment. I felt as if I had entered an old 19th-century house, left there outside time, as if forgotten by the world.
I went upstairs, since the children were not downstairs, and there I found my three little rascals speechless. There was nothing there, not a piece of furniture, not a painting, not a photograph, but we stayed there looking at this timeless little house without saying a word for ten minutes. Then my eldest began to say it was money wasted. I thought they should turn it into a small museum. We were discussing it when Charles joined us. We all fell silent, and the children and I looked at their father, who had also quietly fallen under the spell of this little house.
Later, at the table, we talked about what could be done with it. I suggested turning it into a museum and, would you believe it, Jeanne — my daughter, my very own daughter — agreed with me against her father and her older brother. Even thinking about it now, I still can hardly believe it. Jean had his own idea too: for him, it should become a play area, a place forbidden to parents. Jacques agreed with him on that part. I think he is already dreaming of having his own bachelor pad; poor boy, he is like this little house, two centuries behind the times.
And then, how we laughed! At one point, Jeanne said they should put in an old table with old earthenware plates and one or two mannequins. Her father replied that it was silly to put plastic mannequins in a museum. And then my little six-year-old darling answered, as serious as a judge: “No, Dad, they should be mannequins like at the Musée Grévin, not like shop-window mannequins!” We burst out laughing. Seeing that little one leave her father speechless… I wish I had filmed it.
In short, Charles thinks it should be turned into an extra holiday cottage with two more bedrooms, a bathroom and a games room. Jacques wants a bedroom, a jacuzzi, a small lounge with a home cinema and the latest games console. Jean wants a small lounge, two games rooms and one room for the little museum that would make his sister happy. And Jeanne and I still want a small museum showing what life was like in a 19th-century home.
We all went to bed around three in the morning because poor little Jean was falling asleep standing up; otherwise, we would still be arguing about what to do with this little house that does not even belong to us.
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The heart of Neufchatel en Bray
If you are reading these lines, it means you have set foot in Neufchatel en Bray, where the roads have the softness of hedgerows and the air carries the scent of meadows that clings to memories. Here, people often say that the land has a secret: it folds, wrinkles and opens like fabric pulled too tightly… and that is how the Pays de Bray reveals its valleys, bocage landscapes and springs, as if nature had half-opened a chest.
But there is another secret, a gentler one, that maps do not show. You recognise it by its shape: a heart.
My grandfather used to say that long ago, beside a hollow lane, there lived a young farm girl. She had patient hands and a laugh that could silence rainy days. One evening at the fair, a young nobleman — one of those people called naïve because they were fair-minded — stopped in front of the stall where she sold milk, butter and fresh cheeses. He wanted to “taste the country”, he said. She replied: “Then you must taste what comes from the heart.”
They met again. Often. Too often for those who, as usual, would have liked to keep them apart… they were not from the same world. Over the seasons, the gossip grew tired. And through simple words, love did what love does best: it softened the edges.
They had children — two, then three — and those children grew up between grass and chalk, between hedges and stories. One winter, the mother wanted to mark the end of an old quarrel. She took the curd, pressed it gently, then whispered: “I want a shape that says what we do not always know how to say.” She moulded a heart.
The father smiled. The children understood something immense: sometimes, what we pass on best is not a name, nor land, but a gesture. So they decided that this heart would not remain a family secret.
They offered it to neighbours. Then to travellers. Then to passers-by. And little by little, the habit took hold: when people wanted to say thank you, when they wanted to say “come back”, when they wanted to say “I love you” without making a scene, they offered a heart-shaped Neufchâtel cheese.
Did it happen exactly like this? I do not know. Stories here have the politeness not to swear they are true. But they also have another quality: they say something essential.
So if you eat a piece of Neufchâtel while watching the day fade over the bocage, remember this: in this part of Normandy, people learned to put important things into a simple shape, and to offer them quietly.
Welcome to Neufchatel en Bray.
Note: this letter is an imagined tale written for the website. The most widespread legend links the heart shape to a tradition attributed to the Hundred Years’ War.
Discover Neufchâtel AOP, Normandy’s melting heart-shaped cheese