Mark 
“Beneath the Surface – A Dérive Through Ouistreham”
There’s something magnetic about walking with no destination. In Ouistreham, where war once etched its trauma onto the coastline, I found my rhythm among the side streets, away from the polished seafront and cafés built for comfort. I followed nothing, no map, no intent. Just the pull of curiosity.
Down Rue de la Haie aux Vaches, I stumbled on this house, eyes closed, shutters down, a silent fortress of memory. The grass had taken over the garden in quiet rebellion. Nature always reclaims what we abandon. A plaque by the door, weather-worn, almost illegible. A name, perhaps? A history erased by time and apathy.
I stood for a while, imagining voices inside. Was it a holiday home never loved, or a refuge that once rang with laughter and now holds only ghosts? This, to me, is the power of the dérive: letting emotion guide you, allowing forgotten corners to tell their story. I felt the weight of stillness here. No tragedy, no violence, just the absence of life. And yet, that speaks volumes.
Ouistreham is filled with façades like this. You walk, you listen, not with your ears but with your chest. You begin to notice the cracks, the effort of façades holding their breath, and the wild things creeping back in.
Sometimes the most profound stories aren’t where the crowds go. They’re in the houses that watch quietly as the world walks past.
Join me on my Next trip to Ouistreham
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Image Details
A small, whitewashed house with shuttered windows stands behind a neglected garden, overgrown with tall grass and weeds. Two symmetrical trees flank the house like silent sentries. A “For Sale” sign leans against the black fence, announcing the property’s vacancy. The grey sky presses down, adding a melancholy weight to the scene. Cracked pavement and empty parking bays in the foreground emphasise the quiet desolation.
© Mark Stothard MA ARPS
