 We drove about a great deal--the country at the back of Deauville, going away from the sea, is lovely--very like England--charming narrow roads with high banks and hedges on each side--big trees with spreading branches meeting overhead--stretches of green fields with cows grazing placidly and horses and colts gambolling about.  It is a great grazing and breeding country.  There are many haras (breeding stables) in the neighbourhood, and the big Norman posters are much in demand.  I have friends who never take their horses to the country.  They hire for the season a pair of strong Norman horses that go all day up and down hill at the same regular pace and who get over a vast amount of country.  We stopped once or twice when we were a large party, two or three carriages, and had tea at one of the numerous farmhouses that were scattered about.  Boiling water was a difficulty--milk, cider, good bread and butter, cheese we could always find--sometimes a galette, but a kettle and boiling water were entirely out of their habits.  They used to boil the water in a large black pot, and take it out with a big spoon.  However, it amused us, and the water really did boil. 
What amused the author and his companions?
The Norman Horses