Wow! Can you believe the month is nearly up and I will be home on Tuesday night?????

We've been to Honfleur, Etretat, Fecamp, Allouville, and yesterday to Versailles for the entire day. We've seen lots of the back roads of France... very picturesque with lots of wild flowers and flower boxes.

Anyway, I finally got to write a LOOOOOOONG item on the trip to the Beaches of Normandie, so forewarned is forearmed! Beware of eyestrain!

Tomorrow the Armada begins, so we will probably be busy right up until time to leave. Gotta go shopping now! Have a few souvenirs in mind, although in general everything is either too expensive or just not interesting to me (usually the former).


Here we go:
June 14-15, 2003…

This comes a week late, but for those who know me… well, that’s not too bad! Last Saturday and Sunday we set out to explore the more northern reaches of Normandie. We were initially stalled a bit by a big thunderstorm that came through Mt. St. Aignan in the morning.

We took A13 past Caen (pronounced more like “ka”, with a very faint nasal “n” at the end), then took the major highway (gee, I should have gotten the map out of the car!) to Avranches, when DH needed a break; just as well, the sky was black and boiling again. Just as soon as we pulled up at a Carrefour store, the skies opened up again, with heavy rain and big bolts of lightning. We ate our lunch… baguette with cheese and tomatoes and water, and DH promptly fell asleep for an hour while I read more of Madame Bovary, written by Gustav Flaubert who was born in Rouen and lived there about 160 years ago. The story took place in those same times and was an attack on the bourgeoise lifestyle… Great book! I enjoyed it immensely.

Got back on the highway and went to Pontorson, from where we approached Mt St Michel from the south. Mt St Michel was built by the monks after Archangel Michael told the bishop of Avranches to build an abbey on the small island… apparently a “build it and they will come” proposition, since it has been a pilgrimage destination since AD 708. The poor monks had to ferry the granite across the bay from the mainland (it’s not too far… just a few hundred yards: although one book says the granite came from the nearby isle of Chausey) and then lug it up the hill… almost straight up! The rock is 260 feet high, and the abbey rises straight up from that. Today’s abbey is built on the remains of a Romanesque church, which was built on the remains of a Carolingian church…. All have the vaulted ceilings, which help to support what’s on top, and that’s a lot of weight!

So after you climb up the 900 or so steps to reach the top and pay your money, the tour is all down hill…. Winding through the layers of the Gothic abbey, seeing where the monks ate in silence, the cloisters, etc. In one room, there is a giant treadmill, used up until the 19th century, where six workers jammed themselves inside and walked, hamster-style, to haul two-ton loads of stones and supplies up on sledges with ancient wooden rollers which rolled on a ramp which is nearly vertical. Construction took more than 500 years- from 1017 to 1521. And Brittany and Normandie are constantly claiming “ownership” of this important monument, as it lies nearly on the border between the two regions.

The Grande Rue is lined with 15th- and 16th-century houses, primarily all stone, although there are some in the half-timbered style which is commonly seen in Rouen, too. Even this street is a steep and narrow climb…and jammed with tourists. Good we weren’t there during tourist season! Even though the temperatures were pleasant, the climb was very hot, and the rooms get stuffy with all the visitors.

One of the neatest things about the area is the wide sand flats surrounding the island, going nearly as far as the eye can see. The tides are the highest on the continent, commonly 50 feet or so, between high and low tide! There are also patches of quicksand, so it’s not recommended that visitors go out wandering around on the flats unless they are with a local guide. There must also be tours out onto the flats, because we saw groups of “pilgrims” walking toward the abbey from far away. When the tides come in, it’s with the “speed of a galloping horse”; in the past, many people have been caught unawares and “lost”. Currently the causeway connects the abbey with the mainland, but a few years ago construction was begun on a bridge that will replace the causeway and allow better, more natural circulation of the waters of the bay (the abbey is pretty well silted in now). Even so, when you park your car in the lot below the causeway, you must check the tide schedule, because the parking lot will most likely be below high tide line (our deadline was 6:30 pm)!

When we left Mt St Michel, we went on a search for the Calvados (accent on the first syllable) and the Pommeau de Normandie (an aperitif) that are made from the apples grown in the region. Then we took the highway back to Avranches, got onto a smaller highway, and headed to Granville, the “Monaco of the North” (one casino), where we had a reservation for the night at the Hotel Grande Large. Seems they like to exaggerate a bit. But the street to the hotel is nearly straight up and has a switchback or two… then a steep descent into the parking garage. It’s built on the cliff face on the bay and has a “boardwalk” along the coast. So even though they say “beach”, it’s not my idea of a beach. I got my feet wet…and dirty from all the junk floating around in it. But I was not about to go wading around on the stone ramp; was not looking to slip or to get dunked, as the water was quite chilly for a Floridian! Been some time since I’ve relished those water temps! I guess the sandy beaches are just south of the city. Dinner was, finally, seafood! We had wandered into the harbor area and ate outside opposite the boats and nets. I ordered a demi-plateau (sounds and looks mountainous) of “fruits de mer” and got a few langostinos, a few oysters (very salty), one smallish and delicate crab (as compared to a blue crab), a stone crab which was a bit dense and dry (hey, I thought you only ate the big claw, anyway), a few pink shrimp, a few dozen bulots (in the whelk family), and another sort of small sea snail with a nearly black shell. To eat all this, I got a whole handful of utensils; a cracker, a small, curved two-pronged thing that looked like something the dentist might use, a small but wide fork (like a tiny spade), and a “needle” to pull things out. What fun! What a mess! I could not even eat it all, even though DH helped. I tried to save the best shells to transport home, but by the end of the meal, I knew it would be a stinky proposition, and, anyway, they were not really very pretty.

The night air here in Normandie can be quite chilly, and was that night in Granville. But even with the balcony door open wide all night, it was angled away from the sea, so the room was hot all night. And loud- from cars zooming around corners and birds shrieking in the sky, even at night. The ear plugs from the plane helped a lot, although one fell out at some point, then I had to switch it from ear to ear as I turned in my sleep (I learned to take them from our last experience in Nancy, across from the bus and train stations). 

In the morning, I was not in the mood to eat the breakfast, which did not look at all appetizing to me, especially for the price...so we drove a ways and stopped at a bar that was open. Yep, people were there at 10 am on Sunday, drinking beer! A woman even came in and sat, drinking at the bar. They told us they served breakfast, and we ordered chocolate croissants…. Then noticed the guy slipped out of the bar and ran down to the local bakery for them. But for the first time since we left home, we were offered café grande and got a huge mug of coffee! Boy, although they take their coffee, espresso, and stuff seriously,….It’s very expensive [1.2-2.5 Euros (1 Euro= about $1.16) for a demitasse cup of cafe]. So we really miss our bottomless cups of coffee and sodas that we get in the States! It’s hard to stay hydrated here, because the water doesn’t really seem to quench our thirst that much. I won’t order bottled water here, so I order a “carafe d’eau”, which is a pitcher of tap water… generally at not much more than room temp, either, as they do not use ice. Once or twice we were given ice, because we were recognized as Americans, and we must be known all over for liking ice in our drinks!

Continuing toward our second pilgrimage, we drive the back roads to Coutances, then St Lo, which was a key communications area during WWII. It suffered so badly, it became known as the “capital of ruins”. It was liberated by the Americans on June 19, and its rebuilding was with US support, especially from Baltimore. It’s also known as the horse capital of France. Carenton was next, then Sainte-Mere-Eglise, a historic town during the war. At 2:30 am on June 6, 1944, the 82nd Airborne Division was dropped over the town, which was the beginning of the D-Day operations. Actually, the 101st Division was also dropped in the area…. A total of 14,000 men, 25-30 parachutists per DC3, took over 900 drops to accomplish, and 2500 men were killed in the attempt. John Steele’s parachute was hung up on the bell-tower of the church (recreated in “The Longest Day”), and every summer, a dummy is strung up in that position to recall the event. This area is “Kilometre 0” (and one book says is the first French town to be liberated) on the Liberty Highway which reached all across France to Metz and Bastogne. When we arrived, church was in session and appeared to be either First Communion day or some sort of special graduation day, as the little girls were all dressed up, and mothers were picking up special orders from the bakery. The small church has a stained glass window which honors the American paratroopers. Incidentally, the small towns here, along this area, fly the American flag, too. It was a welcome sight.

With some difficulty, we got onto one of the tiny roads going out to the coast, where we visited Utah Beach, at St Marie-du-Mont on the Cotentin Peninsula, the furthest west of the D-Day landing beaches; this is where the 4th Infantry Division landed at 6:30 am, nearly 2 miles south of its intended destination, but in an area where the Nazi forces were weak. Forces here had an “easy time of it”, as the beach is fringed with low sand dunes, not high, rock cliffs. This division was to meet up with the parachutists and regroup in the labyrinth of hedgerows and marshlands of the Peninsula. It took 52 LCPVs (in two waves), each with 30 men, and 8 LCTs loaded with bulldozer tanks, and a fourth wave of 2 detachments of Battalions of Engineers to clear the beaches, etc. There is a small museum and a few memorials, including one which helps to point out the location of each of the ships offshore. I have some seashells from here; ironically some big, deep “boat shells” and mussels are the predominant ones. While scouting for a book at the shop there, a woman with a German accent and speaking some German asked if I spoke English. She asked something about “airbourne”…. But I think the upshot is she wanted to talk to me. She said she had been in St. Lo all during the war (if she was German and living in France, I guess she was not a Nazi sympathizer); she said it never left her mind totally… it was always there, and she seemed very grateful to the Americans for the liberation. That will leave a lasting impression on me.

We back-tracked to Carenton, then drove up to Grandcamp-les-bains for lunch at the harbor, which we had purchased at the bakery at St. Mere; baguettes with tuna and cheese…. Crumbs galore! And chips, a drink and dessert of our choice for about 3.5 Euros… one of the only bargains we have seen.

Then on to la Pointe du Hoc, 8 miles west of St-Laurent, the German machine gun post high on the limestonecliff, with its masses of reinforced concrete pillboxes. We must have hit it hard, as the ground is still pockmarked with deep holes (much larger than at Verdun, not surprisingly). This is the place which was recreated in part of “Saving Private Ryan”; Colonel Rudder and his 225 men (only 90 survived) who somehow managed to scale the cliffs and capture the German defenses which were capable of bombarding both the Utah and Omaha Beaches. Because of the heavy bombings it had sustained prior to June 6, the 155 mm guns had been withdrawn and relocated further back, unknown to the Americans. So when, by 7 am the Rangers had reached the top of the cliff, the Nazi counter-attacks caused the heavy losses of their ranks.

There is a huge Normandy American Cemetery outside Colleville St Laurent; covering some 173 acres, it contains nearly 9400 servicemen (and a few women), 307 of which are unidentified unknowns. There is also the Garden of the Missing giving the names of 1557 people; some have subsequently been identified, including twin brothers. It’s located in a beautifully landscaped area, within sight of the beaches and the coast, just a short distance from Omaha Beach. We were there at Taps, twice, when they lowered flags. I took my handful of flags with me (all made in the USA, thank you very much) and was able to stick one in a flower arrangement…. But the cemeteries all seem very manicured… I was afraid they would all be taken and tossed out by morning if I left them; I hope I’m wrong on that.

Just a short drive away is Omaha Beach, a low area surrounded by a few hills further inland. I thought we were in the wrong place… it’s a public bathing beach and swarming with sun seekers. We did not see any memorials or anything, so perhaps we did not get to the right area. One book says you can still see war wreckage, but we did not notice that.

We pressed on, past 6 pm by now, to Aromanches-les-bains, where you can see all the leftovers of the “mulberry”, concrete, artificial harbors which were dragged across the Channel by the British; this is Gold Beach. I’m a bit uncertain about all of this, but at least part of it formed floating quays, pontoon bridges and roads, etc., to allow for quick unloading of transport ships. There were some of these also at Omaha, but I don’t think they are generally visible or noticeable now.

Through all of this, there were very few Americans to be seen on our travels. The most we’ve seen was at the Beaches and cemeteries. But the French and a few Germans seemed to make up the bulk of the visitors to these war sites. And we were there at almost exactly the 59th anniversary. Apparently big plans are under way for the 60th anniversary- “80 days of emotion and celebration” with fireworks, masses, commemorative walks and ceremonies, dedication of new monuments and memorials, etc. Unfortunately we did not get to Caen to see the memorial or the Pegasus Bridge… It would take a few days, at the very least, to cover things in greater depth and get a better understanding of the whole thing and to see the museums, etc.

Driving around the French countryside has been very interesting…. The hills and the trees are beautiful, but many of the trees are planted in hedgerows or windbreaks, which make them look a bit strange, especially while they are younger. The roadsides are very clean… there’s very little litter. And nearly every house has its flowerboxes or pots of geraniums on the windowsills. The wild flowers are plentiful and beautiful, too. The northern part of Normandie has many houses made entirely of granite blocks or stone, some brick, but not too much. And many of the homes along the north coast seem very old and must have survived the war; surprisingly there are also a few old but pretty large farms in that immediate area, too.