Journal Entry 6--Monday, Oct. 20, 2014--Caen to Mt. St. Michel to Chinon

This sight from the bus took my breath away!  I am also pleased with the photograph.



6.  Monday, Oct. 20, 2015--Back up to the top of the Hotel Moderne for breakfast, I had some time to reflect on Normandy and Caen in particular before leaving the place.  I liked the aged beauty and simplicity of Caen, and so much effective restoration had been performed, that what had been a huge amount of war damage was no longer evident.  The church we attended, however, had not been thoroughly restored, much simpler glass than the original stained version was in many of the windows.
     After breakfast, we boarded the bus to travel to Mt. St. Michel.  I sat in yesterday's spot, the right-side seat, two back from the rear door.  I was very comfortable and surrounded by people who were easy to visit with, and the view was great.  We drove through numerous traffic circles and eventually arrived in a very rural area.  Farms were not anchored by a single house,  but by complexes consisting often of two or three stone houses, barns, sheds, etc. surrounded by a perimeter stone wall. The set up looked made for multi-generational headquarters for serious farming.  Some fields had dried cornstalks standing throughout, and many of  these were being cut for sileage.  Houses in this area had huge stacks of firewood cut for the winter ahead.
     We stopped for a rest and break at a small inn, and I walked around and looked the area over.  In the distance, I could see a flock of sheep being herded through a low crossing. We were told that the sheep grazed on the salty grass of this area and their meat gained a salt taste that made it much sought after as mouton salé. Sure enough, I found it for sale later in a Paris meat market.  We reboarded the bus and headed toward the monastery.  We were on the southwest edge of Normandy, near its border with Brittany.  At one time, both provinces claimed Mt. St. Michel, which lies at the bottom of a gulf formed the Norman Cotentin Peninsula to the right and the Peninsula of Brittany, jutting out into the
Atlantic to its left.

 

 

Mont Saint Michel is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

 One of my favorite pictures

 

 

 

 

     Finally, I saw the monastery rising above the mists in the distance--much as I imagined it, but even more dramatic.  We finally arrived at the immense parking lot and took our place.  We then walked a long distance to an area of shops and restaurants which sat landward from the causeway.  An enormous, carefully engineered construction project was underway to replace the causeway with a low, elevated bridge to allow water to come in behind the mount and clear out the silt which had built up over the years.  A dam was also being built to control the flow of water from the mainland.
For the moment, the unfinished bridge paralleled the causeway to its right.

 



 

 

    
     Louis led us on the long walk across the causeway and up past the village at the base of the mount and through a passageway and up a steep incline to the monastery.  We kept climbing until we reached a chapel area and resumed taking pictures. 

 



   Louis distributed listening devices and instructed us briefly in their use, but once he mentioned the "POSE"  button. Group members gave puzzled looks.  Knowing the French pronounce au like an English o, I quickly added "pause button," and our gang understood.
    A docent met us and explained details and history as I followed and took in great views of the surrounding area--the Channel beyond and the construction on the mainland side.  A major highlight was the cloister (la merveille) with its beautiful courtyard--an indoor outdoors surrounded by heavy, awesomely strong stonework.  Here was a lovely meditation garden with grass and flowers growing in a surprisingly large flat area amazingly high up.

 

  

      We continued to explore the interior of the monastery--to see chapels and dining halls done in medieval stonework that was amazingly heavy.  The effort to move all these stones and this much tile up here must have been staggering.  The floors were usually covered in impressive tile designs.



  

 

 

Who's the guy by the wall adjusting his camera?

 



 



 

 

 

  Past a certain point, Louis gave us time to explore on our own and gave us a time to meet at the base.  As we worked our way through the maze of dining chambers, chapels, and vaults, a tourist older than I, Miriam Stauff, lingered, took pictures, and seemed fascinated by the place.  I stayed with her and moved slowly through the rooms, too, so she would not be left up here alone.
   As she and I finally emerged through a portal down below, we saw Louis, who was coming to fetch us, since he had already met with the rest of the group and had sent them across the causeway.  He was patient with us and realized why I had stayed with Miriam.  We went through the bottom of Mt. St. Michel and through a very narrow space between high stone walls.  I barely fit.  We emerged, found a pay-toilette for 50 Eurocents, and  partook of the facilities. Then we walked back across the causeway with Louis, who pointed out the new dam under construction on the other side.

     Louis Bideau shot these pics as he patiently shepherded stragglers, Miriam and Gordon, back to the mainland.

 

     We ate lunch at a restaurant across the causeway and headed back to the bus for our afternoon ride to Chinon in the Loire Valley.  It was a lengthy, circuitous route.  Along the way, I thought of the film The Lion in Winter about Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. Chinon was where Henry ruled half of France and all of England.  I wanted to see how much the setting for the movie and the actual place resembled each other.  We arrived at the small town on the Vienne River (tributary of the Loire) well before dark.  Our bus was able to negotiate narrow, village streets which finally took us to a lovely, tree-filled square in the middle of town, which the Hotel de France faced on the south side.
    In Caen, porters had carried our luggage to our rooms, but no such luxury here.  We helped Louis and Herve move our bags across the square and into the lobby of the hotel.  There we met, and Louis gave us Best-Western plastic keys to our rooms.  Mine was on the third floor, which could be reached only by an ancient oak stairway--none of that elevator business here. The old stairway was remarkably sturdy and did not creak at all.  I had the far-west room on the third floor next to the Hians.  With a tote, a carry-on, and a large wheeled suitcase, I strained to climb the stairs, but I made it and entered my room--which was plenty large enough, with French doors that led out to a balcony overlooking the square.  The French door/window was almost floor-to-ceiling, and I had an awesome view from the balcony of Chinon Castle on a height to the right overlooking the town and river below.  Being on this wonderful little square suited me perfectly. I immediately began to love this place--part of the old France I had often pictured and dreamed of.

Louis said the small round window in the top floor of that building is called l'oeil de boeuf (bull's eye) and that servants usually lived in those least-comfortable attic rooms.

 



 

 

          Finding enough floor space for my large bag was a chore, but I settled into the room just fine and cleaned up for dinner with the group.  We met in the breakfast/dining room down behind the lobby and were surprised and pleased to find this evening's meal would be served right there in the hotel, rather than in the nearby Bistro de la Place.  After a hard day of touring, this simple convenience  pleased me.
     Dinner served  with wine was delicious; afterwards we had a meeting to discuss alternatives to visiting Giverny after we arrived in Paris.  Monet's estate had been listed in our itinerary, but we would not be in that area before it closed for the season on Oct. 31.  Some were so upset they wanted to make a special trip there from Caen, but that would not have worked.  Louis reminded us we would go to Versailles on that day in the morning, and the best he could do was to take us to a museum in the afternoon, and the choice was either the Orangerie of the newly re-opened Picasso Museum.  A vote was not taken, but we filled in our preferences on a sheet Louis passed around, and the discussion was lively since the group was almost evenly divided on the choice.  I was going to visit Orangerie on my next tour anyway, so I favored the Picasso.
     I got another plastic key from the office, because my door closer upstairs worked all too well; I had walked out without the key, and the door slammed shut before I realized it.  This would happen to me again the next morning, so getting used to a new setting was proving to be an adjustment.
    The meeting ended, and we headed to our rooms to rest for a full day in Chinon tomorrow.  In the morning, we would be on our own; then we would eat lunch together and go up above the town to tour the Chateau in the afternoon.



 View of  Chateau Chinon from the Hotel de France

 

Dinner at the Hotel de France started with bread, wine, water, and salad.

 

Fin