so! last time i left you in the lovely loire valley, so an update on what we got up to since then..
From the Loire we drove up to St-Malo and spent the afternoon walking around the walls, admiring island forts, sailing boats and urine-soaked watchtowers. Michael refused to go into the last one despite promising photo potential. Jackass. There were loads of people participating in a very colourful scavenger hunt that focussed mainly on men in drag (often singing). We descended into the town proper and discovered it had been almost completely taken over by souvenir shops, most of which were making the most of the town’s (probably self-ascribed) moniker of ‘City of Pirates.’ (Cite de Corsaire DOES sound prettier.) After escaping the crush we set off for Mont-Saint Michel, which, especially at sunset, seems to have managed to retain its otherworldly beauty and charm despite the proverbial crapload of tourists descending on it each day. We ate dinner watching the light disappear over the water, to be replaced with floodlights (which were ok by us too). The motorhome community is obviously also a big fan, with a huge contingent parked up a little way back from the mount. We returned in the morning to find a now pay-and-display carpark (bummer) and thousands and thousands of people. Walking up the steep spiral streets was not so good for my back, or the hundreds of other people I ran into because there was literally no room to breathe, and I’m clumsy. The views and the gorgeous abbey itself were worth it though, despite the fact they had run out of english audioguides (and we thought they were prepared for tourists!) and the next free tour wasn’t til the afternoon. It was nice to wander by ourselves though, marvelling at how they had ingeniously built the abbey on top of the rock, and exploring the crypts below. The monks seemed to only manage an activity if the room they were in was devoted entirely to it. So, we saw huge halls to read in, huge halls to pray in, huge halls to meet guests in, huge halls to meet slightly less wealthy guests in, huge halls for thinking about god in, huge halls for thinking about OTHER things in (to clarify, things like JESUS and PRAYING)… and the list went on. We flouted the rules and spent the whole time thinking how magnificent it was, no matter what room we were in. Drove through the lovely countryside of Normandy up to a position from which to start our d-day beaches tour the nest day – near Cherbourg.
Drove down the peninsular, visiting the extremely pretty Barfleur (and barfleur point) and finding some delights on the way south – including a damn good kids playground. Not only did it have swings (which Michael couldn’t figure out) and a see-saw, but a roundabout thingy which didn’t seem prepared for our weight. We tried to go for a walk around the point (with the obligatory fort) but Michael kept throwing rocks and then I discovered the ‘danger’ signs were there because the ‘walk’ took place on a thin wall rising out of the sea, with a drop on both sides. So yeah, no walk for me. Michael seemed to enjoy it though. After that we drove past Utah beach, stopping at some gun emplacements/batteries both on the beach and several miles away in the beautiful green fields with speckled cows grazing. Finished off the day at the very moving and physically beautiful Pointe du Hoc. The cliffs were extremely impressive, which made the actions of the Rangers there even more difficult to imagine. Met an American girl studying at the Sorbonne and her boyfriend, who thanked us for taking their picture by telling us ‘you guys are such chaps’. We assume that’s a good thing. Parked for the night in Bayeaux. After eating delicious potato pizza, where the potato was ROASTED and then put on top – EXCELLENT, we went on a massive hunt for a macdonalds, which wasn’t were the gps said, and was also closed, just for that night. The public toilets were also out of order. This marked a low point in our luck, without the ever reliable golden arches we were forced to drive half an hour to the next town just to find a toilet. And then back to Bayeaux, which we were planning to visit the next day. Awesome. (Michael also wants to point out that I dropped my pizza on the ground, and he swapped for his, salami picked off, because he is a grand gentleman. Yes Michael, you are, and I still feel horrible about it so SHUT UP. But thanks.)
Bayueax:
Visited the amazing Bayeaux tapestry, telling the story of the Norman invasion of England – 1066 and all that. Of course, it told it entirely from the Norman side (and the museum didn’t seem to think it should vary from that line either) but that was interesting in itself, especially the fact that they did show Harold as fairly honourable up to the whole betraying thing. Anyway there are thousands of theories about that so I won’t go into them.. What got us most were the incredibly bright colours of the tapestry, and the detail it went into – for example in the scenes showing the cooking, serving, eating and interruption of a meal. Also I think Michael enjoyed the fact that it had naked men crouching randomly in the friezes, and at one point grasping for a woman with enormous hands. Because he’s actually five. (ok it was pretty funny). The museum also had a great exhibition on the tapestry and equivalent works in Japan, and their links to film. The afternoon consisted of Michael visiting the Pegasus Bridge Museum, and me writing postcards in between agonising searches for a public toilet (seriously, what is up with france!) Michael’s comments on the Museum: “extremely good, very detailed but not boring, nicest staff ever.” He’s very economical. The capture of Pegasus Bridge was the objective of the first battle of D-Day as it protected the eastern flank and provided a passageway off the beach-head. It was the first successful Allied glider-borne assault, so had twice the significance for Michael.
The next day was extremely different (I LOVE how varied this country is – in Normandy alone we passed through so many different areas) – the relaxed and super pretty La Route Cidre. This was my one day driving so Michael could get his tasting on, and thankfully the roads were pretty much empty so it wasn’t too bad. Also, they were far too narrow for me to worry about what side of the road I was driving on, I just had to make sure it was, in fact, the road. The route is a wellmarked circuit in the ‘Calvados’ region, covering 40km and 17 producers of cider, calvados (an apple brandy) and pommeau (a mixture of calvados and apple juice.) At first we were a bit nervous about just walking in and asking for a taste, and our first visit didn’t really calm any nerves – it was big and swanky with heaps of different varieties and everyone else there was rich, middle-aged and knew lots about cider. Oh and could speak French. Michael tasted some different ciders and some pommeau and we escaped with what we thought was a relatively cheap bottle of cider. The next place couldn’t have been more different – there was no car parking area, this was just a working farm, the woman had no English whatsoever but on the word ‘Cidre’ took us down to a cellar and poured out glasses of her one variety of cider, costing about a third of the price of the first place’s. We both tried to communicate several times but it all just ended up in wild sign language and laughter. She did however understand us giving her money, so it was all good. The third and final farm we visited was definitely the most educational – they took us around and showed us the old cider press and explained the different methods that have been used over the years, and had a video following the apples from picking to crushing. My favourite part was a room containing a couple of the huge old barrels with calvados fermenting away inside them – it smelt amazing. The woman told us how they made tens to hundreds of thousands of litres each year, and 70% of it was sold directly from the farm. Michael tasted apple cider, pear cider, pommeau and calvados, with the pear cider being a surprise hit – I absolutely love it, and at home i'm not a big cider fan.
We left the route and drove up to Honfleur – of the lovely harbour that inspired so many future Impressionists. It was quite the pretty but it didn’t have magical powers, I still can’t paint to save my life. Next stop was Etretat – gateway to the alabaster coast of France and also beloved by Impressionists. We hauled ourselves up the steps (ma would be proud) to get a better view, only to find a carpark at the top. The beach was pebbled but pretty, and the cliffs spectacular. Etretat also has the honour of being the home of the absolute worst/most amazing postcards we’ve ever seen. (I guess I have to say ‘so far’ but I don’t think we’ll be getting worse..)
We reluctantly got on the motorway to get us to Amiens quickly, but not before the gps took us on a bizarre shortcut that allowed us to see the nervous steps of a newborn calf. So we didn’t yell at it again for a whole ten minutes!
Amiens cathedral was spectacular (its little Venice less so – even more pathetic than Colmar’s! J) and absolutely enormous. This was the place that had ruined Paris’ Notre Dame for Michael – and it could fit two of that lesser cathedral inside it :P (NB: I still love Notre Dame, I promise). The intricate carvings on the outside were incredible. Definitely more impressive than the supposed face of st john the Baptist inside, but then again I steered VERY clear of that one. I don't know, cut off faces just aren't my thing. Amiens was also moving for its connection with the war, with plaques inside dedicated to the allied forces who defended it on the battlefields of the Somme.
aaaaaaand now I have to go, because DOCTOR WHO has finished downloading from BBC iplayer, and i must watch it immediately. Coincidentally we're just outside of Swindon, home of the much hated (by us, of course) Billie Piper. I can't believe how much better Miss Pond is. Swindon is ALSO however the home of my beloved Thursday Next, and it reminds me of SWINTON, so its not all bad.
love to you all
xoxo
p.s. I (laura) would like to point out that today has been an excellent day, not only due to the winningness of Tintern abbey and the wye valley and the lovely lady in the gift shop and pretty castles on cliffs. Also because Michael made me a daisy chain and bought me a dalek easter egg (with mug!). So now I have to publicly acknowledge his wonderfulness. Which is just embarrassing for everyone. but YAY DALEKS! so, love. xx.
