France Archives - Page 2 of 3

Wednesday, June 4, 2014 La Haye-du-Puits

We arrived in La Haye-du-Puits around 5:30 P.M and said goodbye to our friends who had a two-hour ride back to Brittany. Hopefully they will visit us in Sarasota some day so we can treat them as royally as they have done us.

The store fronts are decorated for the commemorations and there is a festive air in town, and a lot of foreigners in the cafés and eateries. People do not want to forget.

The bike shop was closed by the time we got there, but the Tourist Office was open and they gave us the bus schedules. It takes two buses to get to Sainte-Mère-Église from here and the schedules do not coincide. We missed the 7:33 bus that connected with the one we wanted. Instead we took the early afternoon bus and hitched to Sainte-Mère-Église.

The town was filled with people reenacting the liberation. There were Jeeps, trucks, uniforms, and women dressed in the 40s style, even wearing pancake makeup. There are a lot of American GIs. We spoke with Airborne men who will be jumping on Sunday using the old chutes and jumping from C47s. They were thrilled to have the opportunity to use the traditional chutes.

Some of the veteran’s of D-Day have returned. Ninety-three year old Jim “Peewee” Martin from the 101st Airborne, parachuted into the same area as he did 70 years ago from a C47, the same kind of plane used back then,. He said, “It didn’t compare because there wasn’t anybody shooting at me today.”

We spoke with the 91 year-old H. Daniels from the 82nd 507th. He seemed to be enjoying returning to Normandy, especially in these happier times.

In town, I inquired at the Tourist Office if the buses were operating on time and from the usual place–there was only one bus that would make the connection back to La Haye-du-Puits. Yes, as usual was the reply. We stood at the bus stop for about 45 minutes when a local told us the bus had been rerouted. Fortunately the bus was running late and we were able to catch the one at the transfer.

Back at La Haye-du-Puits, we contacted the bike rental place and made arrangements for the next three days. Hopefully the rain and wind and cold will dissipate.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014 Mont St-Michel

Josette and Jean-François took us to Mont St-Michel before taking us to La Haye-du-Puits in Normandy. Ever since we were children, we have wanted to visit this. Dennis first became aware of Mont-Saint-Michel from a View-Master slide and I from a monthly grammar school magazine.

Mont St-Michel is an island between Brittany and Normandy. The island is small, only about 247 acres and has a population of 44, mostly religious.

Over the years, the sand had filled in the distance between the island and the mainland and people were able to drive on the mud flats to the base of a the mount. Excavations are in progress to restore the ocean and to build an access road for walkers and shuttles from the parking lot.

Shifting sands, intense fog, and the ocean were natural fortresses for the monks who originally lived here. Even now, you need a guide to walk on the sand during low tide. 20140603_120224 making omelets 300

After the revolution, Mont St-Michel was turned into a jail until 1863 when it was returned to the abbey. The abbey was again returned to Christian worship in 1922. It is now a World Heritage Site. It is also a pilgrimage site and one of the stops along one of the Caminos de Santiago.

As we passed restaurant Le Mere Poulard on the main drag, we heard a fun rhythmic beat created by cooks dressed in traditional garb as they whipped the egg whites for the famous omelets. They then fold in the egg yolks and cook the mixture over an open hearth using long-handled pans. The omelets puff up like a soufflé and are served slightly runny. Of course, we all tried one for lunch. I could not believe that this omelet was made with only two eggs–it was that filling.

The abbey is in restoration. Recently, the statue of Saint-Michel, the archangel, which decorates the top of the abbey, was removed for gilding. After flying around the region, a helicopter repositioned to its place atop the abbey.

We explored the abbeys many rooms and floors, but our friends tell us that prior to the restoration, more was available for viewing.

From the windows, you can see the bay stretching from Normandy to Brittany with the river marking the border between the two provinces. Josette explains that Brittany and Normandy would both like to claim Mont St-Michel.When the river passed Mont St-Michel on the other side, the abbey was part of Brittany. Today, the river’s route has changed and the abbey is on Normand soil.

It is said, the higher up you go in the abbey, the closer you are to God. The monks cloister and refectory are at the top. Below them are the guests halls designed for kings and royalty. Below this is the knight’s hall. Finally on the first floor, is the hall where the monks received the poor and the pilgrims.

An intriguing huge wheel installed in 1830 is a replica of one used during the middle ages. Like hamsters, six men, usually prisoners, would power a winch to haul a giant sledge loaded with two-ton loads of stones and supplies from the landing below almost vertically up the wall. This was used until the 19th century.

Off to one side is a cloister, a rectangular open space surrounded by an open gallery with arcades. There are signs not to touch the marble columns, which look delicate. The columns, arranged in quincunx, a geometry pattern resembling the pips on the number five side of a dice. The columns were originally made of limestone from England but were later restored using puddingstone from Lucerne. This is a rock conglomerate of rounded pebbles that sharply contrast in color with the sandy medium and giving the appearance of raisins in Christmas pudding.

The purpose of the cloister is to provide a place for the monks to meditate without disturbance by those who were not religious. In the middle is a medieval garden recreated in 1966 by brother Bruno de Senneville, a Benedict monk. The center is made of box tree surrounded by 13 Damascus roses. Medicinal plants, aromatic herbs and flowers symbolize the daily needs of Middle-age monks. In the middle of the box trees were monsters to remind that in the middle of any marvel evil could still be there

I would have like to 20140603_134318 descending from abbey have seen the abbey after dark when the island is magically floodlit. But Josette and Jean-François drove us to La Haye-en-Puits, and then returned to their home in Brittany. Dennis and I are both so thankful for the hospitality and for making us feel like part of the family. It was sad for us to say goodbye.

Monday, June 2, 2014, St. Malo, France

Our Camino friends Jean-François and Josette showed us highlights of St. Malo and the surrounding area. We stopped to see the statue of Jacques Cartier, the St. Malo sailor who, in 1534, claimed Canada for France. His statue points towards the Atlantic towards Quebec.

Afterwards, we toured the St. Malo, the walled port city of Brittany notorious for its pirates. The weather was overcast, but the occasional sunshine brought the temperatures into the mid 60s F. which made it comfortable for us to walk the 1.2-mile circuit (1.754 km) on the ramparts around the city. The original medieval walls were extended in the 17th century to accommodate the expanding city. From the top of the 12-foot wide walkway, we could see the bay and the islets at the mouth of the Rance estuary.

Tall granite edifices with enormous windows provide the homes on the west side of town with a great view of the sea. 20140602_105248 ramparts of St. Malo The western exposure and tall buildings prevent sunlight from entering the rooms; this might be ideal in summer, but I imagine the rooms are damp and chilly in the cooler months. Many of the apartments are rented for the tourists, mostly from the UK.

Dennis was amazed by the hugeness of this well-preserved medieval city. Everything is big and heavy. We later learned that the city was destroyed in WWII, and then reconstructed from the rubble, following the original plan and spirit of the ancient city.

Descending from the wall, we strolled along the narrow and cobbled intramural streets. There are still a few timber-framed buildings that add color and contrast to the Renaissance-style structures.

Since the port receives many ferries from Portsmouth, Poole, and Weymouth, there are many shops that cater to the tourists and the town has one of the highest concentration of restaurants in Europe. In spite of the tourism, the prices for eating and clothing were reasonable. During the summer, the town’s population increases to 200,000.Other parts of the city have small and colorful buildings.

Next, we visited the promontory fort of Cite d’Alet, an ancient Celtic city. During WWII, the Germans built concrete bunkers and defenses here. We did not visit the memorial museum, but walked around the site, seeing signs of the struggle here. I imagine how frightening the bombardment must have been for the soldiers in the tunnels and underground bunkers.

It felt good to walk on the grounds and along the bay. There we saw jellyfish and various shells strewed on the pebbly beach. There are also remains of an ancient stone church, dating to pre-Roman times.

The Tour Solidor (Solidor Tower) was built between 1369 and 1382 to control access to the Rance Over the centuries the tower lost its military importance and became a jail. It is now a museum celebrating Breton sailors exploring Cape Horn.

We returned to our friends’ home to enjoy a traditional regional meal: Galette au Blé Noir. These are thin buckwheat pancakes, fried egg, ham, and grated Swiss cheese sandwiches served with a salad and sparkling apple cider. I can’t wait to make this recipe for my parents, I am sure they would enjoy it.

After lunch, we visited San Suliac, a typical fishing village. Nets still hang on the front of the homes as in the olden days. Flowers seem to grow from every crack in the slate making the town very inviting.

In the harbor stands a statue, La Vierge de Grainfollet. Ships leaving the harbor would pray for a safe return as they passed by.

A stain-glass window in the church reflects the fisherman’s life with a boat, a lighthouse, and a pilgrimage to the neighboring town.

On the way to Cancale, we stopped to admire the coastline with the emerald waters. At low tide, the water almost disappears on the horizon.

Due to its location, The “Bay of Saint-Malo” has the biggest tides in Europe. The tidal range – the difference between high tide and low tide – is on average, more than 40 feet (12m) at the full moon, the greatest for all Europe.

When we got to Cancale, the largest oyster farm in France, the tide was out. As we had supper in a restaurant overlooking the bay (yummy oysters and fruits de mer), we watched how quickly the waters returned. oyster farm Cancale In no time, boats that were grounded were able to leave, and the oyster beds disappeared.

It takes three years for the oysters to mature and they must be turned daily.When the tides recede, trucks and farm implements drive out to tend to the oyster beds.

In the past when the men were at sea, it was the women who harvested and sold the oysters. Based on this tradition, only women are permitted to sell the oysters.

Sunday, Jun 1, 2014 St. Malo

This morning we planned to be at the train station early, thinking the train left at 10:51 A.M. I had mistaken our departure time with the arrival time at the transfer station. Having missed the train by only a few minutes,we hopped on what we thought was the next train to Rennes, but was actually the train from Rennes, and heading in the wrong direction. The conductor studied the tickets and then looked at us askance, but said nothing. I thought he was concerned that the tickets we had were for the earlier train, not that we were on the wrong one. By the time we discovered our error, it was too late to change trains, so we rode it to the terminus in Quimper, about a hundred miles away.

At the ticket office, the attendant changed our tickets and even reimbursed us money since we were not going first class and then let us call our friends to tell them we would be arriving four hours late.

Basically we rode the train two hours to have a croque monsieur (a grilled ham and cheese sandwich) and then returned.

Our friends greeted us at the airport. At their home, we shared a class of champagne with Josette’s brother and family. There was much laughter and merrymaking. After the relatives left, Jean-François prepared a lamb stew prepared with limes and peas. I never had the combination and really enjoyed it.

Saturday, May 31, 2014 Vannes, Fr

Sunshine and fresh ocean air welcomed us to Vannes. I slipped on a jacket to ward off the upper 50’s temperature, knowing that by noon it would be at least ten degrees warmer. As long as I stayed on the sunny side of the street and protected from the stiff breeze, I was comfortable. Dennis tolerates the cold better than I and remained in short sleeves.

We first walked to the marina. The waters were calm and we saw a school of large carp. The Gulf of Morbihan is a virtual inland sea leading to the Atlantic ocean. There are 365 islands in the gulf; we could visit one each day for a year. We tried to book a boat excursion, but being a holiday weekend, there were no convenient openings.

Vannes is a fortified city with 2000 years of history. We tried to discover this history as we walked around the marina and under the ramparts of the medieval walled town, which we entered through the Gate of St. Vincent Ferrier. Built in the beginning of the 17th century, it is the most central of Vannes’s town gates and named after the town’s patron saint.

The cathedral St. Pierre was build in the 12^th century over the ruins of the previous church. As a result of renovations throughout the centuries, the building displays many architectural styles: a Romanesque belfry, a neo-Gothic facade, a Renaissance chapel where lie the remains of the patron saint. Today, the left belfry is under repair, hidden by scaffolding.

The interior is dark and somber, not very inviting. What surprised me were the two-foot diameter wooden columns that supported the vaulted ceilings. I had expected marble. There were no pews. Instead, wooden chairs with caned seats were linked together by wooden board.

In the city, people are everywhere, giving us a lot to look at. Some women are dressed to the hilt in coordinating skirts, tops, jackets, and scarves, and walking expertly on the cobbled-stoned streets in high heels. Others sport more casual fare and bright-colored sneakers. Tourists with cameras are everywhere. Old people hobble on canes. Dogs on leashes follow their owners or sit quietly in a café; a trio of them sleep on a corner undisturbed by people walking around them. There is a bowl of water for the dogs and one for donations. I wonder if they do better than the beggars and buskers.

Today the ancient town is a mixture of old and new. Place des Lices was originally a venue for tournaments but is now the open-air market square on Saturday and Wednesdays. Since today is Saturday, the plaza is filled with vendors hocking clothing, leather, jewelry, vegetables, breads, meats, sausages, books, large wheels of cheese, soap, and more. The scene is about three times the size of the Sarasota Farmer’s market.

Dennis and I were amazed by the variety of tempting fruits and vegetables (especially the indecent looking white asparagus) and prices were very reasonable. Both of us agreed that we would like to live in this town and shop for groceries here.

On the comer of a half-timbered house sits the figures of Vannes and his wife. This figure head may originally been a company label, but it is now a popular photo spot.

We also visited the oldest house in the city on 13 Rue St. Salomon, decorated with wooden lion statues. These Middle Age houses are colorful and constructed of a variety of building materials.

Outside of the Gallo-Roman wall are the meticulously kept Garrens Gardens, a lovely place to stroll.

Following our tour of the city, we met up with our Camino friends Daniel and Marie-Noel. After champagne and hors d’oeuvres, we went to Conleau, the town’s beach, for dinner. It was wonderful chatting with them and getting reacquainted. Hopefully, they will visit us in Sarasota in two years.

Friday, May 30, 2014 Vannes Fr

The B 20140530_165145 Tour du Montparnasse 300 & B owner’s dad, Paul, took us to the train station in Trois Ponts where we boarded towards Liège Belgium. This historical city on the river Meuse is the birthplace of the Emperor Charlemagne. Once we arrived, we recognized having been at this depot before. Since we had not made reservations for the Thalys express train to Paris, there was only room in first class, for an additional fee.

We boarded and sat in roomy, plush, plum and burgundy upholstered seats. The steward passed out cleansing cloths and served us coffee and choice of snack. We both choose macaroons. We felt first-rate.

In Paris we took the metro from the north train station to the Montparnasse one. On the train was a woman with sores all over her face, which she kept picking and then holding onto the handrail. We both washed our hands after leaving the train. Waiting for the train, we walked around the area. We declined going up to the observation deck of the Tour du Montparnasse. There is even a restaurant on the 54th floor of the tower.

We sat and enjoyed a beer in a café as we people-watched. Thinking that we would be served dinner on the train, we opted not to snack. As it turned out, the dinning compartment was not open and there was nothing to eat or drink on the three-hour train ride to Vannes.

We arrived at dusk, around 10 PM. Dennis found our way to the hotel, and then had a sandwich in a doner-kabob. With the rich eating we’ve done in the past month, perhaps we should have skipped this late meal, but we didn’t. Tomorrow we will explore the city and then meet up with friends we met on the Camino, Daniel and Marie-Noëlle.

Friday, May 23, 2014 Kertzfeld, FR

Lydie went out early to the bakers and returned with two baguettes: one white, the other dark. She also purchased a sweet bread typical of the area, Hugel Loaf. In good company, we breakfasted on tea, bread, local creamy butter, and Lydie’s homemade preserves.

While Lydie prepared a traditional sauerkraut meal (oven-baked pork shoulder and sauerkraut, separately boiled potatoes and sausage, served with white wine and mustard), Henri took us to the Ebersmunster Abbey. The two exterior towers flanking the entrance are square at the bottom and then flare out like onion bulbs. At first glance, it reminded me of minarets, but Henri said there was no Muslim influence.

Walking into the L’Eglise Abbatiale, I gasped at the beauty of the combined stone, wood, and stucco. This abbey church is the only example in France of the Austrian baroque art, an artistic movement marked by rich ornamentation. Rose-colored stone floors, alabaster walls, and doors and windows painted in light-blue trimming create a light and welcoming atmosphere. Over the main rose marble altar is a canopy choir and above that a crown of gold surrounding a fresco of the Apocalypse Lamb and the Holy Trinity. Light-blue columns separated the main altar from the two side ones. Other ceiling frescoes (including the assumption of Mary and the martyrdom of St. Maurice) painted in the subtle gold, blue, rose, and white hues draw the eyes upward and add to the overall richness of the church’s ornamentation.

The Silberman Organ installed in 1732 maintains its original condition.

Leaving the abbey, we rode along the Rhine and saw a ferry that takes cars and passengers to Germany and back for free. Henri then showed us the tea house and gardens where he buys his teas.

After lunch the four of us went to Mont Ste Odile, a peak in the Vosques Mountains. We parked below the abbey and walked up about a mile (2 km). Lydie told us that this was a sacred Celtic place and that she is sensitive to the meridians of energy on the mountain. There was a legends exhibit along the path, and statues and ornament made the walk interesting.

From the top, we could see the Alsace valley with the Black Forest in the distance. On the other side are the Vosques Mountains. In the convent’s chapel, volunteers pray twenty-four-seven for world peace. Lydie is scheduled to participate in this vigil in January.

Ste. Odile was the blind daughter of a 7^th century king, who disowned her. In the Chapel of Tears (one of two chapels on the terrace), it is said that her tears created a crevice in the mountaintop, seeping down the mountain and mixing with the waters, where many blind people have supposedly received sight from the curative waters. In the Chapel of Angels, a mosaic displaces Mont St. Michel and Mont Ste. Odile and the WWII liberation.

According to Wikipedia, between August 2000 and May 2002 more than 1,000 ancient books went missing from the monastery library. A book collector stole the books after finding an old map showing a secret entrance into the library. The route was not easy, however, involving climbing up exterior walls, a steep staircase and a secret chamber. A mechanism then opened the back of one of five cupboards. The disappearance of so many books over such a length of time confused the librarian, the monks and the police, with Gosse finally being caught by closed-circuit television cameras.

Mont Ste. Odile is part of the Camino in France. From here, Santiago is 1423 miles (2291 km) away.

On our way back, we visited Obernai, the second most visited city in Alsace, after Strasbourg. We are grateful to our hosts, Henri and Lydie, for showing us this area. Without them, we would not have seen any of these sites.

Thursday, May 22, 2014 Strasbourg, FR

The birds and dawn woke me at 04:00. I rolled over and dozed until the alarm sounded two hours later. We arrived at the train station, activated our Senior Global Rail Pass (now good for 10 trips in 20 days), bought snacks for the 12-hour ride with the last of the krone, and then boarded our train.

To cross into Germany, the train with 6 cars boarded a ferry for the 45 minute ride across. All passengers were required to leave the train, which was then locked. On the ferry, there were shops, restaurants, and lounge chairs. I felt as if I were on board the NCL Star, once again. In the gift shop, I bought our hosts a box of Anthon Berg Danish chocolates. This was suggested to me as a nice gift to buy as a souvenir from Denmark.

Dennis is using his German. He can read some of the signs and understands a few words. It’s strange for me to rely on him to get around, but we will be in France today and I will again be the guide.

Once in Germany, we rode by beaches, sails boats, and golden rapeseed and dark green alfalfa, timothy and rye fields. Windmills lined up along the coast, their large blades spinning. The architecture consisted of A-frame style brick houses with dark slate or red-tiled roofs. This area of Germany is very flat, great for farming.

This part of the train ride is commuter, and we stopped at many small-town train stations. The more modern towns feature three-story brick buildings. Some train stations are older and not imposing like in the larger cities.

We had 8 minutes to OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA transfer in Hamburg, a large port city from where Dennis’s father shipped home following the war. We got on the train and found someone sitting in our seats, having confused which car she was in. As we found out in our first train ride in 2011, the seats are numbered and most often reserved. Only the local trains have free-seating.

After Hamburg, the terrain became more rolling and we started to go through tunnels. We crossed several narrow rivers, one with kayaks. The fields changed to forests. As we gained altitude, my ears popped. In the valleys I could see small towns with their church steeples.

The express trains have stewards who pass out candy, coffee, and sell ice cream. There are dining cars, but we bought sandwiches at the 7-11 at the station in Copenhagen, wanting to use up our Danish currency. By the time we reach Strasbourg, we will had travelled for more than eleven hours.

Our Camino friends Henri and Lydie greeted us at the depot. They escorted us around Strasbourg, Henri’s home town. We visited the cathedral, Little Paris, and other plazas in the city. We had traditional regional pizza with its flaky cracker-like crust, sweet onions, and cheese. We tried a soft white cheese, a goat cheese, and a blue cheese pizza–all yummy with red wine.

Afterwards we went to their beautifully decorated home in Kertzfeld, about 25 Km north of Strasbourg. The garden in the back has a pool and the frogs serenaded us with at least three different songs: the ribbit-ribbit, the deep-throated grump-garump, and the comical he-he-he-he-he, which made me laugh. Henri has red fish and one black one which swim to the surface when he feeds them. When the black one matures, it turns red.

The terrain in this area of France reminds me of New England with is soil and foliage. The towns however show the Bavarian influence with the Tudor-style buildings, town and street names, and local cuisine.

August 27: Carentan

We went to the Dead Man’s Corner Museum in Carentan, because Dennis found a photo of his dad’s helmet in a book which stated the helmet was in this museum. The museum had many artifacts about the 82^nd and 101 Airborne, but not his helmet. We purchased a book depicting Pvt. Ernest R. Blanchard in England where he trained for the invasion. The author of both books was historian Michel de Trez,

Dennis asked the proprietor about the whereabouts of the helmet. He told us that his partner was the historian Michel de Trez and that he had the helmet in Belgium; he then called his friend to introduce us and to see if he was willing to speak with Dennis. We will go to Belgium after Luxemburg for that very purpose. Imagine the odds of finding that helmet!

Carentan is a small village with a train station. There, we bought our tickets for Luxembourg and will arrive in Luxembourg City tomorrow evening. At first we thought of catching the train to Bastogne, but decide to stay and explore the city, since I have not been there.

When I was studying French so many years ago, I read about the flying buttresses, an architectural technique that made it possible for churches to have light and height. Notre Dame in Carentan, (picture above left) I believe, is such an example.

The town hall is massive with a frontal rose and flower garden and huge window boxes full of petunias. These flowers seem to be a favored flowered in the district; they decorate many buildings. I wonder if Dennis’ father’s love for this flower developed while he was in France.–it was his favorite. Another popular flower is the hollyhock. These seem to attract the largest bumblebees I have ever seen.

Carentan has a canal to the harbor; consequently if has a marina (below, left). It was very relaxing siting under an cafe umbrella, sipping a Perrier, and watching the boats.

We returned to Sainte-Mere-Eglise, about 15 km (10 miles) away, to prepare for a day of travel. We boxed up our camping gear—no use hauling that 7 kg (almost 16 lbs) around if we are not using it. Dennis’ back pack is much lighter, and mine is smaller; both now fit in the overhead racks on trains and buses. Life is getting easier and we wind down our trip.

August 25: Sainte-Mère-Église

Except for the church bells tolling most of the day, there isn’t much going on in Sainte-Mère-Église on Sundays. Of course, there are the walking tour, restaurants, and trinket and bead shops, but no places of interest within walking distance that we had not already seen, and no buses to get to the sites that are further away.

At the tourist shop, we were surprised to find books not sold at the bookstore. More amazingly, we found photos of Dennis’ father and leads to more information. Dennis was as thrilled as a kid at Christmas and bubbled with excitement.

We visited the church where there are two stain-glass windows honoring the parachutists of the 82nd Airborne. The picture on the right depicts Saint Michael and the insignia of various Allied military units that fought in or near the village.

It is remarkable how the people of Sainte-Mère-Église continue to commemorate those that liberated them that night of June 5, 1944 and the days following. It also honors the civilians who died at that time. Next year will be the 70th anniversary.

Below is the tree where Dennis’ father’s parachute was hung up. As bullets whizzed by, he cut the ropes to the chute–and part of his thumb in haste–fell about 30 feet, and then ran off to join other members of his team. Once gathered together, some came back to liberate the town and others went to capture a Bridge at La Fiere, a marsh three kilometers away.