I had to get up twice in the night to navigate the twisting stairs to use the restroom. I’d bought a a beer and decided to make dinner in my room. Drinking lots of water to rehydrate is usually a good idea, but not in an attic room in Bayeux.
We had an earlier start time for the tour to Mont-Saint-Michel, but the driver was due to pick me up at my place at 8:30 a.m. I wondered how that would work, as the rooms are on a one-way street that is misaligned in many ways. That makes it charming but more suited to pedestrians. Rose the driver showed up, and I joined a couple from New Zealand. Willy and Linda were delightful company. We picked up a nice family from Augusta, Georgia. Both parents were ophthalmologists, and their kids were attending Furman U. They were staying in the 4-star hotel. Their son often got car sick, so we moved him up to the middle but Willy and Linda were squeezed in the front seat. I offered to switch, and once again had the luxury of being in the co-pilot’s seat for a long day.
Rose had the loveliest accented English. I’ve tried to practice her soft consonants and lilting sentences, but to no avail. She took a circuitous route on the way to the island, which afforded us the view of the Hedgerow Hell I’d learned about yesterday. When we were on a country road, with ditches on both sides and dirt stacked up 6 feet, I understood what our soldiers faced when they tried to liberate the French countryside. On top of the dirt mounds, dense shrubbery and tall trees made a nearly impenetrable barrier. Once a soldier made it to the top of one, he had to cross a ditch, be in the wide open, cross another ditch and try to fight to the top of that hedge. It would have been impossible to see the enemy in those conditions. It was very different fighting without tanks, for they would have plowed through. Just 20 or so miles of countryside took over two months for the infantry to conquer. It must have been nearly as bad as the trench warfare of WW1, except that the soldiers had to keep moving.
Once through the hedges, we were back in the land of the Impressionists. Rolling hills, wildflowers, sheep and the beautiful Normande cows grazed and dozed in landscape that had been flattened after war. A few newer hedges had sprung up between properties, but for the most part the views were unobstructed. I really wanted to see Saint-Lo, in honor of my youngest, but there was no time and the town had been completely obliterated by the Allies. It was an important hub for the Nazis, and the “collateral damage” of civilians was terrible, as leaflets dropped by the Allies the day before the bombardment were blown far away from town. Nobody knew what was coming until it hit them. Still, French survivors today said the martyrdom of Saint-Lo was necessary.
After a lively conversation in the van, we were able to see Mont-Saint-Michel in the distance. It was a bit cloudy and misty, something out of a movie. I still haven’t seen the movie version of “All the Light You Cannot See,” although I loved the book. I wanted to see the location of the final scenes for myself. Now I can’t wait to see how they filmed the winding passages, endless stairs, and beautiful views from the three levels of the abbey.
For most of the day, I was thanking my orthopedic surgeon, who gave me a a long-acting knee injection before his surgery schedule on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend. Over 400 steps to get to the top of the abbey. We arrived right at the opening hour, and by the time we walked down 4 hours later, the village was packed. Having a guide was so much fun, as we went through secret passages and up back-alley stairs, some so narrow my hips touched the sides. At the top, Rose confessed, “I can’t take every group up these stairs, if you know what I mean.” We laughed, but one of the guys had to go up sideways.
It was worth it for the view of the tiny cemetery and the little chapel for the villagers at the top of one of the secret staircases. Not all of the villagers were allowed in the cathedral, and few in the abbey. Now, a new order of religious servants live in the abbey. They are the Order of Jerusalem, and both men and women are in their ranks. When the last Benedictine monks were too old to care for the abbey, this group was ordained in the 1970’s. Now about 40 live there permanently.
When I have time, I’m going to read more about the construction and various architectures of the abbey, but just know over a thousand years’ worth of rock and stone still stand. Spectacular views from many rooms, and still some unfinished walls were covered with glass so nobody would fall out. The base pedestals and columns were over 8’ in diameter and above them, the Cloisters with the pristine lawn. Monks used to grow vegetables there. Above that, the cathedral. Our tour took us from this point down through the various levels, with plenty of time for photos. The light glimmering across the sand, to shimmering on the low tides, to creating a sunlit path across the bay - these images must have been the inspiration for Anthony Doerr’s novel. His blind protagonist couldn’t see these, but she could imagine them.
An aside - I had the opportunity to Zoom with him and 9 others during Covid. He was talking about his new book. What a nice guy. This is my dream: to live abroad and write an historical novel using some particular place. He used Paris, Germany, and Mont-Saint-Michel. Bayeux and Rouen for me? So many people have written about Paris.
I splurged on a lunch at Vielle du Auberge, and despite Rick Steves saying there’s no good food on the Mont, I enjoyed my meal of a classic Salade Nicoise and a glass of chablis from Normandy. Why is the chablis here so tender and exquisite? Ours in California is acidic terrible. The leisurely walk down through the village again made me happy I had a tour guide. The light had changed again, and I took a wonderful panorama video as I walked backwards to the bus stop. By the time our van had left the property and was back on the road, the sun was behind the abbey. Rose pulled over so we could take pictures of the Mont when it was “black,” or completely in shadow.
I wonder what all of the people over the last thousand years have felt when they saw Mont-Saint-Michel for the first time? It was one of the most sacred sites I have ever visited.
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