Domaine Des Hauts De Loire, Mont St.-Michel, D-Day Beaches, Paris, etc.

Many apologies for my failure to post a blog entry over the last few days. Computers (and time to use them) have not been easy to come by. I have posted photos of our first day in France, and those can be seen on the previous post. Also, I did'nt quite have time to pull the theme together in the last post, so let me summarize it:

We were not able to rent a GPS at the airport and got lost numerous times, only to discover the beautiful backroads of the Loire Valley. However, our enjoyment of and success with the backroads, combined with our utter state of disorientation, got us into trouble a couple of times. On one occasion, we were driving excitedly into a forest on the thinnest asphalt road I've ever been on. Only when two Frenchmen biked passed us with bewildered looks on their faces did we realize we were on a biking trail. We proceeded to turn around.

Eventually our enjoyment turned into frustration and we pulled over at a pharmacy in a small town to ask for directions. A small, 70+ year-old French lady who was shopping for some sort of geriatric medication stood by, chin in palm with her index finger on her cheek, as I asked the cashier for directions. After five minutes without progress, the small French lady leaned in and, in broken English asked, "You know G-P-S?[pointing out each letter with her index finger]"

We finally arrived at our hotel around 6:30 pm. In January, Travel and Leisure Magazine did a special on the best hotels in the world. In the developing countries, a room could be had for around $200 a night. In Europe, the cheapest hotels were in the $500+ range - well out of reach for a pair of new graduates. In the middle of the article, however, there was a special on the top hotel in each region. I noticed that the #1 hotel in Europe was also the least expensive. I got online and found a room for 130 euro. I decided that the best hotel on the most "civilised" continent was a destination in and of itself.

With row after row of vineyards to our left, we turned off a country road onto a half-mile drive leading up to the coral gravel parking lot. My fears that ours would be the only Citroen in the parking lot were quelled, although the majority of the cars were probably over $50,000. I nestled our chariot in between a BMW Z4 and a Mercedes C Class. I noticed that most of the people seated outside the hotel looked sophisticated, so I tucked my t-shirt into my shorts before exiting the car and checking in.
Everything about the hotel was outstanding. The grounds were immaculate, the service was flawless, and the room was well appointed, with a persian rug, blue glasscoated tile in the bathroom, and his & her toilets. Jenny and I went biking around the private lake; played tennis on their hedge-row lined court; and went swimming in the pool. As we were up early in the morning, we had the pool and courts to ourselves, and we felt blissfully out of place. We avoided the high priced meals and ate breakfast and lunch in Onzain, the town nearby. For dinner, we ate at a French pizzeria, and for breakfast we had pastries at a boulangerie. We enjoyed watching the town emerge from the night, as a butcher pulled the screen up, and the baker from whom we bought our pastries sent her son off to school with friends who had stopped by for breakfast. Having been in Paris for two days, I definitely think the countryside is the first place visitors should go.

After leaving Onzain, we drove further into the Loire Valley before exiting in Tours and driving n to Mont St.-Michel, via Le Mans and Rennes. Despite the hoards of tourists, Mt. St-Michel is amazing. It rises out of the sands of the bay (or waters, depending on the tide), and pays tribute to the Archangel Michael's slaying of the dragon in the Bible. Michael is apparently the patron saint of France, and the iconography is pretty awesome: Michael slays the dragon (this scene is depicted in a sculpture at the top of a spire above the abbey) in the heavens above the coast of France, protecting the French (although I would argue that this depiction is dated and not terribly relevant, based on the fact that only 11% percent of the French consider themselves believing Christians). Still, if there is one piece of Christian iconography outside my own faith that I most identify with, this would be it.

Jenny and I thought it would be fun to spend a night in the town at the base of the abbey, and booked a room at Le Mouton Blanc. Aside from going on the main tour of the abbey, we were able to walk around the streets and ramparts long after the majority of tourists had left. In the morning, we were up before almost anybody else, and had the sandy bay to ourselves as the sun came up on the abbey. It was a surreal moment, thinking about the thousands of Christian pilgrims who had walked across the bay at low tide in the past.

From Mont St. Michel, we drove to Bayeux to see the Bayeux Tapestry, which was created ten years after the 1066 Norman invasions of Britain. The tapestry is basically a midevil comic strip which has been used throughout the centuries to tell illiterate Normans about the invasion (although hopefully it is no longer necessary). I hadn't realized that William the Conquerer was actually entitled to the English throne. Harold, his cousin (?) was supposed to relay the message to him, but sought the throne for himself, compelling William to take it by force. The tapestry was actually a highlifght of the trip for both of us.

From Bayeux, we drove to the American Cemetery on Omaha Beach and went through the fascinating museum there. We read the tributes to soldiers who had died on D-Day, and looked at displays of soldier's rations, equip,ment, and training regimens. I couldn't help but marvel at what my Grandpa Spendlove went through as a soldier in the Battle of the Bulge. Jenny and I kept thinking, "I can't believe he went through that."

After driving to Pointe Du Hoc (a critical WWII gun point along the Norman coast, pictured above), Jenny and I high-tailed it through back roads (so as not to pay the exorbitant tolls) to Giverny, where Monet gardened and painted his famous water lily paintings. The gardens and the surrounding area were beautiful, and Jenny and I ate middle eastern food in the nearby town of Vernon. We discussed how French names are often maligned when given to American children (Vernon, Blanche, etc. sound beautiful in French, but less so in American English. Camille still sounds okay though.).

Paris is too broad a topic to discuss at length now.
On day one, we went to the Louvre, D'Orsay, Champs Elysses, Arc de Triomphe, and Notre Dame. The D'Orsay takes the cake. Van Gogh, Suerat, Monet, etc. etc. etc. You never realize how much you love impressionist art until it is right in front of you. In the evening, we discovered that, for the most part, we like French breakfast food more than french dinner food. Jenny ordered a steak that spent all of nine seconds on the grill.

Today we climbed to the top of Notre Dame to admire the gargoyles and bell tower. We were serenaded by both the 10:45 and 11:00 bells. We are about to enjoy lunch in Luxembourg Gardens. More pictures to follow...