To travel to France, is to travel to the center of one of
the greatest pushes against the forces of evil in human history. When my parents came there years before,
they’d relegated themselves just to Paris, but when we planned our next trip, I
insisted on Normandy.
We were arriving on the cusp of the 70th anniversary, but this only made
things all the more important for me. I
wanted to see the beaches, to walk the cemeteries, to visit the museums. I needed to stand where giants stood, and
where darkness fled before the dawn.
Our journey into Normandy began with a two to three hour
drive to Mount Saint Michel, the last lonely outpost of the fairytale part of
our journey. Our first glimpse from the
car was quite a sight, a single jut of rock out on the sea with towering spires
and town clustered against the jagged cliffs. From afar, Mont Saint Michel seems like something out of Lord of the Rings, like Gondor.
It sits there on this piece of stone, with a castle at the top, and walls and buildings clustered around. It is the proverbial fairytale city when you see it. We stopped and got out, taking in the mount and the seascape that separated us from it. Contrary to popular belief, it is not an island most of the time, but separated from the land by a “shallow” finger of sand and gravel road. When the tide is out, one can feasibly walk there – we took a free but very crowded bus from the visitor center.
It sits there on this piece of stone, with a castle at the top, and walls and buildings clustered around. It is the proverbial fairytale city when you see it. We stopped and got out, taking in the mount and the seascape that separated us from it. Contrary to popular belief, it is not an island most of the time, but separated from the land by a “shallow” finger of sand and gravel road. When the tide is out, one can feasibly walk there – we took a free but very crowded bus from the visitor center.
I could have skipped the town of Mont Saint Michele
altogether. If the bus was packed, the
area of the “castle town” was even more so.
I call it a castle town because it basically is. The monastery at the top as a great fortress
of spires and stone overlooking narrow winding streets of even more narrow wooden
houses, shops and stores. The area is
meant to invoke that medieval feel, with a gate and a drawbridge, but that
feeling immediately vanishes from the visitor as they stand beneath the stone
archways.
The way to the top is lined on both sides by what I could
best describe as a very unappealing assortment of stores selling curios, fake
swords, crystal spheres, plastic dragons and other very cheap looking curios or
souvenirs. What museums they have are
wax ones “dungeons” and the like, and even the stores selling food are
unappealing – we passed one with an oozing icee maker and churros. On the whole, it had all the appeal of
Disneyland without the charm, and all the crowds of that magic kingdom packed
into one tenth of the space.
We walked a gauntlet of tourists who were too busy
inspecting all the knick-knacks. It’s
unfortunate that the town has chosen to do this, but I suppose it’s of
necessity. I would have preferred to see
an actual working town, not a tourist trap – which is what the island has
become. The real jewel is the monastery
at the top. It rises from the rock,
which juts from the sea, with its tallest spire topped by a bronze statue of
Michael the archangel. At his feet is a
dragon, and Michael brandishes sword and shield to drive it back.
The museum was packed, and we had to weave our way amid the
crowds and tour groups. At one point we
lost mom as one group of Korean folks cut in behind me and I had to wait
agonizingly on the other end worried that she’d not find us. It is very easy to get turned around up
there, but the views were spectacular.
We could see from the land in the east to the Normandy coast in the
north. Inside there were big cavernous
rooms, and once you saw one you pretty much saw all of them. One particular highlight was a room with
fireplaces large enough to stand in – which everyone did including us.
 |
| Main Church |
 |
| Cloister |
 |
| One of the large halls |
 |
| Giant Fireplace |
 |
| Smaller hall |
 |
| Michael the Archangel |
On the whole we were left disappointed as we jostled and
elbowed our way back through the gauntlet to the car. I turned to my father and said, “I think next
time I’ll just enjoy the view from here.”
Both he and mom agreed. The view
from afar was far more impressive than the reality. Thankfully it served as a turning point to
something far more spectacular and sobering – the Normandy coast itself.
