French toast and freedom fries

View of Paris from atop the Eiffel Tower

Life has returned to such a state of comfort and normalcy that it’s actually been difficult to get myself to write this. As you’ve hopefully heard or may have otherwise guessed, we’ve found our way back to the states. We arrived in early May and after spending a couple weeks with family, we came back to Denver. After staying with my gracious aunt and uncle for a week scavenging craigslist (and learning that it updates every 15 minutes), we found a nice home and have settled in nicely. And before starting back into rotations, we did something that completed our whole year.

We went to the Denver Dumb Friends League and found my sweet little pup. She’s a four (now four and a half) month old puppy – Australian shepherd (one blue eye), lab (one brown eye) mix and maybe a little German shepherd to boot. Her name is Miski, which means sweet in Quechua. She’s cuddly, adorable, well behaved (when she wants to listen), and we love her to pieces. She’ll be getting an older brother or sister sometime in the next year. (Check out my Flickr for some puppy pictures)

So here we are. Back in Denver to friends and family, and of course work (even if it is still called school). We were saying the other day how amazing it is to be here – how fast time has past since we’ve gotten back but also how long it’s been since we were away. It’s a very bizarre feeling.

As I said, this has taken me a long time to get to this. It’s actually much harder to write about now that it’s done and we’re back. But I guess it’s a good time to reflect and more than anything, it’s something I want to have in the future. When I’m an old fogy, I’ll pull this out someday and say, Look, we really did something with the time we had. So there it is.

The part one (guessing I’ll be too lazy to finish this all in one go) sum up:

• Arriving in Paris and exhaustion
• Two days in Paris museum hunting
• High speed train to Bretagne (Brittany)
• Staying at Stephane’s in Roscoff – wine, baguettes, shoreline, sleeping, French cuisine, and loads of cheese
• Road trip in Stephane’s van – WWII beaches of Normandy, sleeping in the gas station parking lot, Le Mont Saint-Michel with a rainy day and a cold
• Finishing in Paris – Eiffel Tower bomb scare, Eiffel Tower part two, Versailles, smarter street eating
• Back to the states for a wedding in Fredericksburg
• Visiting DC and the National Cherry Blossom Festival
• Big hesitation and flying out to Nepal

After flying into Paris, I immediately noticed how well everyone was dressed. Just waiting for our luggage, everyone looked more fashionable than my most fancy experience of New York. Granted I was probably subconsciously expecting it and thus a little more on alert, but I still felt like a sore thumb in my old, dirty travel clothes.

Paris art

 

Another immediate feeling was that of language intimidation. It’s hard to reason out why but there is a definite undercurrent of French superiority in the American subconscious. That may seem like a no duh statement and usually something that is only acknowledged during jokes but when you are an American arriving in Paris with no knowledge of the French language. Well, it feels something like showing up to your future in-laws dinner party naked. There's such an enormous level of discomfort, even more than you would normally expect feeling like a sore thumb. But maybe that’s just me.

They let us though security with only a cursory glance at our passports (I love that about the EU – no visa, no hassle). We found quickly that most people spoke some level of English after trying to use a lot of gesturing and the two or three words of French we knew.

We took the metro (above ground outside the city) into Paris proper and landed in the 11^th arrondissement. If you’ve never seen how Paris is organized, take a look at a map (wiki?) to see the shell spiral of the different districts. Anyway, we got off in the tenth and only had to walk a few blocks in the chilly March Parisian air.

Our hotel was on a little side street off a major road and was one of the nicer places we’d stayed at while traveling. Granted it was something of a closet and we still had a separate bathroom in the hall but what the hell, it was the best possible deal for Paris (found with Stephane’s help of course). We settled in and… yeah, we fell asleep. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Our first afternoon in Paris and we wasted it but we were just too exhausted and slept until it was already dark.

We woke up hungry and ready to explore. Walking out, we headed down the avenue next to our hotel, Strasbourg. It was cold, in a bone chilling way I hadn’t experienced in a long time (not much of that in East Africa, Egypt, or SE Asia). We passed the areas full of bars and restaurants – saw my first French police in full riot gear breaking up a fight outside a bar. After walking long enough (it really was quite far), we reached the river Seine with the night sites we associate with Paris. We could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance from the riverfront – turns out it lights up like a Christmas tree on the hour at night, quite surprising. And we walked to the cathedral of Notre Dame.  It was a shame to have slept in but we went far enough to try to make up for it later in the night.

Arches inside the cathedral of Notre Dame

 

Then, we walked through what we found to be a restaurant rich area which wasn’t too too touristy. We’d read and heard about set menus but had a lot of difficulty finding any. Here came our first shell shock from French price tags (Euro exchange rate was around 1.4 – and very painful – while we were there). Food was expensive. Eventually we were tired and cold enough that we settled on a small chain looking café/restaurant with a not too outrageous set menu. It was actually delicious and warm (until the heat lamp behind Chris went out). Probably the best dinner experience we had in our first stay in Paris. We walked back to the hotel, full, cold, and tired. Fortunately, the bed was comfortable and the room was quite toasty.

The next morning we slept in a bit (or maybe that we just me, who can remember these things?) and then grabbed breakfast (pain au chocolat – just typing it makes me drool a little) at a little café across the street. We had read up a little in advance and knew we were in the window in which one day one of the big museums was closed and the next day the other would be (Musée d’Orsay and the Louvre). Fortunately, we’d grabbed some free Paris maps at the hotel and the metro stations with the museums’ schedules. So we set out to walk to the Musée d’Orsay. Unfortunately, these free maps aren’t really to scale and don’t tend to include the small side streets. So, we got lost. But that’s okay. It was actually a lovely tour of the 6^th arrondissement. And we happened to walk by the medical school – a dark and ominous looking building and scary reminder of things to come.

Finally we made it to the museum and the long line that accompanied it. We heard the line was longer in the summer (winter is the off-season) but it was also longer than otherwise on days the Louvre was closed. The museum is situated along the river and is known for its impressionist collection. We stood in line and gabbed with a mother and teenage daughter from Massachusetts. When we got to the front, we bought the museum pass for the next two days but found to my chagrin that fees are waived for EU citizens under 26. Damn American citizenship.

Candles at Notre Dame

Notre Dame

The museum (no photography permitted) had a number of Rodin sculptures and many paintings by Monet, Van Gogh, Cézanne, Gauguin, Degas, and Renoir. It was a little crowded, so it was hard to just stand back and enjoy a piece for very long. But it was still overwhelming. I told Chris (and have probably repeated it a number of times at this point) that seeing my first up close Monet paintings at the Boston MFA was so overwhelming that it made me cry. But this didn’t really do it. Don’t get me wrong, it was incredible. But I just love Monet and I felt like I’d already seen a better Monet collection. It was pointed out to me that in the time Monet was painting, all the money was in America and so that’s where his paintings were bought up. An idea I wouldn’t have thought of.

We wandered and ended up going to see the inside of Notre Dame. The experience is one that is difficult to explain. The architecture is incredible. The arches are enormous. The stained glass magnificent  - and play of the light and shadow just wonderful. We went outside and thought to go up to the roof but were too late – we would have to try back the next day. We wandered about the small park adjoining the cathedral where lots of kids were playing and dogs were allowed(?!). We sat and enjoyed sunlight next to the river while a man played the accordion. It was a taste of the romantic atmosphere of Paris.

Arc du Triomphe

We planned to go to the modern art museum, Centre Pompidou, but when we arrived, we found it was closed on Tuesdays as well. We grabbed a snack from a boulangerie (bakery) and sat in the plaza in front of the Centre Pompidou (a huge, industrial-looking building in contrast to the classical looking typical Parisian buildings) where street performers were doing their thing and dogs chased each other on the long slab of concrete. Speaking of which, Stephane loaned us A Year In The Merde to read before we arrived. Great book but we found very little dog shit on the streets of Paris. When I asked if the author was overly sensitive, I was told there are new ordinances in place which make for steep fines if you don’t scoop your dog poo. Now Paris’ streets are apparently much cleaner.

I believe that evening we also went to see the Arc du Triomphe after stopping at a Monoprix supermarket to pick up supplies. We grabbed fresh baguette and cheese with a bottle of wine, which required the purchase of a bottle opener since that’s not a typical item on your packing list. Fresh baguettes in France are like nothing else I’ve ever tasted. The outside is crisp (not stale!) and the inside is soft and almost doughy. Baguette and cheese is a holy combination. I think this particular night was also my first experience of Roquefort – my new favorite cheese. Also the subject of Bush’s final act in office – raising the import tariff on Roquefort by such a huge percent that it’s now hard to find and harder to afford. Bastard. Anyway, we sat on a bench eating baguette and cheese with our bottle of wine while watching the Arc and the traffic on the circle around it at dusk.

Apparently the Eiffel Tower becomes a light show on the hour every hour after six, who knew?

We found the underground tunnel to the Arc (you can’t possibly cross traffic – and I’m someone who would normally try) and used our pass to go up to the top. Security took away our bottle of wine (but returned it when we left) so we couldn’t chuck it from the top. The Arc du Triomphe has an amazing panoramic view of the city and we stayed there to watch the Eiffel Tower light up at sunset. We took the busy, crowded metro back to the 1^st.

I don’t remember much else about the night but we spent another long period searching for a set menu for dinner, having decided to only have real meals at night to save money. It was difficult and again cold. Unfortunately, it again wasn’t as good and then we made the long walk back to the Hotel Jarry.

The mass standing in front of the Mona Lisa - apparently an hours long line in high season

We decided the next morning it was important to wake up at a decent hour so we could get to the Louvre before a major line formed. We walked down on the gloomy, cold morning after a small café breakfast and found the line for pass holders. It wasn’t bad but it still pissed me off when a huge group of older east Asian people cut us off because they were afraid of being separated (heaven forbid you should get separated for five minutes). No big line this time and we went straight in.

The Louvre is enormous. Before entering, you see the castle-like above ground buildings and the glass pyramid structures covering the atrium downstairs. The structure is four stories and three wings housing ten collections. They provided a huge layout map (including a few highlights, i.e. where to find the Mona Lisa) from which we planned our approach for the full day, trying to hit everything we were interested in without going crazy.

The closest we got to the Sphinx this trip - Egyptian Antiquities at the Louvre

Wandering the halls, sometimes at a leisurely pace and sometimes walking with a purpose, we found our way first to the Paintings section in Denon wing. And of course the aim had to first be to see the Mona Lisa. There was a large crowd around the exhibit and it was one of the few exhibits that had an actual rope barricade around it. We’d been told in high season that people could wait hours in line to see it. We were far more fortunate and there was only the crowd but no line. It was amazing to see. People often say it’s disappointing how small it is, but since I was going in with that preconception, it seemed a very decent size to me.

I am a huge Da Vinci fan, in the very distant, amateur art admirer’s sense. But even though we of course had the discussion over why such a straightforward or plain painting would garner so much recognition, I still found myself entranced by the beauty in its simplicity.

After a moment admiring, it was time to stand back and admire the crowd. Cell phones and actual cameras raised high to try to gather in that perfect(?) shot – yes, if you haven’t guessed, photography is allowed at the Louvre. It was the first time I recognized what I would notice over and over in museums as well as obvious tourist spots. People were so interested in getting that perfect picture that sometimes it seemed like they weren’t even seeing what was actually in front of them. It’s apparent in tourism worldwide but there was something about it that really stood out in Paris. Especially in the Louvre, I was overwhelmed by the atmosphere – art, paintings, sculptures adorning every possible surface and even the ceilings made into works of art. And some people seemed to walk around without any enjoyment of the amazing scenery they were in. It was too bad but I certainly didn’t let it ruin my sense of awe and wonder. Anyway, it was something spectacular to be there and see the Mona Lisa – and a couple of other Da Vinci’s I actually enjoy more.

We wandered through all the paintings and then made our way to the Egyptian antiquities section. Both incredible and ironic to be there and see so much – amazing archeological finds, statues and sculptures, sarcophagi, and a real mummy – in light of having been in Egypt without seeing anything only a month or two before. Really it just whetted our appetites for returning to Egypt (when its safe once again).

Venus de Milo

 

A good bit of time was spent in the Greek and Roman Antiquities section due to a slight obsession I have with Grecian urns. Maybe I should thank Keats for that one. Any overwhelming sense of awe comes over you when you can take the time to examine the fine details of art hundreds of years old. Even more so when you recognize that these pieces likely will outlast most of us as well. I really hope they do.

It’s easy to tell when you’ve entered an area that houses one of the so-called highlights (though now having been there I can say everything was one). The crowd thickens when earlier you could have possibly found yourself alone or nearly so in a whole room. Our next such big stops were Venus de Milo and The Winged Victory of Samothrace. The first we saw of the sculptures exhibit was impressive to say the least but really most notably overwhelming when you see these famous sculptures in person and realize just how large they are. Being dwarfed by art, whether a ten foot tall statue or a painting twenty or thirty feet long (and high!), brings a sense of perspective I can’t imagine finding anywhere else.

Also worth mentioning is how interesting it is to walk by art students (and professionals?), young and old, sitting on high stools in front of easels or on the floor with sketchbooks in front of art they are copying to understand an artist’s skill or mastery (at least that was my interpretation). I tried not to linger or stare (though I’m sure they must be immune to that). Though I often stopped to wonder, why this painting? Why that statue? And it would make me stop to look a second longer to try to see what they found to be so special in something perhaps I wouldn’t otherwise have stopped to give a second glance.

I can’t remember which of each we saw but I did love that by the end of the day we’d seen a work from one of each of the Ninja Turtles. Definitely something we couldn’t have done anywhere else.

Gargoyle on the roof of Notre Dame

After some hours wandering and viewing, we went back to the main atrium and had a quick lunch. Having only this one day left for our museum pass and still so much to do, we decided to head back out and perhaps stop by again later, being already properly drained and brain dead from art viewing.

We walked back to Notre Dame and made it in time before closing to climb to the top of the cathedral. The line moves slowly in the shade along the side of the building. It was very cold and a little windy. We kept warm with a crepe with nutella.

Notre Dame gargoyle

 

Moving up happens in waves since the stone staircase is old and narrow without enough room for huge groups. Reaching the top is impressive for so many reasons. Of course there’s the cathedral itself (I love gargoyles!) but then there’s the view of the city. It was an overcast, not terribly beautiful day. But there it was, the river right next to you and the whole city at your feet. It was amazing.

Moving up to the next highest level, there were small posters with quotes from Victor Hugo’s Hunchback of Notre Dame describing the view and perspective on the city or the gargoyles around. It made you stop and consider what you were seeing in a whole new light. Eventually we head down another very claustrophobia-inducing staircase and out onto the streets below the religious giant.

Cage atop Notre Dame to avoid any terrifying incidents - it's really high when you get up there

We made a quick stop in the underground archeological museum beneath the cathedral to see some of the ancient city walls and taste a little Parisian history. A stark comparison in the dusty earth to the shining stained glass and sculpture-adorned walls in the cathedral above.

Having missed it on the first try, we went back to the Pompidou. Chris has never been a huge fan of modern art but I adore it. The first section was some of the strange, random artwork you might immediately think of when hearing of modern art. But upstairs was every twentieth century artist I’d ever hoped to see. Dalí, Pollock, Kandinsky, Andy Warhol, Matisse, and of course Picasso. It was absolutely enthralling. Seeing the type of art I’d never seen in person before. I was absolutely thrilled and couldn’t have enjoyed it more. Of course there were audio guides and the like you could pay an arm and a leg for as you walked through. Previously and in the future, it was the sort of thing we’d avoid to stay a little cheaper but here, I didn’t want to ruin my view or impressions with any explanations. The art just sits with you and you let it fester piece by piece as your eye wanders across the colors of a Pollock or the slightest details of Dalí as you try like mad to accomplish the impossible task of taking in the entire painting. It was wonderful.

Glass pyramid atop the Louvre

 

We’d learned that Wednesdays have late night hours at the Louvre and if we left early enough from the Pompidou, we’d be able to see a little more. We high-tailed it over to the Louvre and still had an hour or two to roam the major sculptures section. After passing by a saxophonist echoing through the castle-like hallway to the plaza, we entered through the pyramids for the first time. We found the section lit up in strange ways and some areas filled with music. Apparently late night hours also meant performance art around or sometimes on the sculptures in the Louvre. Fantastic! I couldn’t believe we were lucky enough to get to come back and to see such an odd, impressive sight.

We walked through the large multi-level gallery of enormous marble statues and sculptures with the performance pieces going on around us. After entering a gallery of smaller sculptures, we found our way to the Code of Hammurabi. Chris’ reaction was, the code of what? But I was psyched! I remember just enough of junior high history to know what that meant but I had NO idea that it still existed. The first known written code of rules from Babylonian civilization. Holy crap! Talk about feeling dwarfed. I couldn’t believe we were face to face with something of such ancient importance.

Performance art on a statue platform in the Louvre

 

After this we continued to wander and I wandered into a room of, well, I don’t quite know how to describe them. Giant statues from Assyria(?). The rooms further on contained items from Sumer, Babylon, Persia, etc. All incredible but that moment standing alone at night among this giant stone sculpture that must have literally been thousands of years old was indescribable. If only I could have had a Night at the Museum type moment, because I really think that must have been what I was holding my breath for. Ancient history towered over me and it almost felt like the walls were waiting to come alive…

We wandered a bit, realized neither of us are really interested in the so-called Decorative Arts of any era, saw a little more of the paintings area, and got kidded out a bit before closing time. Fantastic. We managed to split up the day sufficiently that we weren’t overwhelmed but we got to see nearly everything we were interested in at the Louvre. That doesn’t indicate by any means that we wouldn’t jump at the next possible opportunity to go back though.

We left to try to find a decently cheap meal. We wandered far and long enough that we passed all the real restaurants and couldn’t find anywhere to eat. We were both exhausted from walking all day but Chris was frustrated enough that we just went back to the hotel to have some fig yogurt and granola from the grocery store. Sleeping was easy during our nights in Paris. You walk all day and are ready to sleep soundly all night.

The next morning I think we probably just had a quick breakfast before heading on the long trip on the metro to the train station to head to Roscoff and Stephane. He’d arranged the tickets for us in advance and we were ready to head into the countryside – only in knowing that we’d still have a few days left in Paris before we left to attend to unfinished sightseeing.

Time at Stephane's, lots of wine

 

We knew in advance that the high-speed train would be one of the highlights of the trip for Chris. Train obsessed and ready to go on his first ever high-speed train, I’ve never seen Chris so ready to board any other form of transportation. We set our huge bags down in the racks at the rear of the car (economy class of course but still awful comfy compared to what we’re used to) and found our seats – rear facing unfortunately. We were going fast enough that I didn’t do too badly but facing backwards wasn’t the best thing for me, unavoidable though it was.

As soon as the train exits Paris, you find yourself in vast green countryside, the sort of idyllic, picturesque setting you really can’t find in the states. It was gorgeous. The scenery was only occasionally interrupted by the punctuated booming whoosh of another high-speed train passing by in a split second.

I think it only took three or four hours to get to the town of Morlaix, a half an hour outside of our destination of Roscoff, and Stephane was there waiting for us when we arrived. It had only been a couple of months since we’d seen him but it was still so wonderful to be greeted by such a welcoming and familiar face.

The drive was uneventful other than being our first experience of constant round-abouts. There are no stop signs in the country in France. It’s just round-abouts. Boy was my stomach happy with that.

Stephane’s house is a few K outside of the actual town of Roscoff which houses the marine research center where Stephane works. Stephane takes great pride in his home. He has a huge garden and a little greenhouse. He eats fresh produce he grows himself every day. The side of the house is home to a small climbing wall. The inside of the house holds a wonderful wood burning fireplace in the corner where we were normally gathered. And he’s working to make the whole place more environmentally friendly. All of that being great all ready is still neglecting the best part. His home is a large property off a country road with farmers all around and an amazing view of the coast down by the town past rolling green fields and grazing horses.

We filled his guestroom with our bags, which quickly exploded as we settled in for a couple of weeks rest. Stephane took some time off work, the first Friday so we had a long weekend and then sporadic afternoons. He was really excited to have us there and wanted us to try everything French. He had a huge Tupperware container deemed the cheese box full of every type of French cheese he thought we should try. We had cheese with nearly every meal and always with fresh baguette. As I’ve said early, this is a combination I can’t say enough good things about.

Boys on the France coast, looking to climb

 

Stephane cooked for us a lot while we were there. We had tartiflette, loads of salads, baked goat cheese, chicken gizzards, and duck confit to name a few. I now understand why duck confit always comes up on Iron Chief and I think it’s absolutely cheating. Duck confit tastes so incredible you can’t possibly taste any added ingredients. He also made this common Bretagne dessert which in my mind was the French version of baklava. Like phyllo/pastry dough with tons of butter (Kouign-aman). Oh. My. God. As if eating a lot and riding all day on a bus wasn’t lazy enough in Africa, we both definitely gained weight staying in France with Stephane. But I’m sure our hearts were overly healthy since we had wine with every meal.

We also made and ate a lot of Thai food because of our time together in Thailand and the cooking class we took together. Chris loved helping out in the kitchen and I made dessert (cookies) a few times, since usually I was the kitchen third wheel otherwise.

Ironically, the one thing we only had once or twice was seafood. Being on the coast as we were, Stephane had to explain that seafood is actually very expensive in Brittany unless you catch it (or collect at low tide) yourself. Otherwise, all seafood caught is shipped somewhere for Paris for processing and then sent back to the supermarkets in Brittany. Isn’t that messed up?

Your average boulangerie pickings, heaven

 

Stephane invited his closest group of friends over for dinner. We’d heard a lot about them and it was great to meet them. Lucky for us, all but one spoke perfect English and so we were rarely left out.

The boys played guitar a lot at night. We went on walks down to the beach and into town. We did a lot of exploring locally. It was very cold but Stephane let me borrow sweaters so there was lots of walking around and getting out. During the day, there was sleeping in, lots of reading (no TV), and even a little work on the blog for me (unfortunately).

With Stephane we took side trips to other towns like Morlaix to walk in the alleys and explore the old architecture. We went to see old churches and towns in the countryside. Everywhere was upscale and everyone looked so rich and posh. It all seemed like the perfect book or movie setting. Of course it was just the area we were in but it was amazing to enjoy the rich, pastoral setting after all the many sad things and often barren landscapes we’d spent so many months seeing.

The view from Stephane's front yard

Several afternoons were spent on the shore, either wandering the beach or with the boys scurrying among the rocks and boulders looking for good places to climb. That is how they cultivated their friendship in the first place after all. Afternoons when Stephane was at work, Chris and I would walk or jog down to the shore. Looking for sea glass, climbing around WWII German stone bunkers, or going to the town’s animal park – wallabies in France? It was a beautiful place to simply regroup and relax.

Chris and I had had thoughts and quasi-plans for going to see another country while in Europe – a train trip to Amsterdam or taking the chunnel to England? – but in the end found all possible plans to be too expensive and travel too difficult from the northern reaches of France. However, we found ourselves to be fairly close to Normandy and a little patriotic sensation started to prickle in both of us that could not be ignored. Do-it-yourself travel in the third world can be messy and uncomfortable but it is perfectly doable. Getting around in the developed world without your own car is difficult and expensive. Luckily, our host was more than hospitable. When Stephane’s friends went out of town and left their car with him, he offered to use theirs and let us take his van – two front seats, a small table behind the front seat that swivels, and a bed in the back. After a quick stop at the grocery store to make things a little easier, away we went.

It was right before the trip that I started to show the signs of the coming doom. Sniffles and exhaustion, probably some fever at some point. Luckily, Stephane’s van was a stick shift anyway and so I wouldn’t have been able to help even if I’d been well. Chris said it was a terribly easy manual and probably would have been easy for me to learn on. I’m sure Stephane wouldn’t have minded but I didn’t feel comfortable learning in a foreign country without being certain of all the rules of the road. Let me reassure you though that the French do drive on the right/correct side of the road – the countries we’ve been in that use the other side are Laos, Malaysia, Cyprus, Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania, and Nepal (and apparently Thailand but so much of it was one-way that I didn’t really notice).

D-Day memorial at Utah Beach

 

We left early on a Thursday and I navigated with Stephane’s big atlas while Chris drove. There were plenty of rest areas for potty breaks but I was very put-off/confused by how so many of them had pit toilets – in France!

We arrived on the coast of Normandy after driving several hours in the early afternoon. We started at Utah beach – the furthest west. The museum/complex were under construction and there were few other cars there. It was overcast and dark for being midday. We climbed over the small sandy hill to land down on the beach. The first impression you get of this beach is of its incredible vastness. We were there at low tide, which is when the Allied Forces landed. I never think of the tide making too much difference in the shoreline but here it did. Here it must have been at least a kilometer out to the ocean – maybe even two. So first you see the vastness of the flat brown of a sandy beach. It’s beautiful in how it extends out but because of its history becomes something ugly, horrifying once the image hits. Something like the opening scenes of Saving Private Ryan comes to mind and suddenly the vastness of this beach becomes a condemnation. Those young men were weighed down by tons of gear and weaponry as they had to run that long stretch under fire. Amazing how context changes something in your mind so quickly.

We walked a ways. The only other people there, for a short while, were an American family (Tennessee sounding accent) with a guide. After walking around the memorial site with statues and old artillery, we went back and huddled up in the van to eat lunch while watching the herd of cows milling around an old stone bunker.  

Driving on to the rest of the beaches meant passing through the small town of Saint Mere Eglise, the first French town to be liberated. I believe mostly thanks to the paratroopers, which shows up in Band of Brothers if you’ve ever seen it.  It’s such a small place but it has of course the same beautiful, rustic feel of everywhere else we’d passed through. But with that French twist of course, like when Chris spotted what looked to be a small castle but on further inspection we couldn’t go check it out because someone was actually living there. The town was a great memorial to the history that had gone on there. Throughout there were signs in French and English explaining little pieces of individual soldiers’ stories of what happened during the fighting – a gun fight at the huge church, where someone hid and got away. Before leaving, we spotted an American flag hanging on a side street, alone and beautiful.

Bunker view at Pointe du Hoc

Next, we went to Pointe du Hoc, a fortified German artillery base between Utah and Omaha which could fire on either beach. This was the site at which an American ranger battalion scaled the cliff to assault the German fortification but found the artillery had already been moved. They did end up finding and destroying the actual artillery site but by the time they did more than 225 soldiers had been reduced to under a hundred. This was the first site where we really saw a lot of people. The place was enormous, a huge concrete infrastructure of underground bunkers on a cliff overlooking the channel.

The largest structure was of course on the point of the cliff. You could climb in and look out through the two foot thick panoramic slit of the bunker through barbed wire and out to the ocean. It was an amazing experience considering this was the view German soldiers had on D-Day. I found myself imagining the first shots, the sounds and sights of the American rangers coming up and blocking the view of that infinite sea.

Then, walking back through to the outside, we encountered old American men identifying themselves as veterans by the hats that at home I probably never gave a second glance. And here in this context, I suddenly felt an incredible respect and reverence. This was where they fought and won, where they watched brothers and friends die, and where they came to see one more time as time slowly creeps up on them as well. Chris went down to see the bunker after I did. I stood outside as a group of older Americans, and several vets, came through, wondering about the difference in view. How many of them could have been on the other side of this bunker looking in and now stand inside looking out? There was an old man identifiable with as a veteran by his thick jacket in the cold ocean wind. He continuously puffed on a cigar disproportionately thick compared to his hollow face. There was something about him that seemed almost indifferent to our surroundings. And while everyone else moved around snapping pictures and talking, he and I were still, he smoking heavily in a place with so much history and me wondering what his history in this place was.

Exploring the bunkers at Pointe du Hoc

Beyond the history, it was an interesting and relatively new experience just for the noise. It had been so long since we’d been around a group comprised mainly of Americans and it was terribly easy to tell. There was something reassuring as well as irritating about it. Why is it that Americans have to be so damned loud?

We drove around and eventually found the rest of the beaches – Omaha, Gold, Juno, and Sword. We stopped briefly at the memorial statue at the head of the beach but it was getting late and in order to make it in time to briefly see the American soldiers’ cemetery, we had to move quickly.

The Normandy American Cemetery was the first sight we’d seen manned by US personnel with armed guards and metal detectors to enter the memorial museum. We rushed through grounds towards the actual cemetery. Normally, if given sufficient time, there is a path down to the actual beach you can access. However, we were late enough in the day the path was closed and the rest of the site would be closed in about a half an hour as well.

American military cemetery at Normandy beaches

Caught up in the rush, the actual cemetery came upon me suddenly. First sight of a field of white crosses wipes every other thought from your mind. But then the cemetery came into full view as we rounded a corner and it felt as though I’d actually had the wind knocked out of me. I couldn’t believe how vast the field was. The number of white crosses was simply staggering. Perhaps it is something in the uniformity that makes you notice just how many there are. I don’t know why I was so taken by surprise, after all it is a cemetery. But just the same, it was terribly sad. We walked, along with many other people, through the rows looking at the names, where they were from, how old they were. There were a small number of women and Star of David grave markers scattered throughout the sea of crosses. I was struck by how many unknown soldiers’ graves there were. It was very sad but beautiful that there were still a number of them with roses.

Chris said his great uncle might be buried there but we couldn’t find his name on the lists at the front. But we still thought of him while we were there.

Utah Beach

 

After being kicked out by the older American guard, we parked outside the gates and walked down to the actual beach. The sky had cleared just a little and we had a little light with which to see the long stretch of beach where such a major engagement had occurred. With no other better reference, I thought a lot of the opening scenes in Saving Private Ryan. And when I wasn’t, I thought about the fear the young men running up that beach must have experienced. We walked up and down a ways quietly experiencing the sense of being on the beaches in Normandy.

We stopped before leaving to discuss whether we should just park there and sleep the night. However, it was going to get cold and the bathroom issue was going to be a bad one for me. So we decided to head to Saint Lo for a view and dinner. We drove out of the area of the beaches with a beautiful sunset over the pastures off the highway.

When we arrived in Saint Lo, we walked up the castle-looking structure in the center of the town. It had high walls that made it look like a castle but there was more of the town up top and a lovely cathedral as well. We wandered and snapped pictures, enjoying the view. We grabbed a kebab and heading out again. The plan for the next day had us heading back toward Roscoff with one more big stop.

Church atop a castle looking hill in St Lo - seriously, it looks like a castle

 

With few other options (we never ran across the rest area we were looking for), we stopped at a gas station for the night. We ran in to use the restroom and brush teeth and vowed to get our breakfast at their café due to my guilt. It was cold out (bitterly so) but we came armed with blankets and Chris’ sleeping bag to throw over both of us. By that point, my nose was up in arms and I had a hard time sleeping through the alternating running and congestion. Otherwise, it was quite cozy and a little snug. We pulled the curtains closed and had pitch black.

Chris was sweet and stayed inside even though he’d woken early because I was sick and still sleeping. Going into a French gas station with bed head was a little embarrassing but no more so than waiting for breakfast. The counter was full of people getting their café (espresso) and I apparently wasn’t forceful enough to get the counter lady’s attention. She was busy and hey, French people can be a little pushy. Oh well, I eventually got my pain au chocolat.

Pre-walk to Mont St Michel

 

We headed north from the highway once more to the coast to Mont Saint Michel, the famous French Abbey. The building is a castle that looks like something Disney would have gained inspiration from. It’s away from land on its own little peninsula, which you can drive, bike, or walk to. Surrounding it is either ocean or quicksand, depending on the tide, and you are warned not to walk out because you can sink/get stuck and die from the rapidly rising tide. We found the parking fee to be a little stiff so we managed to find one of three non-tow parking spots in town and walked out. It was beautiful to watch as we got closer and closer but it was very overcast, windy, and cold.

Getting inside, it was our first re-visit to UNESCO making beautiful sites into tourist-ridden nightmares. Apparently people still live within the walls, along with a plethora of stores and restaurants. We wandered the streets and felt terrible for them before entering the actual abbey. Many tour groups were around and we just tried to give them a little space (except when the Spanish-speaking group passed by and we could pick up a few tidbits). We walked through and leisurely enjoyed the beautiful architecture.

Abbey of Mont St Michel

When we emerged and had to walk back to the car, it was pouring. We were soaked quickly. Didn’t help my head cold. When we got back to the car, I had to chance back into my PJs from the soakage. We’d thought to stop at a coastal town Stephane and his friends recommended but not feeling well and lacking real clothes, we headed back to Stephane’s to warm up with wine and the fire. It was a great side trip and we were very grateful for Stephane allowing us to use his van – otherwise, it would not have been possible.

We spent the next few days relaxing. The boys went out a couple time while I recuperated. We went for a picnic on the shore on what was an unfortunately cold and windy day when I was still sick. Beforehand we stopped by at an honest to god real castle where people still live. After eating cheese and bread (can’t remember the main course actually) and sharing wine, the boys started climbing and I wandered along the hilly shore through areas thick with the flowers everywhere in the area that smell like coconut – so strongly that it still penetrated by cold.

Actual castle in Bretagne near Stephane's, people live here - Chateau de Kerouzere

Seeking shelter from the wind on the shore

 

We drove to other towns in the area for walks with amazing views. Even found an area where the boys had a ball skipping stones for a long time (they forced me to try and I’m complete rubbish at it – but at least I’m from Arizona!). The last afternoon we went to a nearby beach for the guys to examine tide pools. The array of biology was fascinating and Chris just loved it. They were turning over stones and finding all kinds of exciting creepy crawlies and crustaceans.

There's a house on an island out there and a fast moving tide between me and him

Out for a walk and rock skipping

 

After sharing many wonderful meals at home, one of our last ones we went out to a creperie. Crepes are a dish that originates in Brittany and so it was the perfect place to enjoy them. We each had a savory followed by an extravagant sweet. It was wonderful and very nice that Stephane finally let us take him out since he’d been paying for and taking care of so much for us.

Saying goodbye to Stephane was sad and hard. He dropped us off at the train station in the morning and we said we’d see each other soon, which we’d better so we can pay him back for us an amazing trip! This train ride was again backwards but made even more difficult for me by exhaustion since I decided it would be a good idea to stay up all night the night before to finish the last damned entry. I didn’t know how long it would be before I’d have consistent computer access to get it done (what has it been three months now?) After a slight nap on the train, accompanied by some slight yapping from the purse dog across the aisle from us, we woke up in Paris and made the long haul with the heavy luggage we’d been able to forget about for a couple weeks back to Hotel Jarry. We went and had a set lunch (decided know that we were seasoned Paris eaters, that it’s actually better to do the set meal for lunch and find a kebab or something cheap for dinner) while we waited for our room to be ready.

Marine biology nerds in the tidepools, thank god the tide came in or we could have been there for hours

Crab, we didn't eat him

Once everything was set, we unpacked and refused to make the same mistake twice. Rather than fall asleep again, knowing we only had a couple days to explore, we headed out to see the sights we missed the first time around. We walked to Sacre Coeur where we were harassed by people selling all manner of trinkets before we made it up the steps to an amazing view of the basilica above and the whole city below. There were people everywhere, school kids and some Greek-looking guys who felt the need to sunbathe. Further up were performers with crowds of young people enjoying Paris’ open container law.

Manly men?

Semi-clear day in Roscoff

The inside of the basilica was gorgeous, as all churches in France are. Photography was not permitted, though that certainly didn’t keep people from trying. I love seeing these places but always feel a little irreverent walking around and staring while people are actually there to pray and worship.

We walked around the surrounding area where we found the artist’s square. It was a great confluence of art but really expensive. Plus, as someone pointed it, maybe this is just where the artists who aren’t good enough to get into one of the posh Paris art institute come to. Still beautiful to view for a minute and if we were old and rich, I’m sure we would have stayed and enjoyed a seven euro coffee from one of the plaza’s cafes.

We slowly made our way down the hill through a maze of beautiful buildings and found the Moulin Rouge. Not as impressive from the outside as one would imagine but plenty of nude pictures in the outer hallway. We elected not to go inside.

Sacre Coeur

The actual Moulin Rouge, and a Quick Burger Restaurant next door

 

This time around we decided to make better use of the Paris subway due to time constraints and the exhaustion evoked by the long walk to and from our hotel. We took the subway back into the center of the city to the Musee Rodin. Rodin is one of Chris’ favorite sculptors. The museum was set up on his old property, a beautiful garden in the center of the city. We wander around the garden viewing the sculptures and got to see the actual Thinker up close and personal. The exhibits were beautiful with such intricate detail. Plus the light was going and L’Hotel des Invalides (where Napoleon is buried) in the background. We stayed until they were closing and managed to see nearly everything.

Rodin's The Thinker in the gardens at the Rodin Museum

 

Afterward, we walked to the west toward the park and the Eiffel Tower. We stopped before the actual tower and sat to each some dried fruit and drink a little bottle of wine. It was interesting to see this mammoth tourist attraction and then the park before it be full of normal Parisians walking and running, almost impervious to the giant that brings millions of foreigners. Just a normal day in the park.

Unfortunately, when we got to the Eiffel Tower up close, they were roping it off with police caution tape. We walked the perimeter and got the impression and finally confirmed that it was a bomb scare. At first we said this probably happens all the time, but there were news crews there so we weren’t sure if maybe it was the real deal (I just looked it up and it did actually make international news).  So we shrugged, circled around, and decided we’d try again the next day.

Eiffel Tower, the closest we could get to it the first try because of a bomb scare

 

We stopped at a boulangerie before walking back along the river Seine. As the sun went down, the lights came up and the reflection along the river was beautiful. We passed the government complex and several famous buildings whose purpose I wasn’t completely aware of. Finally we got to the obelisk on Champs Elysees – the historic avenue with a great view of the Arc du Triomphe at the other end. Other that the exhibit at the Louvre, it was the best up-close piece of Egyptian history we’d seen. So bittersweet.

The city lights up at night along the Seine

 

We wandered, played with our cameras with the light, and watched the Eiffel Tower light up. It was beautiful (and not too cold). Later, we wandered back to the area we always ate at and this time when to the cheap street kebab shop. It was actually amazing. And amazingly cheap! Which helped save money so that we could afford to just take the metro back up to the hotel where we collapsed into exhausted sleep. Ahhhhh warm, cozy bed.

There was supposed to be an Eiffel Tower in the background but we couldn't get it to work

If I were smarter, I would have repositioned and waited to take a picture looking like there was light coming out the lion's bum

Traffic on the Champs Elysees

We woke up the next day and after having a quick breakfast, we gathered some grocery supplies to head out to Versailles. We took the metro to the train station and then the not too long train ride out of the city to Versailles where it was only a quick walk to the castle. Once there, everything was extravagant and gold. We could have paid to go in and actually tour but neither of us were really interested in going to look at how ridiculously Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI lived in their chateau. Instead, we elected to walk the perimeter and visit the gardens.

Versailles

Gardens at Versaille

Unfortunately, despite it being one of the few bright and beautiful days we’d seen in France, it was still technically the winter season so the statues were covered and the actual gardens weren’t in bloom. But the Grand Canal extended far beyond and we elected to walk their length to have a little picnic. It took nearly an hour but it was a gorgeous and relaxing walk. At the end of the canal with a full view of the palace at the other end, we had a lovely picnic of cheese and baguette (of course!), wine (chosen because it said Picard on the label), chocolate, and yogurt with muesli. It was delightful and peaceful. We watching people walking by, people boating in the water, and a woman playing with her baby. Comic relief came when the troop of segways came by. Really?! A tour on segways?! I don’t even think they were Americans! I can only shake my head at the laziness and the terrible contrast of useless technology with beautiful French architecture.

Please join me in laughing at the Segway tour at Versaille, a terrible clash

 

We walked back and took the train back to Paris, where we got off at the stop for the Eiffel Tower. This time, the tower was open and we elected to take the stairs up to the second floor rather than the elevator. It was a great and overdue workout. The view was, well, what do you think? It’s a view of the whole of Paris. It’s great. Though it’s ironic that my favorite view is the Eiffel Tower itself and obviously it’s the one thing you won’t see while standing on it. We took some goofy pictures in which Chris decided he has to treat me like a three year-old to make me “really” smile and had to take the elevator back down because the stairs had closed. It was cramped and we were pushed up against an American family in which both parents and the teenage girl were being ridiculous. Lame peek at things to come.

Again we walked along the river and enjoyed the view. We walked back up to our hotel area and got another kebab in the area before going to bed.

Eiffel Tower shot after coming up the stairs

People waiting in line to take the elevator up the Eiffel Tower

The next morning we woke up in the dark and caught the metro back to the airport. Thank god their metro system is easy to navigate, especially so early. Security wasn’t bad, in terms of wait. They took all Chris’ carabineers, which had been latched onto water bottles and the sleeping bag. They pantomimed how they could have been used like brace knuckles. Something neither of us had ever thought of, or anyone at any of the other airports we’d been to, but now that we had, my shoelaces looked awfully appealing for strangling someone with.

Mr. Ajay and Dr. Mrs. Sruthi Thomas (courtesy of Chris)

The flight was uneventful and we landed in Newark in the early afternoon. Chris’ bag came through customs. Mine did not. Where was it? Oh still in Paris. Not like it was important to have my things with me when we’re going to a wedding though! This was a last minute flight and so everything had been booked on Continental and another US airline. God I wish we’d flown with Emirates! And then, we got to Dulles and Chris bag had disappeared as well. How is that possible? We spent a couple of hours dealing with airline personnel at the Dulles airport before we were finally able to leave to get our rental car and head to Fredericksburg, VA for the wedding – with a stop for the Dunkin Donuts Chris was craving.

Patriotic pic of the day

 

I won’t go into the whole thing but it was a great weekend. It was so, so wonderful to see some of our friends. Ajay and Sruthi’s wedding was wonderful. Lela was a sweetheart and a bad-ass for taking a big bag of our stuff back to Denver to lighten our load. Everyone else was incredible for helping take care of us – loaning clothes/shoes since we had none (Chris’ bag arrived Saturday, mine came Sunday morning). It was a great night and the Catholic and Hindu ceremonies were beautiful. Food was great. Dancing was great. Our friends are married. Pretty much wonderful. Plus, I didn’t take a single picture. Chris was on camera alert but it was great for me to take a photo break.

Cherry blossoms in DC

Sunday morning we had brunch we the families and then went (Chris, Lela, and I) to the civil war site and walked the wall. Then, we drove Lela to BWI and headed into DC. Chris’ cousin, Eleanor, is there studying art and we decided to go walk around the mall until she could meet us for dinner. I hadn’t been to DC since I was 11. It was great! It was freaking cold but wonderful that we just happened to be there at the beginning of the National Cherry Blossom Festival. Plus, it was just so timely to see the new WWII monument after coming home for just seeing the actual sites in Normandy.

We walked around and talked a lot about what we wanted to do. We both felt very tired and hadn’t realize how comfortable and easy it would be to come home and be around people we enjoy and love. Did we really want to go back into the world? I had to work hard to convince Chris we needed to take advantage of this opportunity and not just stay in DC for a week to explore (I really want to take a week at the Smithsonian!) and then go see Chris’ family. If we hadn’t already bought the tickets, the truth is we would’ve had enough money and I probably would have gone for staying. We were so, so tired.

Early National Cherry Blossom Festival

Coming back to where we parked and planned to meet Eleanor on the metro, I noticed a blonde on the escalator who looked just like Eleanor. But she’s not blond! Chris argued. I kept poking him to call her but he wouldn’t. So finally I did and Eleanor turned around. She looked great! She’s doing so very, very well for herself in DC and it was wonderful to see her. We went out to eat and got to see her place briefly as well.

After that, Ajay’s parents graciously offered to let us stay at their house for the night before our flight. We made it into the suburbs and were worried we’d be waking them up arriving too late but the whole family (parents, bride and groom, brother and his wife, and two neighbor childhood friends) were up watching a slideshow. They stayed up late and we ate a ton of wedding cake. The next morning we got a shower and even some amazing leftover Indian food. They were so hospitable and we owe them both and their families for taking such great care of us that weekend with everything else going on. Plus, Ajay made Chris’ first introduction with Angry Birds on his dad’s iPad that weekend.

Chris and his cousin Eleanor (and a homemade pop tart)

We dropped off the rental car and made our flight out of Dulles. The flight schedule was Dulles to Newark to New Delhi, India (original destination) to Kathmandu, Nepal. However, as I may have mentioned, we weren’t able to get our visa for India, which can be very difficult to obtain, and had to divert to Nepal. Well, just flying to India, we had to prove that we had a flight out since we didn’t have a visa. Luckily, I had our schedule on the kindle but the airline reps had a hard time reading/understanding it (my blood was boiling) and they almost didn’t let us on the flight because they said we were trying to sneak into India.

Well, that start is actually a great representation of the rest of the trip but I think that’s all my little brain can handle for now. The rest will come later but here’s the summary of Nepal for those who can’t wait: difficult, dirty, interesting and beautiful, frustrating and sickening, and one of the few places neither Chris or I feel the need to re-visit any time soon.

Hope you are all well and we’ll be seeing you for the first time, or again, very soon.

In new puppy, back in the states, eating salads all the time bliss,

With much love,

Sara and Chris