Leaving Brittany and Driving (Lots of Driving)

Ugh. I hadn't realized until now how many things need wifi. Checking email, searching our upcoming destinations, writing this blog... Since wifi has sadly been missing, so have recent blog updates. Here's anger delayed post, written on Monday, June 9:

Today was, sadly, the day we left our friends Jeremy and Gilberte's lovely house in the countryside to continue on to more places. We'll miss their lovely house in the countryside, and I think that after I've caught up on the rest of the missing posts I'll write a more detailed description of the place, both so that you guys can picture it better and so Carolyn and I will be able to remember it better. 

We left at about 1, and drove for a few long hours. Eventually, we ended up in the town of Chenonceau, the location of a famous old French château. It was around dinner time when we arrived, so we checked into this little crooked-looking hotel before eating dinner. Which sidetracks me to this: the fish we've eaten in the past week has been divine. Everything is fresh from the nearby ocean and you can taste the difference. I love the it, and I wish that all the fish from home tasted like this.

Back on track. It was too late to visit the château, so instead we called it a night and turned in to this cute little funky room:

You can see the funny little juncture of ceiling beams, the oddly slanted windows, and next to the largest bed there's an awkward corner just sticking out of the wall.

Just as we were getting ready for bed, it started to rain. At first it started out as tiny little splashed, like drops from a dropper. Then, gradually, the rain got heavier and heavier until it was raining drops the size of a quarter. We thought it was a blast and kept sticking our heads and arms through the window and laughing when they were instantly drenched. Eventually we got too cold and wet to continue, but we couldn't close the window because the room was too hot and we had to keep the air circulating to keep those of us who weren't soaked from getting to hot (namely, the grandparents). We ended up standing just out of rain's reach and pointing each time the sky lit up with lightning. Just outside the window, the gutters were racing and below, the streets transformed into rivers. It never rains like this back in Truckee, and we thought it was awesome.

Much later, the room was cool enough to close the window and we called it a night, getting a good night' rest for tomorrow's adventures.

D-Day (J-Jour) Tour

This post was written on Sunday, June 8, but due to lack of wifi couldn't be posted until now.

Today was a day of driving and remembrances of the beginning of the freedom of France from Hitler's control. Although the actual attacks and battles happened on June 6 (1944), we figured that we'd just avoid the crowds and wait until two days later to visit all the beaches and museums. Wrong. Ends up that a lot of the major D-Day, or J-Jour as some of the French call it, celebrations took place today. Throughout the day there were periodic parachute drops around Normandy (where the original parachuters were dropped) and old army Jeeps driving around, complete with authentically dressed drivers. Apparently, the same thing happens every year, but this year the celebrations are especially big because it's the 70th anniversary.

If you don't know, what D-Day is, here's the simplest explanation: it's the day that the Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy to get a foothold in France, eventually leading up to the liberation of the French people. Vive la France! To this day, the French people make a point of celebrating their freedom and remembering the sacrifices the Allied forces made to free them. As we drove through, we saw many houses and cars sporting flags from France, America, the UK, and Canada. In a way, it's kinda similar to the 4th of July, both in the actual event (liberation) and the celebration (events, shows, parades, flags). 

As a result of the occasion, there were cars everywhere. Traffic was horrible, and though we planned on visiting each of the five beaches stormed, we only made it to one of them. One of the two American attack sites, Omaha beach, or "Bloody Omaha" as it's known, had the most dead, wounded, and missing soldiers out of all the beaches. The Germans had placed these giant metal structures in the water to try and rip the boats apart, and on the beach they made huge wooden prongs to tip the vessels over. As the Americans struggled up the beach and through the obstacles, the Germans gunned them down from the ridge above. 

In order to knock out the enemy fire, the soldiers had to climb the steep ridge in plain view of the Germans and use hand grenades and explosives of the like to try and make room for the incoming waves of soldiers and docking boats. Although the Germans shot down at the men and dislocated their grappling hooks, eventually the Americans managed to overpower them and take the beach. 

We learned all of this at "Musée de Omaha," the Omaha museum. We all found the exhibits interesting and educational. Carolyn especially liked the short documentary displayed in the museum, but I personally found it a bit depressing. Interesting, yes, but depressing. Museums like these are reminders of the prices paid in the name of progressing the war. At Omaha alone, over 3300 men died. But thanks to their sacrifices, France was eventually freed, and I don't think that the French have ever forgotton that fact.

As of the moment, I'm writing this while we wait in traffic on the car ride home, and I think we've found an "aire," or rest stop in French. More updates tomorrow!

Us in front of Omaha beach. Behind us is a sculpture created in memory of the men who died.

Stone buildings and farm animals

Right. Ends up that we never got wifi yesterday, or the day before that, so I'm even more behind on posts. Here's our adventure from two days ago (Saturday, June 7):

Today, it seems that we were all over Brittany and saw enough old stone structures to last a lifetime. We started the day with a visit to a French market, complete with everything from artwork to clothing to fresh produce to bread and cheese (we bought quite a lot of the last one). Then, we took a whirlwind tour of the bay/harbor/historical site of Saint Malo and some of the surrounding areas and attractions. Among our quick drive-byes: the ruins of a castle, an old jousting ground, the remains of a World War II German base, a historical abbey, the grave of our host Jeremy's great great (great?) grandfather (where we actually got out of the car and saw a lot of old graves, some of them dating back to the 1800's), a huge (at least 12 feet) rock with carved pictures (more on that later), and the actual fort of Saint Malo. It was pretty cool, but after a while they all started to blur together as a bunch of old stone ruins. Nevertheless, we enjoyed ourselves.

The one old stone that stood out (at least to me) was The Rock, or as it is known as, the Mehrir (I think that's how it's spelled, but I might have gotten one of the "r"'s switched around). This rock was truly impressive. At at least 5000 years old, this huge rock is dug into the ground at roughly a 45 degree angle by prehistoric people.  Although I say roughly, experts are of the opinion that it was carefully placed at a special angle for some particular reason that is TBA (or more like To Be Discovered). Along all sides of the rock are carved drawings of people and axes and other similar subjects, though we have to take the word of the informative sign nearby because they've become to faint to see in broad daylight. According to the handy sign, they're best seen at sunrise, midday, and sunset. The sign also informed us that there was a medieval tradition involving the girls who wished to marry, climbing the rock, and "christening knickers." After reading the sign, of course we preceded to try climbing up with complete disregard to the marriage section. None of us made it more than halfway up (and I'm proud to announce that I made it the farthest, albeit by sprinting up the flattest side with sweaty shoe-less feet).

Once we returned to the house, we went to the neighbors' farm. While small by American standards, it was still large enough to be impressive. We were able to watch as the farmhand milked some of the hundred or so cows. In modern times, there's none of that "stool and pail" stuff. Now, they have these chugging machines that do all the squeezing. Still, the farmhand had a lot of work to do. She was calming the cows, disinfecting utters, attaching the machines, fixing them, taking them off,  and even scrubbing them shiny after a clumsy cow tripped over one (all the while talking in a continuous stream of fast-paced French). Unfortunately, I didn't think to bring the camera so I don't have any pictures of the entire farm visit. 

After witnessing part of the cow milking, we head over the the smaller barn filled with all the calves (they had about three barns of varying sizes-one for cows waiting to be milked, one for more cows, and one for the calves). They were so cute! But not in the traditional cute of puppy eyes and furry tummies. Instead, they were all spindly legs and tufts of fur on the crown of their head. When we entered their barn, they all rushed to the edges of their pens and stuck their heads out, and we had a laugh after seeing that some of the bigger ones got stuck. Two smaller ones even stuck their heads through the same gap. None of them were hurt, which was good, and after we recovered from laughing we went to get the farmhand to help the poor guys out.

As we toured the area, I think we saw a very wide variety at the animals typically kept at a farm. We saw ponies in their little stables (we saw the farmer's daughter's pony), domesticated ducks in a fenced in pond, pigs in their pen (ooh and in a different pen four little piglets), geese (big grey ones with orange beaks, not like the Canadian geese back home), sheep (and little ewes), farm rabbits (we tried not to think why they would be at a farm, and Carolyn got especially upset after seeing a litter of baby bunnies), and chickens. 

At the end of our tour, we stopped by the farmer's garage, where there was a special little "shop" of farm goods set up for the neighbors. It was a very honor-driven system; there was a little refrigerator of eggs, milk and butter available for the taking. Next to it a small whiteboard posted the prices for each. At prices like one and two euros, it was definitely a deal compared to the supermarket prices. The money was placed in an old tin can on top of the fridge, and then you were done. Very trusting. I thought that it was kinda cool, just being able to do that. Not only were the products cheaper (and not to mention better tasting), but they were also given more freely. It's not like we've been to a farm in America, but still, I don't think that they do that. 

Oh! Carolyn just reminded me to talk about the cats. All over the garden and dirt road just outside the house gates often you can find cats wandering around. From the farm next door, these cats wander everywhere. There's one particular calico cat that  likes to hang around the garden that we've taken a liken to. Carolyn creatively christened it "Kitty," which I found humorous considering I've just started reading the Diary of a Young Girl. 

Anyway, it's late. Here in France, we're closer to the pole and as a result, it he sun stays out until about 10:30. Combined with my remaining jet lag, my sense of time is hugely skewed and I hadn't realized the time. Till later! (Au revoir!)

Mont Saint Michel

Since I missed a day of blogging, I have an entire adventure to catch you guys up on. Yesterday we took a day trip to Mont Saint Michel, a centuries old abbey/monastery and later fort and prison. It looks like a giant castle blanced (somewhat precariously) on a rock, and of course Carolyn declared that it looked like Hogwarts (she also said the same about Bates College). During low tide, the huge building is surrounded by sand but after the tides rise, it becomes an island.

In this picture, you can see some of the construction going on to repair and maintain the old castle.

The sheer enormous size of the monetary may look awesome now; however, after you've had to climb all the stairs up to the base, and then all the ones inside, it gets a little tiresome. And although our Grandmother and her sore feet may disagree, I still thought it was worth it. We took an audio tour of the monestary, which I though was very interesting and as a result, forgot to take pictures of every single thing. Here's what I did photograph:

One of the many entrances and turrets of the monestary (ignore e random person's head. There were too many other tourists there to get a perfectly clear picture).

The bell tower and another entrance

The monestary was full of arches. Arches in the gardens, over doors, over windows, supporting the roof. Absolutely full of arches.

These pictures are all of the actual chapel. The room is shaped like a cross, and the first four pictures are of each limb/branch (so yes, we were standing in the Literal Heart of Jesus in a stone cross-shaped room). The last picture is of the alter. One thing I found really interesting about the monestary is that, despite it being a World Heritage site and popular with the tourists, there's still an order of monks that live, work, and worship here. While we were in the chapel we saw two of them, a man and a woman (which I found interesting, since I thought that all monks were men), praying. Then later, while we were in the souvenir shop, we saw another monk talking to the tourists. He seemed very nice, but sadly we couldn't understand his French. I guess we weren't doing as well on French as we thought we were...

The impressive Romanesque arches supporting one of the rooms.

More Romanesque arches, with Carolyn standing next to one for size comparison.

During our tour, we learned a lot about the history of the monestary. Built sometime in the 12th century (but I'm don't entirely remember the date), it was originally a place for the monks and abbots to worship. Neither of us knew the difference between the two, so Grandpa informed us that the abbots were the head monks who eventually decided that they were more important than the average monk. They gave themselves better accommodations than the simple-living monks and took on more power. Eventually, they got involved in the political affairs with the rest of the country. Later, during the French Revolution I think, the monestary's position on an island created an easily defendable location and it turned from a place of worship to a fort. Fast forward some time in the war and it became a prison for political prisoners. Eventually it returned to its original position as a monestary and continues to be so to this day.

After we were done with our audio tours, we stopped at a crêperie (a crepe store) in one of the stalls at the bottom of the monestary before dipping our feet in the incoming tide. Overall, it was a pretty fun day! Once again, it's too late to upload my posts that are behind but I'll try and get them up tomorrow, ASAP. Till then!

And Now We're There!

Ugh. I did have this whole blog post written out nicely with the pictures perfectly spliced into the text, but then my silly iPad deleted it and I really don't feel like writing it again. We got here yesterday, but didn't have wifi until now. Long story short, we took a long plane (7 hours!!!!) and watched a lot of movies before landing in Brussels. We spent a few hours resting in Brussels, which by the way is a really cool city, before driving six hours down to the state/region or something of France called Brittany, where we're now staying with friends Gilberte and Jeremy. They live in this really cool house in the smack dab mettle of farm country that was build centuries ago (in the French Revolution, it hid a priest) and they have a huge sprawling green lawn with these overgrown hedges dividing everything, and fruit trees everywhere. All the food is homemade, handmade, and/or extremely fresh, and I mean everything. Bread, butter, jam, fish, hazelnuts, cherries, apples, sausages. Everything. Anyway, the post about today's adventures will be posted tomorrow because it's really late here, and even withe the time difference I'm tired. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures:

A street view of Brussels from inside the car

Brussels is a big mixing pot of architecture. There are old stone buildings everywhere, with tall glass towers rising behind them. Actually, Brussels is a big mixing pot of everything. All the various signs are written in Dutch, German, French, and English, and there are people from around the world covering every street. It's pretty awesome.

A French farm we passed during our drive. Brittany is definitely farm country.

Carolyn catching up on some much needed sleep during the drive

Since our friends' house used to be a farm, this is their barn

Yup, the garden is even complete with a flower-covered gate

While our friends aren't farmers, their neighbors are. These are their sheep.

Artichokes growing in the garden

The stone former farm house we're staying at

Anyway, it's late now, but more updates tomorrow!