Le Petit Cite avec Caractere - Le Mont St-Michel

I finally had to leave lovely Carnac as it was time to resume my Western France journey (that, and the hotel bill!). I realized I was hitting the mid-way point of my France adventures but it is still hard to believe that I have only been out of the US for 3 weeks - and it is still only July...November seems a long way off.  Especially when I consider my wardrobe - how am I ever going to keep wearing these same clothes over and over and over and over again??  I have done a little washing along the way, but I'm sorry to say - a sink and some travel detergent is not the same thing as a washing machine and dryer.  I won't say I stink (b/c that would be totally unacceptable)...but I have felt fresher :) 

There is an ebb and flow to travel.  You can't possibly always be up on a "high" - your endorphins need time to recover so they can shoot through the roof again.  Lovely Carnac was just the respite my poor little endorphins needed in order to truly appreciate the last couple of days.  

As I was saying - I left Carnac on Thursday morning, after I took a last little walk along the beach and collected some seashells to remind me of my time there.  The beach was littered with little gems, so I selected 3 kinds I wanted to collect and filled my pockets with only those.  By the time I returned to my hotel, my shorts were sagging below my bum like a UNLV basketball player!!

I set off with the destination of Mont St-Michel in mind.  This had been on my "maybe" list.  I couldn't really get too excited about it b/c I've never heard anybody tell me that I "MUST" go here.  But it looked cool in the guidebook and it was "on the way" to Caen....sort of.  Caen is pronounced "Cahn" whereas Cannes (the glittering Southern France city) is "Can".  I may end up going to "Can" in September, but for now..."Cahn" was my ending destination for the evening.

I bee-bopped along for a spell, taking note of the countryside and beginning to truly notice the differences that exist between French roads/cars and American roads\cars.....

1.  No trucks in  France - as in Ford F-150s, Nissan Rangers, Chevy pick-ups, etc.  When I finally noticed this, I really noticed this.  NO TRUCKS!
2. No cops lingering about trying to bust you for daring to allow the car to exceed the speed limit by 7 mph.  They just get on with it here.  Seriously, haven't seen a single cop in over 1500 km of driving.
3. Frenchies ACTUALLY use their blinkers to change lanes.  I wish Americans would get on board with this.
4. Frenchies also ONLY use the left hand lane to pass, the way it was meant to be used.  They don't really use it as the "fast" lane.  They move into it, pass the car or cars they want to, and then move back over to the right lane.  
5. There is no "personality" to French cars.  They all pretty much look alike and are the same color - Renault, Citroen, Meggane, Audi, Volkswagon....blue, black and gray.
6. Billboards do not mar the view every 2 seconds - especially not ones asking "Where would you go if you were to die today"!!!  
7. People do not ride your ass, make gestures, flash their lights, throw up their hands or shoot you dirty looks as they pass.  They just don't care enough to do these things.
8. Just when you begin to get accustomed to the scenery, a distant sight will take your breath away.
9. There are always church/cathedral spires on the horizon.

Some things are the same though...like the signs "Bebe a Bord".

The signs indicated I was getting closer to Mont St-Michel and as I came around a corner - still about 12 km away - a gasp was wrenched out of me with a full-on "OMG" as I caught my first glimpse of this place!  I know I keep saying that "I don't have the words" or "Words don't do "this" justice"- but perhaps I just wasn't trying hard enough.  HOWEVER - words REALLY can't begin to describe this place.....I'll try, though....

First - it looks like it is floating  above the ground
Second - your brain just becomes confused by what it is seeing
Third - you can only wonder how this place came to be - a city and a "church" perched on top of a huge rock....???
and
Fourth - you can't wait to get closer to figure this mystery out.

I parked my car at the foot of this surreal place, had myself a quick little snack, chugged some water and threw my purse over my shoulder.  I was only going to be here briefly......

Briefly is not a word this place understands.  Once it has you within its grasp, it....or rather, the immense horde of people inside, are not letting you out easily.  There were throngs of people stretching from one side of the street to the other - and as far as the eye could see.  Ughhhhhh....it was like being at a religious amusement park.  I could feel the hives wanting to break out!!  Only, this place was not originally set-up with the 21st century crowd in mind.  Think people with huge backpacks, families of 4 and 5 with large strollers, shuffling older people with walking aids and tour groups of 25-40 people.....in a place that originally held less than 200 people!!!  Then add in some sun, a lot of body odor, tacky souvenir shops and simply...no place to move.  You can't go left, you can't go right, you can't go forward and you can't go backwards.  The only speed of ambulation here was "The Shuffle" with an optional bob'n'weave, if possible...much like trying to leave a festival. AND, since I haven't done an adequate job of describing its structure yet, allow me to do so....a winding place with only one way to go....up, u-P, U-P and UP.  Climb, Climb, Climb.... - I finally got so fed up with the lack of movement taking place, that I channeled my old basketball self - particularly my "rebounding" self and began to throw elbows left and right...i.e. Boxing people out as I moved along.  I felt bad for a hot minute and then just realized that I will NEVER see any of these people again, and as long as I say "Pardonez-moi", they will think I am French!!!  No damage to the American reputation, thank you very much.  

I finally saw a set of stairs out of the corner of my eye and busted a move sideways to get there as quickly as possible, probably knocking a kid or two over in my haste.  I dashed up the stairs and into a small courtyard that offered a little shade and a lot of quiet.  When I regained my equilibrium, I looked around and noticed I was in a "graveyard".  Contrary to most people, I love graveyards.  They don't creep me out at all.  I like looking at the different headstones and the sentiments that people want to say about their loved ones.  What struck me about this particular graveyard was how many of the dead were men, and the years in which they died.  The years of World War I (1914 - 1918).  I think we often get so caught up in the more "modern" drama of WWII, we forget about that awful war which took place only 25 years prior and was supposed to be the "war to end all wars".  We also forget that it wiped out an entire generation of young men in Europe.  I saw an art exhibit by John Singer Sargent in Portland with Mom a couple years ago that was focused on "children".  The moving part about this exhibit is that more than 1/2 the boys depicted by Sargent, never grew into adults.  They died in WWI.

This grave in particular struck me....I can't really say why....so sad.

Ici Repose - Albert Desdoity -
          Mort au Champ D'Honneur le
15 Juillet 1918
                     a l'age de 32 ans
       Regrets Eternels

After this short break, I started the C-L-I-M-B up to the abbey at the top.  I paid my 9.50E and made my way through this incredibly impressive structure built on top of a huge hill and rock with a view to kill for.  I just kept thinking to myself - how was this place built??!!  I remembered reading the books by Ken Follett, "Pillars of the Earth" and "A World Without End" and felt like I was inside the cathedral he describes.

Mont St-Michel is thought to date back to 708, when Aubert, Bishop of Avranches, had a sanctuary built on Mont-Tombe in honour of the Archangel.  The mount soon became a major focus of pilgrimage.  It is hard to describe a "Mount" for Americans.  It is like a giant rock, in the middle of nowhere, with no surrounding rocks or other structures for it to belong to.  So, there is this little village that winds around the rock and continues upwards into this "church-like" structure at the top, capped with a giant spire.  Like I said....words are hard.  Anyways...

In the 10th century, the Benedictines settled in the abbey that was built (how they built this abbey on top of this huge rock....in the middle of NOWHERE...I'll never know or understand), while a village grew up below its walls.  During the Middle Ages, it was regarded as a representation of the heavenly Jerusalem on earth, an image of Paradise (how is that for some description...alas; their words, not mine).  By the 14th century, it extended as far as the foot of the rock.  An impregnable stronghold during the Hundred years War, Mont St-Michel is also an example of military architecture, its ramparts and fortifications resisted all the English assaults and as a result the Mount became a symbol of National Identity.  

Following the dissolution of the religious community during the Revolution (that is the French Revolution, mind you....with Madame le Guillotine) - and until 1863 (in the middle of our Civil War) it was used as a prison.  Classified as  a historic monument in 1874, it underwent major restoration work.  Since then, work has gone on regularly all over the site.  In 1979, it became listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Who is this "St-Michel" that the place is named after??  Saint Michael, head of the heavenly militia, was of great importance to Medieval religious sensibility.  In the New Testament, Saint Michael appears in the Book of Revelation: he fights and defeats a dragon (oh what I could say about Biblical literalism here.....but I won't) - thought to be a symbol for the devil.  To the Medieval man living in expectation and dread of the hereafter, Saint Michael was the one who led away the dead and put their souls in the balance on the day of the last judgement.  This worship gained traction after the Hundred Years War and expanded rapidly with the Counter-Reformation, for in the eyes of the Church, it was the only warlike angel who could fight agains the Protestant heresy....yep, those pesky Protestants who wanted to experience God first-hand rather than through a Priest.

I concluded the tour through the church, the nave, the abbey, the crypt, the great hall, the kitchen, etc. and found myself in the Gift Shop.  Like my mom, I have a magnet collection.  They are affordable, portable and a great memory of the sights I have visited.  I am going to have to make some room on the fridge at home, though.  For anyone who has seen our fridge knows...there is not one spare centimeter available.  What do you think I found in the Gift Shop...yep, you guessed it....Pillars of the Earth....in multiple languages.  I knew I was on to something with that analogy!!

Out of the abbey I went, headed for the car.  Only one way to get there....down, Down, DOWN!!!  Back through the hordes.  I will say this - I got an intensely, perverse pleasure on my way down seeing these poor fathers - literally - having to carry their strollers - WITH CHILDREN INSIDE OF THEM - up this mountain of a monastery!!  And I'm not talking about 20-30 steps...I'm talking about hundreds of steps.  HUNDREDS.  The only phrase to describe these poor men is "Pissed Off".  For my readers with children, possibly contemplating a trip to Mont St-Michel in the near future....let me give you a word of advice....Skip It.  That, or leave the kiddos with a baby-sitter.  This ain't the place for them.  And not b/c of their behavior, etc....it is just very physical, very uncomfortable at times and not a child-friendly activity - i.e. no flashing lights, no cartoon characters and no music.

As I set off for Caen, and drove down the road away from Mont St-Michel - very satisfied that I had come to this place - I found myself constantly straining to get just "one last glimpse" of it.  I nearly ran off the road several times trying to accomplish this "last sight goal"- so decided that I needed to find a "pull-off", drink in my fill of the sight and leave it there for others to hopefully see one day.  So I did.  Goodbye Mont St-Michel.

Next posting....my morning and afternoon spent saying "Thank You" to the men who stormed the beaches of Normandy on June 6th, 1944 in arguably the most historic battle in modern history - the D-Day invasions.  I have goosebumps just contemplating trying to write about what I saw and how it felt to be an American.  I was overcome numerous times.....