So, what did I even do in Normandy and Brittany?

...  Lots of things!  It's just that I'm a little removed from that weekend now, so my details won't be as thorough as I'd normally like to be (and if you know me, you know that I can write a LOT about a single thing).  I'll try my best to give you at least the basics.

Arromanches

We left very early that Saturday morning (we met up at about 7:15AM) and took a coach bus to Normandy where we visited Arromanches (and the D-Day Museum), Omaha Beach (and the American Cemetery), and Pointe du Hoc (German beach).  I'm not going to get into great details, historically speaking, because I know that I will get those details wrong, and I'd feel like such a cheater by looking up everything after already having visited.  I'm a disappointment, I know.

It was quite a feeling to be walking on the very beaches where these battles took place.  I tried to imagine what it was like to be there at the time...  It was not an easy game of pretend, but I wanted to try and get a feel for this place that is so rich in history.  Even just standing on the sand with my eyes closed was an attempt to immerse myself in what was around me.

We visited the D-Day museum in Arromanches, had lunch, and then got back on the bus to get to Omaha Beach, where we took a long walk on a winding pathway to another shore, and visit the American Cemetery.  That, technically, is considered American soil.  We went back to our roots while still being in France.  Pure white crosses and Stars of David covered the land, a beautiful and yet solemn sight amongst the vivid green grass and blooming flowers.  What a beautiful place to be laid to rest.

The weather was very agreeable during most of the trip.  It rained on-and-off again, but the sun remained bright.  After we had seen the cemetery, we headed to our next destination, Pointe du Hoc.

Pointe du Hoc was covered in craters left by bombs dropped by the Germans.  I really hope that I am remembering all of this correctly...  I really like history, and I find it interesting, but I do not have the memory for it like my brother does.

Our program director's daughters accompanied us on the trip.  Most of my time spent at Pointe du Hoc was with her younger daughter, a funny (and adorable) little 8-year-old, who took me on several adventures to find secret pathways and passages among the stone remains... and running up and down the craters.  I don't know if that was particularly appropriate behavior, but it was fun regardless.  It reminded me of the summer I spent as a counselor-in-training at my beloved summer camp.  Sometimes you need to just be silly.

At the end of the Normandy portion of our trip, we headed to the bus one more time and drove to St. Malo, a beautiful town (one that inspired the look and feel of Quebec City) in Brittany ("Bretagne" to French-speakers).  We stayed in a nice bed and breakfast and, after we were settled in our rooms, we went to a local crêperie and had galettes (savory buckwheat crêpes, for which Bretagne is famous) for dinner.  Mine (which I was far too excited to eat and didn't remember to take a picture of until I was nearly finished) was called l'Océan (a popular choice among my group) and it was deliciously prepared with salmon, scallops, leeks, mushrooms, and cheese.  Did I mention that seafood is also pretty famous there?  No?  Believe it.  It is wonderful.  It's also worth mentioning that cider is another well-known treat... but not one that I was particularly fond of.  I'm not much of a drinker (I never partake back in the US), so every drink I've tried has been a real effort...

After dinner, we split up, for the most part, but my group of friends went exploring.  We walked around the quaint little town, looking into shop windows and just generally admiring the way everything there looked.  Cobblestone roads, towering walls...  It was really lovely.  Eventually we made our way to the shore and enjoyed the beach by night.  Friends pointed out constellations, which I'm not familiar with finding, and inhaled the fresh, salty air that surrounded us.  After a while we decided to head back to the hotel and sleep.

Breakfast was held early, but, as I had paid for it already, I was determined to have it.  It's funny...  Breakfast in France seems so simple to me, what with all of the breads (croissants, rolls...) and such.  It's so different than what we usually have back home, and it always seems to vary, while in my experience, breakfast here only changes when I decide to have a croissant in lieu of a roll or a bowl of cereal, and then switch it up again the next day.  The "breakfast" that I have in my room in Paris (whenever I wake up with enough time to shower and eat, that is) is quite simple and often unsatisfying.  What I find amusing about French breakfast is that it seems satisfactory, no matter what I've had.  I may not even eat a lot of it, either--I suppose it's just a fact that I'm taking in a part of their culture, and that keeps me going.  I love having breakfast here, when it's not up to me to make it.  So, was it worth it to get downstairs by 8 or 9 AM to have some fancy "bready" breakfast with my program?  Definitely.

After breakfast, we (meaning those of us that managed to crawl out of bed in time to eat) took a tour with our program director, who told us all about St. Malo, its architecture, and its history.  I've already stated that I can't reiterate all of it, but I do remember the fact that Quebec City in Canada bears a very strong resemblance to this famous town in France.

Once the tour was over, we got back on the bus and drove to our last stop before going back to Paris (and this was my favorite part of the weekend)...  Mont St. Michel.  I've known about the great monastery since I was 13, working on a project for my French class while most of the other students were away on a field trip.  It is a beautiful place, a grand tribute to the Christian religion sitting atop an island surrounded by sand and waves.  It was strange to come by bus.  In fact, our program director informed us that this year would probably be the last time (at least for a very long time) that anyone would be able to visit in that manner.  The tides will be too high by next year, making it impossible to drive.  Regardless, it is worth a visit.  We toured the monastery, explored the town, and took in all of the scenery.

We were free to get lunch by ourselves...  We took the recommendation to have some agneau pré-salé ("pre-salted" lamb) and sought it out.  Normally I wouldn't eat something like that (especially considering the mostly-vegetarian diet I was following a few months ago), but I am willing to try most types of food... and, I keep saying it: the food is (at least) half the experience.  What is agneau pré-salé, though?  Yes, it's lamb, but it's a special kind of lamb.  Since Mont St. Michel is surrounded by the sea, the air is salty.  Heck, everything is salty.  The grass is salty, in fact, thanks to the sea, and lambs eat the grass...  Therefore, the lambs are "pre-salted," if you will.  I've never had lamb like this before (and I think the one time I actually tried lamb [did that really happen?], the taste I took was far too small to be particularly memorable), so I wasn't sure if it lived up to the hype.  Vanessa, Daniel, Pam, and I found a little restaurant with lamb on the menu and ordered it.  It was served with a tomato sauce, as well as fries and beans (which are a common side to the lamb).  I thought that it was very good and impressed my friends by finishing it...  Back in the US I was only eating seafood for three months, as far as meat was concerned, and that was a rare treat.  Yeah, I ate the lamb, and I enjoyed it.  I almost feel evil saying it like that... but, it was good and I'm glad I decided to try it.

Our little lunch break made us a little late back to the bus, but that's alright...  The meal was worth it.  We drove back to Paris, where my boyfriend, who had booked a last-minute trip to come and see me, was waiting.

Overall, it was a great weekend.  :)

PS:  French rest-stops are just plain weird.  I felt so strange being in a place that felt so familiar, but also quite foreign.  The similarities between what our cultures have to offer is sometimes surprising.  I didn't think that the French just, you know, drove right through every road during their trips without stopping, but I wasn't sure what those stops would be like.  Nothing fascinating, honestly.  It was all basically the same.  That was the fascinating part.

...  This entry is quite long for one that started out with me implying that I didn't remember much.  Eh, that's me.