Saturday morning I got up early to meet my friends at the train station to leave for Mont Saint Michel. It was a convenient trip, considering I just gave a report on the Mont— today.
Fun Fact: I had first heard about Mont Saint Michel on Pinterest; I saw a pretty picture of a far away place, and pinned it so I could look at it later. Who knew that I would actually get to go see something I casually glanced over online!
Legend says that the Archangel, Saint Michel, appeared to Bishop Aubert in 708 telling him to build a church on what was then called, Mont Tombe. After Aubert ignored him two times, Saint Michel burned a hole in Aubert's skull on his third visit. After that, Aubert was ready to go and did as Saint Michel instructed. Since Aubert turned Mont Tombe to Mont St. Michel, it has undergone several additions to the abbey, fortified its walls during the 100 years war, and served as a prison during the French Revolution. Now it serves mainly as a tourist attraction. Although, several Benedictine brothers still inhabit the abbey.
After walking along the picturesque road and climbing lots and lots of stairs, we made it to the Abbey—which we got in for free thanks to our visas. It is still amazing to walk around in such historical places. I cannot imagine how they built such a wonder without all the technology we have today. Once we finished gawking at the abbey, we had a long lunch at a restaurant overlooking the water. It was a pretty spectacular Saturday. Point Normandy.
The weekend's adventures were not over yet. Sunday I had to get up early and meet at the University for a group trip to Bayeux and the D-Day Beaches. We went to Bayeux first, where we visited the Bayeux Tapestry that depicts William the Conquerer's journey to the throne of England. The tapestry is insanely long and detailed. We also had time to see the cathedral Notre Dame de Bayeux. It seems like every town here has ridiculously pretty churches. I am also pretty sure that if your European town does not hold host to an awesome historical event, then you must have been a field of sheep about ten years ago.
After lunch we left to head out to the Beaches of Normandy. We saw a lot of destinations I would never have thought to visit. We went to the point where you can see all of the beaches that the British, Canadian, and American troops landed. Then we went to a site that had German bunkers that you can actually crawl into. We then made our way to the American D-Day Memorial, which is technically on American soil (the French government gave the land to the US). It felt good to be home again in a way.
Everyone kept asking, from an American perspective, what it was like to visit the beaches. I think the best way to describe it is: bizarre. It was weird hearing the videos speaking English, after a month of always expecting to hear French. There was a group of young British students visiting and of course French speakers, but my heart always jumped when I heard someone with an American accent. One of the Americans I heard pretty much summed up my feelings. He said:
"You always hear about these sorts of things, but to actually see it is something else."
We (Americans) learn about all the wars that the US fought in, but they all seem distant, on a map and in time. Although I know WW2 was recent historically, I tend to categorize it along with all the other wars I have had to study. It is another page in my history book I have to memorize. The American Memorial is simple. There is a small museum, and then the cemetery. I think the cemetery is where the reality set in. Seeing all those white crosses and Stars of David, made me think that the people smiling in the pictures I had just seen in the museum, were here, in the ground.
It is, of course, unreal the amount of fatalities, and it is definitely sad to think about. However, I was overwhelmingly in awe. I was in awe of the sacrifice that was made, and the gravity of its importance. I felt a somber pride to be from a country that played such a major role in history. At the risk of sounding cliché, I felt very patriotic. America kicked some serious ass—along with its Allied forces. Looking down at Omaha Beach, I wondered if they ever thought that people would come and visit this place, probably not. I guess my American perspective on it all is through the rose colored glasses of a blessed individual, but as I looked toward the direction of the States (the direction that all the crosses face) I felt a sense of solidarity with my fellow citizens present and past.
After the memorial we went to Pointe Hoc, where you can still see the craters left by the bombs. Besides being crazy-beautiful, it was haunting to think about the chaos that had rained on a place that I was taking pictures of with my friends.
I was exhausted by the time I made it home. I think I am still sore from all my adventures this weekend, but they were well worth it. The rest of the week will be much lighter in spirit. I plan on going to class, watching Modern Family, and preparing to return to Paris this weekend.
Whose life am I living?
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