Writing by Bill & Pictures by Sylvia
After visiting the impressive American Cemetery at the Normandy Beaches we continued to travel
south to Mont Saint Michel. This abbey is
one of France’s most iconic attractions and a UNESCO World Heritage Site
visited by more than 3 million people every year. It is famously located
on a rocky tidal island (meaning it’s an island only at high tide; however, it
is always connected via causeway to the mainland) almost a mile off of the coast
of lower Normandy. As we approached the
Causeway, we noticed large flocks of sheep grazing on the flat land that lead
up to the sea. Dikes (polderisation) and occasional flooding created
salt marsh
meadows that were found to be ideally suited for grazing
sheep.
The well-flavored
meat that results from the diet of the sheep in the salt meadows, makes
agneau de pré-salé
(salt meadow lamb), a local specialty that may be found on the menus of
restaurants that depend on income from the many visitors to the mount.
From a distance you can see the protective walls
that enclose the island village and abbey.
The abbey dates back to Roman times, and was founded by Aubert, Bishop
of Avranches. It was called Mont Tombe [a sanctuary] that was dedicated
to the Archangel Michael, on October 16, in 708. Officially the name
became Mont-Saint-Michel some two hundred years later, when the church was
built on top of this granite out-cropping by Benedictine Monks.
The
Romanesque abbey of today was not started until the year 1023. It was
built primarily as in those times for the church to enforce its authority
during the crusades. According to legend, the Archangel Michael appeared to St. Aubert,
bishop of Avranches, in 708 and instructed him
to build a church on the rocky islet. Aubert repeatedly ignored the angel's
instruction, until Michael burned a hole in the bishop's skull with his finger. Ouch!
With the celebration of the monastic's 1000th anniversary, in the year 1966
a religious community moved back to what used to be the abbatial dwellings,
perpetuating prayer and welcoming the original vocation of this place. Friars
and sisters from "Les Fraternités Monastiques de Jerusalem" have been
ensuring a spiritual presence since the year 2001.
We arrived in the late afternoon. We had learned that it was best to arrive
early in the morning or late
in the afternoon to avoid the biggest crowds.
We had also read that we needed to be careful where we parked as some of
the lower parking lots were flooded at high tide. The first lot we pulled into was at least a
half mile from the island and we asked if we could find a safe place closer and
the lot attendant directed us to another drive that took us much closer and we
were able to find a parking spot along the main drive above the parking
lots. This proved to be a wise move
because when we returned to the car later in the evening, the parking lots
below us were partially flooded by the incoming tide. The tides are some of the
most dangerous in the world. This
seemingly tranquil, quiet abbey stands so proud on the summit in rather calm
looking tidal pools, yet the tides are fierce and have killed many people over
the centuries. The tides come in swiftly, changing between low and high
tides up to 60 feet, and with a force of over 3 feet per second. These are the
highest tides in continental Europe. The
tides in the area change quickly, and have been described by Victor Hugo as
"à la vitesse d'un cheval au galop" or "as swiftly as a
galloping horse". We had a chance
to view this fact up close and personal.
After parking we walked across a vast paved area that was down lower
than where we had parked.
We paused here
to have our picture taken and went on to the entrance to the island. After
finding the tourist office and paying our fees we made our way through the
outer gate into the very narrow street that wound upward through the village. It
was at this point we realized the guide books were correct about the crowds
leaving in the late afternoon. We felt
like we must be going the wrong way as most people were making their way to the
gate to leave.
In the village that wraps around Mont Saint-Michel
are touristy shops, restaurants and even a few hotels. At the same time as the abbey was developing
a village grew up during the Middle Ages. It flourished on the south-east side
of the rock surrounded by walls dated, for the most part, from the Hundred
Years war. This village has always been a commercial entity to serve the needs
of the monks that inhabited the monastery and also the pilgrims that came to
visit. Today the village continues to
provide services to the many visitors that come every day.
With a permanent population of only 50 or so people, when the
masses depart you are presented with an ideal opportunity to experience the
atmosphere of what it is like to live here. Early in the morning or late at
night the silence is broken only by the subdued and eerie chanting of the monks
as they attend their religious rituals.
We began climbing up and up sometimes on streets and
other times on steps. It had begun to
drizzle, as it had most of the places that we visited on this trip, and the
cobblestones and stone steps became a little slippery. We made our way up to a chapel and took
refuge from the rain for a while and just sat and looked at the people and the
beauty of the church. Eventually we made
our way out a small side door and continued our climb upwards. Everywhere we looked were little hidden gems;
a graveyard, a secluded garden, a tower and on and on we up climbed.
I really had never thought I would be able to
climb to the top. In fact, when we first saw Mont Saint Michel from a distance
I made the comment that I hoped no one expected me to climb to the top. But I made it - with many rests along the way
up and back.
As we started back down on the other side we noticed
the tide had turned and it was fascinating to watch as it rapidly came in
around the base of the island, burying mudflats and rocks very quickly. We took our time and finally made it back to
the gate. Imagine our surprise to find
that the large paved area we had walked across to enter the village was not
under a swirling mass of muddy water.
Now we saw why they had a raised board walk that went across to where
the causeway ended near where we were parked. We sat and rested for a while and
watched the faces of the people as we rested.
It was comical to see the reaction when they saw how the water had risen
around the entrance to the village. Eventually,
we made our way across the boardwalk and found our car. We noticed that several cars were still in
the lower parking lots and water was beginning to lap around their tires. As we sat in the car waiting for Michelle and
Summer to join us, we saw the tide turn and, almost quicker than one would
believe, the waters rushed the other way and the large paved area once again
became dry land. What a phenomenon!
One sunny day this summer we decided to visit some gardens in the Nord-Pas de Calais, a northern region of France. We located a brochure we had picked up at a tourist informaton center somewhere in our travels and decided to visit the Sculptures et Jardin in the village of Bergueneuse. We entered the address in our trusty GPS and we took off on another adventure. We traveled about an hour though the French countryside and soon came to Bergueneuse, a village of about 200 inhabitants. 
