After our trip to the American WWII Cemetery, Danuta, Michel, Dad, and myself stopped by a field full of cows with a view of the distant Mont St. Michel. As we continued our drive post lunch, we could see the mount in the distance as we rolled through the hills of north western Bretagne (Brittany).
When we finally reached our destination, we walked from the car toward the fortress/castle/monastery/cloister/village that is Mont St. Michel. It was impressive enough from the outside alone, but once we crossed the drawbridge and entered the bustling city, it was incredible. As if we'd been transported back in time to the middle ages during a festival, there were banners and colorfully painted signs, narrow paved streets and suits of armor displayed at every other window. I envy the people who still live here and get to experience it on a daily basis because it is truly spectacular.
We climbed the twisting, steep streets, and climbed countless stairs. If there was one complaint about the day, it was that there were too many stairs. I got blisters on my blisters despite being in good, comfortable shoes padded with moleskin. But it was absolutely worth it and entirely beautiful.
I've had incredible luck here with the weather, its been more than a week and every day has been sunny and warm. The day at Mont St. Michel was no exception and so though we perspired as we traversed up the mountain, the sunshine on the water and surrounding greenery was magnificent.
Once we reached the monastery itself though, everything became cool grey stone, it was almost chilly. Winding staircases led us to wide rooms full of historical importance and architectural detail, we passed a giant wooden wheel that was somehow used to lift food to prisoners when the island was used as a prison during the Revolution, and at the very top found the cloister gardens surrounded by some of the prettiest, most intricate stone work I've ever seen.
Once the tour was complete, we made our way down out through the town, tired but satisfied with our journey. It was getting late and we still had a two hour drive before us to get back to Nantes, so Dad and I expected our trip to Saint Malo to be cut. Instead, Michel insisted not only on making our way there, but stopping at various tourist points along the way.
It seems like every single tourist point in France has a set of steps you must climb in order to get the best view or full experience or whatever else. We climbed up the side of a cliff that overlooked the ocean, and at that point I was so tired I was ready to just jump into the water, it looked so cool and inviting after our previous hot walks.
Finally, we made it to Saint Malo. It is a gorgeous seaside town and if you ever have two days to spend in the northwest of France, suggest you spend them visiting Mont St. Michel and Saint Malo, but not both in the same day if you value both your feet and your sanity. After climbing up one last tower to look at the city and the ocean, again, we descended and began looking for somewhere to eat and found a little creperie that was just to our tastes. We shared a bottle of cider which is not like the American version I quickly found out, but was still very good regardless. I had a chocolate banana crepe because after a day of walking, sometimes all you really need is chocolate.
Our drive home through the dark was quiet, I think we all fell asleep from exhaustion, with the exception of our driver and zealous tour guide. All in all, it was a lovely day, I just wish we hadn't had to walk up those last six flights of stairs in the apartment in order to get to bed.
r.
