Finding Old Photos: France Edition

Well, I've been here before. A slow month. I could write about a lot of health things or political topics but I don't want to and you probably don't want to read them. So, it's back to revisiting the travel photo archive!

Sights and Moments We Will Never Forget

One evening last month, Rick and I glanced at my computer showing a slide show of "My Pictures" as a screen saver. This one came up and we both agreed -- that first walk on our first trip to Myrtle Beach was one we would never forget.

If I Could Go Back

Often when I post about travel, it is my beloved England or Paris. But there are a few other spots I've been to which I'd greatly love to return. I've been thinking about those places a lot lately!

Even though I have been vaccinated, it will be a long time before I feel comfortable getting on a plane and going six or seven hours across the sea, I wouldn't mind if my itinerary included another visit to Amsterdam.

I love the canals, the markets and there are more than a few museums and gardens I missed. Spring, I think, would be rather perfect!

 

 

And as long as one was in The Netherlands, it would be nice to revisit Delft.

 

After all, there are more than a few pieces of Delft china and more that I left behind. I'd love a tour of one of the workshops, too.

The first trip I took with Rick was to Japan. It was true culture shock for me and I was pretty terrified of getting separated from him. All I knew to say was "Hello," "Goodbye," "Thank you," "Excuse me," and "I have a cat." These words will not help if you get lost!

But it was a fabulous and eye-opening trip, thanks especially to time we spent with friends from Rick's Japan-America Society and Sister Cities days. We spent time in Toyko, Hiroshima, Miyajima, Kyoto and Otsu (some of those were day trips with our friends.) Kanako took us to Kyoto and I'd love to spend more time there. 

The temple at Miyajima was beautiful (and the deer so tame they even chased a man with a McDonald's bag, hoping for food!)

Kiyo and her family welcomed us to Hiroshima and we enjoyed meeting her friends.

 She took us to the Peace Museum, a somber and stunning place to visit and be reminded of the consequences of war. This installation of a thousand cranes made by schoolchildren touched my heart.

I write a lot about Paris but oh, how I would love to revisit Giverny.

Monet's home, with its fabulous kitchen and dining room, all the gardens and the small and charming town all are worth another visit.

St. Malo was another town I'd return to. It is a walled city and an old one. If you read "All the Light You Cannot See," it is set in this town which had quite a World War II history.

And good dog hygiene!

Oh, and the food was to die for! 

I'll never forget how moving the beaches of Normandy were.

Honfleur is another spot I enjoyed all too briefly -- just part of an afternoon and dinner. 

I didn't get to shop but I might have come home with one of these hats!

And when twilight came and the lights came on, it was downright magical! 

Speaking of French, should I want to speak French closer to home (or try), I would head immediately for Quebec City. The old walled city was my favorite part and there was much we didn't have time to explore in our few days here. 

Rick had cycled there from Michigan and his legs did the hills better than mine -- but oh, they were so worth it!

I enjoyed the art galleries and my birthday gift that year was a painting from one of my favorites. But it was hard to choose! 

One of the most magical places I ever visited was Martha's Vineyard and I'd go back in a heartbeat. (It's a shorter flight, too! I could even drive most of the way!)

 

 

When we visited in August 2017, we accidentally (and fortuitously) came during The Grand Illumination, where homes in the Oak Bluffs Campground, a collection of lovingly maintained Victorian homes, illuminate their porches with lanterns. 

That and the massive sing-along would have been enough.

But the towns are lovely, like Edgartown with its harbor... 

 ...and beautiful Oak Bluffs.

...and the beaches are fabulous!

There are  plenty more on the list, along with places I've never been. And I probably won't get to all these old favorites along with the new spots that intrigue me one more time. 

But I'll sure love the remembering!

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Commemorating D-Day

We all have the travel memories we will never forget. It may be the first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, standing at the foot of a pyramid, looking at the vista from a mountaintop. For me, one that will stand forever is visiting Omaha Beach at the American Cemetery in Colville sur Mere, France, ten years ago this month.

As I stood on the beach and looked up the cliff that the Allied forces had to scale -- while being shelled and avoiding mines -- I was in awe. How in the world did they do it? What gave them the courage?

Ultimately, I think it was because those brave men believed in the cause. Did they know that millions of Jews, homosexuals, gypsies and resistance workers were being gassed by the Nazis? Maybe. Or maybe they were worried about any one country controlling such a significant amount of the world. Or perhaps those from England and France were simply defending their own homeland.

What matters is that thousands of brave young men fought and died for their beliefs and to preserve the values of world peace and tolerance, liberty and democracy.

I wonder what they would say now?

Those who remain for this 75th D-Day Anniversary are now largely in their 90s or older. It will be the last of the 25-year celebrations those veterans will attend. What do they remember, these once-young men? The fear? The camaraderie of being with their fellow soldiers? The fact that they were doing something to help their country and others preserve freedom?

It is easy to forget that those on the other side were also fighting for their country. They were conscripted and required to fight -- many didn't realize what was happening in Germany until it was too late to leave. I'm not sure every man fighting for the Nazis even fully knew or believed in what their leaders were doing. They may have been forced to fight or part of the mob-mentality and frenzy that often comes during polarized times. But these men had mothers and fathers, wives and children, just like the Americans and the Brits. Yet they were in the bunkers on Omaha Beach, shooting at others just their age, with wives and children. Shooting at those who were shooting back.

Are there really winners in war?

On this 75th anniversary of D-Day, I find it important not simply to look back but to look at today and tomorrow as well. Our national and world situation is as bad as it has ever been. When you look at the documentaries that tell of the advent of World War II, the footage is not all that dissimilar from what we see on our news each and every day.

People are divided more significantly than at any other moment in my lifetime, and I came of age during the Civil Rights movement. Strides made in this country in the post-war years have taken a huge hit. Xenophobic attitudes and religious intolerance, racism and the "Me first" attitudes have not just returned but increased. We fought for liberty and freedom and yet some seem quick to deny it to others.

We see it in day to day encounters. Bullying is on the rise in schools. People are angry. There is more lashing out. Less civility.

Even good people who do wonderful things may react in ways that do ourselves, our country, our world no good. We all know the people who faithfully attend church or do good works in their community and are first to help a friend in need. But then they will express racist views, privately or publicly, bully a co-worker or neighbor, will say hateful things. "Not in my neighborhood." "Not in our country." "Those people." Every word of intolerance builds a fence, indeed, a wall, that becomes more and more difficult to scale.

War and hatred doesn't begin with countries. It begins with us. Individuals. Our thoughts. Our deeds. The way we raise our children. The words we say -- in person, in print, tweeting or online. It begins with not listening to others, respecting and valuing others' opinions. Walking in our own shoes and forgetting to think about what it is like to walk in someone else's.

We aren't perfect but we have to try.

People die because of this. They die because someone believes their way is not just better but the only "right" way.  That someone may walk into a school and shoot innocent children or take out strangers in a parking lot or at a concert, perhaps feeling angry or slighted or simply because they were told to do so because in doing so, they were defending their rights. And then, people die. That someone may oppose a belief but not see that for others, the choice is different.

Changing attitudes can take time. It isn't easy. Honoring and respecting others who disagree with you can be hard thing to master. Some of us spend a lifetime trying. But trying is all one can do. Doing our best. Day by day. Grains of sand, each a thought. Letting them go so our hand can be open to something more beautiful.

Peace.

So, I ask you on this commemoration of D-Day, to look deep within, as I will do. To seek the "better angels of our nature." To think outside our own boxes, our own families and neighborhoods and look to others. Not just the others we know and understand, but especially those we don't. The poor. The mentally ill. The immigrants. Those whose beliefs are unlike ours but as valuable to them as ours are to us. Those we fought to protect on a grim, wet day seventy-five years ago.

And if you ask, "Why should I?" perhaps this image will remind you. It was a child I saw on Omaha Beach. One small child. One large beach. I don't know her name. I never spoke to her  and I never saw her again. But I will never forget her.

This is who I do it for. And all the others.

Everywhere.

(If you are into learning more about D-Day and the experience of visiting these sites, I recommend this beautiful article from The Atlantic. It's a keeper.)

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Road Trip: Mont Saint Michel

After leaving St. James, we continued to head toward Mont Saint-Michel, an island and monastery located in the western corner of Normandy, close to the country's northwestern coast. This was the view from the car window.

Yes, as you might expect, our arrival was a rainy one, although the rain stopped and started, leaving a gloomy gray during its brief reprieves.

We parked and walked up to the massive island, which is reached (currently) by a causeway. It is largely surrounded by bleak waters -- and one wouldn't want to be caught on the wrong side of the island when the tide is in.

 Some of the visitors were better prepared for the rain than I was!

Mont Saint-Michel served as a point for holding fortifications, but since the eighth century it has been the seat of the monastery and a pilgrimage destination.

Legend has it that the Archangel Michael appeared to the bishop of Avranches in the 700s and told him to build a church on the small island. It became a strategic point in wartime as depicted in the Bayeux Tapestry, which tells of the 1066 Norman conquest of England. It is also considered a fine example of military architecture.

Over centuries Mont Saint-Michel has served as village, monastery and prison. Notably, Victor Hugo was one launched a campaign to restore the structure to national architectural treasure, resulting in the close of the prison in 1863 and eventually declaring it as a national historic monument.

The architecture is like that of no other monastery. Because the island mount is a pyramid, the medieval builders wound the buildings around the granite rock, with the abbey church at the top.

The original abbey church is clearly Romanesque in design and was built in the 11th century. Because of the weight of the structure, many underground chapels and crypts were built to support the structure.

In 1204 a fire damaged many of the buildings and when the abbey was rebuilit, it was in the "new" Gothic style. The refectory and cloister reflect this style.

The 15th century ramparts and fortifications were built to defend the site from the cannon -- a new weapon.

Now, 41 residents live on the island in apartments above shops, hotels and restaurants that one passes leading up to the abbey. 

We walked (and walked) and walked, through pathways...

...and up the cobbled steps to what I call a terrace -- I'm sure it has another name.

And, by the time we got there, the sky was a mix of gray to the sea and blue above the spire.

You see? Sun! You can't get shadow without it!

The view was pretty amazing and quite formidable -- imagine being a soldier approaching it from the sea -- or anywhere, for that matter.

One can't help but admire the builders who hauled the stone and built this massive structure, but as churches go, it isn't exactly warm and inviting.The lighting and floor of this chapel was the sole exception.

I found it cold, damp (helped, no doubt, by the pouring rain) and not particularly pleasing -- more like well-designed rock masses with some pretty incredible architecture. I suspect a little sunshine coming through the windows (and about ten degrees of heat) would have helped warm things tremendously.

Obviously, others have a different point of view. It is, after all, a place of holiness, a place of faith. And I can imagine the pilgrims found it quite amazing -- I count in that number the modern-day pilgrims who come to visit simply because they are aware of its great structure and architecture.

The ossuary was interesting. The wheel was installed in 1820 to hoist provisions to the prisoners held in the abbey during its period as a prison. It is a replica of the pulleys used for hoisting building materials in the middle ages.

There was little art in entire abbey. Here is a lovely piece -- Adam and Eve.

 My favorite area was the cloisters, a bright spot of green and color amidst much stone.

These were simply lovely, in the Gothic style, and offered many lovely and graceful lines...

...handsome sculpture...

...and some good spots for clowning around!

Because of the dampness, there was lots of moss...

...and a small potager or kitchen garden.

And occasionally, bright flowers seemed to grow from out of the rocks.

No matter where one looked, the view was quite spectacular.

Mont Saint-Michel was certainly not my favorite spot in our travels, and frankly, I was relieved to leave this cold, bleak place, with few spots that generated emotional warmth. As I mentioned, I suspect that had to do most with the weather and still being more than a bit jet-lagged. By the time we left it was close to 11 p.m., "Jeanie Time" and we still hadn't had dinner.

But I did leave with admiration for the architectural skill and history, though. It is a massive and fascinating structure and certainly one I'll never forget.

NOTE: Next we'll be going through Brittany. Remember, comments on this post and all of this series of recent vacation posts and the post about Gypsy will be entered in my 800th post drawing!