D-Day Tour Photos

Okay, so I added a bunch of photos.  They are not in tour order.  Hard to choose just a few:

 

The Church at Saint Mere Eglise, with the replica

of the paratrooper Steele stuck on the steeple.

The window in the church,

with paratroopers serving

as angels from heaven.

(Click on the photo to enlarge,

they are easier to see)

German bullet marks in a fence.  We know they

were German because the trajectory was at the sky.

Outside the church.

Utah Beach memorial

Utah Beach at nearly high tide.

The church at Angoville an Plain

Sorry, the stained glass windows

of WWII have to be included.

Damage from an unexploded

German mortar in the church 

German gun emplacement at Omaha Beach,

as Francis awaits our arrival.

Flamethrower damage at Pointe du Hoc

Carol and Glen at Pointe du Hoc

Nancy and Ron at Pointe du Hoc

(this was Francis' good idea) 

The tide going out at Omaha Beach

Francis leads the way.

The American cemetary

Torie, climbing out of a German gun emplacement.

Above Omaha Beach, our own private view.

Utah Beach

The girls of Pointe du Hoc

The Mud Of The Pilgrims

Well, we had our first bad experience at dinner the night before (after our D-Day tour) here at the hotel.  Dinner the first night was great -- the food was amazing, and the service was fine, despite my aforementioned run-in with the sommelier.  But, the night of the D-Day tour, we were seated at 8pm and served our main course at 9:30!  Everyone was tired and hungry.  After a two hour meal with no dessert, we were relieved to get out of there at 10pm -- and it was the most expensive meal of the trip!

Friday dawned rainy and cool.  Driving to Mont Saint Michel, I was worried we wouldn't really be able to see it.  There were points at which you could barely see a mile of the Norman countryside because of the rain and fog.  As everyone slept, I worried we would not be able to see the dramatic island Abbey from no further than close up.  The heavy rain died out as we got closer, and then Carol woke up and spotted the Abbey rising in the distance like a beacon beckoning the pilgrims who traveled there in the Middle Ages (and beyond). 

The drive was about 75 minutes long, although my fears of parking problems and crowding were not realized -- the parking and shuttle system to the causeway was well-laid out and easy to use.  I will give the French a lot of credit (and they deserve it) for how good the access is to such difficult and popular sites. 

If you've never seen a picture of Mont Saint Michel, it's amazing.  I will post some in a day or two, but click on this link to see a variety.  My photos won't be quite the same quality!

Following the advice of Rick Steves' guidebook, we lucked into the side stairs up to the Abbey.  This allowed us to beat much of the crowds by bypassing the town and going straight to the top (pun intended).

We got in a relatively short line (which was much longer by the time we were done in the Abbey), paid for the audioguides, and headed in.  The views are dramatic from up on high, and, since the tide was going out, more and more of the bay revealed itself. 

The grand stair case was the final climb up, and then we went to the West Terrace, from which the views are dramatic -- out to the Atlantic, inland for miles, and all around the bay. 

The abbey was founded as a church in 708, and the current abbey was built starting in the 11th century (old stuff!).  After the West Terrace, you go through 20 rooms, twelve of which have audioguide explanations (they are a must! -- ask for the English version, unless you have a lot more foreign language talent than I do, which isn't a hard standard to beat). 

The Abbey church itself is amazing -- built on top of the rock eighty meters above sea level.  It is amazing how, with no engines or advanced technology, they were able to transport the stones from far away and bring it up to the top of the rock, cut it, carve it, and build it.  Wonder how many people died during the building of it!  By the way, not to mention the precise calculations they had to make to ensure it was built to last on top of the rock.  Basically, it is two three story buildings built on a massive stone rising from the sea.  It is also incredible how many centuries it took to build -- longer than the new lanes on I-95! 

However, the rooms and areas after the church are even more amazing -- first the peaceful cloisters, and then to the large refectory where the monks ate.  Going downstairs leads to some amazing rooms, which are used to support the top floor buildings, including the guest hall, the crypt with its huge pillars, the charnel house, a small chapel, halls, and other rooms.  The columns and the ribbed ceilings throughout are impressive, and every which way there are impressive views out the windows. 

Leaving the abbey, we took the ramparts down, stopping at a  creperie for lunch.  Yes, it was overpriced, but we had good views of the bay, and it's not like we could wait to eat until we got back to the mainland. 

We finished walking most of the ramparts (the Mont was so impregnable that it did not fall once despite many English assaults during the Hundred Years War, which actually lasted 116 years, but hey, who's counting?) and took some stairs down to the main street.  The plan was to walk back up the street and down, but, as the guidebooks warned us, it was impassable!  So, deciding that fighting the tide of people (tide, get it? -- the bay has the second highest rising tide in the world behind the Bay of Fundy in Canada) wasn't worth it, we headed back to the town gates. 

From there Maddy, Torie and I walked out on the wet sands/mud of the rapidly receding bay to get good views of the Mont.  It felt as though we could walk across the entire bay.  Our shoes got relatively muddy (good thing I was wearing my hiking boots), but we took comfort in knowing that this was the mud of the pilgrims from one thousand years ago.

Between D-Day on Thursday and Mont St. Michel on Friday, it was two back-to-back days of jaw-dropping amazement.

Photos from Giverny

Amazing place, and well worth the trip from Paris (provided the damn tunnel is open!):

A Very Moving Place, and a Stunning View

We then headed to Omaha Beach, including a stop for lunch.  First, we visited a German big gun site overlooking one of the five draws out of the beach.  An American ship scored a direct hit, killing all three Germans -- the damaged gun is still there in its emplacement.  Francis also showed us a famous picture of the Americans climbing the stairs above it on their way inland. 

We stopped for lunch at a hotel restaurant Francis prefers right at the north end of Omaha Beach -- Carol and I had the Mussels Mariner.  These are the best mussels we've ever eaten -- done with a wine sauce, shallots, and parsley, they are much tastier than American mussels.

He showed us around Omaha Beach -- at the south end, we walked onto the beach, where he drew a detailed map of the landing zones and the battle on the sand -- which made it easy to remember.  The tide was retreating rapidly, and we had a much better idea of the size of the beach at low tide.  Looking up at the bluffs where the Germans had a free fire zone underscored how daunting it must have been. 

(We were also entertained by the sight of one of the boat-pulling tractors having fallen partway off the concrete pathway -- it was there dangling as the workers tried to figure out how to extract it.  We left before they solved their problem, but I believe it was going to involve a tow from another tractor!)

We then went to the American cemetery -- the second most visited cemetery in the world (after Arlington).  .

The cemetery is stunningly laid out in the shape of a cross, and the headstones are either in the shape of a cross or the Star of David.  They are lined up perfectly in every direction, so the effect is quite beautiful.  The grass is immaculate, and the cool breezes and sunny sky added to the beauty of the day. 

Francis led us from grave to grave, telling stories of the people buried there -- some Medal of Honor winners, some civilians, some brothers or cousins buried next to each other, and even a father and son.  The Roosevelt Jr. gravesite is interesting, and the only roped off section -- it's the most popular stop, so they are protecting the grass from being trampled.

We then went into the museum there, which was a moving experience.  Carol and I had to both dab at the tears in our eyes after the short movie.  It struck me the last time I teared up at a museum was at Yad Vashem, the Israeli museum of the Holocaust.  Both museums a result of Hitler and the Nazis.  It really was not that long ago -- it makes you wonder if such evil could ever happen again, and, unfortunately, as the Taliban has shown us, the answer is yes.

At the end of the day, Francis took us to a secret spot at the North end of the beach (although now, looking at the map, I might be confused -- it is likely the east end of the beach, since the coast there is east to west.  We drove down a country lane with tight turns, and ended up parking as one of three cars there.  We were the only tourists -- the other cars belonged to French families there using the path to the beach.  It was the fifth draw -- too narrow for vehicles to get up from the beach, but it was also the first one opened by the Americans.

We were up on a bluff with a commanding view of the entire five miles of Omaha Beach.  The view alone -- and being alone -- made the entire day worthwhile.  But, of course, it was amazing even without this. There were German trenches and gun emplacements.  Francis took us into one of the trenches and through the emplacement.  It was an amazing end to a moving and interesting day. 

Looking down on the beachgoers (the water had to be cold, but the air temp was probably 75 and even felt warmer in the sun), part of me questioned the sacrilege of using a sacred beach, but then I told myself that this is right because those men had given their full measure to liberate France (and all of Europe) so that people could live freely, rather than under the boot heel of the Nazis. 

The Boys of Pont du Hoc

I believe it was after the church that we went to Pointe du Hoc, although now looking at a map, it makes more sense that we went from Pointe du Hoc to the church, so that's likely the right order. Well, the story of the day is more important than the order (shows how much we've done between Thursday and Sunday that I can't remember all the details!).

Pointe du Hoc is an amazing part of American history.  To sum, 225 Rangers scaled the cliffs under intense enemy fire, including machine guns and hand grenades.  From Wikipedia:

The Germans had built, as part of the Atlantic Wall, six casemates to house a battery of captured French Canon de 155mm GPF guns. These guns threatened Allied landings on both Omaha and Utah beaches, risking heavy casualties in the landing forces. Although there were several bombardments from the air and by naval guns, intelligence reports assumed that the fortifications were too strong, and would also require attack by ground forces. The U.S. 2nd Ranger Battalion was therefore given the task of destroying the strongpoint early on D-Day.

Prior to the attack, the guns were moved approximately 1 mile away, where they were sighted to fire on "Utah" beach. However, the concrete fortifications were intact, and would still present a major threat to the landings if they were occupied by artillery forward observers. The Ranger Battalion commanders and executive officers knew the guns had moved, but the rest of the Rangers were not informed prior to the attack.

We walked around the fortifications, through deep bomb craters, and into the forward observation post. 

Pointe du Hoc is also famous as the site of the speech by Ronald Reagan on June 6, 1984, on the 40th Anniversary of D-Day.  That speech can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEIqdcHbc8I and is well worth watching.

The Longest Day

It's early Sunday morning the 11th as I write this, and the nearby roosters, the national symbol of France, are crowing like there is no tomorrow (evidence strongly suggests there will be a tomorrow, however).

On Thursday morning, our tour guide in Normandy did show up -- and he was well worth the money.  Francis was on time and the tour was great.  I had re-read Cornelius Ryan's "The Longest Day" -- some point soon we have to watch the movie -- so it was good having that relatively fresh in my mind.  Carol and the girls loved the tour as well -- Torie said it was the best and most interesting tour she's ever been on.

For anyone planning a trip to Normandy and are looking to hire a guide, Francis's email is francispaz@hotmail.fr.  We would strongly recommend hiring a private guide if you can afford it -- Francis took us places we would not have found on our own, and even places we would not have gone as part of a larger group tour.  Sitting in the front seat next to him, I was able to pepper him with questions much more easily than if we were part of a larger group.  Not only did we talk about D-Day during the car rides, but also about Normandy overall, France, the US, and sports.  It turns out he has guided Tim McCarver, Curt Schilling (as a Yankee fan: ugh!), and is going to guide Tony LaRussa -- so he's trying to learn more about baseball.  American football is much easier for him to understand! 

Francis's English was very good (better than Tim McCarver's! -- just kidding), and since his teachers were British, he spoke at times with an English accent, and other times with a French accent.  He admitted he couldn't pronounce cemetery, although my personal favorite of the words he struggled with -- obstacle, which he pronounced as "obsteakale."  (By the way, this is written fondly -- great guy who spoke very clear English -- I sure was not going to correct him on the three or four words he mangled the pronunciation.)  He clearly has a passion for D-Day history and stories -- he especially loves guiding veterans of the landing, who are becoming fewer and fewer.

After a quick stop in d'Isigny to see some memorials, and learn trivia that Walt Disney's ancestors were John d'Isigny and Hugo d'Isigny (Anglicized to Disney), we went to Sainte-Mere-Iglise, famous as the first town liberated by American paratroopers on D-Day.  Francis gave us quite the detailed explanation of the fighting around the church, including the story of John Steele (caught by his parachute on the steeple, he played dead for several hours), Sergeant Ray, who saved the lives of Steele and another American despite the fact Ray was fatally wounded, and the house fire that made the situation even worse for the off-course paratroopers.

It was market day in the town, so we walked around that for a short time, and enjoyed the best, and least expensive, chocolate croissants we've had on the trip.

We hopped back in the car and headed for Utah Beach.  We drove up the first of the causeways used by the troops to get through the flooded fields inland and start the long campaign to liberate France.  Normandy is very friendly and pro-American.  There are American flags (and tourists) everywhere.  In Paris we saw many tourists from Asia.  Here there were few, if any.  I might be wrong, but foreign tourists were probably 60% American, 30% British, 9% other, and 1% German.

We spent some time on Utah Beach in the same spot that Theodore Roosevelt III (better known as Jr., although his father the President was actually Jr.) spent time directing the troops even though they had landed in the wrong spot because of the tides (and the British boat pilots!).  After his talks, Francis gave us some time to walk the beach.  There were a few tourists, and even a few families swimming in the English Channel.  Unlike D-Day morning, it was high tide, so we didn't get the sense of the width of the beach until later at Omaha Beach.

It's funny -- now I can't remember whether we went to famed church in the very small town of Angoville au Plain next or to Pont du Hoc.  I think we went to the church, so I will tell that part now.  There is a book -- Angels of Mercy -- written about the two medics, Robert Wright and Ken Moore, who saved the lives of 77 American and German troops, and French locals.  I've got to read that book.  Francis told us the story of the fighting back and forth -- first the Americans took the village, then the Germans swept back, and then the Americans finally secured it. 

When the Germans came into the church and saw the medics working on the wounded regardless of nationality, they left the medics alone to do their work.  The church has stained glass windows honoring the medics and the paratroopers who liberated the town.  Three soldiers died in the church, and Francis described how the church was divided into three zones -- the less wounded, the badly wounded, and the mortally wounded.  Blood stains from the wounded can still be seen on the pews, and part of the stone floor is broken from where a mortar dud crashed through the church roof and dropped harmlessly.

From Wikipedia:

Two stained glass windows commemorate the 101st Airborne Division, the first one is dedicated to the two medics of the 2nd Battalion of the 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment (101st Airborne Division). The second one honoured the American parachutists.

(It should say "honors" --"honoured" is past tense and the windows are still there). 

More info on the medics can be found here: http://www.screamingducks.com/Page01-RaV-Med0001.html



 

Just Sayin'

If the highway speed limit in France is 80 mph (actually 81 with rounding), why can't we in the U.S. be trusted with 80 mph?  France: 80.  USA: 65.  That means we're losing to France!

More Riffs

I'm blogging in the early morning, cool weather and listening to the birds chirping and morning doves cooing in the grounds around our Normandy hotel. . .not sure where the French reputation for arrogance comes from. . .neither in 1984 nor in 2013 have I seen much arrogance. . .the sommelier at the hotel restaurant rubs me the wrong way. . .but one out of a whole bunch doesn't count.

Our tour guide for D-Day said that France's national symbol because, like the French, the rooster is "loud, proud, and annoying."  Pretty funny, and he also attributed the Americans landing in the wrong spot on Utah Beach not to the wind and drift, but to the English landing craft pilots.

What is it about pickpockets in Paris?  There are signs everywhere to beware of pickpockets (Barcelona had the same reputation). . .pickpocketing appears to be a Paris occupation. . .Carol is extra careful because in 1983 she got robbed on the Paris Metro by gypsy kids. . .even though, as a veteran of NY City in the 1970s she knew what was coming. . .but there are signs at all the major places, such as the Louvre and Versailles. .  .pickpocketing is something I've never been worried about in the U.S. 

Normandy is famous for its bad weather. . .we had heavy rain in Paris the driving day. . .and yesterday going down to Mont St. Michel. . .but the rain passed quickly and both days turned beautiful. . .we had amazing weather for the D-Day tour, and great weather yesterday from around 11am on.

Our car is great. . .although we are picking Julia up at the Caen train station later now that she has finished her six weeks at Oxford. . .it will be a little tighter. . .it's a Kia seven seater that you can't get in the States. . .great gas mileage. . .although I refuse to figure out the cost of gas. . .because it's so high I don't want to know. . .The country roads are dangerous!  Twice I basically pulled off the roads to not crash sideview mirrors with an oncoming car. . .those cars didn't slow, Mon Dieu!  The highways are fun to drive, especially at 130 kph. (80 miles per hour) for the speed limit.

We've actually had some modest issues in the smaller towns with our inability to speak French. . .buying foie gras yesterday. . .we couldn't really communicate at the Charcuterie.  And, a few of our waitresses in some restaurants don't speak any English. . .although we are pretty good at reading the few menus that don't offer English translation (in Normandy, most do). 

Pictures From A Tuesday In Paris

Pont Alexander III

Invalides courtyard, with the Dome Church behind it

Napoleon's Tomb. 

Some dude.

Locks of Love Bridge

Torie affixing the family lock

Seine

Torie's Street

 

Statue of Liberty and Eiffel Tower

 

Love, Prison, and Stunning Stained Glass

Back to the last full day in Paris (I know, the blog is jumping around quite a bit).  After lunch near Notre Dame, we walked over, at Torie's request to the Pont des Arts, also known as the Locks of Love bridge.  It's one bridge away from Pont Neuf (one of the oldest bridges in Paris), and called "Locks of Love" or "Lovers bridge" because there are thousands of padlocks on the bridge.  It's a pretty neat place, and we locked one on as a family.

There were a lot of people there, and, needless to say, some scam artists.  One approached me and tried to pull his scam with a "gold ring" he found on the bridge -- I showed him my wedding band and told him I already had one and didn't need another one.  He then went on to pull it successfully on someone else.  We're so smart!

We then walked over to the Concieragie, the prison famous for being the last stop before death by guillotine during the French Revolution.  The most popular sight there is the final cell of Marie Antoinette, although they admit that they are not sure whether that's the cell or not.  The building was the seat of the medieval kings of France on Ile de la Cite, just a few blocks from Notre Dame.  It's an imposing looking building, and did not have much of a line. 

Next door, the line for Saint Chapelle was long, and we decided to head to the Right Bank and check out the Pompidou Center.  First, however, we stopped at a Patisserie for a snack.  While the vibe around the Pompidou Center was neat, the place itself isn't the wonder it was when it first opened.  The crowds, pedestrian streets, painters, and musicians make it interesting, but the building itself looks simply like a giant human Habitrail. 

We went back to Saint Chappelle, and the line wasn't any shorter.  It moved quickly though, and that was the security line.  Then, you go into a courtyard, and there is another, longer line.  Ugh.  Fortunately, we already had our tickets (two for one at the Concieragie), so we got pulled out of line and went right in.

It's a stunning church -- all because of the stained glass windows.  It is one of the most stunning places I have ever been -- and that's saying a lot!  A section of the windows were being painstakingly refurbed (not the right word), but the place was still staggering.   Each of the windows tells part of the Bible -- from Genesis to the childhood of Jesus to the Apocalypse. 

From Wikipedia:

The most famous features of the chapel, among the finest of their type in the world, are the great stained glass windows, for whose benefit the stone wall surface is reduced to little more than a delicate framework. Fifteen huge mid-13th-century windows fill the nave and apse, while a large rose window with Flamboyant tracery (added to the upper chapel c.1490) dominates the western wall. 

The pictures don't do it justice, but here's one:

 

 

We then headed back to the hotel to relax for some time and get ready for dinner.  Your faithful blogger did what he does best (blog, of course!).

Born on the Bayeaux

On our way back from Mont St. Michel yesterday, we stopped in Bayeux to do laundry (which is always a key moment for Carol!).  What a great town!  Narrow streets, shops and restaurants spilling all over, a beautiful river peeking through the middle of it.  We got lucky and found a parking space three blocks from the Cathedral, and a half block from the launderette (packing for 13 days would be too much, and paying hotel prices for laundry is nuts!).

We explored the town, having decided to eat there.  We went into the Cathedral, which is nearly as massive as Notre Dame.  The stone carvings over the archways were amazing, and the light through the stained glass danced on the paintings and the walls.  It was just a neat place to find.  We did not get to the tapestries (on the agenda for today), partly because we didn't want to Louvre it (rush through). 

It's only ten or fewer kilometers from our hotel, so we'll hit there again -- maybe for dinner tonight with Julia.  Torie found a very good restaurant not far from the Cathedral, and we ate well -- as well as relatively affordably. 

After dinner, we drove back to the hotel (an iffy proposition, since there is no actual address for the hotel that works on the GPS -- but now we just put in the nearby town and find it).  We had picked up a bottle of wine, some foie gras, and a baguette to have back at the hotel.  They wouldn't let Carol and I eat it at the outside tables or even on the lush lawn because they didn't want their restaurant patrons watching us eat our own food (Yes, it's as nuts as it sounds).  So we took it to the swimming pool area, enjoyed an '09 Bordeaux, and watched the sun go down till 9:30.  (It gets dark here at this time of year around 9:45!).

Impressionism and Napoleon -- Not Connected, Except Tuesday

So, Monday night, after our day of hitting all the high points in Paris, I stayed up going through the two guide books (Rick Steve's -- first time with that guide) and the DK Eyewitness Travel guide to France (DK are the best for what to see -- they don't have much other info (like where to do laundry).

After breakfast, we walked the 15 minutes or so to the Musee d'Orsay.  Carol and I had talked about ordering tickets ahead of time and printing them at the hotel, but then we forgot our good idea.  The line was already quite long, so we waited patiently again.  Once we got in, the museum was great.

Despite the long line ahead of us, it never felt crowded.  Built as a train station, the openness, combined with the stunning views through the huge see-through clocks, made the place quite enjoyable.  From the fifth floor, we had stunning views of Sacre Couer, which encouraged Maddy and I to growl "Sacre Couer" in our most dismissive French accents possible.

We first made a sweep of the impressionist wing on the fifth floor.  Yes, there were lots of people there, but you could see every Monet, Manet, Rodin, Pissaro, and Renoir you wanted to see.  As I've mentioned, Carol has always (well, since before I knew her) been a huge fan of Impressionism, and I've grown to like it (don't tell her).  Sorry to those who think I'm just following the crowds, but Monet's work was the most interesting, and then Renoir's.  There's a reason those two dead guys are at the top of the list -- they've earned it.

We then went through the Van Gogh section, hit some other areas, including sculptures and the strange works of Toulouse Lautrec.

From there we took the free bus (boy, I'm smart) to Invalides, so we could go to the Hotel des Invalides, St-Louis-des-Invalides, and the Dome Church.  That connector bus from Notre Dame to d'Orsay to Invalides sure proved to be helpful to us -- faster than walking (don't worry, we still did plenty), and easier than the Metro (none of the lines go along the river axis, which doesn't make sense, so we'd be spending time changing lines and going out of our way).

By the way, in one church with an impressive dome, I noted to the girls that if it fell down we'd all be domed!  They were not amused.

We did not go into the Hotel des Invalides -- just walked through the giant center courtyard to the St-Louis-des-Invalides, the church built at the behest of King Louis XIV for his soldiers to worship in while he was next door at the Dome Church. 

The Dome Church includes the grave of Napoleon, so you have to buy tickets -- it is no longer a church.  Marshall Foch (WWI fame) and other French luminaries are also buried there.  It was neat to wander around for a bit, and then it was time to go.

We caught the free bus back to Notre Dame area and found a passable, yet not cheap, place for lunch in the area between Notre Dame and the Sorbonne.  In 1984 when I was there the area was quite affordable -- it's where I stayed.  Now it's high priced.  Thanks Euro!

(B

Pictures from a Monday in Paris

The Louvre, early in the day

The Church of the Dome from the Eiffel Tower

 

On level two of the Tower.

 

Another cool thing about

Paris is you don't have to

identify everything!

Yikes -- the only outside shot

I have from Notre Dame.

One of the Rose windows at Notre Dame

Drive-by Arting

After walking back from Notre Dame to the hotel, we went one block further to check out the massive St. Sulpice Church, the second largest church in Paris after Notre Dame.  It's not nearly as beautiful outside or inside, but worth a look if you are in the neighborhood.

We got back to the room around 4:45 to rest a bit.  For some lucky reason, I decided to check the hours of the Louvre for Tuesday.  The guidebook didn't list hours for Tuesday, so I checked on the internet -- the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays!  (Why? -- Beats me!).  So we hustled back out of the hotel, grabbed a cab and sprinted over to the Louvre.  After an argument with the ticketseller (who's job it is to sell tickets, not to not sell them!) about how little time we had, we went in.

As many people were streaming out, we were rushing in.  First to see Winged Victory (not on purpose -- it was there as we went our hurried way), then the Mona Lisa.  We rushed downstairs to see the Venus de Milo, before finding -- after some wrong turns -- Hammurabi's Code. 

It all had the feel of a drive-by arting -- sprinting through a museum to see the major works.  While that is not the ideal way to see the Louvre, we had no choice.  If we didn't go then, we wouldn't be able to go -- it's closed Tuesdays (I  know, I mentioned that already), and we were leaving Paris on Wednesday.  Yes, we paid too much for the tickets for the time spent, but after we hit the big four, we covered some additional turf before being chased out.

At this point, we were all exhausted from the day's walking, sightseeing, line-standing, etc.  So we came out of the Louvre in the Garden of Tuileries, wandered around a bit, and got some ice cream.  My bad ankle was officially killing me, so we rested on a bench for a bit.  Carol found a creperie on TripAdvisor, that was a long walk from the hotel, and 1.7 miles from our current location at the Garden.  We grabbed a cab that would only take us within three blocks of the restaurant -- it was down a very narrow road. 

After getting into the restaurant (below the Sorbonne part of the Left Bank), the one person working tried to lose our business.  First, she tried to put us at a table too small for four people.  I said no, and she wasn't happy with us.  (By the way, at that point there were two other people there, and it was a little after 6pm, so the place was not packed, and never got crowded while we were there).  So she did the passive-aggressive French thing and didn't wait on us for a while.  Finally, she got reinforcements and took our order.  The food came quickly though, and was quite good, so we went ahead and got dessert crepes too.

So, while we didn't have the tour guide Monday as planned, we did cover all the major sites in Paris.  My advice -- at least order tickets on-line and print them at home for the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Musee d'Orsay (foreshadowing) so you can skip the lines and save a bunch of time.

Sacre Bleu!? No -- Sacre Couer!

Back to Paris -- I'm behind on that by a day and half.  When I last wrote about Paris, we had just finished lunch on the Champs d'Elysee.  So we walked up behind the Arc d'Triomphe, seeing it for what we expected to be the last time.  We caught the Metro to Pigall, at the base of the mont that Sacre Couer is on.  While the neighborhood has improved since the 1980s, it's still a bit on the sketchy side.  Walking up, there were all these cheap souvenir shops, and men playing a con game I'd never seen before. 

Unlike my first unsupervised visit to NYC back in the mid-1970s (a little rougher than now), I was not tempted to get taken in by the sharks.  Back then it was three card monte, and now they use something else in their shill game.  Fortunately, back then my brother Rick let me know it was a scam, so I didn't lose money then either.  But, here below Sacre Couer, the games were going on full steam -- there were probably 20 or so con men offering the game. 

We then took the funicular up to Sacre Couer.  The basilica is much more interesting outside than inside (primarily because it was started in 1875 and finished in 1914).  Not only is it perched on a hill high above Paris, but the design is more Middle-Eastern and decidedly untraditional. 

Taking the Metro from another nearby station, we headed to Cite so we could go to Notre Dame.  After getting discombobulated coming out of the Metro, we eventually found our bearings (we were looking at the Right Bank when we thought we were on the Left Bank!) we went first to Bertie's Cupcakes, just a couple of blocks from Notre Dame.  It's highly recommended on Trip Advisor, and was quite good.  It was just a small place jammed into a tiny storefront, but a well-needed break. 

We then went into Notre Dame -- we never saw the way to go up the towers, so we wandered around one of my favorite places, and I told my favorite bad Notre Dame joke (be sure to ask me to tell you).  2013 is the 850th anniversary of the cathedral, and they had a big area to sit outside and look at the cathedral, which we did until there was a storm in the distance and it started raining.

Giverny Made A Great Impression on Us

Carol is a huge impressionist aficionado, particularly of Monet.  Our original plan had been to go to Giverny (his home, his garden, and the famed water lily pond) on our way to Normandy (Giverny is in Normandy, but on the very outskirts).  I had scratched that plan when we were stuck in the tunnel hell of Paris. 

Looking at the clock, and sensing a need to make a gesture of apology for my extended fit of anger (see post below), I suggested we should still go to Giverny -- get lunch in Vernon (the nearby town) and then go to Giverny.  Frankly, it didn't really matter what time we arrived at our hotel in Normandy, so long as it wasn't dark (which doesn't happen till about 9:45 at night here even now in August!). 

We had lunch at a restaurant on the circle in Vernon -- a nice small town.  The only drama with the lunch is whether we were parked illegally (well, we were, although we didn't get a ticket -- there was a place further down to buy a parking coupon).  The police car cruised past our car twice, but didn't stop to write a ticket, which would have been quite the capper for the car caper.

Then we drove to Giverny.  Whoa.  Very cool.  I honestly like Monet's work (don't tell Carol), particularly the paintings he did at Giverny (and also his amazing paintings of the Rouen Cathedral).  I was not sure what it would be like, although Doug McAuliffe said it was definitely worth a visit.  He was correct.  Monet's backyard was an amazing (and huge) garden with explosions of color and different flowers everywhere.  I probably went crazy with the camera. 

Then, we crossed under the street (a small country dirt lane in Monet's time) to the enchanting water lily pond (I know, you never expected to see those four words in a row written by me!).  It was like being in a Cathedral.  People were silent and moved.  The place is spectacular.  When I get a chance, I will post some photos, although they won't do it justice.

After that, we took the long drive to our Normandy hotel, arriving around 6pm.  It was down some country roads that involved major turns.  It's a good thing Carol found the directions on the hotel website, because we never would have found it.  Frankly, even those directions weren't right!  If I hadn't seen a sign for the hotel, we would have followed the directions and made a wrong turn!

We walked around the ample grounds of the country hotel, and had a great dinner in the restaurant.  It was definitely the fanciest place we have eaten so far on the trip.  I'm pretty sure the sommelier did not like me -- he hovered over me before I cracked the wine list, and I asked him to come back after I perused it.  I narrowed the choice down to two  Bordeauxs to ask his advice, and ended up going with his recommendation of an entirely different bottle.  It was great, but I sensed he wasn't happy with me.  The food was great though, and the rest of the service staff was great until we waited 15-20 minutes for the bill! I was on the verge of tackling someone to get it.

Soon we are off for our D-Day tour (which, after the snafu with the Paris tour, I really hope happens!).

In Which Our "Hero" Has a Bit of a Meltdown

Okay, so yesterday was NOT my finest hour.  It started out fine, but then I lost my temper in a big way.  We went to Charles de Gaulle airport to get the car, and our travel agent had sent us to the wrong terminal.  So we didn't get the right sized car -- it will be tight traveling once we pick Julia up.

That wasn't the problem.  And, the problem isn't that the French are stupid, although that doesn't help.  It rained hard all night long (and was still raining when we took the car from the airport), and that caused flooding at low levels on the major highways.  That caused a five mile, 45 minute back-up.  That's not what made me angry.  When I say the French are stupid, it's because this can't be the first time in recent history that it has rained hard, so why aren't there road drains in the areas where there is flooding?  Heck, all they have to do is drill a few holes in the concrete barriers and there would not be the flooding.  And when I say flooding, I mean I had to move over two lanes to keep from going through water so deep the car would have been endangered.

No, I lost my temper because when we were trying to get to the A-14 to Normandy, the tunnel was closed and there were no signs directing another route.  So, we had to take the southbound tunnel, which was closed to, so the back-up to an exit most of the way through the tunnel took forever to reach.  That's when I had my meltdown, because with technology, we were dependent on the GPS (actually the iPad map because the Garmin GPS is worthless in France!).  And, of course, the GPS and the iPad maps kept telling us to go through the closed tunnel.  It wouldn't reroute us. 

I cursed a blue streak -- stuck in a tunnel going the wrong way, with no way out.  Finally, we got out of the tunnel and hit on the idea of heading toward Chartres (wrong direction, but anything to get us out of Paris) to get heading out of the city.  Of course, if we had done what I wanted -- take the train to Caen from Paris and pick up the car there, it would have not required back-tracking through the hell that is Paris traffic in the rain, flooding and construction, but our travel agent couldn't make that work.

We weren't done yet -- we ended up taking a crazy route through Paris.  We could see the Eiffel Tower (definitely not what I wanted to see), and I made a bitter joke about being Clark Griswold driving endlessly around the Arc d'Triomphe.  A little later on, we were headed straight to the Arc d'Triomphe!  Seriously -- there it was in the distance (not far, but not close), and we were headed right to it.  Finally, we were directed by the iPad onto the Periphery Road (a sort of Beltway) and eventually made our way out of Paris, but not before seeing some of the neighborhoods (or arrondissements) that we hadn't seen -- or wanted to see!

We finally made it to the A13 after about 2.5 hours of stress and wasted time.  I did not handle myself well.

Dinner and a Show -- the Eiffel Tower from the Seine

We Got There At the Right Time

We're at the point on the blog where things now go out of order.  Last night, we did a dinner cruise on the Seine on a boat called the Marina de Paris.  I thought it would be fun, but it was even better than that.  First, we headed east, pretty far past Notre Dame.  Going along the historic buildings (we left from Musee d'Orsay) was neat, as was trucking under the bridges.  But watching people and looking at other boats on the river was an added bonus.  We went past picnickers, impromptu parties, and even people dancing along the banks of the Seine. 

The food was quite good (three of us had the salmon, Torie had the steak, of course).  The appetizers and desserts were quite good too -- samplers of each. 

It was neat going under the Lover's Lock Bridge (see related post to be written), Le Pont Neuf, past the Institute of France (not in that order), Notre Dame, Ile St. Louis, the Hotel de Ville (city hall), the Conciergerie (prison), the Louvre (both coming and going), and Pont Alexandre III.

There were two highlights, both involving the Eiffel Tower.  The first was when we turned around for the second time -- we were past the small scale Statue of Liberty at Pont Bir-Hakeim.  It was lined up with the Eiffel Tower in the background -- I will post some photos.  The second was when the Eiffel Tower put on a light show just as we went past it.  Perfect timing.  The lights on the Tower went crazy dancing, and the boat (a long, glass covered boat with perhaps 40 people out of 100 actually on it) played music to go with the lights.  I took a video and hope to post it.

Photos from the First Day. . .Versailles

Breakfast on the Blvd St. Germain

Versailles was packed

First pic outside the gates

Apollo Fountain

The front gate of Versailles, which we saw

at length whilst waiting in line.

The Hall of Mirrors

In the Courtyard

Time to Rally

We had breakfast at the hotel -- it's continental, but better than just a couple of rolls and coffee.  There's good yogurt, great croissants, excellent cheeses, and solid breakfast meats. 

Then, we sat in the lobby to wait for the 8:30 arrival of our tour guide.  At 8:45, when no one had shown up, I went to the front desk, and they said that our travel agent had never confirmed the tour. 

Now, I know what you are thinking?  What does the great Iron Tourist need with a tour guide?  (Okay, you may not have included the word "great" in your thought process, but you should have!).  Well, the thinking was that it is Paris in August, and the tour guide would be able to get us around the lines and show us parts of the city that wouldn't occur to us.

So, now we had lost some time and we had to improvise on the fly.  We walked down to the Louvre
but the line was too long, so we resolved to save that till Tuesday (foreshadowing).  Cursing our travel agent's inability to send one final email confirming the tour, we grabbed a cab and headed to the Eiffel Tower.  The line was crazy long, and since we didn't have advance purchased tickets (the guide was going to handle that), we had to wait in the line. 

Eventually we made it up -- and it was worth the trip to go all the way to the top.  Fabulous views all around, and you can't shake the feeling that you are part of something amazing from the time of Jules Verne and the turn of the previous century (no, daughters, I wasn't alive then).  Stunning feeling, and I never had the uncomfortable feeling I get at steep heights. 

From there we walked to the Arc d'Triomphe to have lunch on the Champs d'Elysee.  The bummer is that the day was half gone and we'd only covered the Eiffel Tour.  The other observation is that August is tough time to come to Paris.  Unfortunately, off-year Augusts are the only time we can travel overseas for an extended length. 

And, I know, having lunch in the shadow (figuratively, not literally) of the Arc d'Triomphe is not a smart way to eat an affordable meal.  But, at least the food was pretty good.

Life Is A Moveable Feast

A few blocks away from our hotel is Les Deux Magots, which is one of the Grand Cafes of Paris.  It was Hemingway's favorite, and is ours too.  Sartre, Picasso, Joyce (James, not Dr. Brothers) also hung out there.

The girls immediately translated Les Deux Magots the same way I did silently to myself. . .the two maggots.  (Magot apparently means "saved money for future use).

But, the place was fantastic.  In cafes, you don't sit across from each other, you sit next to each other looking out at the world as it goes by.  Between the cars, the bikes, and pedestrian traffic, Blvd St. Germain has a lot to offer.  It was quite entertaining.

In addition, we got a show from the pigeons.  One landed on the table one row below us and started eating all of the peanuts and cashews (it wouldn't touch the pretzels).  The couple at that table didn't do anything -- did not shoo it away.  It gobbled down nut after nut for quite some time.  I watched as our waiter arched an eyebrow at the spectacle, but did nothing. 

The follow on show from the pigeons came above us.  While the first row of tables was outside, we were in a glassed in area with wide open floor to top areas.  Still, after flying in through the open front windows, they tried to get out through an upper side window.  The same pigeon slammed into the glass twice before figuring out the exit.  Oh, those whacky pigeons!

The food, while nothing fancy, was delicious.  We had a healthy sized plate of assorted cheeses, and then various tasty sandwiches, etc.  The Rose was nice and crisp.  I would highly recommend to anyone that they go to Les Deux Magots to wile away a few hours.

After dinner that first day, we walked back to the hotel and promptly went to sleep!

First Riffs from France

My French is terrible. . .I have zero facility for foreign language. . .but at least I have some modest Spanish facility (which means slight Italian). . .but the French of yesteryear would have hated me. . .now they just want my money. . .so they put up with it. . .and Carol/the girls are better with the language, although they are Spanish-speakers, and French is not in their wheelhouse.

So, time for my first rant of the trip about how the Euro has ruined affordable travel in Europe. . .in 1984, after buying my train ticket, I had $20 per day to make my way. . .obviously, with a family of four (with Julia making it five on the 10th of August) it can't be that cheap. . .plus we are in Paris. . .but everywhere we go in Europe, lunch isn't affordable. . .and nor is dinner. . .boy I miss the affordable days.

The service here has been great. . .even in the restaurants people are generally responsive. . .the hotel folks are wonderful. . .and the free connector bus route was well-staffed with volunteers to point the way and answer questions.

Shockingly, we are on our third day in France and we've only had some Rose wine. . .don't want to drink wine at lunch and sleep away the afternoon. . .and the restaurants we are going to aren't high end (just high priced!). . .finally found a wine shop and bought some bottles. . .probably won't have till Normandy. . .instead of Go West Young Man!, open a wine shop in Paris, young man!

Time for the biennial ice rant. . .I know it's from the days in the '50s, 60,s 70s, and even '80s when fridges were small and electricity was expensive. . .but live a little now!  More than zero or one piece of ice in a drink won't break you. . .yes, we are Americans and love our ice. . .guilty as charged. . .but guilty for a reason!  At least the water is generally chilled when served. . .and every place sells/has sparkling water on the menu.

Strange how little entrepreneurship there is here.  In Spain and Italy, there are ice cream vendors on many street corners. . .very few water sellers/ice  cream, others on the streets.

Don't misunderstand me. . .these riffs are not complaints (well, ice and Euros are), just observations.  Enjoying Paris a great deal. . .some of the best parts isn't the sights or museums (although all good). . .but just walking down the street and seeing street life.

My Palace in the Country

The line for the Chateau de Versailles snaked up and down the huge front courtyard.  Somehow it all stayed coherent -- there was definition to the line itself, although I have to believe that the employees do watch over it.  So, there we were, baking in the hot sun, no shade, and jet-lagged to boot.

Frankly, the possibility for whiny teenagers and a whiny spouse was frightening.  To their credit, neither Carol nor Maddy/Torie complained about the wait.  The snaking line had the benefit of moving, so for the 55 minutes it took us, at least we weren't just standing in one place.

We decided not to do any sort of audioguide (which is generally interesting), mostly because we were too tired to stand in another line to rent it, and then we did not want to spend the time necessary to listen. 

Okay, so it wasn't the most enlightened tour of a humungous palace we've ever done.  But, given the lack of sleep no one had the patience (well, maybe me, but I'm pretty much a saint, you know) to spend too much time learning.  Instead we were happy just to wander from room to room, Americans in Versailles, get pushed by Asian tour groups (personal space is a good thing, people!) and marveling at the opulence of it all.  Frankly, it's kind of revolting!  (Sorry, both puns are intentional in that sentence!).

The Hall of Mirrors was the most interesting, but the throne room, the King's Bedroom, the Royal Chapel, the Queen's Bedroom, and, actually most rooms were quite interesting to see -- it was just 80% of the Virginia Bolgers and two thousand (or more?) of our closest friends (well, physically closest people, anyhow).

By the way, I know this is old news.  I know I marvel every time at the amount of ornate work that went into the palaces, cathedrals, and churches of Europe.  Some day we will get to Asia -- but generally we don't have the kind of time such a trip requires.

I gave Louis XIV credit -- he expanded Versailles and made it his base of operations so he could control all functions of government, control the nobles, and run the country himself.  Not exactly the best form of government, but at least he knew the best way to keep control, not be a moron, and keep the country moving in the right direction.  From today's times, it's easy to criticize that set-up, but the guy knew what he was doing to keep control.

After we stumbled out of the palace, we headed back to the main drag.  The handful of water sellers who were there earlier were gone.  We stopped at an outdoor café near the train station and way overpaid for really good ice cream. 

Everyone slept at times on the train ride back -- Maddy and Carol the whole way, while Torie and I took turns dozing off in a sun & jet-lagged induced stupor.  I woke everyone up upon arrival back at Invalides, and we caught the free bus back to the Notre Dame area.  From there, it was just a short walk back to the hotel.

We showered off the airplane and stand in line in the sun grime we had accumulated.  Thank God France has upgraded its showers since 1984!
 

The Garden of Overrated and Fountains

The line for the Palace of Versailles, as we had been warned by the guidebooks, was quite lengthy.  So we headed first for the Gardens, behind the palace.  There are a ton of fountains there, and lots of greenery, but not much in the way of flowers.  While it is huge and somewhat overdone, it's also not as pretty as the Schonbrunn palace gardens we visited in Vienna two years ago. 

The main fountain (Latona) is undergoing restoration, so that also took a bit away from it.  We were there in time for the fountain show, which occurs only on weekends and Tuesdays.  That part of it was pretty neat. 

The plan had been to take a tour of Paris on Monday (foreshadowing), and since we didn't know what we would do on the tour (more foreshadowing: moot point!), Carol came up with the smart idea to hit Versailles on Sunday after landing.  Yes we would be tired, but you have to push through it or else it gets tough to acclimate to the jet lag/time changes (six hours difference).

Anyhow, we walked through the gardens, finding shade where we could.  After heading down to the back-up main fountain (the Apollo Ornamental lake) and the Grand Canal.  From there, we walked the longer way then necessary to the Grand Trianon -- a small palace kind of out of the way (as out of the way as a small palace gets) -- but it was 11:30 and it did not open till noon!  So, the Gardens open at 8, the main Chateau at 9, but the Trianons (Frand and Petit) don't open till noon?

Oh well.  We cut through an angled path to the Grand Canal and had lunch nearby it.  Hopefully, it is the worst meal we have in France.  We did not expect much, eating at a restaurant on the Palace grounds, and it did not even meet those low expectations (except it did meet our expectations of high prices).  The problem was, we were trapped.  It would take thirty minutes or so to walk back to town to a "real" restaurant, although I'm skeptical how real it could be -- just another tourist trap (don't worry -- my biennial rant about how the Euro has ruined the affordability of Europe is coming).  At least by the canal we received some cool breezes.

We wandered around some of the side gardens, careful to stay in the shade until we got to the path of the three fountains, the Dragon Fountain, and Neptune's Fountain. 

It was time. . .time to hope that the line to get into the Chateau wasn't  very long.  However, when we got back to the front of the line, it might as well of read, "Hope dies here."

Off to France

The flight over was pretty uneventful – we had upgraded Carol and I to Economy Plus – which is still coach, but at least has more legroom. We all slept a few hours, but not the whole flight. When I stepped foot in France, it was for the first time since 1984. Carol was in France in 2007 with the cooking ladies, but they only spent 24 hours in Paris – the rest of the time was in Provence.

The passport wait was non-existent, so we breezed right in. Julia is studying at Oxford, so she won’t be joining us for the first week. She’ll miss Paris – although she did come for a long weekend two weeks or so ago, and she’ll miss most of Normandy.

The trip to the hotel was also uneventful – the driver spoke English but was not very talkative. We got to the Hotel – the Esprit St. Germain on the Left Bank early on Sunday morning. As expected, it was too early for our rooms to be ready, so they directed us to the tiny workout room area, where we cleaned up, changed, and headed out.

We grabbed an excellent breakfast at a café on Rue St. Germain – great croissants, bread, fluffy eggs. We then headed to the RER station to catch the train to Versailles. Which is easier said than done, since the area we went to – on advice of the hotel staff – was closed and under reconstruction since June till the end of August.

However, there is a free shuttle bus from near Notre Dame to the next open station – Invalides. So, after catching the bus along Seine and seeing the Louvre and other famous sights, we caught the train out to Versailles.