BigWeather's Blog

Woke up at the now-normal 6:30a and headed downstairs for Lidos Hotel’s breakfast — continental breakfast.  It was decidedly not great, it should have been an English breakfast, leave the continental breakfasts to the French!  Michelle and I ended up settling for rolls (and myself an additional croissant) with strawberry jam accompanied by tea.  Headed back to the room, where Michelle decided to relax while I went on a walk about the area about 9:30a or so.

I first walked up to Victoria rail station and took pictures of the adjacent Victoria Palace theater and its Hamilton marquee.  Next up was Westminster Cathedral.  Not to be confused with Westminster Abbey, the place where every King and Queen of England has been crowned since the eleventh century and the resting place for many of them.  No, not that.  Instead a pretty ehhhh red and white brick building that looked like something out of NCSU’s campus.  I was also struck by how much of the city was now glass buildings than during my past visit (in 1996) though I did see an old pub resolutely representing the old architecture!

A bit farther down the road, however, was Westminster Abbey, which is quite incredible.  I went into the shop and bought a couple of magnets before taking a few pictures of the exterior.  As time was short and I’d seen it two-and-a-half decades prior I decided to move on to Big Ben and Parliament.  Unfortunately Big Ben was under scaffolding for restoration until at least 2021.  Foiled again by my arch-nemesis, scaffolding!  From nearby Westminster Bridge there was an excellent view not only of shy Big Ben but also the Thames and the London Eye on the far side.  As it was a pleasant, if a bit chilly, day there were people out and about enjoying the weather.  One sad note, however, were the large elliptical barriers, about three or so feet high, erected I’m sure as a response to the terror attack last year that claimed five victims (and the perpetrator, but f’him).

I walked along the south side of the Thames to the next bridge, Lambeth, and back into the Pimlico neighborhood of Westminster.  It was far less crowded here, quite quiet, and I passed some “estates” of apartment buildings, often with their own church and other amenities.  There was also a charming rose garden.  A short time later I arrived back at Lidos hotel with five minutes to spare before I had promised I’d be back, 11:45a.  Decided to use that time to poke my head in to the adjacent hotel, the Luna Simone, to see if they’d keep our bags the next day (as we would be checking in with them) while we ran off to sight-see.

After a few minutes of getting gussied up Michelle and I walked down to Victoria rail station and out the other side to try out a burger joint that I had read was popular in London — Bleecker Street.  Apparently burgers were becoming popular — we had seen Five Guys, Shake Shack, and other chains all over.  Michelle ordered a cheeseburger while I got a bacon cheeseburger.  We also got some “angry fries” — basically fries with bleu cheese and hot sauce (though we held that).  Michelle had a vanilla milkshake while I had a coffee milkshake.  The burgers were OK, not the best we’ve had but not too shabby.  The fries were quite good, we especially liked that the bleu cheese wasn’t chunky but more of a sauce.  The shakes were really good, though the small particles of coffee in mine did elicit some coughing.

After lunch we walked a block to the Victoria Palace theater and got in line for our 2:30p matinee of the musical “Hamilton”.  We chatted with the people behind us in line a bit and shortly thereafter at 1:15p the doors opened and we entered.  All they had to do was scan our card and it printed out tickets for us on the spot, really efficient.  We visited the shop selling Hamilton stuff first, a good call as by the time we left with our magnet, program, and a shirt for Michelle it was packed.  After a bathroom visit we took our seats on the middle level (“royal pavilion”), third row.  What a great view of the stage!

Before it started I chatted with the guy to my left, a retired school principal from Rhode Island near the border with Connecticut.  He was on a tour of England, Scotland, and Wales.  Nice fellow.  2:30p came and the show started right on time.  I had listened to the soundtrack a few times since getting tickets but seeing it was entirely something else.  The West End cast sounded a bit different from the Broadway recording I had listened to but I quickly adjusted.  Visually it was stunning and there were subtle things I missed when I was only listening to it.  Going in I wasn’t sure how the British audience would react to a show about the American Revolution and particularly the portrayal of their former King, George III.  They loved it!  The first half had so many great numbers and all the exciting war stuff, the second half has a great emotional impact and also somehow manages to make cabinet battles interesting.  Really can’t say enough good about the show, see it if you can!

During intermission (only fifteen minutes!) we were surprised to see that they sold Haagen-Dazs ice cream — vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry — and actually let us eat it in our seats.  Crazy!  We also talked with the young lady to Michelle’s right.  She had fallen in love with Hamilton’s music through a YouTube recommendation and begged her father to get her tickets for her 18th birthday.  She had become so interested in the musical that she was now in England doing her “A-levels” (whatever *that* is) in American History.  After the show (which wrapped up shortly before 5p) she took pictures of us in front of the theater.

Before going to the theater the Lidos Hotel front desk had recommended A. Wong for Chinese but said that we were unlikely to get in without a reservation as they had received a Michelin star and were now greatly in demand.  They were right, and not only for Thursday night but also Saturday.  They did recommend, however, a place on the other side of the block — Dragon Inn.  It turned out to be a great recommendation.  It was pleasantly decorated and we munched on shrimp chips until our appetizer of spring rolls arrived.  The staff was very involved, even putting the napkin in my lap and moving the bowl of shrimp chips back after Michelle had moved it.  Thankfully they had forks on request so Michelle and I didn’t look foolish eating our entrees — sweet and sour chicken (served in a half pineapple!) for Michelle and ginger and scallion beef for me.  Both were very tasty!

About 7p headed back to the room and watched some TV — Grimm, Medium, all sorts of American shows haha.  Went to bed shortly after midnight after typing up a few blogs and offloading pictures.

 

We awoke shortly after 6a, got a quick (and delicious — other than some quite cold eggs) Hotel Phileas breakfast.  Once back in our room we hastily packed and headed downstairs whereupon a taxi was summoned for us about 8:30a.  The drive to Paris Gare du Nord was around twenty minutes despite being only a mile away.  The city fairly glowed in the morning light and was quite extraordinary.  I don’t think the driver spoke much English so we exchanged the briefest of “ca va?” “ca va bien” pleasantries.

Gare du Nord was a hive of activity but we were isolated from it by having to go through the Eurostar boarding process.  First we had to stand in line and scan our tickets, pass our luggage through a scanner, go through a metal detector, then talk with the UK Border Force after handing them our customs landing cards.  I didn’t get to fully fill them both out and got some heat for that, especially when I moved around to the other side of Michelle to try and write and he was like “I don’t know why you’re going over there, sir, I certainly didn’t ask you to do that.”  He also grilled me about my profession and wanted to ensure that I didn’t do any work with defense contractors as that must be disclosed (I don’t, and answered thus).

Once through that we were discharged into a waiting area with shops and seats.  We talked a bit with a guy from New York who was thoroughly happy to be leaving France and returning to the UK.  We talked a bit about Florence, North Carolina, and it turns out he was a frequent visitor to Murphy.  At last our train was ready to board and, lo and behold, we were facing backwards again!  Grrrrr…  We left a little later than scheduled, about 10:30a.  The train fairly zipped along, first through the Paris suburbs then past farms and quaint villages on the way to Calais.  The train actually made a loop from south to east to north to west around the town of Lille, less than two miles from Belgium at one point.  So close!  Though it wouldn’t have counted even if we entered Belgium as it would’ve just been in transit.  Gotta eat, shop, or sleep for it to count!

Just before Calais I was getting excited about entering the Chunnel.  Would would it be like?  Maybe it was because we were facing backwards but it was decidedly underwhelming.  One second it was light and the pleasant countryside was passing by, the next it was pitch dark.  Yeah, don’t know what I expected in hindsight!  For twenty minutes we cruised through the tunnel and then full daylight again.  Not much was different on this side, near Folkstone, other than everyone was driving on the wrong side of the road.  Another forty-five minutes or so later we had arrived at London St. Pancras, grabbed our luggage, and entered the main part of the station.  While each of us used the restroom the other guarded the bags and listened to random travelers step up and play music on a piano.  First was an older guy playing classical (Genetta would know what it was, we didn’t) then a teenager playing Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”.

We got a London Black Cab to our hotel, taking almost forty-five minutes.  We were separated from the driver by a Plexiglas partition but could talk to each other via an intercom system.  He was a really chatty Londoner of Indian descent.  We talked about sports (cricket and tennis, mainly) and holiday travel (he shares my obsession with trying to be early when traveling — is this foreshadowing?).  He remarked that the warm and sunny weather London was experiencing was very unusual.  After paying him via credit card we stepped into the lobby of the Lidos Hotel.

There was an older gentleman and a younger lady waiting and we were checked in very quickly.  We headed up to our room and quickly freshened up, exiting again around 1:30p.  By this time Michelle and I needed food badly.  We stopped by a pub called the Prince of Wales where Michelle had a BLT (without T) and I a shepherd’s pie with a side of peas.  We also got two comically small ginger ales.  The BLT wasn’t great but between it and the side of fries she was able to hold off the hunger a bit.  My shepherd’s pie was great and I tolerated the peas.  The bartender was a friendly lady and there were a few locals (including one with a hacking cough) in even at this mid-afternoon hour.

We made our way to Victoria Underground station and bought two off-peak day passes (at almost 13 pounds each!), then took the Victoria Line to Oxford Circus and the Bakerloo line to Paddington.  The PA system kept mentioning a strike that would affect the Picadilly line — hopefully we wouldn’t be needing that.  We got to Paddington just before 3p with the next train departing at 3:22p.  As our tickets were for 4p I confirmed with the GWR (Great Western Railway) representative what the time to Oxford would be — thirty minutes.

Uhhhh, no.  After a fairly pleasant ride with a parade of comers and goers sitting across from us (including a distinctly British couple where the gentleman groused about everything including how his friends would be sorry they are living in Birmingham as they’d surely get robbed) and stops at Slough and Reading and Oxford only a few miles away the train slowed to a crawl.  We ended up getting into Oxford slightly past 4:15p, nowhere near the 3:52p we expected!  Still, I clung to hope and hailed us a taxi (this driver not nearly as friendly as the one earlier).  Got dropped off (in not quite the correct place) and walked up to the exhibition…

…only to be barred admission by the guard as it was closing in five minutes.  To say I wasn’t happy is an understatement.  It wasn’t his fault, of course.  Things just didn’t work out.  We went to the exhibition’s gift shop and bought something (but not a magnet — those weren’t in stock, as were several other things).  Funny that the exhibition closed so promptly but they’d let the store stay open longer for the almighty pound.

We took some pictures of the Sheldonian Theater (with a surprise appearance by a red hot air balloon) and of the Bodleian Library then went off in search of a bathroom, finding one at Blackwell’s Bookshop, an immense bookstore sprawling over four stories.

Afterwards we shared a water at their cafe then headed out for dinner.  Along the way we passed several stores all cashing in on Harry Potter (I guess being a university town?) but they were thankfully (for my wallet) closed.

We then turned up St. Giles street and headed past the small St. Mary Magdalen Anglican church and its small cemetery and the impressive Martyrs Memorial before stopping before St. Benet’s Hall.

St. Benet’s Hall didn’t appear (from the outside, at least) much changed from my month’s stay there in July 1991.  I could make out the great dining hall on the ground floor and the small classroom above with its comfy chairs and couches (on which I learned about Britain’s involvement in World War II for history credit).  Apparently, though, part of the building was now a B&B so no idea if it was still thriving.  It was always one of the smallest colleges of Oxford University.

Just down the street from St. Benet’s was The Eagle and Child or, as it is known to the locals and literature fans, The Bird and Babe.  Famous as a gathering place for J. R. R. Tolkien (Hobbit, Lord of the Rings) and C. S. Lewis (Chronicles of Narnia) it is crazy the literary history that happened within.  Today I’m sure it has lost some of its cred (run by a conglomerate of pubs as many in England now are, poked at by the movie “The World’s End”) but it was still neat to visit.  A bit of a winding route through connected rooms (with a few side rooms), comfy benches, pillows, art on the walls.  As it was packed when we arrived we sat in the farthest back room which unfortunately was a bit warm.  Michelle had the Nicholson’s Hunter Chicken, a chicken fillet with barbecue sauce with a side of fries, salad, and onion rings (which I inherited) and I had applewood macaroni and cheese with bacon (as they were out of what I really wanted — steak, mushroom, and ale pie).  Michelle’s was OK, mine a bit better than that.  At least the drink was free since we just used the complimentary pitchers in the hall leading to our dining room to get tap water.

Headed back out into the night, past a food truck and the Ashmolean Museum, and turned west through western Oxford and over Castle Mill Stream on Hythe Bridge Street.  We passed the spot where The King’s House once stood — the place where both King Richard I and King John (yeah, the Robin Hood kings) were born in 1157 and 1167, respectively.  Amazing.  We arrived at Oxford’s rail station shortly before 8p whereupon Michelle bought some water and we waited for a train to London.  The 8:06p was delayed (amusingly) after the 8:22p one — which we ended up taking.

It was a largely uneventful ride back (except Michelle “discovering” that the water she bought was actually fizzy water when it shot all over the place upon opening, drenching her), putting us in London just shy of 9:30p (so, it is SUPPOSED to be an hour — wish that guy had been up-front, would’ve saved us the 58 pounds we shelled out to go to Oxford).  We rode the Bakerloo to Oxford Circle, the Victoria to Pimlico, and walked the quarter mile or so up Belgrave to our hotel where we collapsed, somewhat defeated.

We woke up at our seemingly standard 6a and, with generous snooze pressing, actually got up at closer to 6:30a. Got our showers and went out to the breakfast area just outside of our room, which doubled as a bar at night and had a glass roof which allowed for copious light. While the buffet looked tasty we ended up just eating the breads — French bread, croissants, and chocolate-infused croissants. Michelle had a decent tea and I had an amazing cup of coffee — dark and flavorful, even with a decent volume of milk mixed in.

As we were not staying a second night in Bayeux but were going to Mont Saint-Michel via the hotel’s shuttle service we kept one of our backpacks and a paper bag containing snacks with the hotel for the day. While Michelle waited in the lobby I ducked outside to check on the weather (sunny but quite chilly, making me thankful we brought jackets) and was treated to the gorgeous sight of the morning sun bathing the spires of Bayeux Cathedral in a bright orange light.

Closer to 8:30a Michelle and I headed out to the plaza behind the hotel and waited for our shuttle. There was a large group heading out to do a full day D-Day tour but there were a few others waiting for the shuttle to Mont Saint-Michel (hereafter “MSM”). In short order our driver, Jean-Pierre, appeared and did a quick roll call. We were then escorted a short distance to our waiting van. Michelle and I climbed into the middle bench along with another guy. Three ladies occupied the rear and the front passenger was occupied by an older lady who had been a French teacher. He wanted her up front so he could talk with her during the 1h30m drive each way.

And how they did. Conversing in a mixture of English and French (mostly French) they chatted about the surrounding area, French and European politics, lamented the death of the baker and butcher in small towns, etc. I could follow along with the French pretty well but some was beyond me. I asked a question about the abbey (when it was constructed) and, while he answered (starting in the 800s), it was made clear that he wasn’t a guide but rather a driver. Okay then.

Traffic was fairly light as we drove first south of Bayeux through a pretty decent forest then a succession of tiny villages with stone buildings, a stone church, a small cemetery, and so forth. We skirted the larger town of St. Lo, flattened in World War II (unlike Bayeux, which was spared due to its mayor making it very clear that there were no Nazi defenders or weapons there).  Jean-Pierre mentioned that it was mating season for the deer and that the male’s grunt is almost primeval.  Apparently Steve Forbes’ son had a castle in the area and would fly balloons shaped like his castle, or bikes, etc.  We also saw some windmills (the large kind, not the quaint Dutch ones) and a few electric car charging stations.

The terrain was hillier than I expected it to be.  Eventually we descended into a flatter, marshier area and were treated to our first view of Mont Saint-Michelle, looming gray over the horizon.  We stopped a fair distance (five miles or more, I think) to get a few pictures and, as luck would have it, about twenty green old-school parachutes blossomed in the sky.  Apparently they were preparing for the feast day of Saint Michael (Saint-Michel) – Michaelmas – this upcoming Saturday.  So neat to have that happen by chance!

We drove the rest of the way to the parking lot of Mont Saint-Michel, some distance (a couple miles) from the actual site.  We were told to be back promptly at 1p, Michelle and I setting out to use the bathroom first before catching the free shuttle to the site.  The line was a bit long and the delay cut into our time but we made it to MSM about 10:45a or so after passing through an area of small hotels and art galleries and the newly constructed dam that has enabled MSM to be an island again as the silting has been halted.  After being shuttled we still had a moderate walk along the causeway which spans the distance to the island.  As the tide was on the low side there were interesting patterns left behind in the wet sand by the retreating water.  Shore birds flitted about and sheep grazed on sea grass on the few patches of land that were above the high tide land.

After entering the main gate we had a choice to make — go up via the ramparts (fewer people but more steps) or the main road (more people and fewer steps, but shopping opportunities for magnets and the like).  We ended up going the main road with the plan to possibly come down via the ramparts after I scouted a little bit and decided that, yeah, the ramparts path was a bit more strenuous.

The street was really neat as it was very narrow with the signs advertising shops nearly touching at points.  We stopped by a couple of stores for magnets and postcards.  Though crowded it wasn’t crushing as it was past the high season tourism-wise.  We walked east up a moderate slope then turned 180 degrees and walked west a very short distance to a small plaza with some nice views back at the sea and the causeway.  We continued up, this time via some steep steps with no handrails, to the abbey entrance.  Michelle and I were very happy that we brought the walking stick that we bought in Utah years ago.

Our shuttle fee included abbey entrance fee so we skipped the ticket desk and proceeded inside.  The first room had a series of display cases showing the evolution of building on the island from the 800s and the initial abbey to the present day.  A door on the far side led to a large open courtyard in front of the abbey proper with amazing views all around.

The inside of the abbey was simple but impressive.  Simple wooden benches and a similarly simple altar were the main features.  One of the chapels had a wooden ship model suspended in it.  Two nuns and a priest were preparing the 12:15p mass and a crowd started to assemble as we left, about noon.  As time was of the essence we decided to go back down the way we came, stopping along the way to get a chicken and cheese panini from one place for Michelle and a ham and cheese sandwich (delicious, the bread is sooooo good) for me at another place.  I also bought two eclairs — raspberry for Michelle, coffee for me — to enjoy later.

We left MSM and boarded the shuttle not knowing what time it was and afraid to look.  I mean, not like knowing would’ve made us any less late!  As the shuttle pulled away it was hard not to constantly look back in awe at the sight — pretty much like something straight out of a fairy tale.  After getting off the shuttle we walked the short distance to the parking lot and found the shuttle waiting.  Phew!  Only then we looked at the clock on our phone — 12:58p.  Close, though we weren’t the last ones to show up, they appeared very shortly thereafter.

We were short two as a husband and wife was staying on MSM for the evening, leaving just Michelle, myself, the retired French teacher, and two young ladies in the van with Jean-Pierre.  It was nice to have the extra room.  On the way home everyone but myself and Jean-Pierre slept.  Jean-Pierre and I talked about French politics and political history and his fear of Fascism spreading across Europe.  Where his broken English failed my broken French would step in and we were able to hold the conversation fairly well.  Amazing how quickly it came back after nearly thirty years!

The van pulled in to Place du Quebec at 2:40p, just a few minutes past schedule.  Michelle and I sat on a bench and enjoyed the cool air while I finished my sandwich and then we ate our eclairs.  Michelle wasn’t too fond of the raspberry one’s filling but I thoroughly enjoyed the coffee one.  After gathering our bag from the hotel (marked with chalk, which came off on my shirt) we headed to Bayeux Cathedral as it closed at 6p.  Adjacent to the cathedral was a massive tree — turns out it was a Liberty Tree, planted in 1797 and still thriving.  The buildings in the tree’s courtyard had once belonged to the Church but were confiscated during the Revolution.

We stepped into the cathedral and… wow.  It was amazing, the sheer volume of stained glass (or painted glass, or whatever).  We were there at a good time as well, as the light from the late afternoon sun bathed the cathedral in color.  The nave was particularly amazing, with an area of multiple colors, an area of bright red streaks on the stone, and my favorite — spiderwebs acting as a projector screen and capturing the colors of the window they were attached to.

Another neat splash of color on the cathedral floor was filtered through a wrought iron fence, leaving the swirling design of the fence in stark negative to the color.  There were also paintings of Saints on the ceiling and a beautiful lectern that was sculpted to be cloud-like.  A timeline of the Catholic Church from the earliest times on a succession of posters was also interesting.  Underneath the cathedral was an area with pillars that we could’ve gone into but we were short on time.

Stepping back into the daylight we walked over to the Bayeux Tapestry museum gift shop to buy a few things then stopped for a bite to eat at a small eatery adjacent to it.  Michelle had a cheese omelette and a hot chocolate and I had a cafe au lait.  The omelette didn’t impress but at least did help take the edge off her hunger.  The hot chocolate and cafe au lait were OK.  Posters for both anniversary celebrations of the landings as well as Medieval fairs decorated the walls — again with the embarrassment of riches tourism-wise!

After walking back into town to buy two bottled waters from Carrefour City we headed to the train station.  We stopped along the way and enjoyed the evening and watched a large crane working.  We arrived in time for the earlier train to Paris but sadly we didn’t have reservations for that one and had to linger for an additional hour until dusk and the 8p train.  While waiting I snacked on the strawberry “cookies” Michelle bought back at Paris Saint-Lazare.  Not great but I just needed something.  Unfortunately I was getting quite the sniffle and was feeling a bit off.  The train ride wasn’t great, particularly as — despite carefully choosing our seats to face forwards — Michelle and I had to sit facing backwards.  Not a big deal for me but Michelle, being susceptible to motion sickness, was not in a good place.

Finally arrived back in Paris shortly after 10:30p and walked across the street to Hotel Phileas, where we collapsed in short order, exhausted.

Our alarms (yes, alarms) were set for 6a but we didn’t roll out of bed until 6:30a.  Headed down for breakfast shortly after 7a and ate breakfast at Hotel Phileas.  It wasn’t bad at all — baguettes, cold cuts, jelly, eggs, chocolate croissants, etc.  On a scale from Holiday Inn Express (1) to Full English breakfast (10) I’d give it a solid 7, better than the typical Continental breakfast.  After returning to the room we napped for a few minutes before packing our two backpacks for our one-night stay in Bayeux.  We checked out of our room and handed our two suitcases to the hotel to keep in safe keeping until our return on Tuesday evening.

Michelle and I went to Gare Saint-Lazare across the street and waited for our train.  While waiting we bought a few snacks (some strawberry breakfast bars and chips) and I popped outside to take a couple pictures of the station’s exterior now that the weather was much more photogenic.  Eventually a platform was assigned for our train, 24.  Heading that way we encountered a large line that thankfully moved right along and we were seated with plenty of time to spare.  The train was nice, if a little warm, with nice padded seats and ample leg room.

We pulled out of Paris Saint-Lazare and were zipping along in short order.  Though Michelle slept most of the way and I nodded in and out we did see some neat things.  We saw a few neat skyscrapers, including one that had trees and green areas every ten floors or so.  Our route crossed the Seine a few times and also passed through a few forests (set aside as “wilderness areas”) — though the forests were minor compared to the sprawling mass of trees that is eastern North America it was still nice to see.  There were a succession of small towns each with a quaint church in addition to some farms / manors with protective walls.

We arrived in Caen in about two hours and Bayeux about a half hour after that.  In Caen we saw a train with the Normandy coat of arms — two yellow lions reposing on a red field — and in Bayeux I noticed the symbol for our train’s region, Basse-Normandie — the shape of the region itself represented as a Norman Longboat’s prow.  I had never noticed that it was shaped like that but now I can’t unsee it.  That is how you do graphic design, though it still doesn’t beat this absolute stunner from our trip in 2010.  As we were getting off the train we noticed a large group of elementary school students getting off the coach ahead of us — whew, dodged a bullet not being on that one.  Bayeux’s station being a tiny two-track affair we climbed some stairs to cross the tracks and descended on the Bayeux side and began the short walk into town.

The walk was very pleasant not only due to the near perfect photography weather of blue skies punctuated by puffy white clouds but also a variety of interesting buildings and pleasant gardens.  Downtown (downvillage?) itself was also very charming with narrow streets and interesting signage (seriously, why is this not a thing in the United States?).  We also saw Bayeux Cathedral’s towers dominating the town’s skyline.  It’s astonishing how much power it projects even now, can you imagine the effect it had during Medieval times?

We located our lodging for the night, the Churchill Hotel, and after a quick check-in went to our room to freshen up.  Not quite as nice a room as Hotel Phileas but not bad.  One unusual thing was a large 5 foot by 8 foot or so picture of Bayeux Cathedral hanging above the headboard of the bed.  We’d later discover it had a backlight.  Odd.  Anyhow, headed out after freshening up and walked around a bit in search of lunch.

We first walked out to the Place de Quebec behind the hotel before walking across the Aure River, the raison d’etre for the two thousand year old town.  We passed some souvenir shops, a creperie, an ice cream merchant, and some other small stores.  The ice cream store was adorned with the “bomber art” popular during World War II.  The whole town is an interesting mix tourist attraction-wise — on the one hand it’s a beautiful Medieval town with a mill, half-timber buildings, a cathedral, and the frickin’ Bayeux Tapestry; on the other hand it was the first town liberated by the Allies in 1944 and is the closest main town to the D-Day landing beaches.  An embarrassment of riches.

We turned south and walked along another street looking at restaurants (some fancy, many not-so-much) before settling on a small snack restaurant with crepes, burgers, hot dogs, paninis, etc.  Michelle had a ham and cheese (jambon et fromage) crepe while I had a ham, cheese, and egg (as Michelle’s but just add an oeuf) crepe.  We shared a generous portion of fries and a bottled water as well.  Afterwards we headed back to the room briefly then set out for the museum that has the Bayeux Tapestry on display.

It was a short walk through the Place de Quebec and along the Aure River to the brown stone building with a courtyard flying both the French and Norman flags.  We shelled out EUR 9.50 each for admission and got an audio guide that lead us through each of the 50+ sections of the tapestry (really an embroidery).  A brilliant move on their part as it kept us moving through the 220 foot length of the tapestry, first in one direction then around a sharp turn and back to nearly the original point.  It portrayed the saga of William, Duke of Normandy and Harold, King of England from 1064 through 1066.  In brief, King Edward of England sent Harold to inform William that William would be the heir to the throne.  William was in a war with Conan (yep), a duke in Normandy and Harold assisted him.  Harold then swore fealty to William and returned to England.  Upon Edward’s death in January 1066, however, Harold did not honor his oath and succeeded Edward.  This caused both Harald of Norway and William to march on Harold’s army.  Harold managed to defeat Harald but was unable to defeat William at Hastings in October 1066.

The Bayeux Tapestry shows these events in incredible detail, from William rescuing soldiers caught in quicksand to Harold swearing fealty with one hand on relics and the other on an altar to Halley’s comet appearing and being interpreted as an omen that Harold’s reign as King of England was doomed from the get-go.  Craftsmen fell trees and construct the fleet while arms, armor, and horses are assembled.  A feast where the common soldiers are using their kite shields as platters.  The landing party pillages in order to feed itself (and get a little rich, I’m sure) until Harold’s scouts see them.  Shortly thereafter the fourteen hour battle is engaged and depicted in gory detail — decapitations, slain horses, Harold taking an arrow to the eye, etc.  The main panels are not just pictures but also Latin text that narrate the whole affair.  Above and below the panels are much smaller (a few inches high each) depictions of various things — bodies strewn about as a result of the battle, fantastic creatures, victors stripping dead soldiers of their armor, and even an odd Adam and Eve vignette.  Odd.

Afterwards we waited about thirty minutes for a sixteen minute English film to begin.  It was decent though I must admit I slept through a wee bit of it.  We headed down to the first floor (American second) for the final part of the museum, several exhibits that showed how the tapestry was made (including the three plants that led to the ten colors found) and a discussion of the various theories as to who made it.  General consensus is that it was made in southern England (likely Cambridge) as the embroidered lettering matched that of earlier Anglo-Saxon work.  Compelling theories, however, exist for it being made in Normandy.

More remarkable (to me) than how it was made and by whom was that this nearly one thousand year old piece managed to survive to the present day.  For centuries it was displayed in Bayeux Cathedral for two to four weeks in the summer and placed in a chest the rest of the year — and somehow surviving two fires that ravaged the cathedral.  During the French Revolution it was used as a tarp for a weapons cart to be sent to Paris and was rescued at the last moment.  Additionally, there were even plans to cut it apart to decorate a parade float in the early 1800s.  Also on display was a replica boat similar to the ones the Normans used as well as weapons and armor and a couple of dioramas showing Norman castle building techniques (Motte and Bailey, etc.), the Tower of London, and an English Manor.  There was also a replica Domesday Book that was neat to see (the Domesday Book being a full accounting of all of the property in England ca. 1070s and the best record of an early Medieval kingdom.

By the time we stepped into the late afternoon air it had gotten quite chilly.  We swung by the Bayeux Mill with its water wheel and sluice gates and idyllic location then Bayeux Cathedral.  It is impossible to capture the enormity of a cathedral on camera, the best you can hope for are a couple of wide shots then trying to find interesting details or angles to take pictures of.  This one had interesting details and angles in spades — gargoyles (and wailing nuns!) as rain spouts, flying buttresses, a moss-covered roof, etc.  While I was just trying to soak it in and get interesting pictures with the interesting dusk light we were treated to the bells ringing the hour.  Very neat.

We walked back towards the hotel looking at restaurant menus but coming no closer to a decision.  We decided to eat at one of the smaller snack stands again but they all had closed.  The concierge at the hotel recommended La Table du Terroir (no, it isn’t “The Table of Terror”, though that’d be interesting!) but a short walk from the hotel.  We lucked out and were seated despite not having a reservation.  Michelle had chicken fillet done Normandy style (apple and mushroom sauce, lightly breaded) with a green salad and fries (they LOVE fries, even at fancy restaurants!) while I had the rib steak au poivre with fries and an onion soup (really French onion soup, but they drop the “French” part).  It was great!  For dessert Michelle had a lava cake with vanilla ice cream that she loved while I had two scoops of coffee ice cream that was decent — not the best but far, far from the worst.

Satisfied, we walked back to the hotel, stopping first at Carrefour City grocery for two bottled waters.  I blogged while Michelle slept, though sadly I couldn’t actually back up nor upload the blog due to abysmal upload speeds.  Grrrr!  Finally slept about 1a.

We awoke early, about 6:30a on Saturday, September 22nd, to pack for our trip later that day.  In what must be a first for me I actually had a full night’s sleep as I had already earlier in the week handled all of the photo prep work for the trip (mainly offloading photos, backing them up, cleaning off the cameras, and ensuring the Surface has sufficient room to hold the new photos to come).  Gathered stuff up and also completed a few tasks in the yard as well as letting our neighbors know that we’d be out of town.

Genetta arrived at shortly past 9a and the three of us (Addison having chosen to skip) went to breakfast at Gypsy’s Shiny Diner.  Service was prompt and the food delicious and we ended up getting out of there by 10:20a or so.  A quick stop by Best Buy to buy (yet another) charging brick for the phone and we were back home and packing frantically.  I had hoped to leave by 11:45a but it was about 12:15p before we finally hit the road, Genetta driving us to the airport for our 2:43p flight.

I needn’t have worried.  As we arrived I noticed that it had been delayed to 4:20p.  Now, I kind of expect that so I left a hefty three hours layover in Chicago to ensure we made the flight from there to Paris’ Charles de Gaulle airport.  The ticketing agent wasn’t sure, nor was the lady helping with the check-in kiosks, so we were referred to a customer service agent.  As our arrival and departure terminals and concourses were the same and the gates fairly near he decided it’d be better to stick with the current plan rather than re-route through Charlotte or Philadelphia.  I was on board with that as I didn’t want to lose the seats we had picked (and paid the upgrade for).

It was a tense couple of hours at RDU as the flight kept getting delayed later and later, apparently crew disruption due to a round of severe weather the day before in Dallas (from whence our plane was to come).  Finally the the internet showed that the flight had left DFW for an arrival slightly after 4:30 in RDU, with a subsequent departure at 5:10p.  As that wouldn’t arrive in Chicago until 6:36p and our flight left (not boarded) at 7:10p it was very tight.  As there were only 37 on the plane to Chicago (nearly everyone had already bailed to alternate flights) a quick board and de-plane (and quick flight due to a lighter load) made it seem possible.

The Super 80 we flew up to Chicago wasn’t in great shape but it did the trick.  They were plying us with snacks and drinks as there were so few of us on board — even the fancier first class treats made an appearance in economy!  As we were in the rear of the plane I was nervous about a delay in deplaning (even with only 37 on board).  The steward motioned us to the front of the plane (first class!) for the final 20 or so minutes of the flight.  I sat next to a nice lady from Chicago who was returning from participating in the Dragon Boat races in Cary.  We discussed our prior trips — she had just gotten back from Hong Kong in the last month and was leaving for Sydney on Monday.

Michelle and I deplaned quickly and walked the three gates from K8 to K5 whereupon we encountered final boarding for our flight to Paris.  Luckily there was still quite the line to board so we had just made it (though I did still have momentary panic when the screen showed “Boarding Completed, Plane Closed”)!  We had upgraded to the very last row, left side, of the plane as it was a) far from the bathrooms (in retrospect, maybe a little closer would have been good) and b) only two seats so Michelle and I didn’t have to share.  The legroom wasn’t great but it was just enough, especially with a little space between my seat and the bulkhead to stretch in.

Planes sure have come a long way since my first flight to Europe in 1988.  The Boeing 787 was really nice with ambient lighting, back-of-seat entertainment options, and these amazing windows.  They didn’t have a shade, rather a button let us choose the transparency of the window — from totally opaque to transparent.  It was amazing, practically magic.  The only thing more magical was flying 300+ people over an ocean in one night’s time — something that would take months and had a high chance of death only a couple centuries before.  Amazing.

As we took off from O’Hare I started getting excited (the worry of not making the flight now passed).  Still, it is a long flight (just over seven hours due to the tail wind) and we’d soon all settle in.  We flew across Michigan, southern Canada, just south of Ireland and Britain, then over Normandy to our destination.  Hitting an altitude of 39,000 feet and an external temperature of around -80F and speed of nearly 600mph.  Magic.  Michelle watched Avengers: Infinity War while I watched Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Deadpool 2, and some of Solo.  Bill & Ted’s was particularly appropriate as they kidnap both Napoleon and Joan of Arc for their report.  “Something strange is afoot at the Circle K”, indeed.  Dinner was OK, my entree was pasta with tomato sauce and Michelle’s was balsamic chicken with couscous.  Accompanying that was eh bread, decent Swiss cheese, a small garden salad, some crackers, and a sea salt caramel chocolate brownie thing that wasn’t too bad.

With about 1h30m left to go in our flight and the sun haven risen above the thick layer of clouds we were cruising over they served us breakfast — yogurt, some oats to mix in, dried berries, and a berry muffin top.  The muffin top didn’t suck, at least.  Landed just after 9a (an hour ahead of schedule) to a very wet Charles de Gaulle airport.  Passport control took awhile but that just meant our luggage was waiting for us on the carousel.  Yay!  Got into the line for the taxis just outside and in short order we were routed to the next available one.

During the drive of nearly an hour to our hotel the taxi driver and I talked about various things like his trip to America (New York, San Francisco, Las Vegas, and Los Angeles).  He remarked that we talked a bit fast for him to keep up, which was amusing because, as Southerners, we’re often said to talk too slowly.  His English was decent, better than my French at least, though we did lose the meaning of his conversation at one point — something about a dry cleaner in Australia not understanding him or something.

We also talked about the world of work in the US vs. France (spoiler alert: US works longer and takes far fewer vacation days) and he mentioned that young citizens in France have the option of receiving 800 euros a month rather than work (as France is struggling with having enough jobs due to automation — he mentioned a Mercedes factory just built in France that needed only a handful of people).  He felt it was a trap, though, as once on that list it kills your chances of getting a job down the road and while 800 euros a month may seem like a lot at eighteen years old it doesn’t hold up over time.

He had also severely injured his hand a month or so ago when a customer closed the trunk on his hand by accident — looked gruesome, even now.

The suburbs had transitioned to the beige stone rows of buildings characteristic of Paris and we were at our hotel, the Hotel Phileas on rue d’Amsterdamn, in short order.  Reception was very polite and efficient and actually got us in a room early (it being 11:30a and check-in being officially post-2p).  While we waited we briefly discussed the weather — apparently Paris used to have warm Septembers but now it was mainly rainy.  I mentioned Florence as well, which he had heard of.  They then took our luggage to the first floor (America’s second floor) where we waited in the breakfast area until the room was ready.  Hopped in the elevator for the sixth floor, room 66.  The room was nice and a bit bigger than we had expected.  We were momentarily confused by how to get the lights on but then remembered that Europe loves the “put your keycard in a receptacle when you enter” system.

We napped until about 3:30p as we were exhausted.  Headed downstairs and on the recommendation of reception headed for Le Certa, a restaurant not far away on rue de l’Isly.  It was pouring on the way, however, necessitating us to duck into the recessed entrances of closed (it being Sunday) businesses.  While it was a bummer that it was raining it was neat to see Paris in the rain and we didn’t have a busy day scheduled regardless.  We saw the train station, or gare that we’d be leaving from the next day — Gare Saint-Lazare.  Very neat building with a sculpture column of pocket watches in front.

Le Certa was cozy, with room for maybe 30 or 40.  It was set up for a Sunday buffet but we decided to order from the menu.  Michelle had a chicken Caesar salad that was very tasty and a generous portion — though I raised an eyebrow at the poached egg on top.  I had onglet de boeuf, a piece of undercut beef with fried onions on top with a garden salad and French fries (can’t they just call them fries here?).  It was excellent.  We saved room for desert and were grateful that we did.  We each had tarte fine aux pommes, basically a thin and very delicious pastry with many thinly sliced green apples layered upon it and a small (but great) scoop of vanilla on top.  It was served on a slate tile with some confectioner’s sugar and was wonderful.

Left Le Certa at about 4:30p and headed out to find a ATM.  We came upon a nice plaza, or place, then turned south toward the ATM but turned around as Michelle needed to return to the room.  We saw a barber shop with a weird cartoonish statue with the right half missing the skin and showing muscles and bones.  I really don’t know what point they were trying to get across with that, but I’d stay way clear of anyone wielding a straight razor in that shop!  On the way back we saw a theater, Theatre Mogador, hosting performances of the musical “Chicago” as well as a cinema that seemed rather lower-brow with some (for America) more risque movies.

A few things we noticed: Parisians love smoking, even now, I’ll never get used to the oooaaa oooaaa sound of European emergency sirens; and we saw many police cars and each had at least two officers in them.  Also there were lots of scooters, blades, and Segway type modes of transport.

Hung out at the room for awhile before heading back out for the ATM.  After going north a little bit (and seeing one of the advertising columns seen throughout Prais) we went through Gare Saint-Lazare to ensure there’d be no surprises in the morning.  Pretty standard European train station, complete with a throng of people craning their necks gazing at the departures board waiting to get the platform they need.  As the station was also a bus, Metro, etc. stop it had quite a few shops (50+) arranged in a three floor arcade.  One of the stores had bandes dessinees, a popular form of hardcover comics (often of a historical nature) found in Europe.  Exiting the station we walked to the ATM.  Across the street was an Au Printemps, a very large (multi-building, multi-block) Parisian department store.  On the way back we walked along a road parallel to ours which was little more than a cobblestone alley.  It had four or five Chinese restaurants along it and also a place called “Sandwich Grec” that I originally read as “Sandwich Greg”, haha.

Made it back to the hotel shortly after 7p and napped, offloaded pics, and blogged while Michelle watched some TV (including an episode of Lucifer translated into French) until finally going to bed shortly after midnight.