So Much Happened

Fresh Air.

I needed it. I'm getting more used to living an urban life, but I missed being able to see endless fields of grass. And houses, houses without one adjacent to the other. I also missed seeing Ocean. She seems to have a calming effect on me. 

I made it to the opposite coast of France and saw lots of historic landmarks in both Normandy and Brittany. We traveled in a bus this time so I was able to see 18th century houses, millions of cows, and so much of the sky.

The D-Day museum in Normandy, Mémorial de Caen, was a good and necessary brush up on WWII history before going to the beaches where attacks took place. I saw incredible raw footage from the American arrival to Omaha and Utah Beach, onto Germany-occupied France. American Airplanes flew overhead and bombs were dropped like rain. It got bloody, very quickly.
All the propaganda that seemed to be so convincing to soldiers was now transparent and deceiving to those who believed war made you a real man. There is nothing manly about surviving in a war zone, it is just violent.

Colleville Cemetery, American Cemetery in Normandy, US soil.

Here lie 9,300 soldiers who died in the "Fight for Freedom" in Normandy. 

After a moving memorial for all those who fought on the 6th of June, 1944, we sought out more history. I went onto Omaha Beach and explored the battle zone of Utah Beach. 

Omaha Beach, Normandy. Imagine thousands of more footsteps, 70 years ago.
 Ocean, I missed your vastness.  

Real happy to be here. 

On Utah Beach, everything was practically left as it was after being attacked. It was hard to photograph all the craters in the ground so what you see is only a glimpse of how many more there were behind me and to the right and left of me. 

Every thing in this area was destroyed after the war, but the people literally picked up the same stones off the ground and built the houses up again as closely as they could to how they used to be. 

Northern coast of France. Can you tell how temperamental the weather was being this day? 

We spent that night in St. Malo, a small town that is enclosed by a big stone wall in Brittany. We walked around it in the morning and it was the best way to welcome the day. 

Saint Malo, a sweet little town with delicious cider and lots of cobblestones.

The next day we visited Le Mont Saint Michel, an island from the year 708, that is stunning from miles away. Dating back to the 15th and 16th century, people went there to study medicine and astrology, and from that, many important manuscripts originated there. 

Saint Michel was the saint who decided if one would end up in heaven or hell once you died, therefore people made the pilgrimage to the island with all of its hardships and dangers to try to earn their place in heaven and show the saint their sacrifices. A religious pilgrimage like this was a very common Medieval belief and societal norm. 

I finally made it here!!! 

So Gothic, So Symmetrical. 

There is still a functioning Abbey at the very top. The monks used to eat in a big hall inside, and all you would hear would be the echoes of spoons clinking, no talking. I'm not sure if they are still this strict. 

I wish I had more time in every place that I visit, but it just means I'll be back again.