Things did not go exactly as planned. I did leave Paris at the crack of dawn. I did see lots of war sites and feel way, way more than patriotic. I did eat some oysters and they made me want to vomit. I did stalk David Sedaris but he was nowhere to be found.
Here's how it all went down:
I left Paris before the crack of dawn. After sprinting, literally, sprinting to the metro and sprinting up the stairs I arrive at the metro to watch the doors close in my face and about 10 Frenchies stare at me with no attempts to help. Thrilling. And so, I was of course late for the bus. And of course, our activities director gave me a look of frustration for always being late. I think he's going to start telling me to be places half an hour before everyone else.
Anyway, I got to the bus and we left Paris. After a few hours of driving we made it to our first stop, the World War II museum. I've been to quite a few Holocaust museums in my day, I've been to the WWII monument in DC, I've watched Pearl Harbor for goodness sakes. However, nothing prepared me for the intensity of that museum and the intensity of the movie they showed us. We saw live footage of the attack on Normandy and watched as man after man of Americans, Canadians, and British fell down from German fire. Then we read letters written the day before the invasion from soldiers who died in the invasion. Then we saw a million other really, really sad things.
Then we got back on the bus. As we drove, I tried to sleep until I heard someone yelling "Alice! Michigan!" I rousted myself up kind of grumpily at my disturbed slumber and looked out the window to where they were pointing. There, in all its glory, was a giant store with MICHIGAN written in big letters. I have no idea what said store was. It looked like a jiffy lube. But we kept passing them everywhere we went. Tres bizarre.
Next we went to one of the British landing beaches called Mulberry Harbour on Juno Beach. The British came in the middle of the night and set up wave breakers and temporary docks for boats to come in to and then in the morning dropped off hundreds of soldiers. Intense.
Then we went to the American cemetery where grave after grave after grave overlooked, I think, the Utah and Omaha beaches where American battalions landed on D-Day
. I really have no words to describe how intense of a place it was. I can tell you I was twenty minutes late getting back to the bus because I got so lost in taking it all in. There was also a quote on the chapel there that read: "These endured all and gave all that justice among nations might prevail and that mankind might enjoy freedom and inherit peace." That phrase still has not left my mind. I felt so patriotic standing there it almost made me want to throw up a little in my mouth because now being that patriotic in America means something I can't relate to at all. The idea of inheriting peace was so deeply saddening because people really believed WWII would be the war to end all wars and look at us now. I wonder if it will ever be possible for a generation to inherit peace.And then, we went to the German bunkers at Point-du-Hoc. Frankly, it really gave me the creeps and I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. This is where I think both Americans and British landed only due to a navigational error landed three miles away thus losing the element of surprise, quite the navigational error I would say. Soldiers there had to scale cliffs as the Germans cut ropes and shot at the Allied soldiers. Allegedly there are unexploded bombs still on the cliffs and it was all fenced off with barbed wire. Tres intense.
Finally we drove another two hours to a town called Saint Malo which was really beautiful. There I ate huitres, oysters, which are supposed to be this delectable treat in Normandy. It tasted like eating rubbery ocean water. I am used to eating canned oysters on triscuits on the beach in North Carolina. Some people think that is disgusting. I say the fresh oysters are disgusting.
The next day we wandered Saint Malo which is an old city surrounded by ramparts. It was lovely but that's pretty much all it entails. Then we went to a place called Mont Saint Michel. Now, I went to a place called Mount Saint Michael's in England and this is supposed to be the equivalent. Not the same. Mt St. Michael's you can walk out to during low tide. Mt. St. Michel is surrounded by quicksand during low tide so you have to drive. Part of me wanted to test out the quicksand theory but the smarter part of me decided against it. We wen
t on a lovely tour of the monastery and climbed a bazillion stairs (luckily, stair climbing is my specialty). During part of the tour the guide told us that the monastery used to have thousands of books but they were destroyed by Allied forces in the war. She said this with such bitterness at the Allied forces that in all my patriotic glory I wanted to yell, "At least you're not giving us this tour in German!" But I resisted.After this we got back on the bus for a 5 hour journey back to Paris. We were told there would be no bathroom stops but after lots of water and coca light drinking, the better half of the bus had to pee. In fear, no one wanted to request the stop. Knowing, though, that the activities coordinator already though low of me for my constant tardiness, I braved his wrath and requested the stop. We landed in the most amazing convenience gas stop I have ever seen. If you are at all familiar with the rest stops on the Ohio turnpike, imagine those, times 10. It was glorious.
And then we arrived back in Paris, I metroed my pretty little self home and got ready for a week of classes in a new and improved, lower French class. Read more about this in the thrilling next edition of my blog. Which, I promise, will have no sadness, unless you count my inability to communicate above the level of a two year old.
Oh, and despite my many attempts to see David Sedaris from the bus, I had no luck. :(
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