Last day!

Like I said I woke up at 9am today and headed down to breakfast. I did not eat nearly as much as I thought I would at breakfast, seeing as I didn’t eat dinner last night.
After breakfast I joined a group that was heading to the Louvre. It only cost 9 Euros which was very surprising. The museum was not nearly as busy as it was when I was here in 2004. We went to see the Venus De Milo and Mona Lisa which was fun. The museum was so hot! After we couldn’t stand the warm rooms anymore we moved outside and too pictures out by the glass pyramid.

We took our pictures in front of the pyramid and then went back to the metro and left for lunch. We all chose to have lunch at Pizza Di Roma. I am definitely tired of eating here. I can’t wait to come home and have some Ramen! I know it sounds crazy because there is supposed to be so much delicious in France, but I’m ready to go back to eating Ramen in my pajamas on the living room couch! After pizza I had Hagen Doz ice cream which was delicious.

We headed back to the hotel for the tour.

The tour today was really fun! It was a lot of walking but our tour guide was very interesting and he was so excited that I couldn’t help but be excited too. He was obviously American because he had no accent. He said he was originally from Sacramento, CA but moved to France five years ago. I laughed when he said that when he moved here he spoke only three words of French and not very well. He now speaks it fluently.

He took us around the various areas of WWII France, which was interesting because as Americans I don’t think we really think about what went on in France the day of the liberation. We know the liberation happened but we don’t’ know what really what went on in France.

The tour guide had so many great stories. One was about an American Pilot who was flying over France when it was controlled by the Nazis. There was a huge Nazi flag flying from the Eiffel Tower so the pilot decided to fly right under the tower! The guide said he’s told this story since he started as a guide and he once had the pilots granddaughter on his tour!

After the tour I headed back to the hotel with Jean. I stopped at the small supermarket to get dinner. I bought croissants, jelly, peanut butter, a small carton of orange juice, and a can of mandarin oranges (13 Euro!)

But let me tell you...I have never wanted a PB&J so much in my life. They were the most delicious PB&J ever. I think some good signs that I was ready to go home were:
1) I was excited to pack my suitcase and bag
2) I enjoyed sitting down and eating PB&J Croissants
3) I was so excited to find CNN (in ENGLISH) on TV and just sit and watch the news
4) It was amazing to just sit on the bed, eat my sandwiches, and watch the news with the window open (listening to the rain) and think about how nice it was to be dry and not out walking on the soaking wet streets of Paris.

Ready to go home!!!

(pictures coming soon)

First day in Paris!

Today was fun but busy. I hung out with a different group of people which was really nice. Today we went to listen to a famous journalist/photographer who was Pyle’s “tent mate” during WWII for a brief time.

]\He actually invited all 34 of us to his apartment in Paris! The apartment was in the back of a complex. We walked in through a big metal door, through a courtyard and up to what looked like a greenhouse in the back of the complex. It was his house!! It was so cute. He had folding chairs, plastic chairs, couches, armchairs, and dining room chairs spread all around for us to sit in.

Unfortunately the bulb on his projector/slide machine broke so we didn’t get to view his pictures while he talked, but it was still very interesting! He didn’t know Pyle very well but the little bit he told us was neat to hear. He said that the day he was leaving Pyle made it a point to say goodbye to him. He commented that Pyle seemed like an easy going guy.

What looked like an office in his apartment had big tables and desks lined with magazines. One wall was lined with different photography books. His coffee table was piled high with more magazines, photo books, and his personal books about his career.
We all had a very hard time staying awake not because he was boring but because we were all so very tired and his apartment was so warm!

After leaving I headed over to Notre Dame with my group. We ate lunch (another sandwich on yummy bread with no meat. It wasn’t very good for what I paid) then went and walked through Notre Dame.

After walking through we took tons of photos. Then we headed for the souvenir shops!! I bought a really pretty green Paris scarf with Eiffel Towers on it (it’ll be nice for the spring weather), a shot glass for matt, and a Paris travel bag! The bag is huge and will be great for lightening my suitcase on the way home. It’s going to stink carrying it around but it is totally worth not having to pay $50 for my big suitcase being overweight again. The bag was only 25 Euro so it was actually cheaper to buy the bag than pay to check my suitcase…hopefully I will keep it under 50 lbs.
After shopping we took the very confusing metro back to the hotel. The metro here is so much different than the Tube in London. It’s dirty, confusing, smelly, and full of graffiti.

Once back to the hotel I put on the most comfy clothes I had with me, closed the curtains, and crawled into bed! I was tired I just had to get some sleep.

So it’s Saturday right now and I just had to note that, other than waking up occasionally last night, I woke up at 9am this morning. I really needed some sleep I guess!

Pictures coming soon!

Mont Saint Michel and Off to Paris

Today we left Caen. It was a short stay but I got to see many different places.
About 2 hours after leaving Caen we arrived at Mont Saint Michel, which is an abbey right on the border of Normandy. It was absolutely breathtaking and beautiful! As we were driving along to road I had just woke up. I looked out the window and in the distance was what looked like a castle floating on an island in the middle of a lake. It truly looked like a fairytale castle.

We drove through a little town and when we turned the corner we were on a straight and narrow road driving directly for the big, stone island. As we got closer I could see that at the bottom were large castle walls. Rising above the walls on the island’s sloping hills were small houses that seemed to be stacked one on top of the other. Perched at the top was a large, beautiful church with its’ steeple outstretched towards heaven.

The tides were low so we drove down to the muddy bus parking on the side of the road. We all walked in together and everyone couldn’t stop staring up at the monastery and through the stone castle streets.


We met with our guide and started the slow, long, slanting climb towards the top. The man street was narrow and I could feel the worn, rounded stones beneath my feet. We walked by restaurants, crepe shops and souvenir stores. Up and up we went.
The rain was sprinkling on my head but I was so busy looking at everything, especially the steeple that we were slowly approaching, that I paid no attention to my wet hair.
After what seemed like forever we finally reached the monastery doors.

The guide told us that only 25 people could live year round on the island. Twelve of the people were monks and sisters and the other thirteen were mostly shop owners. I think that it would be so strange to live on an island in an old castle with only 24 other people. During busy times the guide said that Mont Saint Michel could have up to 10,000 visitors.

In all we walked through two chapels, saw the various sections that have been used as monk housing over the centuries, what used to be a dining hall, the location of the old cemetery, and the place where the monks worked. I think that my favorite thing we saw was the room that was used for guest banquets. This room had two huge fireplaces. I have included a picture of everyone standing in the fireplace to show how big it actually was.

I think that Mont Saint Michel was so interesting because of the first impression. It was absolutely amazing to look out the bus window and see it on the horizon. At first glance it appeared to be floating on the small bay just waiting for us.

After Mont Saint Michel we got back on the bus and traveled to Paris. It took us about five hours.

I have to say that I’m not ecstatic, like the rest of the group, to go to Paris. When I traveled to Europe in 2004 I wasn’t impressed. I think that it is mostly because there are so many other places we had been on that trip that I thought were so much more beautiful that Paris.

It’s nice to see the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, but most of the other places to visit are expensive designer shops and overpriced restaurants.
Tonight I paid 20 Euros for grilled chicken that wasn’t even seasoned, fries, and ice cream. That’s about $35 American dollars!!!! So I do believe I will be making a trek to the small grocery store down the street to buy bread and meat and cheese for my lunches while we’re here. I can’t shell out 40 Euros for two meals a day tomorrow and Saturday!

The Journalists Memorial

The last main stop we made on Wednesday was at the Journalists Memorial. The memorial was started in 1944 to commemorate the war correspondents that died in WWII. Ernie Pyle’s name was under the 1945 section on the first tall stone. The stones line a pristine pathway and go up to 2006. Some stones are completely covered front and back for just one year! Many of them are not war correspondents but just journalists killed while doing their job both in wartime and peacetime.



It was really cool to be able to see Pyle’s name on the stone. For me it was a very important part of the trip. I just think that it’s amazing that he was recognized for what he did and the fact that he died in the line of duty just like many of the soldiers did. He died on the frontline, in the fighting, with the men he wrote so passionately about. Ernie Pyle from little Dana, Indiana.

Here is a picture of me standing next to the stone with Pyle’s name.

The American Cemetary

On Wednesday we also visited the American Cemetery. I didn’t blog about it Wednesday night because I was completely worn out!!
I have to say that it was a good experience. Although I was a little surprised that I wasn’t emotional. There were some people that couldn’t stop crying…but I really didn’t feel anything. Don’t get me wrong I’m not saying that I was not speechless when I saw all the white crosses. I’m not saying that I was not stunned when I saw the long wall of the soldiers who were never found. And I’m not saying that I was not moved by the words of praise and thanks written on the monuments. I’m not saying any of those things…

But I feel the need to reiterate that I think that it is difficult for someone of my generation to feel emotional about something that I fully admit I will never be able to completely understand. I go back to the idea that I just can’t imagine what it was like.

I was amazed at the rows and rows and rows of white crosses. I tried to take time away from the group by walking a little behind and thinking to myself. I was a little frustrated at my lack of emotion but at the same time my reaction was what I had expected it would be.

I feel it is necessary that I also note the difference from the American Cemetery and the British Cemetery, which we visited later in the day. My eyes were teary and I was a little bit choked up at the smaller cemetery for British soldiers. On the bottom of each headstone there was a small quote of remembrance from the family of the dead soldier.

The only way I can think to describe it is that it really made it seem real. It made me think of this soldier and those he left behind. Some stones had words about his life as a soldier or sailor. Those made me think of what he did for his country.

One of my favorite stones read:
828101 Gunner
R.T. Dennison
53rd (Worcestershire Yeo.)
Airlanding Light Regt. R.A.
6th June 1944 Age 29
“No one knows how much I miss him or the heartache for the one I loved so”
I think that all the details about the soldier, R.T. Dennison really help to make it much more real. It is hard to describe what I’m trying to say. The fact that it lists his rank, what he did, and especially his age helps me picture what R.T. Dennison might have been like. The age alone really helps put it into perspective because I can think if my friends and family that are that age.

The reason I really liked this stone was because of the quote that, I’m guessing his wife, had engraved at the bottom. It really made me think much more about what it was like to lose someone in the war. It made me think of what Dennison had to sacrifice for his country and the one left behind.

I really believe that if the crosses at the American Cemetery were a bit more personalized with a quote like the British ones were it would have been more real for me.

I really hope that this makes sense.

I also really hope that you are not taking me the wrong way. I don’t want to sound like I am not grateful. I don’t want to sound like I am not sad by the many, many men (and a few women) that were buried in the American Cemetery.

I think that I must stress the fact that I quietly walked through the rows and rows of crosses by myself. The wind was whipping at my many layers of clothing and threatening to take my hat right off of my head. There were few other people in the cemetery at the time. I was reading the names and home states of the soldiers.

I did not cry.

I just thought.

I tried to think about what they gave and what it would be like if they had not sacrificed their lives. What would the world be like today if so many had not stepped up. It’s hard to imagine.

...more to come

It's getting late here. I will try to write more tomorrow if I have internet. I have to get up early so I should probably go to bed. Just to give you an idea....the post time on this will be the time back at home....here it is 1am.

Night!

I'll leave you with a picture...
Me standing next to the stone at the Journalists Memorial that has Ernie Pyle's name on it.

Omaha Beach--Normandy

Today we visited lots of different places! First we went to Omaha Beach which was very interesting. I first need to say that we did not, by any means, have enough time at this stop.



We only stayed for about 15 minutes. As the bus drove down the narrow street along the beach looking for a place to park I looked out the windows at the hills and houses. Our guide, Helen, pointed out that the houses with thatched roofs were the older ones. The white stucco houses were the newer more "fashionable" ones.

Helen showed us where the old concrete bunckers still stuck out of the hills above the beach. They were barely noticeable until she had the bus driver stop and she told us where to look.

Once the bus parked we walked down to the beach. It was very windy and my hair was blowing. I had to keep pulling my hat back on tighter! My feet, wet from crossing the small stream of water at the bottom of the stairs, sank into the squishy sand. I know
that it may not seem right to say, but the beach was beautiful. The white foamy waves were crashing onto the sand and rising up the beach. The sky was blue and the condensation was more of a mist from the sea than a rain. I separated from the group a little and walked along the breaking water.



I really wanted to try to think about what happened on the beach and imagine what it must have been like for those men.

I could not.

And I don't think anyone from my generation will be able to grasp what happened there.

I don't even think that anyone who wasn't there will ever be able to fully understand.

When I looked at the beach I saw beautiful brown soft sand. Small streams flowing across the sandy beach trying to reunite with the ocean. White waves. Blue water. Rising cliffs behind me and beautiful old, handmade houses.

I cannot imagine.

I cannot imagine the water filled with iron blockades and barbed wire. I cannot imagine the sound of German guns booming from the hills. I cannot imagine the battle ships and landing boats.

I most certainly cannot imagine the men desperately trying to find cover behind anything they could.

I cannot even begin to imagine...and I will not pretend that I stood on that beach and could think of how it must have felt...because I could not.