"as welcome as a turd in a swimming pool"

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That quote came up three times on the D-Day tour - it was our guide Dale's general comment on how "welcome" the "unwelcome" are. But again - I get ahead of myself...

This may be the biggest cheater entry do date - as well as the longest. Grab a cup of coffee or a mug of tea and settle in folks, it's been a gong show since the interweb and I were last connected.

Thursday - Woke up bright and early to the realization that I had some serious decision-making to do. Fluttered around the internet for a while before finally reaching for the stars - to the amusement of Justin (the Aussie sitting across the table from me doing the same thing), I had a mini spaz when I booked Barcelona. What? I'm going to Spain?!?! Spain was not on the list, well - it's on the BIG list, but not the "Nicky's summer 2008" list. Ah well, sometimes you just have to commit to these sorts of things and go from there. Doesn't make the panic feeling go away - you have to quiet that one with a pint of beer or a glass or two of red wine. I also managed to call Bayeux to book a hostel there and make reservations on Battlebus Tours' Juno Beach adventure for Saturday. Decisions abound! Decisions abound!
Exhausted from the future I showered and headed out to the Catacombs. There are 6 million dead buried in those tunnels alone beneath the busy Paris streets. It was a fascinating adventure - about a 45 minute walk along 8 winding blocks of tunnels, left-over prison cells and finally the necropolis. I braved the walk despite all the warnings of "132 stairs down and 85 stairs up - please be sure you can handle this challenge" posted on the way in. I was fine, Paris is the city of stairs and I was managing to do quite well thank you very much. After the depressing and somber I was off to the artistic - l'Opéra National de Paris. A beautiful Neo-Baroque building, I wandered in to find out information about shows only to be told there was one that evening - a modern opera called Melancholia composed by Georg Friedrich Haas after a book by a favourite playwright of mine, Jon Fosse. It had been commissioned by the National opera and was playing tonight. As a student I could sit in a line up and wait until 15 minutes before the show started to be sold "remainder" tickets for 15€. I wound up sitting in the Orchestra (on the floor) in a 250€ seat! Before the show began, another traveler sat down beside me - he was from Transylvania and we had a great chat about opera and modern opera. I also met two gentlemen from Philadelphia who were excited to chat with someone in English. The opera was VERY modern, only an hour and a half long - and definitely NOT for everyone. About a third of the audience walked out - but I adored every minute of it. At the end of the show the two Americans came back for an explanation (having not read anything before coming) about what happened. We chatted some more and they posed for a picture with me - when Romania moved away they gave "my husband" a hard time for being shy. Sure... My husband... I didn't argue and wished them a good night.

Friday - One of my favourite things about Paris trains? Well, depending on the day of the week at least one of the stations is bogged down in "une dispute sociale" (social dispute) - READ: strike. It was some of the most entertaining announcements I've heard in a long time. A long series of apologies for the distruption of service that came over the loud speaker in 10 minute intervals. The downside to the trains? There is not a lot of information that is posted ahead of time. Everyone winds up standing scattered around the entrance staring up at the screens waiting for the track number to be posted - about 5 minutes before departure the information goes up and everyone makes a mad dash for their train. In comparison to the German way of running things, this was a logistical nightmare. Managed to make it to Bayeux in one piece, just in time for the sky to open up.
Now - Bayeux is a small town on the Normandy beaches. There are virtually no maps available of the town and it's the first place I've been on this trip where I couldn't even find north. Assuming it couldn't be that bad of a walk I headed out towards town in hopes of crashing into a sign or two that would guide me towards the hostel. Twenty minutes later I was in the "heart" of the town and realized that two things were declared unnecessary: 1) street names (of the 15 streets in Bayeux, 6 have names) and 2) signs. One arrow from the highway is enough to make someone find their way, of course it is. After stopping to ask for directions three times, and also trying to take a moment's rest from the down pour - I managed to track down the building I was looking for. Wandered into the Auberge and crashed into Liam (Irish) and Emily (American) who had driven in from Paris - it was 3:30 and they had called the owner earlier that day to say they would be arriving at 3pm. The place was empty - the doors wide open everywhere and no one to be found. We sat and waited until 4:30pm when the cook arrived. He informed us that the Madame is 73 years old and currently sleeping - if we could come back in a hour she would be able to help us out. We had a beer and came back and hour later only to wind up sitting until 6pm before she finally came down to help us. Now, despite the fact that we'd all called ahead of time there was no room for us - we had to go out to "Les Sablons"; the other Auberge on the outside edge of town. We paid for our nights and asked for the key, "key? What key? There's no key, no key..." And she was gone. We drove around for an hour before finding the GIANT house, which is broken up into bedrooms that are Disney themed and for children ranging anywhere from 5-12 - in the middle of nowhere. Sure enough the doors were wide open and the place deserted. The TV worked, so we went off to find food and beer to camp out in front of the Euro 2008 games with. When we returned the party had grown by 9 - there were now 12 of us in this giant place. One other Canadian (Vancouver), 2 American girls traveling together, 1 solo American, 2 Greeks, 2 Italians and a German. Between us French seemed to be the most common language - except for the Americans and the other Canadian - I spent most of the night playing translator - but in the end it all worked out. We pulled out mattresses and camped out on the floor together, having a grand ole time in the middle of nowhere.

Saturday - Liam and Emily dropped me off somewhere in the middle of town with my giant pack and no idea as to where I was supposed to be meeting my tour. Frustrating moment number 1? The rubber tip of my cane broke - making my walking aid useless. Strapped it to the bag and continued onwards. Now, the tour was leaving from la Place de Québec, somewhere the locals don't even know about. I was terrified of being late as I ran around from random person to random person getting half hearted directions and a vague wave from most people. Managed to make it there on time - Dale our Brit guide was able to toss my giant pack into the back of the mini-bus and we were off on an incredible adventure. The Canadian Juno tour was one of (if not the best) experience thus far. The tour is one of the only ones which continues inland from the beaches - in 8 hours we covered: Juno Beach, QORC House, St. Aubin sur Mer, the Juno Centre, Beny sur Mer Cemetery, the route inland taken on the Western coast including the major battle sites with the SS (such as Anisy, Villions les Buissons, Buron, and Authie), l'Abbaye d’Ardenne, Bretteville L’Orgueilleuse, and Le Mesnil-Patry. The only place I didn't have a chance to visit was the German cemetery - but beyond that it was an incredible informational and inspirational adventure; even for someone like me who has read far too much about the Canadians on D-Day. It was incredible, I don't have the words to talk about it all in detail and do it justice - but wow. Wow, wow, wow... You have to go - there's no way around it. The tour is small, there were only 6 of us together and it made things personal. I met a lovely mother daughter couple from Ottawa, the Carrs who I will be keeping in touch with.
At the Juno Centre I discovered that the staff is all Canadian students. They were thrilled that I was bilingual and from Alberta and passed along the information for employment there next summer. I will most definitely be looking into that when I find a quiet moment. 😊
Everyone raves about the beauty of Prague, and I can't argue with them. However, I think I will pass the title of most beautiful city on to Bayeux. There was something magical about the combination of old and new buildings in the Normandy area - a true treasure for anyone who has the chance to make it out there.
I headed back to the hostel in the centre of town to find there was room for me. I was sharing space with two American groups; one group of 15 kids from Boston (aged 11-12) and the other from Iowa (20 high school students). The French professor of the Boston kids was quick to take me under her wing and invite me in to dinner with them. I had a great night drinking wine with the parent-chaperones and eating a free, home cooked meal. I met up with Liam again and we said our goodbyes before I headed off to bed in a room all to myself! There were four other beds in the space but I was the only one up there! PRIVACY AT LAST!!! It was a joy to fall asleep not having to worry about much of anything.

Sunday - Getting to Bayeux, not a problem. Getting out of Bayeux? Good Luck. Being a strong Catholic community, everything is closed Sunday - and I mean everything. The ticket window at the train station was open for three hours in the afternoon, I just happened to be lucky enough to catch someone there. Booked a couchette for a night train out of Paris to Barcelona that night and chocked a bit at the steep price. It's a "hotel-train" and even with my rail pass it cost me 70€ for a bed; all the reclining chairs (still 50€ a pop) had been reserved already. I mumbled and grumbled about that for a while, and collected lost Americans at the train station over the next few hours while waiting for one of two trains that day out of Bayeux. A lot of the "orphans" were young girls (well 19, 20 - but they still made me feel like a grandma) who spoke no French at all. I chased away some boys for one set, got another two a train schedule and managed to get the another set seats on the train. They were sweet and eternally grateful, following me around the rest of the day. I only wish they'd been grateful with their wallets too... 😉 Met another Canuck from TO on the train from Caen to Paris and we chatted for most of the ride. I miss that dark sense of humour we all share, it doesn't come across the same way in any other language or culture over here. Except maybe the Brits, but Dale (the tour guide) was the only one I've encountered on my adventure thus far. The girls headed with us to Paris were talking about how often they called home, at least once every 2 days or so to chat with mom and dad about how things were going. Guilt started to set in when I realized I had been on the road almost 5 weeks and hadn't made a single phone call back home. Made it to the departure train station (on the other side of Paris of course) and made a phone call to Mom and one to Dad. Happy Belated Father's day! Good luck with the insurance jerk!
Now - going to Barcelona sounded like a grand ole adventure. I also realized that despite my concerns of the price of the ticket, it just paid for my rail pass. The total cost of my bunk in a 4 person room? 550€ Wow... Ouch... The catch? It's a 12 hour train ride... Neat. The ride was okay - the beds came down early and I managed to catch some snippets of sleep.

Monday - All that to say that I am here, safe and sound in Barcelona. I bought a new cable for the camera and will be adding more pictures soon! Otherwise I'm on a mission to fix my cane and should probably take the time to figure out how I am getting out of here. Adventures abound I tell you! Adventures abound!

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