A Long Romance with France


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September 14th 2008
Published: September 27th 2008
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Hotel ModernaHotel ModernaHotel Moderna

Courtyard outside our room

A Long Romance with France



Once again we catch up our dynamic duo on a ferry across the English Channel on route to Cherbourg. A calm sea greeted us as we sailed from Portsmouth and watched as land slipped from view. We were on our way to France for a much anticipated portion of our journey. We were going to get the opportunity to see a lot more of the countryside than on our previous visit in January where we remained in Paris for New Years. As the research progressed, we recognized that renting a car seemed to be the best way to accomplish our goals.
The coastal hills slowly came into view as we neared our destination and our excitement grew. Our ship slowly cruised into the harbor past battered old fortifications and docked smoothly at the terminal. Off toward town we went to find lodging hoping that there would be a room at the suggested Hotel Moderna. We checked into their last room and breathed a sigh of relaxation before we headed out to explore.

Cherbourg is a somewhat interesting port town. However we decided to stay the next day to arrange the rental of an inexpensive
 Hotel Moderna Hotel Moderna Hotel Moderna

Our chambre in Cherbourg. Includes breakfast, whooopie!!
car. The next evening we had a car, a plan, and a delicious dinner at one of the portside restaurants. After a good nights rest we were off.

Next stop, D-Day beaches… With the sun shining between rain clouds, we navigated to Normandy with our first stop being Pont du Hoc, between Utah and Omaha beaches. It was a heavily fortified German gun position that was the primary target for the beginning of the invasion. Many of the fortifications, as well as the craters left from intensive shelling remain to this day. A very somber reminder of the sacrifices made there that day. As well as Pont du Hoc, we also visited the Musee Memorial 1944 Bataille de Normandie, an incredibly informative museum. On our way back West we made a visit to Omaha Beach, the site of the most brutal action on that 6th day of June in 1944. The beach itself is quite pretty and eerily quiet, with all the look and feel of a costal vacation getaway, still barely developed. The western end of the beach has the remains of one heavy gun placement under the memorial, and the last remaining pieces of the portable harbors
A day at the D-Day beachesA day at the D-Day beachesA day at the D-Day beaches

A view from Pointe Du Hoc.
called Mulberry Harbors an ingenious idea to get all the equipment ashore at a spot where no deep water harbor existed. It was time to be making tracks toward our next night’s accommodations.

We were headed south to see Mont St. Michel and on the way, a stop to admire the small medieval hill town of Coutances. In the town square at the top of the hill was the lofty 13th century Cathedral De Coutances. A very impressive example of a church built with a Norman Romanesque design, enhanced by the use of light hued limestone. We had considered staying here for the night however we decided to carry on and make our way closer to the Mont.

Pulling into Pontorson late in the evening all we found for hotels were ‘complet’ signs indicating that the town was full and finding lodgings for the night was going to be a difficult task. We began to consider camping. Luckily, an extremely friendly couple that owned one of the hotels recognized that we were in a bit of a pinch and mentioned to us that they had one room that had been reserved but had not yet been claimed. They
D-Day beachesD-Day beachesD-Day beaches

Pointe Du Hoc.
said, at eleven PM they would release the room to us if it still had not been accounted for, “but, if you find a room in the meantime take it”. That was the best lead we had on a room so far. Continuing our search, we took the turn toward Mont St. Michel and decided to check on the way and possibly see the cathedral lit at night. We found prices outrageously outside our budget or no vacancies; however the view of the lights on the Mont were more than worth the trip out there. At quarter to eleven, back we went to Pontorson, to check on our possibility of a room for the night. To our relief, the reservation had not since been fulfilled and so, happily, we took the room with enthusiastic gratitude and settled in for the night. What a relief…

Mont St. Michel is an idyllic sight, the only fortified abbey in Western and Northern France to have never fallen to the English hands, and a religious masterpiece built above tide flats that at the equinoxes are completely surrounded by water. We spent the day exploring the narrow cobbled streets, touring the abbey and sinking
Omaha BeachOmaha BeachOmaha Beach

'Bloody Omaha' as it's known to veterans.
our toes into the surrounding sand.

West along the Northern coast towards Bretagne (Brittany in English) we went, stopping at the quaint town of Cancale, famous for their oysters. 4000 tons a year of “prize” oysters are harvested from these shores; the freshest and cheapest way to enjoy them is shucked with lemon on the beach. It is a common sight to see the beaches lined with vacationers and locals alike devouring these delicacies fresh and recycling the shells right back onto the beach.

We passed through Saint Malo, containing an amazing walled city and the world’s highest tidal ranges, and on toward Dinard also known as Picasso beach due to his depiction of the popular blue and white striped tents covering the beach. We took in the views while savoring an ice cream and replenishing picnic supplies, before heading west along the “Emerald Coast”. We continued to hug the coastline ‘till the landscape turned to a beautiful rose pink granite known as “Cote de Granit Rose” or the Pink Granite Coast, where we took a short rest and a walk through the quiet tourist haven of charming rose cobblestone streets called Tregastel. After driving the rest of
Omaha BeachOmaha BeachOmaha Beach

Remains of a Mullberry Harbor.
the Granite coast we headed southwest and slightly inland where we arrived at Morlaix, where we inquired about accommodations and again found that all were “complet”. While there, we did see an amazing railroad viaduct built in 1863 towering above the town. It was built across the deep valley in which the town rests. Onward we traveled, heading south into the interior of Bretagne, a land of deep woods, caves, curios rock formations, mythology and legends of Bretagne’s past. Darkness fell and we were soon navigating very rural roads in dead of night with our destination as Huelgoat. We later found out that it’s pronounced nothing like it’s spelled.

Speaking of pronunciation, Breton is a language enjoying a rebirth and renewed respect. As well as bi-lingual signage the language is being taught openly again after the teaching of it in schools had been outlawed by the French aristocracy following the French revolution. Its linguistic roots lie in a Celtic language related to Cornish and Welsh and more distantly to Irish and Scottish Gaelic. Bretagne has retained its separate regional identity and language because of its isolation from the rest of France by impenetrable forest, until the birth of a more modern transport. Transport, like the swanky Citroen that we were navigating the dark back roads in, on route to “whey whoahd” (Huelgoat).

Some time around midnight, we wound our way into barely lit streets, up from the river valley we had been following. We passed an entrance into what looked to be the main square, backed up and made the turn. Spotting two pubs that still seemed to be open; we decided to inquire where there was likely to be a place to stay. That’s when we met the amiable bar owner Bob, who immediately had several ideas as to where there may be rooms and personally escorted to where they were located. Unfortunately, there were no rooms available that night. So, we asked about a good place to park for the night, to which Bob promptly offered a spot in his home. Since we were already open to the possibility of camping in the car, we politely declined and decided to partake in a pint or two of the famous Bretagne cider before going to the spot that he recommended, behind the town and near restroom facilities. Those ciders were delicious and dangerous, and the accommodations were cheap. We arose with the chilly dawn and headed back into town to find a bit of breakfast.

Poking around Heulgoat we discovered a grove of very unusual rock formations. One in particular, was called Devil’s grotto, into which we descended by way of a series of ladders to the bottom of a hollow created by water removing all the soil from between a pile of massive moss covered granite boulders. The area was very surreal, with other formations resembling enormous mushrooms and other fanciful shapes.

It was time to be moving on so we climbed into our trusty Citroen and headed south toward the southern Bretagne coast. We traveled through the coastal towns of Port Louis, St. Pierre Quiberon and Quiberon, hoping to stay the night in Carnac. Now used to the idea of how popular Bretagne is in summertime we decided to call upon the advice of the tourist information office before beginning our search for chambers (rooms). We received a list of apparent vacancies in our price range and headed out on foot to find one of our liking. To our dismay we discovered in the torrential downpour that Carnac was completely complet. Soaking wet he retreated back to our dry car and headed on to the next town of Ste-Anne-d’-Auray. Arriving in the center of town we located the TI to inquire about vacancies. Again… we found that the town was completely complet. However, this time a helpful woman at the TI asked if we had transportation (we did) and made a phone call to a B&B far outside of town which luckily had a room. After an interesting journey of route finding difficulties, and the acknowledgement of the “green car” that was mentioned to us in the broken English/French directions from the gentleman on the phone, we settled into a very cozy home “somewhere” for the night. Luck found us… just not in Carnac.

The next morning we drove back towards Carnac, to Old Carnac, to visit several groupings of stone megaliths called Neolithic Menhirs, Dolmens, Cromlechs, Tumuli and Cairns predating Stonehenge by about 100 years. There are over 3000 of these upright stones, most about thigh high, some much larger, erected between 5000 B.C. and 3500 B.C. some of which weigh 300 tons. There is no conclusive consensus as to why or how these structures came into existence. Like many ancient
CancaleCancaleCancale

Home to 4,000 tons of "prize oysters"
structures, left to the imagination, there are only theories perhaps: sun worship, a phallic fertility cult, representation of long forgotten divinity? Or perhaps they served some kind of sacred or religious purpose.

With ancient cultures digesting in our minds it was now time for a major change of absorption and scenery; chateau touring, proper wine tasting, and French cuisine to fill our bellies… Off to the Loire Valley we went. In a marathon day we covered many kilometers and soon found ourselves in open sunny grape country winding alongside the Loire River to our destination of Amboise. For the next four days we indulged our senses in fois gras, crepes, baguettes, roti de canard (roast duck), fromage, crème brule, and of course a plethora of vins to tease our pallets.
Chateaus: Amboise, Villandry, Langeais, Chambord, were all stellar works of culture, architecture, horticulture, and steeped in history. However, our favorite was unanimously Chateau Chenonceau with its delicious balance of artistic flair and subtle elegance. Imagine… dancing upon black and white checkered tiles the width of the river, surrounded by stunning views and adorned by 16th century renaissance chimneys at either end of the Gallery spanning the river Cher. During the First World War the owner installed, at his own expense, a hospital whose different services occupied all the rooms. During the Second World War, many people took advantage of the privileged location of the gallery, whose southern door provided access to the free zone, whilst the chateaus entrance was in the occupied zone. In addition to being rich in beauty and history, Chenonceau is one of the few Chateaus that have its own vineyard. The wine is delectable, and really, really, really, good with cheese. Chateau Villandry deserves a mention specifically for its multiple labyrinths of gardens: terraced hedges of the ornamental gardens, fragrant breezes of the herb garden, gardens dedicated to love in all of its stages, water and a kitchen garden filled to the brim with plump fruits and veggies. The overall view is an incredible compilation of complex geometry, a riot of color and in complete harmony with nature and stone.

With our senses happily satiated there was yet one more revelation to experience. A call to long time family friends Heather and Ken revealed that we would be visiting them in Charente, not for only an hour but for several days! So we packed up our silver Citroen and headed southeast. Early evening, one day ahead of schedule we arrived in Cognac, about 20 km. west of Vibrac, where Heather and Ken are spending the summer remodeling their 15th century castle. Before booking a room for the night we phoned Heather to let her know of our whereabouts. She insisted we come over being that it was still relatively early and so close… and so we drove, and drove, and drove… The thing about France is, if French is not your native tongue, the spelling can seem completely foreign to the pronunciation. To make a long story short, somewhere about 11:00 PM we were hopelessly lost, and by the grace of god found a phone booth in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, on the second attempt we reached our devoted friends. Together on the phone we determined our whereabouts and arranged a meeting point. Finally by nearly midnight we entered the noble French red gates of their castle home. WOW! After hugs all around, Ken poured us champagne and we set out on the full tour. After chatting for hours we all nestled down into our modern comfort beds, surrounded by 15th century ambiance.
DinardDinardDinard

Picasso beach
The next three days were a blur of fantastic company, Heather’s delectable cuisine, meeting the charming generous neighbors, sampling some amazing wines, cognac, delicious homemade Peneau (a mix of Cognac and unfermented grape juice), and touring the local towns with Heather and Ken and niece Harriet. Such an amazing time was had. We enjoyed so much our time there, laughing, eating, dreaming, talking about traveling and listening to stories about Heather and Ken’s travels that when it was time to go our hearts ached for more time. We bid our dear friends a tearful farewell and piloted our trusty car down the idyllic country drive onward towards Chamonix, which would take at least two days to complete.

The night before leaving the castle, we had all hovered over the map of France reminiscing about Heather and Ken’s trip through France while they were house shopping as well as brainstorming on the most scenic and efficient route for us to follow…

Our route was determined. First stop, the medieval village of St. Emillion perched above vineyards and renowned for producing full-bodied reds, just west of Bordeaux. Here we enjoyed a light lunch that complimented the local wine while
TregastalTregastalTregastal

Cote de Granit Rose
soaking up the scenery. Thereafter, acting on Heather’s suggestion we drove along the breathtaking Dordogne River and through the beautiful medieval town of Sarlat de Canadas in the heart of the Dordogne region. As we pulled away from Sarlat we watched the dramatic change in scenery manifest before our eyes, from rolling vineyards to the foothills of the Alps. In effort to save time we hopped on the express toll road, zooming across the country deeper into the hills we drove, until we could drive no more. We then stopped for the night in Clermont Ferrand, a city en route.

After breakfast the following morning we stopped at an enormous super store to complete a few quick errands. As things don’t always go as planned, such was our experience of waiting five hours to burn two photo cards onto DVDs, which we were told would take an hour. Back on the road, finally, around four PM, we once more chose the fast toll road heading deeper into the mountains to reach our goal for the night, Annecy.

Annecy is a bustling town, crisscrossed by ancient canals, Geranium-covered bridges, lakeside parks, medieval buildings, all nestled in a basin below high alpine peaks. We spent a couple hours meandering along the canals, and marveling at the scenery before climbing to our final destination of Chamonix.

The road began to ascend steeply between jagged snow topped peaks into the core of the Alps and an alpine wonderland. Our hearts were racing as we pulled into this picturesque mountain village, the birthplace of mountaineering and the home of the first winter Olympic Games. Having learned our lessons about lodging in peak season France, we went straight to the Tourist Information Booth in town center. Once again, they were incredibly friendly and helpful, finding us a beautiful room in a chalet two minutes walk from the center of town. There was even a view of Mont Blanc from our bedroom window and balcony. The following morning we took care of business, returned our rented car which we had grown attached to, booked train tickets for the next leg of our journey to Hungary, and decided on and purchased a deluxe cable car pass that would allow us full access to the trams and trains for a whole day of sightseeing pleasures. Our time there was magical to say the least. We
HuelgoatHuelgoatHuelgoat

Pronounced “whey whoahd”
indulged in gourmet food, wine, and the inspiring international flair of this mountain haven; reveling in the summer atmosphere and dreaming about what it was like in the dead of winter buried in snow. During our stay Justice’s birthday arrived, having spent John’s birthday in Paris in January, we felt it fitting to postpone our departure one day to spend hers in France as well. It was a spectacular day including: a cable car journey to Aiguille du Midi (3842 m) to bask in the most stupendous view of Mont Blanc and its glaciers, a train ride up to Mer de Glace to view the “Sea of Ice” glacier winding its way down the valley, a fantastic one and a half hour hike back down into town for more exploring, a feast at the riverside restaurant “Atmosphere”, then topping off the evening with a movie in English at the local Cineplex. What a dream come true our time there had been. Absolutely a place we plan to revisit, next time in winter for some serious snowboarding. Chamonix has been one of the highlights of our travels so far. Definitely a fitting grand finale for our time in France!

Regardless of our reluctance to leave France and all its romance and beauty, Hungary was calling and we were bound to answer. The morning of our departure began with breakfast at the chalet, followed by a lazy day sitting in cafes, lunching, reading our books, last minute shopping and killing time until our late afternoon train. Collecting our bags we walked through town for the last time and caught our train. The first of six trains we would eventually catch to take us to Budapest. The first train exited France through a high pass into Switzerland through an alpine valley studded with towns and hamlets clinging to the steep sides of the mountains, then down an incredibly steep track into a broad picturesque valley. The scenery on that ride was completely world class. We transferred trains again and zoomed off along the valley and alongside and amazing lake as the blazing amber sun set across its surface. One more transfer had us climbing through vineyards as the last light of the day faded into the oncoming night. In Zurich, we finally boarded the sleeper train which would carry us through the night all the way to Budapest. The rest of Switzerland and all of Austria sped by under cover of darkness as we slumbered, carried onward to a new day, a new country and new adventures.

Once again we come to the end of another chapter of ‘Where Are They Now’. So stay tuned boys and girls to find out what exciting discoveries the new day will bring to our intrepid travelers. Does the Dynamic duo spend for a luxury hotel, scrimp and stay in a college dorm room unused for the summer or do they find a hidden gem in the depths of the city? Find out what amazing new discoveries lay waiting in the former Soviet Eastern Block country and historic home of the proud Hungarian empire… Same travel blog, same travel time…

We love you all…




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Our B&B ... somewhere...Our B&B ... somewhere...
Our B&B ... somewhere...

Actually named Chambres D'Hotes and it was located near Plumergat.
Our trusty Citroen!!!Our trusty Citroen!!!
Our trusty Citroen!!!

Runnin' on Deisel


27th September 2008

WOW
I am forever envious! What an amazing life experience for the two of you. Keep sending the blogs! Lindy

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