Brittany and Normandy, Under the Fog

Saint-Malo

            For this weekend’s excursion, we headed north to Brittany and Normandy, stopping at Saint-Malo and then at Mont-Saint-Michel. Bombed numerous times by numerous nations in World War II, Saint-Malo is a walled city that, on Saturday, was enveloped in fog. Looking out towards the sea, the view from the top of the wall was of 300 meters of rock, sand and water and beyond, nothingness.  The city itself is not without its virtues, however. It is known for (not necessarily in this order) its ice cream, socks, crepes, and seafood. Therefore the best part of this stop was not the view, but a lovely Crêpe Tatin, which is a crêpe, folded over applesauce, topped with rich vanilla ice cream and caramelized apples flambéed in Calvados.

            Back on the bus (as we felt slightly sick after copious amounts of sugary, starchy food), the Director of CIDEF treated our group to a running commentary on our surroundings. This included whistles, trills, the occasional dry English translation (“leeks,” for example), and many other sound effects. At one point, we passed through the town of Fougeres, formerly known for its crystal, which was pointed out with a melodious “ting” that lasted for several minutes (I assume they must have made very pure crystal).

Mont Saint Michel

             The approach to Mont Saint Michel is rather bleak -- long stretches of coastal farmland, and then the road jutting out into the sea. In the past, water would have flooded the pathway with the tides, but today, dikes allow vehicles to pass and park at all hours. Above dozens of cars and tour buses, the ancient abbey and its surrounding community make soaring steps skyward, until the Archangel Michael on the highest steeple is almost invisible through the fog. With construction beginning in the 700s, I expect Mont Saint Michel will be one of the oldest structures I will see in France.

The abbey church
~Every stone a different color,
each and all in tones of water

            Throughout the centuries, Mont Saint Michel has functioned as an abbey, fortress and a prison. Now, as souvenir shops and hot dog vendors encroach on its foundations, it has become a tourist hot spot. Glad as I am to have seen it, I’m also a little embarrassed to have photographed and gawked my way through such an old religious site. Still, there is some unshakeable silence there, something that comes from being far away from shore and high above the water. Each room in the abbey is designed for prayer and contemplation. The abbey church has a lofty interior, with graceful arches and high windows, which light the hundreds of subtle shades of blue in the stone. The cloister was one of my other favorite spaces, with arched walkways blooming with stone flowers and foliage, and views of their small garden and the sea. 

The cloister

            Passing back through the gate at the base of Mont Saint Michel, the mist had released its hold on the abbey, and everything seemed a bit closer to the earth. It wasn’t hard to imagine that people would make pilgrimages and brave the tides to visit this place, an island and a fortress, for contemplation, silence, and the wonder of it all.