An Abbey with a View
. And then we arrived and disembarked and smelled the salt air on a wonderfully clear and sunny blue sky day of 21 Centigrade.
The road steeply uphill to the Abbey is filled with ticky tacky souvenir shops and fair to middling eateries. The steps to the Abbey are numerous, over 300 and that is after the uphill walk. And the view from the top is
And there was Pierre! And he was creating the most delicious bites using Philly cream cheese and caviar and truffles and caramel and berries and melon and jamon and it was beautiful and it was Gratuit - free! And it was delicious.
Although not on our agenda for Paris, we could not ignore everyone who implored us to see Mont St. Michel. So out went a day trip to Fountainblue and in went a trip to Normandy's unique island Abbey. If you are not familiar with this architectural wonder, years ago, make that ten centuries ago, there was an Abbey built at the very top of a rock island, off the Normandy coast. At the time the only way to get to the island was to boat there, or walk across at low tide and wait until the next low tide to return to the Mainland. The quicksand was perilous but worth the crossing and the pilgrims came in droves. The tides are reminiscent of the Bay of Fundy where the water can change 50' from low to high, or at least it used to.
(Above is professional photo - I couldn't get a helicopter on short notice...Steve)
Then they built the causeway, then the tourists came, then the souvenir shops opened, then the causeway stopped the water and built up the silt and now even at high tide, there remains sand and quicksand to walk on. And it takes almost five hours by tour bus to get there and five more to get back and you only have about three and a half hours on the island. Sound enticing? Steve didn't think so either but I found a great tour deal (only 110 Euros each for a bus ride, a bargain, non?), I vowed never to say I wanted to do an entire week in Normandy, and I touted the ride as a day of relaxation and catching up on reading. It was almost refreshing to have to get up before 6am and quickly get ready to leave the house as I was beginning to get concerned I had totally lost this skill which I had perfected in years of commuting to Harleysville at 5:45 am.
The bus ride turned out to be beautiful as we rolled through the Norman countryside. We saw the famous cows of France, pure white Charlevoix and the sheep of the coast, where they feed on salt water grasses which give a unique and special flavor to their meat.
The view of the abbey from afar is good, not great. The gates you walk through when you arrive are spectacularly reminiscent of King Arthur (this is not Disney, this was built ONE THOUSAND YEARS ago).
AMAZING.
I have penned a lot of words since this trip began but I am hard pressed to describe the feel and colors of Mont St. Michel in a way that could convey how ethereal it feels. Here you stand, up in the sky, surrounded by great architecture and look out to a landscape/waterscape of grays and blues and greens and purples but in shades you have never seen before in nature or maybe even in art. There is almost a filter like haze of color blurring the lines of demarcation from the sand to the water to the shore to the sky.
Yes it was worth the hours and the Euros.
No I did not want to move.
Yes I could have stayed at the top all day.
No Steve could not have.
And so after touring the Abbey,
having some crepes and cider, and walking a bit on the claylike gray sand,we bussed home to Paris, walked along the Seine back to our home to share a bit of Camenbert cheese with sharp Dijon mustard and a few glasses of chilled Provence Rose, not even a baguette in sight.
Addendum
Our days are so filled it has become difficult to have the time each day to blog all the things we are doing and experiencing while keeping a single topic of interest. So here is today's addendum.
An early start to the Viaduct in the 12th, an earlier version of NYC's High Line with the passages below now enclosed and filled with ateliers and artisans making everything from furniture to handmade umbrellas. The destination was the Marche D'Aligre, a friends favorite Paris Marche. There we bought tomatoes and cheese, figs and bread to try to turn out a few hors d'ouerves tonight in my miniscule kitchen for company. We hit the flea market mostly filled with junk but scored some antique Laguiole spoons and a Paris street scene book page to frame for our foyer at home.
While walking home we came across a food truck at the Bastille
The truck seemed to be advertising Philadelphia Cream Cheese...in the middle of Paris...really when they have creme fraiche??!!
Getting closer we could see the truck's food was being prepared by Pierre Sang Boyer, a very, very hot chef in Paris with a small no reservations restaurant on my list to get to before we left.
But more importantly, we scored the answer to the burning question...when is best time to show up to actually get a table?? The answer........twenty minutes before we open, lunch or dinner. You can be sure we will be there precisely then. And you can expect a nothing but foodie blog on Thursday if we score that table.
Comments
Post a Comment