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Ellen A. Wilkin

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Looking out from the top of Mont Saint-Michel. The sand flats lead out to the ocean in the background. In the foreground is one of the towers added to the abbey in the 19th century .

Looking out from the top of Mont Saint-Michel. The sand flats lead out to the ocean in the background. In the foreground is one of the towers added to the abbey in the 19th century .

Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Mont Saint-Michel, Tidal Flats, Monk Footprints, and Gloomy Crypts

March 23, 2017 in Anxiety, Memoir, Travel, Time Travel

Journal Excerpt: Thursday, June 9, 2011, Hotel Churchill:
Off to Saint Mont Michel this morning. Eating breakfast in the dining room of Churchill hotel. The maître d' was kind enough to ask if I wanted more coffee, so I said yes. And I decided to do a little writing while I wait. Talked with Dad last night. He was very pleased I called, but he sounded only OK. Still no appetite and still only sleeping OK.

Thursday morning I managed to get myself up, showered, and down to breakfast well before the appointed time to leave for Mont Saint-Michel. I had enough time for eggs and toast and fruit, and drank two cups of coffee. I was energized for the long trip in the shuttle.

Morris giving our little tour group our instructions before we explored Mont Saint-Michel.

Morris giving our little tour group our instructions before we explored Mont Saint-Michel.

There were several people taking the shuttle with me. They all spoke English, but talked among themselves. I sat up front with the driver, a French-Canadian expat named Morris. He was friendly and I felt very well-taken care of on the hour and a half journey. During the drive, Morris told us some of the history and trivia behind the monastery and the little town that surrounds it on its tiny mound of land, population 50. The island has been considered holy since the Celts believed the souls of the dead resided there. A Roman-Gaul culture established a church there by the 6th century.  The abbey was established on the site of the older church around 966. The town surrounding the abbey was burned and the townspeople massacred by two Breton dukes who were allied with the French king during the hundred years war. The king was so appalled that he paid for the abbey's restoration and that of some of the surrounding buildings. The site then survived the French Revolution, the indignity of being made into a prison, and the ravages of WWII.

Steep stairs near the monks dormitory level where the original chapel was. This way up to the abbey!

Steep stairs near the monks dormitory level where the original chapel was. This way up to the abbey!

Journal Excerpt: Later that same day, Hotel Churchill:
Back from Mont St.Michel—Remote. Cold wind whipping narrow streets. Hard stone crumbling in places. The smell of stale wine in the abbey chancel (near altar) the smell of another tourist's spearmint gum. Both narrow stairs and broad stairs. Arches upon arches. Naked stone and mortar where there used to be more décor back in the day of the Romanesque period—the early Normans before the Benedictines took over. Stark light and shadows on the landscape. The flats are patched in odd shapes of shadow from overhead clouds. They pattern the meadows along one river as well as the tides and sand flats.

The one street on the island of Mont Saint-Michel going up.

The one street on the island of Mont Saint-Michel going up.

Everything is up. The walls go up and the rails and towers are up. You crane your neck up. Shadows fall there. The sun careens through the greenery and ironwork of an inner garden courtyard. Grids with interlocking patterns over windows. The glass is still in the windows after all these centuries. Lots of empty space underground and even on top, but the ascent is narrow and windy/winding with shops crammed in on either side and restaurants and hotels. Claustrophobia might descend if I had to linger. Then yet, at the top, open space -- a terrace. A great room with vaulted ceilings, underground crypts – what are they? Didn't understand all the lingo used by the audio guide.

Looking down about midway up the Mont at maintenance going on at the base of the island. The workers drove their vehicles into the sand flats. Hope the tide is not coming in!

Looking down about midway up the Mont at maintenance going on at the base of the island. The workers drove their vehicles into the sand flats. Hope the tide is not coming in!

Everything was indeed, “up.” Morris left us at the entrance to the “town” of Mon Saint Michel: a cluster of houses, which hug the causeway that is the only link between Mon Saint-Michel and the mainland, and an old wooden gate that opens onto a steep cobbled street with more houses and businesses nestled along it. This is the only street in the town. It's really more of an allley. We had 2 ½ hours to explore, but we needed to be back at the shuttle van at 12:45pm.

Some of the 50-odd residents of the island live in houses clustered at the foot of Mont Saint-Michel.

Some of the 50-odd residents of the island live in houses clustered at the foot of Mont Saint-Michel.

I started up, camera at the ready. Was I in a town or within the walls of an ancient fortress? The shops and the pointed slate roofs and red chimneys signified town, but the walls and the ancient stone edifices argued for fortress. I had thought the whole of the island was the abbey, but so many other things went on here. What did all of those 50 people get up to? I climbed passed the shops and the more touristy area at the base of the fortress. As the street curved around, I glimpsed green foam and sand. The sea was right there. Another switch back and I was engulfed in the deep shadow of a wall a hundred-feet high.

This was a bustling area at the base of the Mont. Turns out: restrooms. And a gift shop. And originally where priests greeted pilgrims.

This was a bustling area at the base of the Mont. Turns out: restrooms. And a gift shop. And originally where priests greeted pilgrims.

The narrow street opened into a plaza. One wall to my right shot straight up. A ridge ran down it's length at an acute angle. I found out later that this was part of the mechanism used to haul supplies up to the prisoners above when the abbey was used as a prison in the 19th century. I'll get back to this later.

The "elevator" that officials used to haul up supplies for prisoners during the 18th century. A large wheel in the room at the top was used to pull the items up by a pulley system .

The "elevator" that officials used to haul up supplies for prisoners during the 18th century. A large wheel in the room at the top was used to pull the items up by a pulley system .

I hiked to the abbey entrance. I was high up. What incredible views these monks and nuns have! Can you imagine living and working on such a small piece of land and being stranded there when the tide came in? Editor's note: A bridge linking Mont Saint-Michel to the mainland was built in 2014. Now, even at high tide, there is a way off the island by car or foot. However, in 2015 the bridge was completely submerged by sea levels higher than any experience over the least 18 years.

Holy crow! We are up in the air!

Holy crow! We are up in the air!

Finally I entered the abbey itself. I was in a beautiful chapel. Turns out this was the Gothic Choir or crypt beside the main abbey church nave. It is one of three crypts added when the 9th-century church was rebuilt in the 12th century. The resident monks and nuns often worship here. It is more colorful and more human-sized than the church nave.

The Gothic Choir east of the main abbey church's nave.

The Gothic Choir east of the main abbey church's nave.

I really didn't know where I was and where I was going. The audio guide used terms I was unfamiliar with. I never got lost, but it usually took me until I was done exploring a space, or after I could compare/contrast it with another space, that I realized what it was. I have since learned that a crypt is a chapel built underground beneath a church. The other definition, which I was more familiar with, is "burial place."

Next I managed to stumble upon the cloister outside the monks' quarters. This covered walkway, with a wall on one side and open pillars on the other, was where the monks would walk to get from building to building. In 1966, a beautiful medieval garden was rebuilt in the center of the cloister by brother Bruno de Senneville. Boxwood shrubs form a square in the center with rose bushes placed outside at intervals. Another hedge lines the edge of the green, separating the garden from the cloister walkway. 

The cloister near the monks' quarters with the garden at center.

The cloister near the monks' quarters with the garden at center.

I continued on this level and stumbled upon the monks' dining hall. As I stood in the corner of the room I could imagine the scrape of the tables and benches against the floor as the monks sat down and pulled their bowls of gruel or stew towards them. It was a starkly beautiful room with the brick-colored tile and the worn but polished wooden tables. There was a large group of tourists in the center of the room, so I focused my camera at a close angle to capture the bench and tables against the tile floor.

The beauty of worn wood, reddish tiles and stone walls in the monks' dining hall.

The beauty of worn wood, reddish tiles and stone walls in the monks' dining hall.

I strolled, marveling at the beautiful tiled floors over which I imagined dozens of monkish robes had trailed and rugged sandals had passed.

The flooring was exquisite in places.

The flooring was exquisite in places.

Sometimes the exit from one room would be awkwardly juxtapositioned with the entrance to the next room, and at nowhere near the same level. A talented carpenter fashioned steps out of wood that solved the problem nicely.

Good thing there were carpenters about to connect the rooms that weren't quite at the same level.

Good thing there were carpenters about to connect the rooms that weren't quite at the same level.

I spied some old windows looking out over the flats. The glass clear as if new-made. A brace of metalwork holding it in place. There was another smaller island out there. This is Tombelaine, which lies a few kilometers north of Mont Saint-Michel. Breathtaking and otherworldly.

Another, smaller island, Tombelaine, spied through old glass near the main hall.

Another, smaller island, Tombelaine, spied through old glass near the main hall.

I wandered more, out through doors and into little gardens, then in through doors and over once-beautiful mosaic floors.

An ancient mosaic on the floor of an entranceway, worn from the treading of thousands upon thousands of feet.

An ancient mosaic on the floor of an entranceway, worn from the treading of thousands upon thousands of feet.

Following another group of tourists, I came upon the top of the elevator used to haul supplies when the abbey was used as a prison. A wheel was anchored at the top of the slope. It was big enough for a couple of men to walk inside it and provide the force to pull the goods up the ramp (pictured earlier).

The wheel used to haul goods to the top of the Mont when there was a prison there.

The wheel used to haul goods to the top of the Mont when there was a prison there.

As I continued to meander and try to find the sites identified in the audio guide, I spied steep stone stairs and people headed up. I realized there was a whole bunch of abbey below my feet. So I descended to what appeared to be the basement level. This level is where the first Christian church was built on the site of even older Roman-Gallic buildings.

The stair where everyone was headed up from a basement I had not explored yet.

The stair where everyone was headed up from a basement I had not explored yet.

Called the Notre-Dame Sous-Terre or "Our Mother Underground," this first church was “lost” centuries after the foundations for newer abbey structures were built over it. It was converted to a dormitory for monks beginning around 1060. The chamber was rediscovered in the late 19th century, but not unearthed until 1959. I climbed down into it. It was cold and clammy, but there were small windows high up in the walls that prevented it from feeling like a tomb. There were tiles on the floor here and there, and walls that turned in odd direction suddenly. You could see the layers of new laid on old.

The Carolingian style architecture of the original church underneath the current abbey. This served as the monks quarters once the new abbey was built.

The Carolingian style architecture of the original church underneath the current abbey. This served as the monks quarters once the new abbey was built.

In researching the background of the abbey for this blog post, I got confused. According to my sources on Wikipedia, the basic architecture of the original church is called Carolingian in honor of the early Franks who ruled the area before the 9th century. This style is influenced by Roman architecture, but pre-dates Romanesque. The columns I saw holding up the crypt look like the Romanesque architecture I had seen in Paris and other cities in France. And some of the photos of the original church on various web pages look different from my photos. I began to wonder if I had ever truly made it down to "Our Mother Underground." But what I just realized is that the outer walls of the crypt are part of the original "Mother" church foundations. The stone is irregular and the masonry rough. The columns are smoother and more elegant. They were probably added later to support the newer abbey-church foundation. Phew! Now it makes sense!

It was time to head down. I had only 15 minutes to make it back to the shuttle, which Morris said would be waiting on the causeway near to where he had parked earlier that morning. But down was faster than up. I felt a reluctance to descend quickly through the levels. I lingered over the stone walls and towers, and the surprise gardens and flowering shrubs that clung to life in the tiniest corners of the abbey fortress.

Starting my descent from the top of Mont Saint-Michel back to the parking lot where Morris would be waiting with the shuttle van.

Starting my descent from the top of Mont Saint-Michel back to the parking lot where Morris would be waiting with the shuttle van.

Before I hiked all the way back to the causeway where on the shuttle waited, I took one last look at the Mont at a distance from the "land side." One more chance to understand the outer structure of the abbey and everything that holds it up.

The "land side" of the island and abbey. A strong foundation of native rock and human engineering.

The "land side" of the island and abbey. A strong foundation of native rock and human engineering.

The drive back was uneventful. Morris chatted about a crêperie in Bayeux that he liked. I wrote down the name, and promised to check it out. After returning to the Hotel Churchill and taking a nap, I stopped by the restaurant for dinner. It was housed in an 18th-century building with a small dining room up front, a bar in the back, and a loft with seating that overlooked the cobbled street below. Dinner was delicious. I had a savory crepe, followed by a sweet crepe for dessert. I loved what the French could do with dough! I was the only customer in the restaurant, but the family that owned the place seemed happy I was there. I tended to eat earlier than most French people. The owners spoke little English, but I had no trouble communicating what I wanted, nor completing the transaction.

A statue of the Virgin Mary in a garden on my way to see the Bayeux Cathedral.

A statue of the Virgin Mary in a garden on my way to see the Bayeux Cathedral.

I returned to Hotel Churchill by way of the Bayeux Cathedral, La Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Bayeux ("Cathedral of Our Lady of Bayeux"), built on the site of Roman buildings. It was a lovely setting and I enjoyed walking through the old streets.

The interior of the Bayeux Cathedral.

The interior of the Bayeux Cathedral.

Even though I was tired and had seen a lot of church already, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see this beautiful and historic Romanesque and Gothic church. It was here that Duke William of Normandy made Harold Godwinson of England take an oath, the breaking of which led to the Norman Conquest. (See previous blog about my experience viewing the Bayeux tapestry.)

Harold touching two altars as he swore an oath to Duke William of Normandy in what appears to be Bayeux Cathedral. From the Bayeux Tapestry. By Myrabella - Own work, Public Domain. Wikimedia commons.

Harold touching two altars as he swore an oath to Duke William of Normandy in what appears to be Bayeux Cathedral. From the Bayeux Tapestry. By Myrabella - Own work, Public Domain. Wikimedia commons.

The Bayeux cathedral was originally built by Odo, Duke William's brother, in the 11th century. The Bayeux Tapestry adorned the interior when the cathedral was consecrated in 1077. The cathedral had to be rebuilt in the Gothic style in the 12th century after a fire severely damaged it. The interior was certainly beautiful, but I moved swiftly through it to get to the tombs.

The crypt below the Bayeux Cathedral.

The crypt below the Bayeux Cathedral.

I was interested in the crypt underneath the cathedral which was one of the few parts of the structure that were still Romanesque.  I guess I hadn't had enough of rooms buried in foundational rock yet. I was not disappointed. These catacombs were just as otherworldly as the Mont, and perhaps more so. The light playing off the features of the columns, the sharp relief of the designs casting shadows. Brown, bright blue, and white. It was gorgeous. Some of the pillars and walls still showed paintings from the 15th century. And this crypt does indeed contain tombs, including that of a bishop from the 15th century.

15th century painting on a pillar in the crypt underneath Bayeux Cathedral.

15th century painting on a pillar in the crypt underneath Bayeux Cathedral.

When I returned to Hotel Churchill that night, I knew I would be sad to leave Bayeux that next morning, Friday. But I was also excited to move on to Saumur where, on Saturday, I would participate in the largest open-air market in France. But I was also nervous because I had to navigate mass transit from Bayeux back to Caen, then from Caen to Le Mans (a place I would later come back to), and finally from Le Mans to Saumur. The last leg of the journey would have to be by bus, for which I had no reservation. I needed to get on the right bus to get to my hotel in a timely fashion Friday evening. I would be at the mercy of the employees at the train and bus station. Again. C'est la vie!

Other References:
Wikipedia entries on Mont Saint-Michel
and the Abbey
The Epic Adventures web site, In the Steps of William the Conqueror: Bayeux Cathedral

Tags: Bayeux Tapestry, Mont Saint-Michel, tidal flats, abbey, island, Bayeux Cathedral, Hotel Churchill, crepes
The entrance to the Bayeux Tapestry Museum in Normandy, France.

The entrance to the Bayeux Tapestry Museum in Normandy, France.

Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Roundabouts and Ring Roads, 800 Years Too Early, and the Bayeux Tapestry

March 09, 2017 in Memoir, Travel, Writer's Life

Wednesday June 8, 2011, Bayeux in Calvados, Normandy, France.

One of the ironies of my visit to Calvados, Normandy was that I was there during the 67th anniversary of D-Day, and I hadn't even thought about touring sites related to WWII. I was focused 800 years before that on the 12th century. For a moment I was sad that I had no time to learn more about that day in our history in the place where it happened. But I had a mission to focus on those sites that were much older. I did enjoy being able to talk to so many Americans and Canadians (and some ex-pat Brits) in Bayeux and Caen who were there visiting or working because of the D-Day tourist attractions.

Wednesday, June 8th, I took the mid-afternoon train from Caen to Bayeux without incident.  It was a 30-minute trip. Because it was one of the cheapest train tickets I would buy, my travel agent had suggested I not use my EuRail Pass and, instead, purchase the ticket directly. So I followed her advice. My, how much easier it was not having to deal with the EuRail Pass!

View of the southbound (towards Caen) platform at Gare de Bayeux, 29 October 2011, by Nick-D (Own work) CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

View of the southbound (towards Caen) platform at Gare de Bayeux, 29 October 2011, by Nick-D (Own work) CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

During this tour of Europe, whenever I arrived at a new destination and before I departed the train, I would ask myself, am I really at the right place? I had a moment like that at Bayeux. Earlier that day, I had called the Hotel Churchill for directions from the train station to the hotel. A lovely gentlemen gave me detailed instructions in an impeccable British accent, and I wrote them out on my travel itinerary. But I was disheartened when I looked out the window as the train arrived. The Bayeux train station appeared to be in the middle of an industrial area. Nothing hotel-like or town-like around. I stared at the paper that spelled out the directions, hoping it would all make sense once I started walking. (Looking back on this incident, I can't help thinking that travel would have been so much easier a couple years later, after I had upgraded to a smartphone with GPS built-in. But it would have changed the nature of the adventure. And I would not wish for that now.)

My scribbled directions to Hotel Churchill from the Bayeyx train station.

My scribbled directions to Hotel Churchill from the Bayeyx train station.

Directions Scribbled on The Travel Society Itinerary for Hotel Churchill in Bayeux, France:
Come out of Train Station. Cross street (the junction with bypass) St Rue de Cremil.
Go straight. At light go straight: On Rue aux Coqu.
In 300m on left street going down. Turn (right before parking lot) Before street curves right: This is Place de Tribunal. Court Building.
Place de Quebec. Parking. Hotel is there.

A view from one of the bridges over the Aure River, which flows through the old city center of Bayeux. Planters of flowers were everywhere.

A view from one of the bridges over the Aure River, which flows through the old city center of Bayeux. Planters of flowers were everywhere.

The scribbles didn't make complete sense, But I knew I would figure it out. I was three weeks into my travels and nothing horrible had happened. Even the horsefly bite hadn't set me back.  Upon exiting Bayeux le Gare, I took the opposite direction of most other people getting off the train, crossing the street as instructed. Then I hesitated. I wasn't in a great hurry and I still didn't see what looked like a quaint French village, so I glanced again at the map in my guide book. No, I was right. I was heading in the right direction.

The front desk at the Hotel Churchill Bayeux. The hotel has since become part of a larger hotel system with the addition of the new Villa Lara Hotel.

The front desk at the Hotel Churchill Bayeux. The hotel has since become part of a larger hotel system with the addition of the new Villa Lara Hotel.

After crossing the street I came to a roundabout, which was not mentioned in the directions at all. It passed under a highway bypass, which was. There were no street signs in front of the station so I couldn't confirm which street I was on. Where was St. Rue de Cremil? I traveled around the roundabout clockwise heading north-northwest. Ah! There it was! Rue de Cremil!  I followed it northwest and, to my relief, traveled away from industrial modern Bayeux. The town center was actually quite small and quaint. Aha! Rue de Cremil BECOMES Rue aux Coqs! That's right! Now I was cooking. I found my left turn and went down along the Place de Quebec, skirting the parking lot, and winding my way by the court building and there it was, as the street bent right. I walked into the lobby and I had entered a Hotel in the middle of Old London.

Editor's note: I later found out that the roundabout I traveled through was part of a larger “ring road,” which was the first of it's kind in Europe, having been built by British military engineers right after D-Day.

A close-up of the key cabinet on the wall across from the front desk at the Hotel Churchill.

A close-up of the key cabinet on the wall across from the front desk at the Hotel Churchill.

Journal Excerpt, Wednesday June 8, 2011, Hotel Churchill:
Feeling so welcomed at Hotel Churchill. One clerk says I have brought the sun. The other clerk reminds me of a Dickens' character: Small, robust, a bit round-shouldered, balding, white hair, spectacles. He wore a brown tweed jacket over a white dress shirt and dress slacks and shoes. My guy wore a black suit—formal yet friendly.

The view from the walkway over the inner courtyard of the old Hotel Churchill that led to my quarters.

The view from the walkway over the inner courtyard of the old Hotel Churchill that led to my quarters.

The Hotel Churchill did seem like it was lifted from an 18th-century British novel. I wouldn't have been surprised if the older clerk had a pocket watch anchored to the button hole of his waistcoat. English was everywhere!  My room was on the first floor (second floor for us US types). To get to it I had to go up a stair and cross a walkway into an adjacent building. The room was small and comfortable with lots of light. There was a lovely view on my way to and from the lobby and dining room through the elevated walkway, which looked down on a courtyard with of urns filled with flowers and small trees. There were also flowers everywhere along throughout the old city center.

My room at the Hotel Churchill with my handy-dandy HP mini running Linux, which allowed my to process and post photos as I traveled.

My room at the Hotel Churchill with my handy-dandy HP mini running Linux, which allowed my to process and post photos as I traveled.

I would have a short stay in Bayeux--only two nights-- and I was leaving by the 2:30 train that last afternoon, Friday, the 10th. I had planned to see Mont Saint Michel, a rocky hill of an island in the middle of a tidal flat along the coast between Bayeux and St. Malo. At its peak was an 8th-century monastery. Sometimes the island was connected to the mainland, sometimes it was surrounded on all sides by water. It was an ancient site that had survived the hundred years war and the Nazi's. I was not going to miss it! Mont Saint Michel was about an hour-and-a-half journey by shuttle. Unfortunately, Thursday's shuttle had been completely full when my travel agent called to make arrangements for me, and she was forced to book me on the tour for Friday. That meant I was at great risk of missing my train if I went. So, one of the first things I did upon arriving at the Churchill was to ask to change my reservation on the shuttle to Thursday. I was in luck! They now had room, and my reservation was changed to the next morning. I had to be ready to leave at 8:20a.m., so no lounging in bed!

Picture of Bayeux tapestry behind glass at the museum in Bayeux, France. Photo by Dave of Travelin' Tigers, 2002.

Picture of Bayeux tapestry behind glass at the museum in Bayeux, France. Photo by Dave of Travelin' Tigers, 2002.

There was plenty of time left before dinner, so after changing my reservation with the clerk, I headed for the Tapestry museum.  The Tapestry museum houses the famous Bayeux Tapestry which depicts the Battle of Hastings in 1066. During the battle, Duke William of Normandy, formerly Bill the Bastard, defeated King Harold of England and took the crown from him, becoming William I of England. There are many myths surrounding this tapestry, and some questions remain unanswered. But scholars believe that the tapestry was commissioned by Bishop Odo, William's half brother, and made in England by seamstresses or monks. It is not technically a tapestry because the design is not part of the woven fabric. The design was embroidered onto a woven piece of off-white linen. Some art historians now refer to it as the Bayeux Embroderie. The Bayeux tapestry is 230 feet long and 20 inches tall. It is the largest medieval tapestry of its kind to survive (panels of a Scandinavian embroidery using the same basic technique have been found dating from the 9th century and were likely the precursor of Anglo Saxon and Norman embroidery). The Bayeux Tapestry survived the Huguenot invasion of the 16th century, the French Revolution of the 18th century, and both the Nazi occupation and the Normandy Landing in the 1940s. It depicts, among other things, Haley's Comet, which helps date it to after 1066.

Detail in the Bayeux Tapestry showing the Battle of Hastings, England, 1066. By Unknown Weaver, English (active c. 1080) (Web Gallery of Art:   ImageInfo about artwork) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Detail in the Bayeux Tapestry showing the Battle of Hastings, England, 1066. By Unknown Weaver, English (active c. 1080) (Web Gallery of Art:   ImageInfo about artwork) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The museum is housed in a beautiful 19th-century building, which was a former seminary, complete with a replica of a Norman ship out front. There were three Japanese flags standing beside the longboat. I have no idea why. Inside, after paying my fee, I received an audio guide in English that described each panel of the tapestry. In the viewing room, the tapestry is laid out in full under glass and in the dark. The tapestry is back lit so the images in each panel glow. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the low light. Flash photography is not allowed, so I did not attempt to take a picture with my little Canon Powershot. I was amazed at the brightness of the colors in this 950-year-old work. The border was full of little figures, some naked, some dismembered (in battle, one would presume) and some farming the fields and going about their business. Controversies surround some of the panels. In the one in which King Harold gets shot in the eye by an arrow, there is a clear label above his head that says, Harold Rex. However in the next panel, a different figure who experts believe is Harold, is killed with a sword. Above this figure's head, it says interfectus est, or "he is slain." Evidence shows that the arrow was added in the 19th century, so the original meaning of the panel is still under debate.

The tapestry was so astounding to me with so many figures and scenes depicted, I went back the next day to see it again after I returned from Mont Saint Michel.

Water wheel along the Aure River in the center of Bayeux, France.

Water wheel along the Aure River in the center of Bayeux, France.

I found dinner at a local cafe, and when I returned to my room, I called my 82-year-old father back home in the States. My sister had mentioned in an email that he was worried about me traveling by myself. He hadn't heard from me since I left, other than through the post cards I had sent him and the other members of my family, as well as my friends. I knew my dad would want to hear my voice. I imagined he was thinking the worst: me being kidnapped or caught up in a terrorist bombing. He was relieved to talk with me and glad to hear that nothing bad had happened. He was doing okay, but only okay. He was having a lot of trouble adjusting to living alone since my mother died almost a year before. He was still living in the house I grew up in, in the country.  He was worried about me; I was a bit worried about him. So, we were even. But my mother's death had also affected me. I think it is one of the reasons I had to take this eight-week trip alone. Mom was a writer, teacher, and traveler. She had visited New Zealand by herself and had traveled to Europe with walking tours without my father, who didn't like to travel. I had traveled with her to Ireland twice, and in some ways, we were traveling together on this trip.

That night I slept soundly because, in the morning, I was off early to tour Mont Saint Michel. It should be something.

TO BE CONTINUED!

References:
European Traveler, "See the Bayeux Tapestry and Museum in Normandy"
Wikipedia entry on the Bayeux Tapestry
 

Tags: Solo Travel, Bayeux Tapestry, Bill the Bastard, Battle of Hastings, William I, France, Keeping in Touch While Traveling

Photo by Retro Perspective Studios

Photo by Retro Perspective Studios

Welcome to my blog. I write about writing, performing while being an introvert, science in every day life, nature next door, low-carbon-lifestyle, gardening and cooking, relationships, travel, depression/anxiety, and feminism. With Humor. Mostly.

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  • Stopping to catch the view at Rogers Grove Park during my out and back ride on our little orphan segment of the Sai… https://t.co/cvDLDE6KSp
    Mar 2, 2023, 3:19 PM
The Eleanor Vase
The Eleanor Vase
There are times when I just sit and think
There are times when I just sit and think
Dyer's Cottage
Dyer's Cottage
Dressing up and recreating Rockwell
Dressing up and recreating Rockwell
Birdwatching
Birdwatching
  • January 2025
    • Jan 19, 2025 Public Reading and Signing of my poetry book, Snow Signals Jan 19, 2025
    • Jan 16, 2025 I'd Like a Cosmopolitan Jan 16, 2025
  • March 2023
    • Mar 1, 2023 Winter-Spring Essay 2023: Couple Improves House Mar 1, 2023
  • February 2022
    • Feb 16, 2022 Cloud Diary Feb 16, 2022
  • November 2021
    • Nov 29, 2021 Clouds Nov 29, 2021
  • July 2021
    • Jul 2, 2021 Dave as a Beer Jul 2, 2021
  • January 2021
    • Jan 23, 2021 Happy Winter! Jan 23, 2021
  • February 2020
    • Feb 22, 2020 Winter Poem Feb 22, 2020
    • Feb 22, 2020 Winter Letter 2019/2020 Feb 22, 2020
    • Feb 11, 2020 The Bells Feb 11, 2020
  • November 2019
    • Nov 28, 2019 If You Can’t Find a Friend Nov 28, 2019
  • October 2019
    • Oct 5, 2019 Weird Oct 5, 2019
    • Oct 2, 2019 I Was Writer in Residence at the Gloucester Writer's Center Oct 2, 2019
  • September 2019
    • Sep 10, 2019 Calling Inspiration Sep 10, 2019
  • June 2019
    • Jun 6, 2019 Even After My Death Jun 6, 2019
  • February 2019
    • Feb 22, 2019 Blue, What Are You? Feb 22, 2019
    • Feb 17, 2019 Great Horned Owl Feb 17, 2019
    • Feb 2, 2019 Winter Letter 2018/2019 Feb 2, 2019
    • Feb 2, 2019 Finding a Connection Feb 2, 2019
  • January 2019
    • Jan 15, 2019 Reaching for the Horizon Jan 15, 2019
  • December 2018
    • Dec 31, 2018 Timpano Feast: Ring in the New Year with a Big Night Dec 31, 2018
    • Dec 27, 2018 Christmas Mouse Dec 27, 2018
  • November 2018
    • Nov 20, 2018 Bottomful Pancakes Nov 20, 2018
  • October 2018
    • Oct 23, 2018 Rembrandt's Prints at the DAM Oct 23, 2018
  • August 2018
    • Aug 20, 2018 A Little Package From Across the Pond Aug 20, 2018
  • July 2018
    • Jul 11, 2018 The Field Car Jul 11, 2018
  • April 2018
    • Apr 20, 2018 Pillars Apr 20, 2018
    • Apr 11, 2018 ArtSpeak Collaboration: Julie Clement & Ellen Wilkin Apr 11, 2018
  • March 2018
    • Mar 20, 2018 The Dancing Giant Mar 20, 2018
  • February 2018
    • Feb 22, 2018 Bird Catalog Feb 22, 2018
    • Feb 13, 2018 The Workings of the Heart Feb 13, 2018
  • January 2018
    • Jan 26, 2018 Before the Ice Melts Jan 26, 2018
    • Jan 19, 2018 Winter Letter 2017-2018 Jan 19, 2018
  • December 2017
    • Dec 31, 2017 My Own Take on the Artist Prayer from The Artist Way by J. Cameron Dec 31, 2017
    • Dec 23, 2017 Secular Rewrite of Basic Principles (from Artist's Way by J. Cameron) Dec 23, 2017
    • Dec 20, 2017 The Party Had Been a Roaring Success Dec 20, 2017
    • Dec 3, 2017 Space Dec 3, 2017
  • November 2017
    • Nov 17, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: The Chateau d'Angers and the Apocalypse Tapestry Nov 17, 2017
    • Nov 16, 2017 I Was on the Radio Talking about Bus Rapid Transit in Boulder County Nov 16, 2017
  • October 2017
    • Oct 26, 2017 Run Carrot Run! Oct 26, 2017
    • Oct 5, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Angers Cheer, Foreign Language Laundry, and Still Bugged Oct 5, 2017
  • September 2017
    • Sep 27, 2017 Still Not Fitting In Sep 27, 2017
  • August 2017
    • Aug 2, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Chinon Fortress, the Reluctant Bishop, and Another Wine Cave Aug 2, 2017
  • June 2017
    • Jun 29, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Abbey at Fontevraud, Eleanor's Final Resting Place Jun 29, 2017
  • April 2017
    • Apr 27, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Unable to Speak at Le Mans; Grumpy Gus; Kindness, Rudeness, then Irony in Saumur Apr 27, 2017
    • Apr 18, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Reflections on Time Travel, Traveler Angst, and What One's Protagonist Might Do Apr 18, 2017
  • March 2017
    • Mar 23, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Mont Saint-Michel, Tidal Flats, Monk Footprints, and Gloomy Crypts Mar 23, 2017
    • Mar 9, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Roundabouts and Ring Roads, 800 Years Too Early, and the Bayeux Tapestry Mar 9, 2017
  • February 2017
    • Feb 16, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Standing with Lions, Stumbling on an Archaeological Dig, and Shooing a Fly Feb 16, 2017
    • Feb 15, 2017 Days Feb 15, 2017
    • Feb 1, 2017 Dear Humans: Happy Winter 2016-2017! Feb 1, 2017
  • January 2017
    • Jan 24, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Bill the Bastard's Birthplace, Cider, and Road Rage Jan 24, 2017
    • Jan 9, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Tough, Alone, and Inspired Jan 9, 2017
    • Jan 1, 2017 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Building a Castle at Guédelon Jan 1, 2017
  • December 2016
    • Dec 17, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: A Drive through Burgundy Dec 17, 2016
    • Dec 8, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Exploring the Middle Ages at the Cluny Dec 8, 2016
  • November 2016
    • Nov 30, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Unexpected Pleasure in Dresden Nov 30, 2016
    • Nov 21, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Half Destroyed and Living History Nov 21, 2016
    • Nov 10, 2016 Eight-Week Eruope Solo Travel: The Eleanor Vase! Geek Out! Nov 10, 2016
    • Nov 2, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Paris. Where to Pee? In Subway, at Louvre, or Directly on EurRail Pass? Nov 2, 2016
  • October 2016
    • Oct 26, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Don't Turn Right at the Left Bank Oct 26, 2016
    • Oct 20, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Show Me the Gang Plank! Oct 20, 2016
    • Oct 12, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Writing and Laundry Oct 12, 2016
    • Oct 5, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Dance & Sing & Meditate on Board Oct 5, 2016
  • September 2016
    • Sep 28, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travelogue 2011: Aboard Wednesday, AM Sep 28, 2016
    • Sep 21, 2016 Eight-Week Europe Solo Travelogue 2011: A NYC Moment Sep 21, 2016
    • Sep 14, 2016 Write Everywhere Portable Desk Sep 14, 2016
    • Sep 7, 2016 Escaping from the Self-Hating Negativity Jungle of Jealousy Sep 7, 2016
  • August 2016
    • Aug 23, 2016 So, You're Walking! Aug 23, 2016
    • Aug 10, 2016 Not Enough Daves Aug 10, 2016
    • Aug 3, 2016 Dany Aug 3, 2016
  • July 2016
    • Jul 28, 2016 Sketch: Meditation on Meditation Jul 28, 2016
    • Jul 13, 2016 Addicted to Spider Solitaire Jul 13, 2016
    • Jul 8, 2016 The Quest Jul 8, 2016
  • June 2016
    • Jun 9, 2016 My Dinners with Julia Jun 9, 2016
  • April 2016
    • Apr 11, 2016 Forgotten Past Re-Emerges in Digital Age Apr 11, 2016