Mount Saint Michel and Saint Malo

Much more sleep last night, although the blasted telemarketer from Oz who rang J at some bloody ungodly hour wasn’t helpful! Forecast is only about 16 today but no rain. Unfortunately it is heavy fog and cloud which means that it isn’t the best conditions for our trip to Mont St Michel. Along the way we are able to make a short photo stop at a Commonwealth war graves cemetery. Here Allied service personnel have been buried and it is pleasing to see the age upon death plus a sweet verse of some kind added to each cross. Well set out and beautifully maintained.

As it is a public holiday very long weekend, the crowds at St Malo are big and we have to wait a while for the special bus that will take us directly to the abbey. As there is no area for turning a normal coach around at the abbey’s entrance, specially built buses take visitors along the causeway and when they get to the end, stop the bus, everyone piles out and then the driver goes to the other end of the bus, gets into the driver seat positioned there and heads back to collect more passengers, and so on. I’ve never seen a double headed bus before and unfortunately couldn’t get a clear photo of one to share with you, so use your imagination please, I can’t be spoon feeding you all the time!
Cecile is our local guide and certainly earns her money today as she tries to keep our large group together while it is very crowded in a lot of the more narrow alleys and stairways. Sylvia elects to stay at a cafe where our coach is parked, while the rest of us vie for positions on crowded two -headed buses. On any blue skies day, you have a beautiful image of the abbey standing on an island which can be reached by a causeway across the sands. Today’s heavy cloud makes that view impossible as initially the abbey is hardly visible from the coast as we get closer on the crowded bus, it is a more eerie sight than spectacular. It is about a 7 minute ride to where we are stopped towards the end of the causeway. we then have a 500 metre walk to the entrance of the abbey. It is cold and windy and grey, but the abbey now looks like it is the set for a gothic horror movie! It’s only the bustling crowds that ruin the atmosphere. (I’ve bought a postcard and photographed it so you know what it can look like)

But now to the history of this grand place. Back in about 708 the bishop had a sanctuary built on among Mt Tombe (the top of where we now are) in honour of the Archangel Michael. Soon became a major pilgrimage point. In the 10th century, the Benedictines settled in the abbey and by the 14th century it had extended to a village beyond its walls. During the 100 years war, it was impenetrable so the Mont St Michel became a symbol of national identity. In low tide you can walk across the sands, but high tide comes in quickly so that you can easily get stranded. No army wanted to risk that! Very clever design and architecture. And ofcourse, St Michael is the patron saint of police officers so I was even more impressed. And to keep sister happy, there’s even a photo of Kee with J taken at the top of the abbey.

After our tour with Cecile (and climbing over 400 steps to get to the top of the abbey) we were left to our own devices, so J and I wended our way back down through the external paths of the abbey, to the village lanes which were even more shoulder to shoulder crowded, and made our way to the causeway where we hopped on one of the buses and made our way back to our starting point. I’m not sure if it is because this is great farming land, but colourful cows are dotted along the Main Street. Reminds me of the Berlin bears. J and I decide to get our lunch now so grab a baguette (and I also got a coconut tart which tasted just like a vanilla slice but without any icing) and our timing couldn’t have been better as large queues formed shortly after we had bought our lunch and grabbed a table to sit at.

Time to get back on our coach And we head to St Malo which is situated on the Rance estuary and quite charming, albeit cold today. Once again lots of people but Cecile takes us on a walking tour mainly away from the crowded main streets as we explore the city of Corsairs. We make our way to a lovely vantage point with great views of the coastline and then walk along the top of the walled city. We have a look in the cathedral which is the burial place of Jacques Cartier (well known to Canadians) and other celebrated voyagers. This city was rife with privateers, that we would call pirates, but as long as they gave a third of their spoils to the city, they had a licence as such to maraud foreign ships. Will have to be reminded of one of the most prominent privateers who is much revered by the local French for helping keep those dastardly Brits at bay.


We have a bit of free time and many are keen to hit the shops, but we are on a mission to avoid the madding crowds and find a bar, as we stride off from our group I hear the sound of running feet and a little voice saying “may we join you?” At which point I see Karen and Glen in our wake. I’m wondering how I can tell them that we are not going for coffee, so have to fess up and say that we are going for wine and Glen says that when they saw us heading away, he told Karen to follow us as they were confident we would know where to find alcohol! LOL. We find a bar, grab a table for four and enjoy a much needed wine. Back to the coach and then back to our hotel which is right on the waterfront and the rooms are good, plus we have a lovely little balcony but it is too cool to sit outside. One of the first things we have learnt to do upon going into a new hotel room is to check out the bathroom shower arrangement. Jo struggled to determine how to get the shower rose to work. So hard to find a tap or button to get the bath tap to convert to the shower rose that she had to get into the bath to try and find a hidden knob or dial but still no luck. When she gave up in despair, I had my turn, and straight away found a little lever at the back of the bath tap and voila, we have water through the shower rose! What a laugh.

Time to head out for our optional dinner to Cancale, known throughout France for its oysters (there are 7km of oyster farms). Guess what I’m having for dinner? We are now in Brittany and as we drive to our restaurant, we notice the similarity to English countryside where fields are now divided by hedges and high hedges along the narrow winding roads. At the restaurant, we sit with Karen and Glen, plus Kee has rushed in to sit with us, as has Lyn who is from Sydney. Within a very short period of time, our table is clearly having the most fun...I discover that Glen, who I am sitting next to, is a single malt fan, so I proclaim him my new best friend. Shortly after, Lyn announces that she is a whisky drinker at which time I say to Glen, “have you met Lyn, who is now Our new best friend?” Much laughing and good humour throughout the evening.

My starter was a seafood platter containing oysters, prawns, welks and cockles. Lyn had 9 oysters and said they were excellent. My main was mussels and there must have been about 50 of them, plus chips which were an unusual ‘scooped’ shape but very good. Couldn’t eat all the chips but scoffed down the mussels! Dessert was a caramel ice cream pancake. The wine was free flowing and a lovely evening had by all. Time to get back on the coach, but as Shona had previously told us that it was the law in France to drink all the wine, our group was the last to leave the restaurant as we still had wine in our glasses!!! An even noisier coach trip back to our hotel when Shona played ‘Delilah’ and told us we had to do armchair karaoke, which J and I were very happy to join in with! Finally back to the hotel and Shona suggested we keep driving around the block until we finished singing.. back in the hotel and time for bed, Weather wasn’t especially kind to us but a great day.

Photos to follow when I get better wifi..