Bayeux | sharp & keen

Bayeux and the American Cemetery

Posted on October 19, 2012 by katie

When we first started planning our trip, we didn’t intend to visit the D-Day Beaches. We knew our time was limited and the beaches are a little out of the way. But then Cristen’s brother, who served in Afghanistan, asked her to bring him back some sand from the D-Day beaches and we adjusted our plans to include it. We chose to stay in Bayeux because it’s conveniently located near the D-Day beaches and the American Cemetery, but we still wanted to get an early start in the morning. We had a pretty full agenda – visiting at least one beach and the American Cemetery and Memorial, then driving to Mont Saint-Michel for a visit, and then we had a 4-hour drive back to Paris. But since we were in Bayeux, we simply couldn’t leave without seeing the Bayeux Tapestry.

So we drove into town just before the museum was supposed to open, and it was even better in the daylight.

And here’s the museum where the tapestry is located.

We got there just as a bus full of tourists arrived. It’s a very straightforward museum. You walk in, pay your money, pick up your audio guide in your chosen language (which I actually did use even though I’m averse to audio guides), and then you listen to the narrative of the tapestry as you stroll along. The tapestry is so much longer than you expect, but it’s also incredibly fascinating. I absolutely loved looking at it. We couldn’t take photos because of preservation, but the wikipedia entry I linked to earlier has some great details. I especially loved the battle scenes with the charging horses (it’s amazing how they depicted speed with just thread) and the dying bodies. It was definitely worth the stop.

It was a short drive from Bayeux to the American Cemetery. We could tell they catered to American tourists because we saw a sign for “Quick Lunch” and the cemetery had a huge parking lot. Aww… American conveniences. The coast wasn’t at all how I pictured. I kept expecting to see beach in front of me, but we arrived at the cemetery before I even saw the water. That’s because the land actually drops off quite suddenly. It was quite green and lush.

They had this nifty model of where all of the beaches are and how they figured in the invasion.

Here’s a close-up of the diagram.

There’s a path that leads down to the beach. Cristen started down it with a bottle for sand while I went to see the memorial.

Even though I’m a Master of American Studies (according to Purdue University, class of 2007), my knowledge of American History is pretty sketchy. It’s based off anything I’ve read in books, seen in movies, or learned in Art History. Luckily there are lots of great WWII movies, and if you need a refresher, there’s lots of diagrams on the memorial wall.

Also even though I’m a Master of American Studies (see how I got that in there twice?), I’ve never been the most patriotic American. Or at least, my patriotism often swells at surprising times. But walking into the American Cemetery, I choked up with the overwhelming feeling of gratitude and sadness all at once. I remember visiting Arlington National Cemetery when I was about 15 and looking out at all of the thousands of crosses and thinking about the wastefulness of war. I am proud of those who willingly put themselves in harm’s way to protect others. We so often speak of the men and women in the military as “the military” or “the armed forces” or some other vague group. And then you visit Arlington or the American Cemetery and you are confronted with rows and rows of individual markers. It’s hard not to think about the wastefulness of lives cut short.

But like I said, it’s sadness mixed with a deep gratitude.

Gardens at Giverny

Posted on October 18, 2012 by katie

We planned to visit Giverny on our way up to Normandy, but first we had to get out of Paris. This is the part of driving in France that I was most nervous about. We didn’t have a paper map and had neglected to print off directions, so we were relying completely on Sir Percy the GPS to guide us to the freeway. However, Sir Percy had been in deep hibernation, and it took a long time for him to have enough energy to tell us where we needed to go.

Meanwhile, I was driving the streets of Paris. I would have parked, but I couldn’t find a parking space. Of course, that didn’t stop many people from just parking in the street and turning on their hazards. The prevailing attitude seemed to be, “I’ll do what I need to do, and you can deal with it.” At first, it’s kind of frustrating because I didn’t know what to expect from people, and I didn’t trust the drivers around me. But then I put my aggressive Paris driver face on and realized that I was out for myself, too. It didn’t matter so much when I was just going straight, but when it came to intersections and especially to merging onto the freeway, it was every man for himself. Here’s a basic picture of what it was like.

Oh, except, I forgot to add the motorbikes and scooters that are also weaving in and out of traffic at 50 mph. After the second or third car came within 1 inch of hitting me, I had to just trust that the other drivers knew what they were doing and do my own thing, too. And it worked. We made it out of Paris alive and with nary a dent on the car.

Once we got away from traffic and the city, driving on the freeway felt pretty normal. And then we got off at the exit for Giverny and started driving on these little roads and through some villages and I suddenly realized that I was driving in France. That doesn’t look very significant when I write it down, but it felt awesome. And everything was so incredibly charming.

When we arrived in Giverny, we circled the parking lot three or four times before a family walking back to their car took pity on us and allowed us to follow them and take their parking space. I was a little worried that crowds would once again dampen the experience, but then we walked inside Monet’s gardens and toured his house.

Photography isn’t allowed inside the house, but you can find a few photos online. For example, here’s the yellow dining room:

And here’s the kitchen:

Photo from AtticMag

Are you loving it? I totally fell in love with his house. It’s probably not even the decor, but the atmosphere there. It just buzzed with life somehow. I just wanted to live there and read and write and paint and maybe even garden, although I’d probably prefer to have gardeners. Plus, you could sit out on the balcony and look at this view.

And I could spend hours wandering these gardens.

Perfect backdrop for a selfie…

And yeah, it was pretty crowded (and almost impossible to get a photo without another tourist in it), but it didn’t take away at all from how beautiful and peaceful the setting was. I could have stayed there forever. But eventually we had to move on. We still had a few hours to drive to get to Bayeux.

We arrived around 8 and checked into our hotel (probably the sketchiest of the ones we booked, but it was still pretty clean and nice). We were starving, though, so we ventured into town. Cristen had read about this pizza place, so we tried it first but were greeted with, “Non, non, termine, termine!” so we assumed they were closing for the night. There were a few other places nearby but they each had something against them (too pricey, no veggie options), so we headed back to the car. It wasn’t too much of a loss, though, because Bayeux is such a charming place (I may overuse the word charming, but is there a better alternative? France was just charming).

On our way out of the center of town, we passed an area with an open restaurant that looked pretty decent, so we stepped inside. Even though it was late, we were seated and handed menus. When our waiter came to take our order, Cristen and I could barely keep ourselves from giggling. He was the quintessential snobby French waiter. He sneered at everything we ordered (especially the water) and barely even let us finish ordering before he walked away. We ate in a lot of restaurants in France and never had another waiter like him, so I don’t mean to stereotype. I just thought it was hilarious that our very first waiter should live up to the caricature so perfectly.