Paris, etc, part 2
The day was beautiful and cold when I got up this morning. We eschewed the hotel breakfast and instead feasted on lovely sandwiches, tarts and tea while we waited for the bus to Mont Saint Michel. When I tried to get on holding my tea the driver said, “No coffee!”
“It’s actually tea, but ok,” I said as I tossed the tea in the garbage. The ride was smooth and the scenery beautiful as we passed little towns and fields sprinkled with sheep, horses, cows and, on one occasion, donkeys. The first signs of the approaching coast were old boats in people’s yards and the odd seagull. As I listened to the French passengers chatting, I felt that, really, any language spoken by natives in their own country is a beautiful thing. I say that because I’d never felt any compulsion to study French before, but I can see the attraction.
Mont St. Michel is…well, impressive, despite all of the construction work going on to ensure that it stays more or less an island. We walked out on the pedestrian path. The grass was still frosted with dew even though it was nearly noon. The island is home to a village as well as the castle, which is a huge complex in itself. It makes me wonder if JK Rowling got any inspiration for Hogwarts Castle from it. I regretted not getting the audio explanation because I really had no idea what the grand room after grand room was for. All I could do was imagine what life was like there back in those days.
We found a restaurant by the name of one Chenbl had noted in one of his guides as being good, but when we went in and asked for a table, the woman told us, rather shortly, to go upstairs. When we did, the woman there told it the place was full. “Can you tell us how long the wait is?” I asked.
“No,” she said, and that was the end of that conversation. We found another place and gorged ourselves on mussels, crisps, and other tasty things, before finding that the actual restaurant in the guidebook was down the village street near the entrance. Oh, well.
We caught the free shuttle back to the bus station, but we’d misjudged the time of the last bus, and there was no way to get back to Rennes. We asked the woman at the shuttle center, but she pointedly ignored us even after we asked other people who went to ask her. Eventually one man, who was riding his bicycle around the area, was nice enough to call us a cab, which swept us back to Rennes, which was fortunate as I was feeling a little off, probably due to the combination of cold wind and creamed mussels.
A hot back back at the hotel felt good, but I will need a good night’s rest tonight.
